#i need a cat on my screen today

[floradelisstuff]

Cat illustrations created by editing recent photos of my cat...

[sixeyesonathiel]

WHEREVER YOU WANT IT, BABY, I’M TAKING YOU THERE!

↳ being married to gojo satoru means never knowing peace. or underwear.

4.4k words of domestic filth inspired from that one tiktok audio

cw: light degradation, praise kink, mild dacryphilia, food play (whipped cream, batter), dry humping, mild exhibitionism, marking (hickeys, biting), mild overstimulation, explicit language, 18+ only, minors DNI.

a/n : made a version with suguru for my bbg lyra here!

ON THE COUCH.ᐟ

you’re sunk into the couch, legs tucked under the plush throw you’ve had since forever, the one satoru swears smells like your shampoo. the TV’s glow bathes the living room in soft blues, your favorite show’s theme song chiming through the speakers.

you’re halfway through a bowl of popcorn, kernels scattered on your lap, determined to actually watch this episode without your husband derailing you. it’s your comfort rewatch, the one you’ve seen enough times to recite the lines, but it still hits every time. you’re mid-bite when you feel him—satoru, your personal chaos agent, already sprawled across your lap like a cat who’s never heard of personal space.

his head’s nestled against your stomach, white hair a mess from where he’s been nuzzling into you, and you can feel the warmth of his breath through your—his—t-shirt, the one you stole years ago and never gave back. it’s loose, slipping off one shoulder, and his fingers are already sneaking under the hem, tracing lazy circles on your skin.

“baby,” he whines, voice low and syrupy, lips brushing just under your ribs, “you’ve seen this episode a million times. i haven’t been in your mouth once today.”

you don’t look at him, eyes glued to the screen, though you’re barely processing the dialogue. “you said you wanted to cuddle,” you mutter, popping another kernel in your mouth, trying to sound unbothered. your heart’s already picking up, traitorously aware of how his touch sparks heat under your skin.

“i am cuddling,” he insists, shifting so his body presses closer, one muscled thigh sliding between your legs, nudging them apart. you can feel the denim of his jeans through your thin shorts, rough against your inner thighs, and the warmth pooling low in your belly betrays you.

“just, y’know, with benefits.” he adds, his lips curling into a grin you don’t need to see, and he nips at the soft skin above your waistband, making you jolt.

“satoru,” you warn, but it’s weak, half-hearted, and he knows it. his hand slips higher under your shirt, fingers grazing the underside of your breast, thumb brushing just shy of where you want it. you shift, trying to focus on the TV, but he’s relentless, mouthing at your stomach now, slow, wet kisses that leave your skin tingling. “i’m watching.”

“watch, then,” he murmurs, voice a low rumble against your hip. he tugs your shorts down an inch, just enough to expose the lacy edge of your panties, and his lips find the sensitive spot right above. “don’t miss the good part, sweetheart.” his tone’s teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a hunger that makes your breath hitch.

he pulls you forward, guiding you to straddle his thigh, the sudden pressure of his leg against your core making you gasp. your hands grip the couch cushions, popcorn bowl tipping precariously, but he steadies it with a chuckle. “careful, baby. don’t waste snacks.”

his hand’s between your legs now, fingers brushing over your panties, slow and deliberate, feeling how you’re already soaking through. “fuck,” he breathes, almost to himself, eyes glinting up at you, blue and predatory in the TV’S light. “you’re this wet and still pretending you care about your show?”

he presses harder, circling your clit through the fabric, and you bite your lip, trying to stifle a moan. the characters on screen are arguing, but it’s just noise now, drowned out by the thump of your pulse.

“shh,” he whispers, when a soft whimper escapes you, his free hand tugging the throw blanket over your lap. “can’t hear the dialogue.” he’s mocking you, smirking as he slips his fingers under your panties, grazing your slick folds.

you’re grinding against his thigh without meaning to, the friction of denim and his deliberate touches pushing you closer to the edge. every time you get too loud—a gasped “satoru”or a shaky moan—he leans up, kissing you sloppy to muffle the sound, tongue sweeping into your mouth like he’s claiming it.

“quiet, baby,” he teases, pulling back to nip your bottom lip. “you’re drownin’ out the plot.”

you’re a mess already, shorts bunched around your thighs, panties pushed to the side, and he’s barely touched you. the blanket’s slipping, and he grabs it, draping it over your shoulders with a grin.

“perfect,” he says, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “you love this thing, don’t you? let’s put it to good use.” he shoves it against your mouth, pressing it there as he slides two fingers inside you, curling them deep. your muffled cry vibrates into the fabric, and he laughs, low and filthy. “fits, doesn’t it? you and your cozy shit.”

you’re trembling, thighs shaking as he works you, his thigh still pressed against you, encouraging the desperate roll of your hips. the TV’S forgotten, just a blur of colors and sounds, but he’s not done playing.

“eyes on the screen,” he orders, free hand gripping your chin to turn your head. “this is your favorite part, right? where they confess or whatever?” you can’t answer, too lost in the stretch of his fingers, the way he’s dragging you toward release. your moans are louder now, barely stifled by the blanket, and he pulls it away, tossing it aside. “fuck it,” he growls, “i wanna hear you.”

he’s bored of teasing, you can tell, because he’s moving fast now, yanking your shorts and panties down completely, leaving them tangled around one ankle.

