#find me a supermodel
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From 1998, when he started his career as a model, being proclaimed the winner in the 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆 𝑨 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒍 contest, to 2024, from one of his latest public appearances, reshooting scenes for 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 in New York 🔥
What a man 𝗧𝗼𝗺 is... WHAT A MAN 🤩💘! Every year he looks more and more handsome, how will he do it? 🥰
15 September, what a beautiful day, because he was born 😍💖 🎈🎂
If you missed the special post for 𝗧𝗼𝗺, find my previous post 😏
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De 1998, cuando empezó su carrera como modelo proclamándose el vencedor en el concurso 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆 𝑨 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒍, a 2024, de una de sus últimas apariciones en público, regrabando escenas para 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎: 𝑬𝒍 Ú𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒐 𝑩𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆 en Nueva York 🔥
Qué hombre es 𝗧𝗼𝗺... ¡QUÉ HOMBRE 🤩💘! Cada año se ve más y más guapo, ¿cómo lo hará? 🥰
15 de septiembre, qué día tan bonito, porque nació él 😍💖 🎈🎂
Si te perdiste la publicación especial para 𝗧𝗼𝗺, busca mi anterior publicación 😏
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#tom hardy#edward thomas hardy#1998#2024#tom hardy birthday#happy birthday tom hardy#birthday#happy birthday#feliz cumpleaños#feliz cumpleaños tom hardy#cumpleaños#find me a supermodel#venom#eddie brock#edward brock#bts#behind the scenes#detrás de escenas#venom 3#venom the last dance#the last dance#venom el último baile#el último baile#my edits#mis edits#we are venom#nosotros somos venom
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The L Word: Lookbook ↳ 2.01, Life, Loss, Leaving
#the l word#jennifer schecter#mia kirshner#bette porter#jennifer beals#shane mccutcheon#kate moennig#tina kennard#laurel holloman#kit porter#pam grier#ivan aycock#kelly lynch#dana fairbanks#erin daniels#alice pieszecki#leisha hailey#carmen de la pica morales#sarah shahi#ok i tried to find the two random farmers market lesbians but i couldnt#easily the highlight of the ep for me but also tbf anytime the l word has LESBIANS in the background or whatever who look anything less tha#the supermodel perfect appealing main ensemble my eyes get huge and i see You. I . See. You. doesnt even matter if theyre just acting lets#just enjoy the peeks of reality the l word gives us so briefly#jenny staring at them Sigh jenny u were so butchfemme tbh if only chaiken knew how to 'write' or could envision lesbians who didnt look lik#like... like this like that like perfectly feminine conventionally attractive amalgamations of Showtime Produced Television#anyway her staring at them and also soon when she gets the haircut like i just know what u are#anyway theyre all cute here i also forgot this was the bizarre kit realising ivan is like i dont even know actually like whatever#more of my tags will be along this line as this entire season goes down again#but again jennys cute waitress outfit and ugh#tlwlb
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When I go to answer a serious ask, I usually type out my initial ideas, save it to drafts, and craft a response after I've had time to think. But recently, some of the asks have just disappeared. Unfortunately, this was one of those instances. (I'm recalling to the best of my ability).
Anon said they felt like the only one noticing how Maneskin use people as props in their photos, usually People of Color.
This topic touches on some of the most historically and currently relevant subsects of society. Race & ethnicity. Social development & communication, (now in the age of social media). Entertainment & representation. Plus, others I'm not thinking of. I want to acknowledge how deserving of an in depth discussion this topic is, while also acknowledging that I'm not informed enough to broach it. So this is gonna be pretty surface, anon, and I'm sorry for that.
What does it even mean to use somebody as a prop?
Props are used to add detail and context which make the subject or background more interesting. As inanimate objects, they only exist to enhance the scene. Therefore, to treat someone like a prop is to prioritize the way they can improve your image over that person's autonomy. Sure, both the prop and subject can both have individuality, as long as one serves to make the other look interesting.
So who's culpable? The subject, the photographer/videographer, perhaps a director of sorts? Personally, I think the blame is shared and situationally dependent.
Below are the most obvious examples of Maneskin using a person as a prop, posted to their insta pages. The trend anon pointed out is evident. Admittedly, I don't have a good sample size here, though. A ton of Maneskin's content is only available on their stories. Especially content with non-band members (which is what anon is referencing), since Maneskin's publicist prefers to post just the band.
I wonder how many of the people in these photos gave informed consent. (Not necessarily to a band member, just someone). As in "This photo will be posted without your name and seen by millions, but you won't receive royalties." Because some of these images Maneskin (the brand) can profit from via merchandise and copyrights. Conversely, most of the folks in the photos will experience poverty in their lifetime. Some of Maneskin's outfits are worth more than the other person makes in a year and they're treating them like a plant. There's also the safety concern. If any of these people have someone in the whole world that wishes them harm, that person can now find their job/neighborhood.
I know these photos aren't all bad. Victoria probably got consent to post pic #5, just a harmless prank. The woman in pic #3 was likely thrilled to be sitting next to such a handsome young man and thinks all social media is Facebook (which she hates). But why take pictures with the Black men in photos #2 & #4? What about the Latinas in #1 & #12? They're are using POCs as visually compelling markers of cultural and ethnic differences to say something meaningful about themselves. Look how far I've come! Look how successful my music is! You envy me, right?
#if this take is too nuanced for you ✨move along✨#yes ANON maybe it wasn't their idea/*insert plausible deniability here*#maybe Maneskin are faultless & culpable for nothing & never make mistakes & above all critique & you will shun me forever OH NO#and they'll eventually ascend to heaven while angels sing Supermodel in a white column of light parting the clouds plus a double rainbow#as max Martin performs fellatio on Vic's strap and a thousand virgins part their legs above as a thousand MILFs part their legs below#THE GREAT SCISSORING. but barring that they are fallible and I'm opinionated so plz exit at the block button. you'll find friends there.
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I'VE BEEN BEING DEPRIVED OF TWO WHOLE ROYAL BLOOD SONGS AND I NEVER EVEN KNEW??!?!!!!
#SPOTIFY YOU'VE BETRAYED ME FOR THE LAST TIME.#they're b-sides which is probably why they're not on there but why did i find out from GENIUS LYRICS!!!#SUPERMODEL AVALANCHES IS SO FUCKING GOOOODDDDDDDDDDDD KILLS MYSELF.#.txt
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you can tell im on my period bc i am once again weeping over cyrus albright
#cw menstruation mention#HES SO MUCH TO ME I WILL NEVER STOP SAYING THIS#the most beautiful supermodel of a university professor who has the social skills of a dead frog#gets booted out of the royal academy bc he was looking for a lost textbook but accidentally got accused of sleeping with a princess#goes on an epic adventure to find the book and discovers a blood magic conspiracy to resurrect an evil god#his boss turns into a massive ogre so he has to painfully kill him in order to escape#and then it happens AGAIN with his boss' secretary#kills the secretary and uncovers a portal to hell with the new friends he met on his adventures#rocks up in hell and immediately kills his boss' secretary's ghost once more for good measure#kills the chained-up god of hell with his friends#and then goes back home like its nothing to keep teaching at the academy because he loves his job so much#NOBODY IS DOING IT LIKE HIM#THE HAIR THE CLOAK THE BOOTS#i cant easily articulate it but i love him sm
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another wip from me. hehe. supermodel satoru.
warnings: mdni, smut, fluff, masturbation, obsession. (honestly, satoru feels kinda yandere af. he's fucking down bad for you.)
supermodel! satoru whose life is a whirlwind—flashing cameras, designer clothes, and breathless whispers of adoration. on the surface, he has it all: the perfect career, the perfect face, the perfect life. but perfection… has its price.
supermodel! satoru who, after a ten-hour photoshoot that left him feeling more mannequin than man, slumps into the cold embrace of his sleek penthouse. the city glimmers outside his floor-to-ceiling windows, vibrant and alive, but it feels distant, like a movie playing on mute. he’s surrounded by luxury but drowning in solitude.
supermodel! satoru who, running on three hours of sleep and bad coffee, barely notices when his fingers fumble over his phone, sending a text message to you—meant for his manager. tossing the phone aside with a sigh, he stretches out on the couch, exhaustion pulling at his limbs—unaware that this accidental message is about to flip his world upside down.
supermodel! satoru who, when your response comes through, doesn’t realize at first that he’s texted a stranger. his initial confusion shifts to mild annoyance, but that changes the moment he reads your sharp, unfiltered reply. intrigue replaces irritation, and before he knows it, he’s texting back, unable to resist the pull of you on the other end.
supermodel! satoru who keeps his identity a secret, finding it strange at first, but soon, it becomes refreshing. for once, he’s not the face on billboards or the name in glossy magazines. no—for the first time in forever, someone is talking to him—not his fame, not his face, just him.
supermodel! satoru who finds himself grinning like an idiot whenever his phone buzzes with your name. you tell him about your life—mundane, you call it, but to him, it’s captivating. days turn into weeks—texts in the middle of the night when he’s jet-lagged and bored in some foreign country. voice notes where you laugh at his terrible jokes.
supermodel! satoru who one day, finally reveals who he is, and with a mix of arrogance and curiosity, boldly asks for your photo—eager to see the face behind the name he’s grown so fond talking to.
c’mon now... I show my face to the world every day. least you could do is show me yours ;)
your reply pings through, accompanied by an attachment, and for a moment, his breath catches.
supermodel! satoru who has seen countless beautiful people, surrounded by them every day, but there’s something about you that has him hooked. perhaps it’s not just the way you look—it’s the way you’ve made him feel. for the first time in forever, he’s not just admired; he’s seen.
supermodel! satoru who ends up sprawled out on his couch later that night, your picture propped up on the coffee table in front of him as he grips his shaft. his shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, his sweatpants pushed down to his thighs as his cock strains in his hand—red, leaking and desperate for attention. all he can focus on is you.
supermodel! satoru whose glossy lips part as he pants, pumping his dick, his head tipping back while the phone’s glow casts shadows across his flushed skin. his penthouse is filled with the slick sound of his hand sliding over his length, mixing with his shuddering breaths.
“fuuuck… so fucking pretty…” he rasps, his hips bucking into his fist. his strokes grow faster, more desperate, as his body thrums with heat.
supermodel! satoru who murmurs your name like a prayer, thick with need, chasing his inevitable release. “nnngh… gonna—ahhh—gonna cum f’you,” he moans, breathy and broken. His voice cracks as his back arches off the couch.
supermodel! satoru whose strokes grow frantic, erratic, his abs flexing tight as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his stomach, painting his skin in sticky streaks of white. the release leaves him trembling, every drop wrung from his body as a low groan escapes his parted lips.
supermodel! satoru who exhales a quiet laugh, his chest heaving as a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. he trails his fingers through the mess, smearing it across his toned abs as his smirk deepens—amused and awed by how much you’ve made him cum.
supermodel! satoru who can’t focus during his photoshoot the next day, every click of the camera drowned out by thoughts of you. his mind lingers to the filthy fantasy of your body beneath his—your lips whispering his name, your legs wrapped around his waist.
the ache in his pants becomes unbearable, and he excuses himself, slipping away to the bathroom under the pretense of ‘fixing his hair.’
supermodel! satoru who locks the bathroom door behind him with trembling fingers, his breath hitching as he pulls up your photo again. his hands fumble with the buttons of his designer pants, desperate to release his aching erection.
supermodel! satoru who stares at your picture with half-lidded eyes, his thumb swiping over the swollen tip of his dick, spreading a slick bead of precum across the sensitive head. "fuck… you’ve got me so worked up," he whispers with a cocky smirk, and his free hand grips the edge of the sink, his cock twitching eagerly in his fist.
“pretty girl… god, I’d ruin you,” he shudders as he fucks his hand. with a sharp inhale, he reaches out to twist the handles of the porcelain sink. but honestly, the cascading water is a feeble attempt to drown his debauched sounds—sounds he knows he can’t hold back.
supermodel! satoru whose mind spirals into pure filth, his fantasies running wild as he pictures your body beneath his—writhing, trembling, utterly at his mercy. your hands would cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he holds your legs apart, spreading you wide as he fucks your tight little hole.
"bet you'd look so fucking good under me," he hisses through gritted teeth. “all spread out, legs shaking… pretty little mouth begging f’me.” his hand tightens around his cock as his hips jerk forward, “fuuuuck, you’d take me so well, wouldn’t ya? haaa—every fucking inch.”
supermodel! satoru who is teetering on the edge when a sharp knock cuts through the haze, echoing against the bathroom door.
“satoru? you’re needed back on set!” his manager calls, muffled but clear.
but his strokes turn frenzied, the interruption fueling the thrill—the sheer audacity of jerking off in the middle of a shoot. his moans mix with the rush of running water and the persistent pounding on the door.
“shit—fuck—fuck—” his voice cracks, his body seizes, and in that instant his cock erupts. he whimpers, milking his dick as his forehead falls forward against the mirror. as his thick hot seed spills on his hand, it streaks across the counter in messy, sticky arcs.
“satoru!” the knocking continues, louder this time, his manager’s voice growing sharper.
“i’m coming!” he yells back, and the irony of his words pulls a breathless laugh from his lips.
supermodel! satoru who stands there for a moment, panting, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. he’s a fucking hot mess—cheeks flushed, his hair a disarray, and his lips are swollen from biting down so damn hard, trying to keep quiet.
supermodel! satoru who tucks himself into his pants, buckling his belt with practiced ease as his smirk slides back into place. he splashes cold water on his face, tidies his hair, and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, he’s the typical picture of confidence—swaggering back to set with a cocky grin as though nothing happened.
but deep down, he knows he’s utterly, completely fucked.
why? because you’ve become his favorite addiction, his sweetest downfall. and it’s only a matter of time before he finally makes you his.
a full fic for this will be coming out! lmk if you wanna be tagged. edit: taglist closed
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satoru smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru fluff#satoru fluff#satoru gojo fluff#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo smut#jjk smut#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#satoru x you#satoru x reader#jjk x reader
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is the tiktok supermodel fandom okay i just saw a post saying ‘hot take: kate moss wasn’t that skinny’ like BABE that is a very hot take for a reason….. dare i say scalding…….. kate moss???? not that skinny????? i know there is quite a bit of overlap between 90s supermodel lovers and pro ana content but omfg
#as in the woman who was literally the face of heroin chic?#supermodels#kate moss#tiktok#rant#body image#no wonder no one is happy with their body#ladies pls take care of yourselves#social media detox is on the horizon for me i fear#desperately trying to find the post#wish i saved it
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stop-for-tacos:
fortheloveofeverything:
The store sign in the background. Perfect.
is there anything this man fails to be awesome at?
stop-for-tacos:
fortheloveofeverything:
is there anything this man fails to be awesome at?
stop-for-tacos:
fortheloveofeverything:
is there anything this man fails to be awesome at?
#I've genuniely seen supermodels wear this sort of outfit when they are off duty#THEY GOT THE INSPIRATION FROM JOHN CLEESE#John Cleese: The fashion icon#why couldn't John be a super model?#john cleese#2000s/2010s#like let me find a picture of Bella Hadid wearing this exact outfit bc I swear I've seen her wear this exact outfit#I couldn't find it
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can you write something with soft dom bestfriend!jake eating out inexperienced!shy!reader after he finds out she’s never done stuff like that before (with lots of praise plz) tyyy
I shied away from the suuuper innocent/shy trope but kept some elements in there
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“No one’s ever eaten you out before?”
“Jake!”
He throws his hands up like he’s asking an innocent questions. “Hey, I’m not judging you for it! It’s just that…you’ve hooked you with a few people, haven’t you?” Jake watches you hug one of your plushies against your chest.
“Once.” Your cheeks feel warm and you resist the urge to hide your face behind the soft object. “I don’t do it often. You know that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with not hooking up. What happened?”
You can’t meet your best friend’s eye. “He just…finished too soon and didn’t do anything else.”
“That’s deplorable.”
“Tell me about it.”
“He didn’t want to taste you?”
You sigh and lie back down on your mattress, shutting your eyes while keeping the plushie between your arms and pinned against your chest. Jake looks at you and sees your feet planted on the bed as you keep your knees bent. The sleep shorts you’re wearing aren’t nothing new. He’s seen you wear it plenty of times but tonight, it feels a little bit different.
You, on the other hand, don’t feel Jake’s wandering eyes. You’re too mortified talking about this kind of stuff because your best friend is far more experienced with sex than you are. He’s athletic, attractive, and someone who jumped at the chance to sleep around once he started university. You wouldn’t consider yourself someone people naturally gravitate towards and despite knowing Jake since the beginning of middle school, sex is the one topic you struggle to talk about with him.
But Jake, the ever persistent best friend who just wants the best for you, won’t let it go. He rarely pries into your sex life and if you’re talking to anybody because he’s typically the one who’s preoccupied with hookups or casual flings.
It’s currently the peak of spring and it’s starting to get warmer outside. One of your windows is cracked open and amidst your inner turmoil, you hear the crickets chirping outside. You don’t see Jake’s eyes glance over your bare legs and how he gulps when his gaze reaches the shirt you’re wearing that’s riding up to show a small portion of your stomach.
“Not all of us have a lot of experience, okay?!”
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with me.”
“No,” Jake says, pulling the plushy from your arms and throwing it beside him, “but I know you better than you know yourself. I know you compare how many people you’ve slept with to me.”
You evert his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping around.” Your best friend laughs.
“I know. It doesn’t make me happy anymore but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to have sex, Y/N.”
You huff and pull yourself up on your elbows to look at Jake. His annoyingly boyish charms and freshly dyed, dark brown hair make him look like a supermodel underneath your ambient lighting. The room is dimly lit with hues of pink and yellow, and you don’t know if Jake’s looking extra delectable because of the light or because you’ve started to look at him differently.
“Easy for you to say. People want to have sex with you.”
Jake bites back a retort. “I bet people want to have sex with you too.” You roll your eyes.
“If I were a guy, I’ll bet I could stare at a girl and know I’d be getting some.” You hear him laugh but that does nothing to quell your embarrassment. Jake sits up and scoots closer until he’s looking down at you.
“What is it that you really want?”
“Jaeyun.”
“I dunno, maybe if you say it then you’ll manifest it, or some shit.” Jake doesn’t know why but he likes that you can’t make eye contact with him.
“I…”
You finally look at him. He tilts his head and nods once. “Go on.”
“I just…I want someone to make me feel good, okay?”
“That can’t be all you want. There’s gotta be something more.”
“I want a guy to eat me out. Happy?” It’s embarrassing to say out loud. Jake grins.
“Very. Now you’re manifesting this into reality.”
“You’re really weird, Jake.” He laughs.
“So you tell me.” He brings his finger up to your bare knee and traces a random pattern that makes you feel tingly. It’s a new feeling around your best friend and you look at him curiously.
“More guys should eat girls out,” he says, cutting the silence abruptly. “Guys say they’re good at fucking but they never get anyone off.”
You groan. “Everybody sucks. It seems like no guy likes to go down on a girl, or whatever.”
“Some do.”
“You mean to tell me there are some guys who actually like eating a girl out?”
“Yes.” Jake looks down at you and holds your eye. He doesn’t move and you watch as his fingers start to grip the comforter. You speak after a long pause. He doesn’t break eye contact.
“A-Are you saying you like to do that?”
He doesn’t let up the eye contact. “I love it. Could do it forever.”
You gulp. “R-Really?”
Jake nods. “Yeah.”
“What do you like about it?” Your voice, ever so timid and testing the waters, makes him excited.
He licks his lips. “I like the taste the most. Always so nice and wet. Sweet, almost. I like the way it feels too. Makes me think I’m about to die.”
“Isn’t that a bad thing?”
“No. I’d be happy if eating pussy was the last thing I did.”
The look he gives you is unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him before. His mouth twitches while he sits in front of you and you’re beside yourself when you rub your legs together. Jake doesn’t make a move to touch you but his steady gaze makes you squirm.
“Are you…offering?”
Jake chuckles. “Would it be bad if I was?” Not really.
“Honestly? Not really…”
“Let me take your shorts off, mkay?”
Jake hooks his fingers around your flimsy sleep shorts and pulls them down slowly as you feel the fabric glide against your inner thighs. The cool air provides an electric shock to your mound and you realize then just how wet you’ve become.
Your best friend opens up your legs to little resistance and finds you too cute when you bunch up your pillows to rest your back against it. He toys with you for a moment, using his thumb to gently brush over your slit while grunting at how wet your panties have become. Jake pulls them aside and is met by the place you need him the most.
“Do you want me to eat your pussy, baby?”
“Yes,” you moan, feeling his warm breath over your wet folds.
Jake doesn’t answer you. Instead, he pushes his head down and spreads his tongue all over you and moans at the first taste. You’re so warm and tense underneath his touch and his hands come to your thighs to keep them pried open but at the same time, Jake rubs his palm all over your skin to soothe your rigidness.
His hands support your legs too, forcing them open when you start to close in. It feels like he’s spreading you apart across the board and looking down at him makes your heart beat even faster. Jake looks so lost in his own pleasure while making you feel good too. His eyes are closed and his lashes kiss his cheeks in a way that makes him look heaven sent.
His tongue feels amazing and this sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. The wet slurping and constant pressure feels like you’re about to burst into a million pieces at any moment and you’re sure you’d become addicted to this if every guy made you feel the way your best friend does.
It should feel weird to have him touching you like this. You’ve only thought about him in the bedroom a handful of times before shaming away these feelings towards your best friend but looking down at him with his eyes closed and tongue pressed so deep inside of you makes your legs shake and toes curl.
You come without a warning and Jake encourages your loud string of moans when he licks you clean, lapping your wetness up like a dog drinking water. Jake’s face is so messy and so wet with your sheen and his spit before he wipes himself with the back of his hand.
He looks up at you before you can get a word out. “Let me do that again.”
#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#jake x reader#enhypen x reader#enha hard thoughts#enha hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#jake#my writing*#hard thought*
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Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)
Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI
TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.
In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.
In case you have never heard this song before, first of all who are you? Secondly here is the link
@Rosecentury
@Problematicreblogger
@Kurai-hono-blog
@Lunaluz432
@testishere
Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model.
Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close.
E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact.
“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.”
The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.”
“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?”
“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?”
“Yeah?”
“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-”
“All of them.”
“...what?”
“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.”
“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-”
“Let's leave tonight.”
“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.”
“....Y/N, is everything okay?”
“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story.
The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief.
Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee.
“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.”
“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”
“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?”
Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?”
“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stairs to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different.
Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more.
+++
She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card.
Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money?
A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt.
“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.”
“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.”
“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin.
Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.”
Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?”
“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”
“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though.
“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones?
“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.”
“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.”
Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.
“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer.
“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.”
“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch.
“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery.
“Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry!
“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder.
“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!”
“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.”
Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret.
Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark.
“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot.
Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace.
“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone.
When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot.
Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.”
“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up.
“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…”
“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.”
Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—”
“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek. Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling.
He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified.
Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children.
“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her.
“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.”
“And what about you?”
“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.”
Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.
“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass.
It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual.
Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”
++++
It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman.
However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that.
Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing.
They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time.
They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for.
When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye.
Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one.
Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?”
Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed.
He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him.
In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles.
Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones.