“over the table,” he says, voice rough, and before you can process, he’s got you bent over the coffee table, popcorn bowl knocked to the floor, kernels crunching under his feet. your hands brace against the wood, cool against your flushed skin, and he’s behind you, jeans unzipped, pressing into you in one slow, deep thrust that makes you sob.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, hands gripping your hips so hard you’ll bruise. “you feel so good.” the table creaks with every snap of his hips, the tv still blaring behind you, your favorite character’s voice a mocking backdrop to the way he’s ruining you. he leans forward, chest against your back, and grabs your chin again, forcing you to look at the screen. “don’t tap out now,” he pants, thrusting harder, “this is your comfort episode, right?”

you’re crying now, tears of pleasure and overwhelm streaking your cheeks, your body shaking as he drives you toward the edge. every thrust is deliberate, hitting that spot that makes you see stars, and his voice is a constant stream of filth “love how you take me,” “you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” “gonna make you come so hard you forget this stupid show.”

you’re incoherent, babbling his name, nails scratching at the table as your orgasm hits, a white-hot wave that leaves you trembling, clenching around him.

he’s not far behind, groaning your name as he spills inside you, his thrusts slowing but not stopping, drawing out every last shudder from you. when he finally pulls out, you’re a wreck, collapsing against the table, panties still dangling off one ankle, tears smudging your mascara. he’s laughing, breathless, pulling you back onto the couch and into his lap, the throw blanket draped over you both like nothing happened.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, softer now, kissing your temple as he grabs the remote. he rewinds the episode, smirking as he feeds you a piece of popcorn and you’re too blissed out to do anything else but chew.

“guess we both got our favorites tonight,” he says, voice smug but warm, his arm tight around you. your legs are still shaking, and you nuzzle into his chest, the theme song starting again as you mumble something about hating him. he just laughs, kissing your hair, and you know you’re in for it all over again tomorrow.

IN THE BED.ᐟ

you’re drifting in that hazy space between sleep and waking, the kind where the world feels soft and warm, like you’re cocooned in a dream you don’t want to leave. the sheets are tangled around your legs, your tank top rucked up from tossing in the night, and you’re vaguely aware of the faint morning light slipping through the curtains.

but then you feel it—satoru’s weight shifting behind you, the mattress dipping as he presses closer, his bare chest warm against your back. his breath ghosts over your neck, slow and deliberate, and you know he’s been awake for a while, just waiting for you to stir.

his arm’s already slung over your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach, possessive but gentle, like he’s anchoring you to him. you feel him, hard and insistent, grinding lazily between your thighs, the thin fabric of your panties doing nothing to dull the heat. “mm,” he hums, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice thick with sleep and something hungrier.

“good morning, wife.” his words are soft, but there’s that edge to them, the one that makes your heart stutter even half-asleep.

you groan, burrowing your face into the pillow, the cool cotton a brief escape from his intensity. “satoru, it’s too early,” you mumble, voice muffled, though you’re already shifting back against him, instinctive, your body betraying your weak protest.

he only chuckles low, vibrating against your spine, and he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, slow and wet, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“never too early for you, angel,” he murmurs, his hand sliding under your tank top, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, then higher, cupping your breast with a reverence that feels almost too sweet for him. his thumb grazes your nipple, teasing it to a peak, and you suck in a breath, eyes fluttering open despite yourself.

“been dreamin’ about you,” he says, kissing down your shoulder now, each press of his lips a deliberate worship. “couldn’t help myself.”

“you’re so creepy,” you mutter, but there’s no heat in it, just a sleepy laugh as you turn your head to peek at him.

he’s already staring, blue eyes soft and molten in the dim light, his white hair a tousled halo against the pillow. he’s grinning, that lovesick, idiot grin that makes your chest ache, and you can’t help but reach back, fingers tangling in his hair. “watching me sleep again?”

“guilty,” he admits, not even pretending to be ashamed. he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he can lean over you, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. thank you for marryin’ me.” his voice cracks a little, like he means it too much, and you’re torn between rolling your eyes and melting completely.

“sappy idiot,” you whisper, but you’re smiling, pulling him closer until his lips find yours, soft and unhurried, all morning haze and warmth. t

he kiss deepens, his tongue slipping against yours, and you feel his hand slide lower, tugging your panties down just enough to press his fingers between your thighs. you gasp into his mouth, and he swallows it, murmuring, “shh, let me say good morning properly.”

it’s slow at first, all lazy touches and quiet gasps, his fingers circling your clit with a patience that’s rare for him. you’re still half-draped in sleep, your moans muffled against the pillow as he works you open, his lips trailing down your spine, leaving a constellation of hickeys where your neck meets your shoulder.

“mine,” he whispers, over and over, like a prayer, each word punctuated by a kiss, a nip, a mark that says you’re his. you’re soaking now, hips rocking against his hand, and he groans, low and needy, grinding harder against your thigh.