“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser.
Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience.
Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne.
After that, Y/N always drank in her room.
The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).
This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty.
Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could.
“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.”
“I’m an adult.”
“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched.
He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer), but that could have gone bad in so many ways.
“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted.
Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity.
‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him.
Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it.
Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality.
They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love.
“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair.
“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror.
“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…”
“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.”
Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.
Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him.
Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim.
He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow.
“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave.
Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now.
With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her.
“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of.
She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her.
“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce.
Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.”
“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.”
Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress.
She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so.
Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright.
To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all.
Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows.
“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.”
“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either.
The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her.
He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night.
That they are the Wayne family.
God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family.
Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.”
Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her.
“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.”
“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile.
“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.”
Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips.
‘I’ll never let you go again.’
________________________________________________
Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.
#yandere batfam#batfam x reader#yandere dc#platonic yandere#batfam#platonic batfam#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne#yandere bruce wayne#yandere jason todd
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kissing, i hope they caught us ー Ken Sato.
wherein ken sato finds himself waiting for the calls of his fuck buddy.
SMUT, read at your own risk. one-shot. female reader, UNEDITED.
"same time, uh, tomorrow?" ken said from behind you. you slipped into your blouse and turned to him, who was currently topless and fastening his belt, his hair pointed in all directions.
"tomorrow? we just fucked, ken." you laughed light-heartedly. "i'm a busy woman."
kenji looked at you while he sat at the edge of his bed, rubbing his shoulder. "n-next week?" he offered.
you sighed and smiled at him. finishing the top button of your blouse, you walked towards him and grabbed your purse from his nightstand. "i'll call you." you said, kissing his cheek as goodbye.
ー
liar, kenji said to himself. it has been well over two weeks since your last interaction, and he has been anxious to meet you again, to feel you. to touch you, to have you on your kneesー god damn it.
sighing deeply, he ran his hands through his jet-black hair and slouched on his couch. he had his phone on his couch with his tabs revealing your, [name] [surname], japan's hottest supermodel, social media accounts. he had his television opened and has been playing various movies over the past hours, but he seemed to pay no mind to them with how often he was refreshing your accounts for the hope of any updates of your whereabouts.
shit, he even stooped to a new low, stalking multiple fan accounts of yours on twitter to see if they had any clue. the opened laptop in front of him was stuck to his direct messages with you, revealing how he replied a thumbs up to your message saying, "thank u for tn ;)".
he felt stupid. should he have been more open? maybe he should've responded differently. who even responds to a girl with a thumbs up? real mature, kenji.
he was anxious, bouncing his leg as he kept sighing over and over. why weren't you messaging him? he was the ken sato. did he kiss you too hard? did he fuck you too roughly?
leaning back into the couch, he ran his hand once more for the nth time this evening. he was overthinking. he couldn't have all these thoughts with the upcoming tournament that he's been looking forward to for the past two months. but lately, all he seemed to think about was how good it felt to be inside you.
sighing again, ken had his phone in his hands and went back to refreshing your account. to his absolute surprise, you had a new post on instagram, uploaded sixteen seconds ago. it was an image of you with a bra that fit you so perfectly, baggy jeans that rested on your hips, and underwear that seemed to grip on your waist with the brand's name on the garter.
the baseball player stared at his phone with a blank face before knitting his eyebrows together and groaning, adjusting his pants with the sudden uncomfortable feeling. this is bad.
—
"my scan tells me that your blood circulation has been increased at a certain area—"
"i did not need a scan, mina!" ken gritted, frustrated. "i'll be back late!" he shouted as a way to drown out whatever mina said next as he shut the front door on his way out. ken walked towards his motorcycle, fitting into his black helmet before quickly driving to a nearby bar.
upon arriving, kenji took off his helmet and gave it to the valet parker, with along with his keys and some cash. "take care of her, alright?" ken said, referring to the bike. the valet nodded. kenji held the sunglasses that he hung on the front of his shirt and put it on before walking towards the entrance.
seeing the long line behind the stanchion, kenji smirked and walked towards the bouncer who blocked him from coming inside with his arm. "name?"
ken raised an eyebrow and lowered his sunglasses. "sato." he said. the bouncer gaped and got his arm out of the way and opening the doors for him instead, apologizing for not recognizing him earlier.
ken was met with beaming lights within the darkness of the place, the air smelling of alcohol and the loud sound of the song that the dj played bouncing off the walls. ken took a deep breath in and sighed, and after a few steps in he was immediately accommodated by a blonde hostess, handing him a glass of champagne before latching on to his arm as she giggled and guided him to an empty table.
it was already past midnight and ken surprised himself by not drinking to his limits this time. there were women holding on to both of his arms, some handing him fruits while one held the bottle for his drink. he was also accompanied by strangers that seemed to need a breather. "hey, pretty, care to get me another glass?" kenji said to the brunette on his left with a sly smile.
the brunette giggled and pulled down her skirt before standing up "sure thing, ken." she smiled.
"there's no need for that, sweetie." he heard someone say from behind them. almost immediately, ken sato turned his head and his eyes widened at the sight of you. fuck. it was you. "hey, kenji. what brings you here?" you smiled and walked around the couch and made your way towards him. everyone at the table stood up and walked towards another unoccupied table, knowing the protocol.
"[n-name]?" ken stuttered, his hand running through the side of his hair as he fixed his posture. you giggled at him and took the brunette's former seat, taking the almost-empty tall glass of champagne that he held and sipped on it. "what, what're you doin' here?" he slurred, tipsy.
"oh, nothing. just here with some friends." you smiled and placed the glass to his lips, making sure that it was the same spot that you drank from. taking a deep breath, ken leaned into the glass and sipped, some slipping from the corners of his mouth. you placed the glass down to the table and wiped the trail of champagne on his chin. kenji only stared at you. flustered, you looked down at his hands and held it. "i missed you, kenji." you said.
kenji stared at you. he forgot how beautiful you were. how could he ever forget that?
kenji held your hand and interlocked your fingers. "yeah, well, you didn't seem to wanna let me know that little fact of yours over the last two weeks." he said, his cheeks reddening as he avoided eye contact.
you laughed at his shyness and held on to his hand tighter. "'m sorry, baby." you smiled and leaned in to his ear. "but, i can let you know just how much i missed you, baby." you whispered. "my place?"
—
it has been yet another two weeks since your last night together. kenji was one week into the tournament that he has been preparing for and he has been busy as ever. coach shimura has confiscated their cellphones to give the yomiuri giants their well-needed concentration on their trainings and game days.
after a weekend long of back-to-back games, coach shimura has finally given back the players their phones to reward them of their zero losses so far. upon unlocking it, kenji was met with multiple messages from you, telling him how much you miss him, telling him how good he looked in the field, letting him know of what you did while thinking of him . . .
he was flushed after reading everything, and in between messages he also received missed calls from you, and one voicemail.
"baby, can you call me back? it's so lonely in my mansion."
taglist: @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @ttulipwritezz
#Spotify#ken sato#ken sato headcanons#ken sato imagines#ken sato smut#ken sato x reader#kenji sato#ultraman rising#ultraman netflix#ultraman
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all the time in the world
part two of "37"
CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, fluffy fluff, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan's down bad for you, you're down bad for him, it's a whole thing, etc.
Logan groaned as he felt something stir beside him, the sun spilling in through the windows and bathing the room in golden light.
'The hell...'
His power had already come into affect, the metal bars Magneto impaled him with, along with the water in his drowning lungs, completely gone.
Sitting up, he rested a hand on his side of his head.
And that's when it all came back to him.
Hank.
Charles.
Mystique.
With a roar, Logan shot out of bed, claws drawn and chest heaving as he snapped his head around, looking for the direction of the fight.
But instead, he found a bedroom, which had plants growing from every nook and cranny, the flowers blooming awake along with another in the room.
"Baby?" your soft voice broke through his frenzy, calming him almost instantly.
Quickly, Logan turned around, shoulders sinking as he caught sight of you sliding out of bed, still wearing the same silky robe.
Of course, it looked a little more worn, but it still did its job, and made you look just as beautiful as the day he left.
"(n/n)?"
You looked exactly the same, save for the few gray streaks in your hair, and now had the air of a woman seasoned in life's trials and tribulations, yet still glowing with youth.
It reminded him of how astronomically lucky he was that you even gave him the time of day—past, present, or otherwise.
As you drew closer, slowly, his claws retracted, and he watched you approach with eyes that made it seem like he was seeing you for the first time.
"You alright?" you asked, hands cupping his cheeks and smoothing over his cheekbones, before sliding down to rest over his chest. "You haven't had one this bad in a long time..."
Eyes flicking up to his face, your worries increased tenfold to see no change in his expression.
The man was just staring at you.
"Honey, is everything okay—"
He didn't even let you finish the sentence before he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush against him and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
And, despite the initial shock, you eased into him, arms finding home around his neck as you pulled him closer, resting your head against his pounding heartbeat.
"While I'm loving all this early morning attention... you're starting to scare me," you chuckled, dryly, lifting your head to look up at him. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on?"
He took in a deep, slow breath, trying to find the words.
"Remember that day in 1973..." he started in a low voice, one hand squeezing your hip, "When I told you to wait until I find my way back..."
You swallowed thickly, biting back a question as you nodded in confirmation.
He took a moment, scanning your face for any sort of reluctance, happy to find none.
"Well... I found it..."
His eyes landed on yours, and the way you looked up at him made his chest roar.
You weren't making this easy for him.
He was already holding himself back on a thread of sanity, and now he had to deal with the fact that you looked like a goddamn supermodel, and smelled like cocoa butter and vanilla.
Your curves were curvier, your hips were dippier, and you now had an extra ounce of unspoken confidence that could bring any man to his knees.
Him included.
Your hands found his face, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.
Because he was to you, and now he all parts of him were back in your arms.
You chuckled, eyes misty as you smiled up at him, resting your forehead against his.
"Looks like my husband's whole again."
Record scratch.
"Husband?" he asked, eyes widening as he crackled a small smile.
You nodded, proudly holding up your hand to show off the gold wedding band sitting pretty on your ring finger.
"Mhmm," you hummed, amused by his shocked expression. "You put a ring on it fifteen years ago today... so don't think I'm gonna let you run out on me again."
He chuckled, fingers tucking under your chin and softly caressing your jaw.
"Wouldn't dream of it, doll."
Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips against yours, hard, unloading well over fifty year's worth of pining.
You sank into it almost immediately, matching his fervor as you rested your hands on his chest, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him even closer.
The two of you moved together in perfect sync, fitting each other like puzzle pieces, as you kept up with his rhythm.
He grasped you by the small of your back, pressing you further into him and giving your hips a little squeeze, earning a quiet squeak.
Close wasn't close enough.
He wanted you even closer than that.
He wanted you so much, every part of him in contact with you want on fire.
But, alas, you two were human (not really), and air would be needed eventually.
The two of you separated with a gasp, cheeks flushed and foreheads resting against each other.
"I don't think you know how long I've been waitin' to do that," he smirked, catching his breath.
You smiled, sliding your hands up from his chest to his shoulders.
"Come show me," you purred, staring at him with those sparkling, (e/c) eyes of yours.
'Goddamn...'
He leaned in closer, about to say something else when, of course, he was interrupted.
"Hey, you two better be up and ready," Scott's voice cut through the air, the two of you quietly groaning at the intervention. "You both have got classes in five minutes."
You and Logan separated, albeit reluctantly, straightening yourselves out a bit.
"I'm a teacher now?" he asked, raising a brow.
"Self defense," you answered, teasingly, "Some things never change."
Suddenly, he took your hand in his, holding it firmly as a serious look came over his face.
"I'm gonna talk to the professor. See if he can get my memories back," he stated, reassuringly. "I don't want you to feel like we have to start from scratch... or our years have gone to waste."
That took you by surprise.
"Is that what you think?" you asked, concerned, as you turned to him. "Baby, I could care less whether you remember or not. It would be nice, but it would never make me believe that the years we've spent together have gone to waste."
You smiled, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek.
"Through thick and thin, it's you and me, Logan... If you're lost, I'll find you. If you forget, I'll remind you... we have all the time in the world."
Goddamnit.
You were getting him choked up.
Misty eyed, he pulled you closer, looking down at you like you were the only damn thing in the entire universe.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he smiled, thankfully.
You shrugged, teasingly, placing a quick peck on his cheek before heading toward your shared bathroom.
"Beats me."
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
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BOMBSHELL
౨ৎ @cinnamoncunt asked: can we pleaseee get an either art or patrick fic with victoria secret model reader?
Um, ABSOLUTELY ? Let’s do both ! Perfect timing bc I just settled on being a vs angel for halloween since I don’t have 2 bfs to do challengers this year. I’m sick of seeing the girls on my fyp who get to do it so this will justify my envy. 🤍
౨ৎ summary: it’s 2006 and you’re the opener for this years Victoria’s Secret fashion show. But unlike your other fellow angels, you have not one, but two supportive boyfriends just waiting to get their hands on you after the show.
౨ৎ warnings: 18+, smut !, threesome, p in v (unprotected) sex, oral (f) receiving, early 20’s Art and Pat, model reader, womanizer Patrick, shy Art, reader has dom-ish moments, flirty foreplay, pet names, dirty talk, Victoria’s Secret (the brand) mentions, a song inspo: Long Way 2 Go by Cassie
You might’ve been the only angel backstage with two boyfriends on her radar.
No, you totally were.
And that was fine by you when having the two boys under your wings was your own little secret.
Art and Patrick wouldn’t have missed it for the world. With not only their supermodel girlfriend being the opener for the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show, but fulfilling a great erotic teenage dream — something they both watched together during former years. In their dorm room at the Mark Rebellato Academy, while the other thirteen year olds would be up playing video games, or signing up for extra tennis classes in their free time, those two were glued in front of the tv. Creating a world of their own fantasy’s filled with angel wings and lingering far too overwhelming for them to even handle. Long legs, the bounciest glowing curls and pink bra sets filling the void. Their fascination with gorgeous and exceptionally powerful women at such a young age was far more vibrant than average.
It was what they bonded over from the very beginning.
Doing whatever they could whenever they could to find girls as close to what you happened to be as possible.
So when you came into their life, effortlessly magnetic with your beauty, superb bone structure, glitter dusted skin and a modeling contract — Art and Patrick had been at your beck and call since.
This was your peak. You’d really been here. Your I made it moment sinking in as you sat in the makeup chair backstage. The chaos of other models and their teams all rushing to get ready for the huge fashion show starting in just an hour tops was comforting to you, as an artist smudged on your cherry blush and the stroke of mascara running through your lashes before you checked your reflection in the mirror. Perfection to the way your curls flowed down your back, to even the careless drape of your robe hanging off your shoulder.
In the distance coming from not too far, there had been tousling wings parting as crew of models jumped out of the way, along with yelps like “what the hell ?” and “you guys can’t be back here!” coming from the group of girls.
And of course, it had been your blonde and brunette trailing through the crowd of angels to find you.
You watched with giggles coming from your covered mouth as the most handsomely men approached you. “What are you two doing back here?! You’re gonna get me fired and I haven’t even walked yet- -”
Art had a sideways little smile on his face, and eyes set on your face done up in shimmery makeup. You could nearly feel the way Arts heart had to be beating out of his chest just by the flustered look on his expression. Red and a tad dewy in the heat of the other barely clothed with mostly just rhinestones and lace six foot models surrounding him — but his focus was automatically choked up by you. On the other hand, Patrick’s eyes had been lingering all over the place, standing next to Art with a smirk across his lips as he had already charmed a group of angels nearby. Waving to them a bit with his sly attitude being just what they needed to get the fun pumping out of them for the show. As the girls all giggled to themselves and tried their best to look away, the brunette couldn’t wait to go yapping to all his friends or whoever would listen about all the hot girls he’d seen tonight.
You were so used to his cockiness contrasting Arts sweetness all too well, it hadn’t even phased you in the slightest..
“We uh- - wanted to bring you a little gift.” The blonde one spoke up nervously after clearing his throat, from behind his back, he revealed to you a full bouquet of pink peonies.
“Your favorite for all that hard work in the gym. The prettiest for our pretty girl.” Patrick grinned as he passed the flowers to you and you had let out an excited little noise as you took them. Your smile facing the two men as they watched your every girlish movement that they adored, smelling the arrangement in front of you.
“I- - you guys are too cute. They’re lovely.”
“You look bad ass by the way.” Art finally let himself breathe before chuckling with a smirk. And you grinned at him, pink colored cheeks as you stand to get closer to the men. Lean and in your six inches, Patrick shoved his hands down in his pockets just so resist the urge to touch you. Just a hip or your wrist. Anything he could while you looked like that. In all the eloquence of a woman that you were. Body so fit to him it was almost painful he wasn’t going into a spiral right now.
“Please confirm this for me angel.. can the wings stay on tonight ?” The brunette licked his lips carved into a smile of his own mischievous thoughts, Art then shoved him in his bicep.
You couldn’t help but let out soft laughter as you looked down at the peonies with shyness although your eyes had been full of tease.
“I can’t take them silly, they’re gonna be up in a museum.” You bit your lip as you smiled at your boyfriends. Eyes sparkling under the florescent lights of the room and the pair had collectively sucked in their breaths from.
“Ah.. course, course.” Patrick nodded although he’d still been eyeing you up in your pink stripped robe. “I don’t think they’d be able to fit in the limo anyways, they’re so big..” the blonde one laughed with the two of you, your eyes moved between them before you looked away with a naughty but playful nature.
“Yeah, well, I gotta say I like my pleasures pretty big..” your tone was smooth, as smooth as the way your hand then trailed, pink tips touching delicately over Arts belt buckle to Patrick’s leather as you made sure to meet both of the boy’s widening eyes. You turn back to your makeup chair with a little smile.
“Holy shit.” and “Oh my god.” Was heard behind your shoulder.
“Now go before you get kicked out.” You giggled. Patrick had knock Arts shoulder so he’d come back to earth and start heading out with him. You waved their way with your fingers and could barely hide your embarrassingly big smile, watching them fawn over you even while exiting.
As the show began and the crowd was roaring, the anticipation backstage was an overwhelming high with the rest of your fellow angels. You were first. And that was a lot of weight on your back. (not just from your wings) the moment you stepped on the runway, and the lights set on you, cheers were heard from the far back of the audience as your gleaming smile took upon your face. In your vs set, glimmering down the runway. You felt the adrenaline move within your hips as you not walked, but glided down the runway in a sexiness that had a sense of grace and girlish fun. Excitement big and bubbling through you as you blew kisses to the crowds of not just other models, but fans, legends. Everyone admiring you.
The front row wasn’t absent of familiar faces either because when you found Art and Patrick eyeing each other with proud grins, all the memories and moments of their early teen hoods was like a flashback through their minds. Art and Patrick would shamefully try and hide the way their cocks would tent as they watched one after the other angel strut down the runway. In bliss it was all the wanted to see it right in front of them. Now, that same feeling was on a different level when they got to actually leave with one herself. the moment you flashed a smile at the two boys from the stage before swishing your lace lined hips back stage — they started cheering even more than the others around them. You closed heavenly. And you knew you looked damn good with seven foot pink angel wings behind you.
♡
When the after party rolled around, it was all of your model friends to pour it up in celebration of a phenomenal show. The other angels had begged you to stay, keep dancing on tables and flirting with the guys at the bar — but your desire had been pulled to have your own little after party. But with just your two boys in attendance.
You let them take over your hotel suit with as much whiskey and champagne as they wanted, more wine and more glasses being delivered to your room would rack up a massive bill at the end of the night that your agents would take care of. You couldn’t give a care in the world as you’d been frolicking around that room in your gifted pink set, diamond bra stuck to your chest made you look from another world of heavenliness. Your heels were still strapped on and the r&b from the radio filled the area as you stood on the bed to pose for the camera of your blinged out BlackBerry. You had Patrick snapping pictures, capturing you on your big night. Even if you’d already gotten tons from the show, that just wasn’t enough when you had the looks of a goddess.
“Hell yeah, baby, that’s it.” The brunette edged you on as he got you from all angels, knowing he’d send them to himself immediately after you’d gotten your pick. You giggled with a glass of champagne in one hand, and your other pushing up your locks for more volume. Art sipping on whatever he had while observing you from Patrick’s side. Putting on a show for the two boys without even realizing it.
“Make sure you get my good side,”
“Are they not the same ?” The brunette had made an confused expression from behind the phone. You stopped from posing to reach out and laugh “gimme” you grabbed it from him and all he could do was grin at the way you had no idea just how much of a true bombshell were. Art sat on the bed closest to you while you pressed different buttons to scroll through the dozens of photos with a bitten lip covered in gloss. The blondes eyes ran over your skin, the way you sat in that little set, and the way he relaxed against the comforter of the bed with a shy grin made you look up from your phone to meet his blue orbs.
“What ?” You tittered, throwing your phone to the other side of the bed.
“It’s just, you were so confident out there tonight, princess. You’re always so.. confident. You didn’t even look like a thought of nervousness had crossed your mind,” Art reached out to run the back of his index over your glowing skin and you hid your smile in your shoulder a bit.
“I was so nervous.”
“Really ?” He sat up.
“Yeah, opening in front of all those people ? Live tv ? Half naked and in six inch heels ? I was terrified.”
“You could of fooled me.” Patrick scoffed as he sat on your other side, “what Art said.. your confidence. It’s so sexy.”
“Yeah ?” Your voice was slightly silkier as you look from the brunette to the blonde who were only inches away from you now, breathing in your pure seduction they couldn’t hide the need to want to get that lacy thong off you immediately. Taste what you’d been teasing them with all night long.
“like.. what if my heel got stuck ? …what if I fell ?”
“No way, your- effortless.”
“But would you have rushed to save me ?” You leaned in close to the brunette, batted you lashes with a subtle pout. And it was then that rare occasion when Patrick had gotten choked up on his words occurred. You gave him your sweetest eyes, and smirked at the way his vision trailed down to your lips from there. Hands going to slip around your thigh.
“Who wouldn’t ?” You then heard the blondes voice come in slowly. He watched you turn away from Patrick’s embrace to now focus on him.
Arts eyes meet yours and that sugary smile you always carry returned to your face too soon. You followed what he laid down. Leaning in Arts path now, your lips landed against the blondes. Slow and with ease you kiss and the tension in who’d entrance you first was settled. Art slipped a hand in your waves, he moved his mouth against yours like it had been second nature to him and you sat on your knees to deepen it, tongues running against one another and a soft “mmm” came from the back of your throat as he surprised you with his newfound control over his movements.
Lost in the kisses as your lips smack against one another continuously, the lip stain of your liner now smudged across arts mouth, the blonde groaned. Patrick, felt his hard on grow viscous as he scanned the two of you. And Art, way beyond that point, could of came if it went on just a few more minutes.
You grab on to his curly locks as you pulled him away, softly panting with a smile. Arts lips were lingering nearby as you closed your eyes to peck them one last time before brushing your thumb against his bottom one with a giggle, your view flashes Patrick’s direction.
“Now, are you gonna make me cum or what ?” You sigh before letting your back hit the sheets behind you, leaving the two to fend for themselves at once. You watched Patrick’s digits run over your front side, hunger in his as while feeling up your skin. Art already leaned in to find his place between your legs — the other following when he got the memo. “mmm, you smell like paradise..” Art had his nose pressed against your lace covered cunt. He breathed deep for your sent to fill his senses, and Patrick kissing up your thigh. You observed with a bitten lip as you play with the strap of your bra.
“She is paradise..” was the brunette’s response, he nibbled a bit on the plushness of your thigh and you squeal excitedly. Both boys struggle to let the other get your panties out of the way, you were amused to watch them. You just lifted your legs so it would be easier. They settled on the side since your set had been hot anyways. One leg on the shoulder of the other, you felt a digit come in contact with your clit — already letting out a soft whimper. A tongue laid a stripe up your cunt, and it felt like sweet relief.
Art took his time with going from kissing to lapping at your core, setting his tongue flat then flicking up to your folds, Patrick focused on your clit. Sucking till his lips find their way to eating you in rhythm. Your eyebrows knit together as you let out a higher pitched noise and stuffed your hands into their hair, the overwhelming sensations washed over you. Moans echo clean from your throat. “oh- yeah… good boys.” you heard more groans vibrate from your core and that made you grin. All while now reaching for the pillows above your head as the boys make your legs shake and tremble. You gasp, muttering curses under your breath.
They were too good just oral wise. It had your nails clawing at the sheets in no time as they let all their craving for you out on your pussy, it pushed you into a climax fast.
“Mmm, yes- - fuck !” you whine as you start to cum on the tongues that were fucking into you, even their licking and sucking after your soaked cunt made you shutter. Your grip on the sheets letting up slowly as you came down with a soft sigh. Art rubbed the back of your thigh as he leaned up with the other, they both sat back with their chests heaving and very visible bulges showing from behind their jeans.
You cracked a honeyed smile. “Okay. Let me see those cocks.” You rise to your elbows after the order and the men take no hesitation to get their buttons undone. Your smile turning to a darker smirk soon enough in anticipation.
“She wants to play, huh ?” Art’s lips curled into a grin as he looked up at you whist shoving his pants and boxers down his thighs, Patrick already way ahead of him as he chuckled,
“Always a bad girl under all that sweetness,” the brunette joked as he playfully pulled on your foot and you yanked it away with a giggle. “You know I can’t help it.” You lean up to see the sight in front of you. Both men hard enough to keep you up till sunrise and your eyes light up right then. “Oh, look what we have here..” your tone was playful as you got closer, keeping an eye on them but also the way both their pretty cocks stood in excitement for you.
Reaching out you went to Patrick first. Letting your soft but experienced hand stroke him a bit, just to feel his thickness grow in your embrace.
“Shit..” the word slips from him and you sucked in your bottom lip as you went to work, innocently watching his expression as you stroked him so calmly but with devotion.
“Y’know… I never got a kiss.” The man uttered and you scoffed kittenishly before hovering your lips above his, smooching just once before Patrick went in hot, reaching behind you to palm at your ass and inch you forward to him. You yelped mixed with a string of giggles, pushing him down on the bed so you can climb on top of him.
“Get this off,” your voice was playful and flirty as you pulled Patrick’s shirt over his chest and arms. “You too, Art.” the blonde was quick to follow.
Your dripping core was just inches above Patrick's erect member. You sat at top of his body, just smiling and admiring the view. But it was a known fact the man underneath you was quite impatient, especially when you’d been running your hands down his chest the way you were, acrylic nails doing their own thing by the texture of the hair lightly trialed there.
“You gonna show me how you ride like an angel, princess ? Or should I do it myself ?” You were blushing right after his words, nodding a bit, your hands lead down farther to find his dick, brushing it up against your clothed slit as you sucked in your breath. With just a couple adjustments, you were leaning up so you could fit Patrick’s thick and full cock inside of you. A whimper immediately breaking through you as you sunk down. And the brunette didn’t hold back for a second as he held your hips, thumb kneading against the mesh fabric of your panties and watching the way you move so gracefully above him.
Art was too drawn in by the scene to have even remembered to get himself prepared. He hadn’t touched his cock, but you knew what to do.
Reaching out, you gently took Arts chin in your palm as you brought him close. Still going up Patrick’s cock as you kissed the blonde nice and slow. You all were beginning to be a mess of moans. “Touch yourself while we fuck, okay ?” You whispered against Arts ear. It caused him the most delightful chills. He didn’t think twice as his own hand went to his cock. And you started bouncing on Patrick, whimpering and moaning out like their hadn’t been people in the next door rooms — your hair springing off your skin with you.
“There you go, doll… take my dick. You’re so fucking hot.” Patrick grunted as he held your waist so you could fuck yourself against him, leaving no space between as you rocked yourself on his lap. Your mouth went agape when he readjusted to pound up into your tight hole,
“Yeah- - was I the hottest angel out there tonight ?”
“Fuck yeah..” the brunette grabbed you with roughness so you’d been flush with his chest, you smiled as he made your pussy clench hard frantically and your moans turned into stuttering whines. Taking him like this, you knew you’d cum. So you then hit on his chest to let you up, that way you could save your next high just a little longer.
“Oh- - shit… shit,” you climbed off of the man and sniveled out as you flipped your hair out of your face.
“Oh my god.. baby, I was so close.”
“Not yet. Art, come fuck me.” Your directness had turned the blonde on so much he could feel his cock twitch at your words. He met you, and with one look at your gorgeous set gaze on his and a smirk on your lips it set his thoughts wild. His tongue darted out to wet his own lip as you smiled up at him, you finally got rid of your bra now, and slipped off your panties before placing a hand on his neck tenderly as the other slid up his chest. Arts eyes locked with yours, he just watched you with a coy little sideways smile. And when you turned around, your ass was at his crotch, you were bending over near the bedspread and he sucked in his breath. “Oh, shit..” the blonde muttered. And it made you giggle girlishly.
You were pushing your soaked pussy on Arts member, “my god, you’re so wet.” He announced just ready to pump you full himself, but he knew he wouldn’t want anything to ruin the sweetness of the moment. So he let his tip meet your core, you observed with wide eyes, his dick perfectly pink and dripping of pre cum. You were practically salivating at the sight. “Fuck her good, Art.” Patrick chimed in and the blonde pushed into you with a deep groan leaving his throat, you gripped at the sheets as your face scrunched up and your jaw went hanging. Art slowly moved his hips against you, mouth agape at the sight of your ass against him heavily. Arts hand kneaded against your hip.
You spread your legs a little farther apart to take him. All of him. Moaning like you’d been split in half, Art started to thrust nice and easy. It made you reach back to grab his muscly arm for support and he grunted from the sight of your teasing eyes watching him, you always just had to see Arts face whenever he fucked you, because he was so pretty. Especially like this — chest glistening and damp curls as he made escalating noises exit you. You regularly told him he would be successful if he ever gave modeling a shot. Although he never believed you, thinking you were just being kind. But you really meant it. Art was delicious on the eyes. And not that he took any away from Patrick (him being too pretentious even for the modeling industry anyways) but they each had their own beauty to serve in different ways. Arts gorgeousness came straight from good genes. And just like his face, so did his cock. Wonderful and thicker than most guys his age, especially when he put it to good use like you and Patrick occasionally showed him.
You smile beneath your bitten lip and mewls at your other delectable boyfriend, Arts sly grin was in response and when he pounded into you faster, you felt the bed shake. You couldn’t hold back as you began to scream his name. It was always in the front of your mind to make Art feel good when you knew he struggled with his shyness at times unlike the brunette.
“Yes ! Yes, oh fuck- - make me cum, Art !”
“Yeah ? ..You like that ?” The blonde huffed as he snapped his hips into you,
“Uh hu… harder- - fuck it, just like that.”
Art let his hands palms at your ass, then slide up your torso to cup your breasts. Gripping them in his hands as you slid yourself up and down his member. “Your tits are fucking perfect, oh my god.” You felt slick running down your inner thigh, sheets tight in your palms as your eyes began to roll.
Patrick who watched right beside Art, was jerking himself to the sounds of your syrupy moans. You looked too angelic on Arts cock, he couldn’t help it as his free hand smacked down on your ass while you fucked yourself on Art. It made you both groan. And you loved it, your flirty smile said it all.
Art felt full enough to cum in you right then, the sight of your cunt spread against him was starting to make his head spin. “I’m gonna fill you up pretty girl, you ready ?” It was quick thrusts and a mixture of your half screams and half moans of “fuck, Art!” Filling the noise of the room before you were gushing around his dick. And he was spilling inside of you like that, an uncontrollable amount of his seed was painting your walls and the blonde made sure to get every last drip of it in your sweet cunt. The other man l beside him pumped his cock quick to releasing on your back side all with a string of groans and curses.
You didn’t collapse on your stomach just yet, not only the feeling of the two boys marking their territory on you being too excellent of a feeling to end just yet, but because Art crouched to lick at your puffy cunt. He tasted the mixture of you and him (with Patrick flowing into the mix) as you let out soft whimpers against the pillows. The brunette gripped your ass cheeks to help and you wiggled from the pleasure with a sigh of giggles. “naughty girl.” He smirked, the other licked up what was left of all of you like a pro. Your toes flexed and curled with the punch of his tongue.
“Fuck. That was amazing. You were amazing. ” Was all he could say when he collapsed on he comforter beside you with a deep breath and you turned on your back too. Slowly coming down from trembling. Art wrapped an arm over your body as he rested against your shoulder and you smile.
“That was the most fun I’ve ever had- - ever.” Your laughter was light and Patrick to your side got close to your body too, you let your hand gently caress his jaw.
“They weren’t gonna give you that at the after party we’re they ?” He grinned.
“No. Definitely not.” you shook your head with the sweat on your face only making your half ruined makeup look better somehow. Your love spell body shimmer still stuck to your skin and even got on Art and Patrick’s sculpted bodies pretty nicely as they gently rubbed you down. You smiled before tapping above your cheek bones, and both of your boys knew what to do. They left a two sweet kisses for you.
#challengers#art donaldson#patrick zweig#x reader#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson x reader#challengers fic#art donaldson smut#artrick#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig x reader#mike faist#josh o'connor#challengers smut#artrick x reader#artrick smut#challengers x reader#challengers fanfic#fanfiction#victoria secret#vs angel reader#chlmtsdoll writes
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Batman and the Dr.'s Fenton sharing embarrassing photos of their kids.
Maddie gushed, "And look! This was taken when Jazz wanted to be a model!"
A picture of a tiny toddler in a sparkly princess dress, a tutu, and a crown posing dramatically was shoved into his face.
Jack wiped away a tear, "I remember it like it was just yesterday! She strutted across the kitchen like a supermodel!"
Batman wondered idly if Jason would've wanted him to get him that photo of his girlfriend, but he decided not to say anything as he just nodded.
Maddie showed off another one with a waning smile. "And look! This one is Danny! He was so scared of water when he was little! He couldn't even take baths!"
Bruce just stared at the photo of a baby Danny who was clinging onto Jack like he was a lifeline, feeling incredibly a little jealous that the two doctors got to have child pictures of their kids.
He reached into his waist pouch and pulled out his own photos. He opened it and presented the first one to Maddie, which was one of Robin beating up his first villain. Dick was grinning, missing a tooth and bloody as he stood over his fallen opponent.
Jack grinned. "That's amazing! Reminds me of that time where Jazz and Danny were also practicing their moves on some dummies when they were five..."
"Five and seven," Maddie corrected and then cooed as Batman showed another pic. This one was of Jason after a long night of patrol. He had fallen asleep in the Batmobile for the first time.
"Oh!" Maddie said. "I have one of Jazzy and Danny asleep in the car too! Wait, let me find it—"
Behind a wall, Batman's family and Jazz and Danny were staring at their parents in horror.
"Should... should we stop them?" Danny asked in shock.
"... alright, I'm going to light the kitchen on fire as a distraction," Tim said, as Batman started showing off more pictures of him in his Robin era.
Jason said, "Wait, let me see more pictures of Jazz before we go."
Jazz turned red. "Jason!"
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#danny fenton#jazz fenton#anon ask#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#anger management ship#hardcover ship#jason x jazz#ty for the ask!#fenton family#maddie fenton#jack fenton
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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (11)
MASTERLIST | Basketball Player!Rafe & Supermodel!Female Reader
Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.
Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.
Word Count: 4.4k
Aliyah's Notes: LIFE IS GOOD DONT KYS GUYS!!!!!
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing Rafe’s penthouse in all its cold, modern glory. You stepped inside, arms full of a precariously stacked pile of boxes, your eyes scanning the pristine place. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the city, but it was the sterile, minimalist decor that always caught you by surprise.
“Wow,” you muttered, setting the boxes down with a grunt. “So this is where personality comes to die.”
Rafe appeared behind you, carrying a single suitcase and looking annoyingly relaxed (and sexy). “You’re welcome for letting you upgrade your life,” he quipped, tossing the suitcase onto the sleek leather couch. “From your childish apartment to the lap of luxury. I’m a real hero.”
“Hero, my ass,” you turned to him, hands on your hips. “And this place has all the warmth of a dentist’s office.”
He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Clean, sharp, and no clutter.”
“Well, get ready for that to change,” you shot back, heading to another box. You pulled out a bright orange vase with swirling patterns and held it up with a triumphant smile. “Because this is going front and center.”
He froze mid-step, staring at the vase like it was radioactive. “No.”
“Yes,” you replied, your smile widening as you marched toward the nearest shelf.
“No,” he repeated, moving to block your path. “You’re not seriously bringing that ugly vase into my penthouse. I have standards.”
You held the vase above your head, as if presenting it to the decor gods. “Typical white man behavior,” you declared. “This must be the colonizer in you that’s stopping me from doing what I want—”
“I knew you’d start saying those things,” Rafe shook his head.
“Just because it’s colorful and unique, it’s ‘ugly’ to you.”
He crossed his arms as he looked between you and the vase. “It’s not colorful, YN, it’s an eyesore. It doesn’t ‘pop’—it assaults.”
“You wouldn’t know real art if it hit you in the face,” you retorted, setting the vase down triumphantly on a shelf. “This is staying.”
“It’s not art—it’s a cry for help,” Rafe muttered, shaking his head as he reached for the vase.
You smacked his hand away. “Touch it, and I’ll bring all of my colorful vases here.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
You leaned in with a devilish grin. “Try me.”
The standoff had been interrupted by a loud thud as another box had toppled from the stack you had brought in. Rafe turned to survey the mess, raising an eyebrow. “What else did you bring? Your collection of weird cat figurines?”
“I’ll have you know Lady Purrsalot is a legend,” you said, brushing past him to rescue the fallen box. “And yes, she’s staying too.”
Rafe let out a dramatic groan, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed the pile of your belongings filling the space. “Perfect. My penthouse is about to turn into a shrine to bad taste,” he muttered.
You shot him an incredulous look, hands on your hips, before flashing him a playful but smug smile. “This isn’t bad taste, it’s cute.”
“If I find anything glittery, it’s going straight in the trash.”
Your eyes narrowed, giving him the full force of your best glare. He winced, immediately muttering a sheepish “sorry,” his hands up in surrender. You gave him a satisfied nod, knowing he'd learned his lesson.
“You agreed to this when you accepted to marry me,” you said, your voice smooth but laced with a challenge. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow as though daring him to argue.
He sighed dramatically, leaning against the wall. “I didn’t know ‘marriage’ meant signing up for interior design hell.”
Your lips quirked upward as you threw a glance at the now-established vase. “Don’t worry, fiancé, I think you’re handling it really well for someone who just got a major upgrade in life.”
“Can’t help it,” he smirked, and stepped closer to you. “You’re kind of hard to resist,” he paused, eyes glinting with something that wasn’t just playful teasing. “Even when you’re trying to torture me with your cat figurines.”
You chuckled, stepping around him and tossing a few more things onto the shelf—mostly knick-knacks and personal items that would soon add a sense of comfort to the otherwise sterile space. You could feel the tension between you two, a quiet undercurrent of attraction, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.
“You have hands, and a cold shower to help you, Rafe,” you told him, rolling your eyes. “Nothing’s happening.”
“Who said something was going to happen?” he smirked, and you wanted to wipe that smirk off his beautiful, beautiful face. “Are you thinking of naughty—”
“That’s enough communication for right now,” you clapped your hands. “We have more stuff to do.”
You both continued to unload boxes in comfortable silence, the sounds of moving things around punctuated by banter every now and then. Rafe was doing half of the work—he said he’d prefer you standing back and watching him take charge—and you did not mind, at all. The penthouse was big enough that it gave you space to spread out your things. Eventually, though, the once-overwhelming pile of boxes began to dwindle, and the place started to feel a little more like home.
“Alright, I think that’s the last one,” Rafe said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead as he stacked the final few boxes in the corner. “I’m exhausted.”
You nodded, and gave him a smile. “Thanks for the help, big arms. I would’ve taken 24 years to finish it all,” you told him and laughed.
“You’re going to make me blush,” he joked, and you laughed some more. “Alright, now that the worst of it’s done, how about I give you the grand tour? I know you’ve been here a few times, but not everywhere. Let me show you the full deal.”
You sighed and gestured dramatically. “Lead the way.”
With a self-satisfied grin, Rafe led you down the sleek hallway. He threw open the first door with a flourish, revealing a space so minimalist it was almost sterile. “My office,” he declared.
You peeked inside, noting the barely-touched desk, the pristine shelves, and a gaming console taking up prime real estate. “Wow,” you deadpanned. “Really grinding out those business emails, huh?”
“Hey, I do plenty of work,” he said defensively. “Like checking stats, signing autographs… crushing high scores.” You rolled your eyes but followed as he moved to the next door, revealing a home gym. “State-of-the-art equipment,” he boasted. “Not that you’d know, since you don’t lift.”
“Rafe, I’m literally a model. I do pilates, yoga, and weight training.”
“Pilates doesn’t count,” he shot back, smirking. “That’s just stretching with extra steps.”
“Asshole,” you muttered, shaking your head.
He took you through a theater room, complete with plush recliners and an oversized screen, and then to his master bedroom. The sheer size of the space made you pause. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a stunning view of the city skyline, and the decor screamed effortless luxury. You hated that it impressed you.
“Alright, you’ve had your little brag session. Can I go back to unpacking now?���
“Not yet,” he said, walking ahead of you. He stopped in front of the guest room—your room now—and pushed the door open. “Saved the best for last.”
You stepped inside, your eyes immediately catching on the changes. Gone was the sterile, hotel-like vibe. Instead, the space felt warmer, more personal. The bedding was a deep crimson red, bold and striking, and a textured rug covered the hardwood floor. Your favorite candles were neatly arranged on the windowsill, and a small vase of fresh flowers sat on the nightstand. Even your books, the ones you thought you’d packed, were already shelved on the built-in.
Your brows furrowed as you took it all in. “Why are the covers red?”
Rafe, leaning casually against the doorframe, hesitated for a beat before replying. “You know… because you…”
A teasing grin spread across your face. “Are you racially profiling me because I’m South Asian?”
His eyes widened slightly, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “What? No! That’s not—”
You cut him off, crossing your arms with mock seriousness. “Oh, sure. Just because I like vibrant colors, you think red is my personality now?”
“Okay, first of all,” he said, “you do like vibrant colors. Second, red is bold, classy, and badass—like you. So stop making me sound like a jerk.”
You raised a brow, still trying to stifle your laughter. “Smooth recovery, Cameron. Real smooth.”
“Thanks,” he said, flashing you a grin. “I aim to please,” he teased, though his smirk softened slightly. “Maids come every three days, by the way, so you don’t need to worry about keeping the place spotless.”
You crossed your arms, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “You mean I didn’t have to bring a box of cleaning supplies?”
“Nope,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “But it was cute watching you haul it up here.”
Your mouth fell open. “You let me carry that thing around when you knew I wouldn’t need it?”
“You seemed determined,” he said, his grin widening. “I didn’t want to crush your little homemaker dreams.”
You groaned.
You collapsed onto the oversized sofa with a dramatic sigh, sinking into the soft cushions as though they could swallow you whole. Your body ached from the day of unpacking and dealing with Rafe’s incessant commentary.
Rafe plopped down beside you, equally worn out but still managing to look annoyingly composed. He stretched his long legs across the coffee table, earning a glare from you.
“Feet down,” you muttered, voice muffled by the throw pillow you’d buried your face into.
“Make me,” he quipped, but the usual edge of teasing was dulled by the clear exhaustion in his tone.
You turned your head to give him a tired look, too drained to argue properly. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re bossy,” he shot back, though there was no real heat in his words. “But look at us. Day one of living together, and we didn’t kill each other. I’d say that’s progress.”
You snorted, turning to face him fully. “Barely. That vase almost did you in.”
He smirked, eyes glinting with mischief despite his fatigue. “You’ve got a lot of nerve bringing that thing into my house. It’s offensive to art.”
“It’s staying,” you declared, closing your eyes and sinking further into the couch. “I’m too tired to argue anymore.”
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, a stark contrast to the usual whirlwind of your dynamic. The dim lighting in the penthouse bathed the room in a soft glow, it was peaceful, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe turn his head, his gaze resting on you. But it wasn’t fleeting—his eyes lingered, studying you in a way that felt tender. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, his usually sharp blue eyes softened by the warmth of the moment. It was as if he were memorizing the curve of your cheek in the dim light, the way your hair fell over your shoulder, the quiet calm in your expression. It made your skin tingle under his attention, your pulse quickening despite the stillness.
“You did good today,” he murmured, his voice stripped of its usual cockiness, leaving only a quiet sincerity that caught you off guard.
You opened one eye to glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks...”
He shrugged, his lips curving into a small, crooked smile that made him look younger somehow, softer. “I mean it. This place… it already feels different. Warmer,” he admitted, his eyes flicking briefly to the room before returning to you. They lingered, holding yours in a way that made your breath hitch—like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing. “And not just because of that god-awful vase.”
A laugh escaped you, light and unguarded, filling the space between you. It felt good—freeing, even. The knot of tension in your chest began to loosen, melting away under the weight of his rare vulnerability. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now, Cameron,” you teased, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a quiet chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch.
The peace was interrupted by the faint buzz of your phone in your pocket. You groaned, pulling it out to check the screen. The sight of the message made your stomach twist all over again.
“Mom and Dad are flying in next week. They want to see you.”
Rafe noticed the change in your expression immediately. “What’s up?”
You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the screen before locking the phone. “Nothing. Just… family stuff.”
He didn’t press, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if trying to figure out what you weren’t saying. Instead, he let his head loll back again, closing his eyes.
“Family stuff, huh?” he murmured. “Well, if it’s anything like mine, I recommend a lot of wine. Or tequila.”
You huffed a quiet laugh, though your chest still felt tight. The idea of seeing your parents again—after everything—was a storm brewing on the horizon. But for now, with Rafe beside you and the weight of the day finally catching up, you let yourself push it to the back of your mind.
“Noted,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You always wear socks indoors.” he said suddenly.
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What?”
He nodded toward your feet, wiggling his own toes for emphasis. “The socks. You’ve been in them all day. Do you ever just… go barefoot?”
You looked down at the patterned socks you were wearing—yellow with tiny sunflowers. “I like socks. They’re cozy,” you replied defensively. “Not all of us can just parade around barefoot like some child.”
Rafe snorted, shaking his head. “You’re missing out. Bare feet are freedom.”
“Freedom? That’s dramatic,” you shot back.
“Dramatic is wearing sunflower socks in a penthouse,” he countered, gesturing toward your feet.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Alright, since we’re apparently sharing quirks, what’s with the candle obsession? You’ve got, like, ten of them over there.”
Rafe followed your gaze to the collection of candles on the coffee table and nearby shelves. “What can I say? I like a good vibe,” he said, shrugging.
You raised an eyebrow. “Big, tough basketball player… lighting candles to set the mood?”
He grinned, leaning slightly closer. “I’ll have you know those candles are luxury. That one—” he pointed to a sleek black jar, “—is oud wood. Costs more than your vase, I’m sure.”
“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “You’re just scared of the dark.”
“Not scared,” he corrected. “Just prepared. You never know when the power might go out.”
“Uh-huh. Sure,” you said, sinking further into the cushions.
For a moment, the banter lulled, and you both stared at the flickering flame of one of the candles. Then, out of nowhere, Rafe spoke again. “I can’t whistle.”
You turned to him, blinking in surprise. “What?”
“Whistling,” he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “Can’t do it. Never could.”
A grin spread across your face, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Wait, really? You’re telling me Mr. Perfect Athlete can’t whistle?”
“Laugh it up,” he said, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Everyone’s got their thing. What about you? What’s something random you can’t do?”
You thought for a moment before admitting, “I can’t snap my fingers. Like, no matter how hard I try.’”
Rafe’s eyes lit up, and he immediately sat up straighter. “No way. Let me see.”
You demonstrated, rubbing your thumb and middle finger together in an attempt to snap. The result was a sad thud.
He laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “That’s terrible.”
“Shut up,” you said, trying not to smile. “At least I can whistle.”
“Debatable,” he teased, leaning back again. “Bet your whistle sounds like a dying bird.”
“I know you’re not the one talking right now—you can’t even fucking whistle,” you shot back.
“Touché,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
The conversation flowed as easily as the soft light from the candles, meandering through odd confessions and surprising revelations. You were tucked into one corner of the oversized couch, legs crossed beneath you, while Rafe sprawled in his usual casual way, one arm slung along the back of the sofa as he toyed with a loose thread in the cushion.
“So, wait,” he said, his brows furrowing in mock disbelief. “You’re telling me you’ve never watched a single episode of The Office?”
“Not one,” you replied, unapologetic. “I’ve seen the memes. Isn’t that enough?”
Rafe placed a dramatic hand over his chest, like you’d just personally insulted him. “No, Y/N, that’s not fucking enough. You’re missing out on peak comedy.”
“I prefer my comedy with a little more effort, thank you,” you teased.
“Effort? It’s genius! Dwight Schrute alone could carry a show.”
You smirked. “Is this your idea of a personality test? Judging me based on sitcom preferences?”
“Yes!” he said, deadpan. “It tells me everything I need to know about you. And so far? Not looking great for you, wife.”
You reached over and shoved his arm lightly, laughing. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here I am, willingly living with you,” he shot back, grinning.
“Willingly might be a stretch,” you countered, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “Alright, since we’re trading weird facts, here’s one: I can recite the entire opening number to Wicked by heart.”
His brows lifted in surprise, but there was amusement in his gaze. “No way. Wicked? That’s the one with the green witch, right?”
“Yes, that’s the one with the green witch,” you said, mimicking his tone. “It’s a masterpiece, by the way.”
“If you say so,” he said, holding his hands up. “I just… didn’t peg you for the Broadway type.”
You shrugged, a little defensive. “What can I say? I like stories that stick with you.”
“Okay, fair. But you’re gonna have to prove it one day. Full performance.”
“Fuck no,” you said quickly, chuckling. “Your turn. What’s something no one would guess about you?”
He hesitated, looking away like he was searching for the right thing to say. Finally, he said, “I used to draw. Like, a lot.”
Your head tilted, curiosity piqued. “You? Draw? That’s amazing… but I can’t picture it.”
“Yeah, no one can,” he said with a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “I stopped when, uh, I got serious about basketball. But back in the day, I was obsessed. I even sketched my own sneaker designs once. Thought I’d have my own line or something.”
"That's actually really cool," you said, your voice warm with genuine admiration. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, sparkling with a curiosity that made his chest tighten.
For a moment, Rafe just looked at you, taken aback by the way you seemed so invested in his words, like what he said actually mattered. No one had ever looked at him like that before—not with real interest, not like this.
He cleared his throat, glancing away as a flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression. “Nah,” he said, his tone lighter than the weight in his eyes. “They’re long gone. Just... a stupid kid thing, anyway.”
“It wasn’t stupid,” you said, surprising even yourself with the firmness in your tone. “You should try it again. Who knows? Maybe you’d still be good at it.”
He looked at you, his expression unreadable for a long moment, before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe.”
The moment stretched between you, warm and unspoken, until you finally broke it with a grin. “Okay, random question: what’s your weirdest food combination?”
Rafe laughed, the sound low and genuine. “You’re gonna judge me for this.”
“Definitely,” you said without hesitation.
“Alright, fine. Peanut butter and pickles.”
Your jaw dropped, and you stared at him like he’d just confessed to a crime. “You’re joking.”
“Dead serious,” he said, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“No, thanks,” you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s some white people shit.”
“Your loss,” he said, smirking. “What about you? What’s your weird food thing?”
You hesitated, then admitted, “Okay, don’t laugh… but I dip fries in milkshakes.”
His face lit up with mock offense. “And you call me disgusting?”
“Hey, it’s a classic!” you defended.
He opened his mouth to say something, probably asking another weird question, but before the words could leave his lips, the sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the cozy atmosphere.
Rafe groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Who the hell—”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe it’s one of your girlfriends that you didn’t tell me about.”
“Funny,” he deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched as he stood up.
Before he could reach the door, the muffled sound of voices filtered through, followed by another ring—longer this time, like someone was leaning on the buzzer.
“Open up, Rafael!” a familiar voice called out.
“Oh, great,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for the door.
Sarah, JJ, and Aisha entered, bringing the kind of chaos only they could manage. Sarah deposited a pizza box on the living room table with a dramatic flourish, while JJ hoisted a takeout bag in the air like a trophy.
“Food’s here, peasants,” JJ announced, dropping onto the couch beside you as though he owned it. He nudged your leg with his knee, grinning like a kid who’d just pulled off a prank. “You’re welcome for saving you from whatever sad dinner you were planning.”
“JJ, be polite,” Sarah muttered as she flopped onto the rug with a container of fries.
“Polite is boring,” JJ retorted. “You’re welcome for making your life exciting.”
“You’re fucking annoying,” Rafe said, sitting next to his sister.
“See? That’s gratitude,” JJ replied, leaning back and helping himself to the fries Sarah had claimed.
Aisha rolled her eyes as she set plates on the table. “I didn’t know people like him existed until twenty minutes ago.”
“Thank you, beautiful,” he said, winking at her.
“Anyway,” Sarah cut in, already swiping a slice of pizza, “what were you two up to before we so graciously interrupted?”
“I was gonna ask her dream place to live,” Rafe said, his voice carrying a teasing edge as he leaned against the counter. “But I guess we’ll never know now, thanks to you guys.”
“Oh, we’re not letting that go,” Sarah declared, pointing a fry at you. “Spill it. Where’s your dream home?”
You waved her off. “It’s not that interesting.”
“Now you have to tell us,” JJ said, sitting up straighter with exaggerated curiosity. “Somewhere glamorous, right? Like Paris? Or Cleveland. I feel like you give Cleveland energy.”
You stared at him, incredulous. “What does that even mean?”
“Cleveland has a vibe!” JJ insisted.
“No one says that,” Aisha shot back, throwing a balled-up napkin at him.
Sarah shook her head, laughing. “I’m guessing you’re a Milan or Tokyo kind of girl. Am I close?”
“Closer,” you admitted, smiling despite their relentless pestering. “London. Somewhere with smarter, and more fun people.”
“Cool,” Sarah said with a grin, nodding approvingly.
“Basic,” Rafe quipped, earning a pillow to the chest from you.
“Say that again, and I’m redecorating this whole place with vases,” you shot back, crossing your arms.
“Vasegate continues,” JJ deadpanned, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “What a tragic tale.”
“Can we talk about how you two are already bickering like an old married couple?” Aisha said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s very domestic in here.”
Rafe snorted. “Please. If this is domestic bliss, I want a refund.”
“He’s been annoying since this morning,” you countered, smirking at Rafe. “He’s been critiquing my interior design all day. He’s very invested.”
“Someone had to be,” Rafe shot back, but his eyes softened when they met yours, the teasing edge in his voice blunted by something warmer.
“I think it’s cute,” Sarah interjected, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “You guys are like one of those sitcom couples that secretly loves each other but spends every episode pretending they don’t.”
“Excuse me,” JJ said, raising his hand like a teacher’s pet. “If this is a sitcom, I’m the fan-favorite supporting character. Just putting that out there.”
“You wish,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes.
“And what does that make me?” Aisha asked, feigning offense.
“The responsible one who keeps everyone from burning the house down,” you said with a laugh, nudging her shoulder.
“Accurate,” Sarah replied, grinning.
“But seriously, this is nice. All of us hanging out. It feels... cozy,” you said, with a small smile.
JJ gasped dramatically. “Is that sentiment I hear? Someone mark the calendar!”
“Watch your mouth, Maybank,” Rafe warned.
The conversation flowed easily after that, bouncing from JJ’s ridiculous anecdotes about being chased by geese to Sarah recounting a disastrous double date she’d been on. Rafe chimed in with sarcastic remarks that made everyone laugh, and even Aisha’s usual composed demeanor cracked when JJ impersonated Rafe’s annoyed voice.
At one point, Aisha leaned over to you, her voice low. “You seem happier,” she said, her eyes soft.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“With him,” she said, nodding subtly toward Rafe, who was currently trying (and failing) to win an arm-wrestling match with his sister. “I don’t know. There’s just... something lighter about you.”
Your gaze shifted to Rafe as he laughed at something JJ said, his shoulders relaxed, his grin unguarded. He caught your eye for a moment, his expression softening in a way that sent a ripple through your chest.
You turned back to Aisha, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said simply, and she gave you a knowing look before standing to help gather the empty containers.
By the time everyone started leaving, the penthouse felt fuller, warmer. Sarah and JJ bickered their way out the door, and Aisha hugged you tightly, her smile lingering as she said, “You deserve this. Don’t forget that.”
As the door clicked shut behind them, you leaned against it, the quiet settling back in. Rafe glanced up from where he was stacking empty pizza boxes, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head as you pushed off the door. “Just... thinking.”
“That’s never good,” he teased, his smirk softening as you joined him to help clean up.
And as you cleaned side by side, the thought lingered: maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the chaos you’d expected. Maybe it was something better.
chapter twelve
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jungkook fic recs
main masterlist
· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations
i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))
pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️
disclaimer: if you came back to read that one fire fic you liked but can´t find it, its bc the link wasn´t working anymore so I deleted it :/
last updated: 25/11/2024
yandere / mafia / bad boy
romantic dreams - ( @kooktrash ) yandere!jungkook, tattoo artist jk, boxer!jk, UGHH ITS GOODDD, he´s so toxic frfr, namjoon is sick of his ass lmao, totally obsessed with reader, jealous and possesive af, he´s crazy sdlfjs but i´m into it
toxic noona - ( @aajjks ) yandere!noona, toxic controling relationship, jk is a victim, he´d rather die than leave, reader likes to make him cry, manipulation
yours insanely - ( @smileyoongle ) yandere!jk, serial killer jk, detective!reader, he kills women who look like you, so interesting to read
darknet - ( @darkestcorners ) yandere!jk, the internet is scary, human trafficking, jk is scary dangerous, it´s a LOT, just wow
who is in control? - ( @ctrlsht ) yandere-ish, lawyer!jk, posessive jk, obsessive jk, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, secret relationship, he´s cray-cray
hybrid au / soulmate au / super hero au / alien au / supernatural au
bunnytalk - ( @woncon ) bunny hybrid jk, owner reader, jk is a sad bunny bc reader won´t return his feelings but it´s all just a misunderstanding
night vision - ( @bonny-kookoo ) e.r, alien!jk, suggestive, lowkey smut, bunny hybrid reader, jk has tentacles ,,,,,nothing else to say, flirty fluffy jk, this is dIFFERENTTTT i love it
closer - ( @blublublujk ) smut, step siblings au, noona reader, yandere!jk, jk is obsessed with him older step sister, WHEWWW this is intense, very detailed, loved it
your eyes tell - ( @angellesword ) soulmate au, angst, fluff, happy ending, artist!jk, lawyer!reader, "you live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?" a whole 2020 throwback, we don´t see fics with multiple chapters often, back then they were so good, like this one!
obsessed with your scent - ( @angelguk ) soulmate au, alpha werewolf!jk, omega!reader. jeongguk’s obsessed with your scent but he doesnt know he’s your mate bc you take suppressants. PLEASEEE I NEED A MOVIEEE, miss author you really made my 2020 better, thank you and ily
slice of life / university-college au / idol
you make him go crazy - ( @onlyswan ) fluff, idol!jk, slight angst, multiple scenarios, reader is constantly making him go nuts, he is STRESSED lmao, it´s cute anyways, reader is kind of a careless brat but jk wouldn´t have it any other way
you wear his clothes - ( @nochukoo97 ) fluff, thing is...HE gives you his clothes, he´s so boyfriendd
screw up; over wine - ( @koocycle ) finance major jk x model!reader, first date drabble, he is really into reader so he takes her to a fancy pricey wine and dine but guess wHAT.. he is broke lmao so he straight up PANICS, lowkey highkey secondhand embarrasment but it´s jk so it ends in a cute way
kiss me better - ( @jaykaysthicthighs ) angst, jerk jk, mean jk, misunderstanding, manhandling, he is crying bc he assumed she was cheating but he was sooo wrong, now he is begging, crying, throwing up,,, they make up anyways, its angsty in a satisfying way
you´re sleepy but you promised you´d go grocery shopping with him - ( @thvhoe ) e.r, its cuteeeee
couple questions with vogue - ( @kjdkive ) fluff, e.r, idol!jk, supermodel!reader, I LOVE THISSSS, he is the best boyfriend/fiancé soon to be hubby EVER UGHHHH its so cute
devoted to trouble - ( @jeonsweetpea ) fluff, lil angst, smut, comedy, spiderman!jk au inspired by seven??? a masterpiecE. the world finds out he is spiderman but he dgaf bc he only cares about you, #pininggg, reader playing hard to get, man i love tHIS
show you what devotion is - ( @thvhoe ) boxer!jk, ballerina!reader, fluff, angst. you´re like his safe place, it´s giving exes to wannabe lovers, they deff like each other and jk wants to eat her uP but he´s wants it to be romantic and stuff, idk idk I liked itttt
you surprise him for his birthday - ( @nochukoo97 ) he´s so boyfriendddddd, this is so wholesome and cute
he can´t sleep bc he loves you so much - ( @onlyswan ) now THIS makes me want to drink bleach and die bc of how cute it is, THEY ARE SO IN LOVEEEE, there´s a lot of giggling, a lot of praising, a lot of disgustingly sweet loving talk after sex :´)))))) its such a good read i promise
fighting heart - ( @kooktrash ) boxer!jk, fluff, angst, he´s so stressed sldfkj, reader gets in a small accident and jk went crazy when a nurse answered your phone
daft pretty boy - ( @jeonqkooks ) basketball cap!jk, classmates to lovers ig, see he´s smart but when he´s with you he gets nervous and forgets how to exist, he lowkey confesses and he´s sraightforward with itt, he´s got a hUGE crush on you lmao
ride - ( @ohjeon ) strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, jk is a fucc boy on campus, reader has tattoos and rides the coolest bike, jk has an instant crush, love at firts sight i would say, got him blushing and sweating lmao, this is an on going series but I KNOW it´ll be gREAT, I love it already
in your arms - ( @kookslastbutton ) e.r, fluff, smut, morning secs, waking up by his side for the first time after moving in
encore - ( @jjungxkook ) game designer!jk, he is cool af, has a fat crush on reader, this is just the teaser of the fic but I really like it
crave you - ( @7deadlysinsfics ) idol!jk, crack, smut, fluff, hispanic choreographer reader, texting, taejikook, jk is HORNY but he´s a softie too, he´s got a big big fat crush, strenght kink bc we all know he can throw her around like a ragdoll
pretty girl - ( @bts-trash-blog ) smut, tattoo artist!jk, chubby reader, THIS IS ITTTTT, he´s tall, dark and handsome, flirty af too, "pretty girl" stFUUUU, they both want to fuck so he shoots his shot at the tattoo appointment
easy - ( @itsamejin ) angsty, fuckboy jk, bet!trope, jk plays you so he can get his rent paid, i read this one a lawwngg time ago and decided i was an angst loving hoe
Inevitable - ( @ahundredtimesover ) angst, fluff, smut, lovers to exes to lovers, baseball player!jk, dad!jk, parents au, you break up with jk years ago after you got pregnant bc you wanted him to follow his dreams and now he´s back home just to find out there´s a boy who looks just like him.. this is a masterpiece, honestly one of THEE best jk series out there, it has it all fr, the angst is angsty and the fluff is FLUFFY, i love it sm i´ve read it 3 times and never get tired of it
finish line - ( @bonny-kookoo ) fluff, nerdy!jk, racer!jki loooooveee itttttt, so cute, so fluffy, this blurb uGHHHHH, just read the whole thing pls
ungodly hour - ( @explicit-tae ) crack, smut, fluff, college au, broke college student!reader, lowkey slutty!reader, jk is thirsstttyyyyy, simping atp, "who´s dick do i have to suck for a hulu account?" this series is honestly so funny ksjakskjs
disney + and bust - ( @1kook ) angst, fluff, smut. yall already know i love to see man crying and begging for forgiveness :p, so kook is ur succesfull "app developer" bf and he says some very hurtfull things to you out of anger
rattled - ( @gukslut ) complete series, single dad au, angst, smut. honestly? one of the best fics out there. I read this a long time ago and i´m still in awe. The way this is written makes you feel every word. also, the plot is so so unique. i love it.
pu$$y fairy - ( @angelguk) smut, college au, non-idol, fuckboy!jk, virgin!reader, this is a 2020 old but gold, i read this a long time ago and still love it to this day
sweeter than strawberries - ( @cinnaminsvga ) shy baker!jk, college student!reader, noona!reader ??, s2l, mutual pining, cute cute cuteeee, another 2020 banger, i love how lenghty they used to be
you wrote jk a confession letter but he didn’t see it - ( @angelguk ) fluff, small brain big heart!jk, college au, non-idol, LMAOOOO this was funny asl, 2020 did it again, i loved this
frost impressions - ( @fortunexkookie ) soccer coach!jk, teacher!reader, gamer au, work au, idiots to lovers, one sided pining at first, it´s a longggg one. another 2020 masterpiece, one of my favorite fics out there, he´s so disgustingly smitten with his new coworker that he ends up making a terrible first impression. so so so entertaining and fun to read, jk is silly af lmao, can´t stop putting his foot in his mouth, theres a bunch of cute second hand embarrasment situations
ceo au / sugardaddy au / rich bf au / coworker au
Over The Odds | The Confession - ( @jungk0oksthighs ) ceo jk, sugardaddy jk, jealous bf jk, sugar baby reader, he gets mad and yells bc he is lowkey insecure of her ex but reader is equaly in love. this is a series
wrong time - ( @spideyjimin ) smut, angst, dilf!jk, ceo!jk, exes to lovers, workaholic as a scape mechanism, the one that got away type of stuff but she broke things up first for valid reasons, big big heartache but she´s still the love of his life
don´t blame me - ( @ctrlsht ) sugar daddy!jk, ceo!jk, soft yan!jk, obsessive!jk, student!reader, unhealthy behavior on his part, manipulative behavior on her part, jealousy on both parts, he goes a lil too far but reader is bitchy and annoying, he lit gives her everythinggg she asks for, the man is..creazy about her in a very unhealthy way and she takes advantage of that, toxicc
failed quickie - ( @vminizzle ) cowerker jk, suggestive, they´re about to fucc on an elevator but it didn´t work, he likes his hair pulled!!1!
someone older - ( @bonny-kookoo ) smut, ceo jk, divorced jk, 30 something yo jk, taehyung has a kid, younger oc, its a nice read, would do it again
break up au / cheating au / fuckboy au
night after night - ( @brown-bi-beautiful ) smut, angst, crack, fluff, semi-retired fuckboy jk, red flag jk, stalker jk, break up au, lovers to exes to lovers, he fucked around and found out so he is FREAKING ouT, also he is beggING okk.. we love that, he also has a Harley bc he is bad boy™, they make up anyways bc he is pussy whipped.. or in love, whatevs you wanna call it
seven plus one - ( @jvngkoos ) smut, angst, they break up for like a week and that shit got him SIMPING fr, standing under the rain begging and stuff, the man is obsessed, we love it
pwp / fwb
you good?? - ( @mono-moonchilds ) drabble, smut, "what if you gave jungkook head?" is righT bc i´ve been thinking about it for a min!!! he is mean ok yall know he is a brat buT, the head is too good to do all that, the man was shaKINg for godssakeee, so good he had to answer with a thumbs up bc reader drained him fr, left him so brain dead he couldn´t even speak
afterglow - ( @elitekook ) smut, fwb!jk, slight possessive!jungkook, dirty talking, degrading nicknames, but he cares ok, he´s trying to get out of the friend zone
come sit on my lap - ( @euphoricfilter ) pwp, lots of praisingg, they way this is written is good yall, "use me" , “so polite” shUT UPPPP im literally blushing, AND he is also cute at the end?? i hate it heREEE :´)
he has a lot of cum - ( @euphoricfilter ) boyfriend!jk, the title I- , he DOES have a lot of cum, lots of stamina, lots of everYTHING, and on toP of those small details, wdym he wants to see how many times he can cum in you before it´s too full and it starts to spill????? somebody stop this man
riding jungkook´s nose - ( @euphoricfilter ) we´ve ALLL thought about this, and if you haven´t you´re lying, periodt. pRAISINGGG, he´s in a pussy-drunk frenezy, he likes feeling used, he likes getting his hair pulled, he likes getting his face wET, it´s sickenINGGGG goreaditplease
fucking in the gym - ( @euphoricfilter ) this was inspired by that one pic of him and jimin with their back out, I SEE THE VISION, fucking with ceiling mirrors
wicked - ( @noteguk ) smut, incubus!jk, big big corruption kink, lots of dirty ploting and dirty talk, yupppp this is a good one, so detailed, love me a fic that lit makes me see what i´m reading
fuck buddies - ( @angelguk ) smut, angst, non-idol, fwb au, jk wished you were more than just fwb
#jungkook fic recs#bts fic rec#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#yandere jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook seven#soft yandere#yandere!jungkook#mafia au#mafia!jungkook#boxer!jungkook#pwp fics#jungkook pwp#bts pwp#jungkook#jungkook x you#jungkook bts#jeongguk x reader
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