“satoru,” you breathe, voice shaky, and he hums, pleased, flipping you onto your back with a gentleness that makes your heart flip. you blink up at him, and he’s a vision—hair messy, eyes glowing with something too tender, too raw.

“wanna see your face, angel,” he says, grinning as he leans down, kissing your forehead, then your eyelids, then your lips again, like he can’t get enough. his fingers are still moving, slow and deliberate, and you’re trembling, legs spreading wider to give him more.

he pulls back just enough to tug your panties off completely, tossing them somewhere in the sheets, and you’re bare beneath him, tank top pushed up to expose your stomach. he kisses lower, lips grazing your navel, then the soft skin just above your core, his tongue tracing the outline of your ring finger where your wedding band glints in the light.

“fuck, i love this,” he murmurs, sucking gently on the digit, his eyes locked on yours. “love you.”

you’re a mess already, whining when he settles between your thighs, his breath hot against your slick folds. he doesn’t tease for once, just dives in, tongue lapping at you like he’s starving, and you cry out, hands fisting in his hair.

he’s relentless, sucking and licking until you’re bucking against his face, and he’s moaning like he’s the one getting off, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

“taste so good,” he pants, pulling back just to spit on you, watching it drip before diving back in, and you’re sobbing, the pleasure too much, too perfect.

when you’re close, he crawls back up, kissing you sloppy so you taste yourself on his tongue, and you feel him nudge against you, hard and leaking. “ready, baby?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours, and you nod, breathless, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he slides in slow, inch by inch, and you both groan, the stretch so good it makes your toes curl. he’s deep, filling you completely, and he stills, just for a moment, letting you adjust, his lips brushing yours.

“love you,” he says again, thrusting slow and deep, his hand finding yours, fingers interlacing. your ring glints between your joined hands, and he kisses it, then you, his eyes never leaving yours. it’s intense, the kind of eye contact that strips you bare, and you’re both pathetic, gasping messes, your nails digging into his back as he moves. “you’re so perfect,” he murmurs, voice breaking, “my wife, my everything.”

you’re coming before you realize it, a slow, rolling wave that has you clinging to him, sobbing his name, and he’s right behind you, groaning into your neck as he spills inside, his thrusts stuttering. e

he doesn’t pull out, just stays there, buried deep, his weight grounding you as you both catch your breath.

he nuzzles into your hair, rubbing slow circles on your back, and murmurs, “five more minutes. need to be home a little longer.”

you hum, content, your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady under your cheek. the sheets are a mess, your tank top’s somewhere around your collarbone, and you can feel him softening inside you, but neither of you moves. he’s drawing lazy patterns on your hip, whispering how much he loves being married to you, and you’re grinning, too in love to care about the morning chill or the fact that you’ll need to wash these sheets later.

“you’re such an idiot,” you mumble, kissing his chest, and he laughs, soft and warm, pulling you closer like he’ll never let go.

ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER.ᐟ

you’re in the zone, apron tied loosely around your waist, the kitchen alive with the hum of your favorite pop playlist—satoru’s insistence that it’s “our jam” still makes you laugh. flour dusts your hands, the air sweet with vanilla and sugar as you whisk pancake batter, the morning light streaming through the window.

you’re flipping a pancake, singing off-key to some cheesy chorus, when you feel him—satoru, your walking disaster, sneaking up behind you. his arms snake around your waist, firm chest pressing against your back, and his chin rests on your shoulder, breath hot against your neck.

“baby,” he purrs, voice low and playful, lips grazing your ear, “you’re too sexy in this apron. makes me wanna eat you instead.” his hands slide under the fabric, fingers teasing the hem of your shorts, and you feel him, already hard, grinding subtly against your ass.

you snort, not turning around, focusing on the skillet. “you ate an hour ago,” you say, voice steady despite the heat creeping up your spine. you flip the pancake, the sizzle masking the hitch in your breath as his fingers dip just under your waistband, tracing the skin there.

“not talkin’ about food,” he murmurs, licking a smear of batter off your cheek, slow and deliberate, his tongue warm and teasing.

you swat at him with the spatula, half-laughing, but it’s shaky, your body already betraying you. “satoru, i’m cooking!” you protest, but he’s undeterred, hands slipping lower, tugging your shorts down an inch to expose the lacy edge of your panties.

“and i’m starvin’,” he whines, dramatic as ever, but there’s a growl beneath it, hungry and raw. before you can argue, he’s lifting you onto the counter, effortless, like you weigh nothing. the mixing bowl wobbles, batter sloshing, and you grip his shoulders, flour-covered hands leaving white prints on his black t-shirt.

“satoru, the pancakes—” you start, but he’s already between your legs, spreading them with a nudge of his hips, his grin wicked.

“fuck the pancakes,” he says, grabbing the whipped cream can from the fridge, shaking it with a flourish. “gonna taste-test my favorite dessert.” he sprays a messy heart on your inner thigh, the cold cream making you gasp, and you laugh, shoving at his chest, but it turns into a moan as he leans down, licking it clean, his tongue slow and filthy, eyes locked on yours.

“satoru, you’re wasting it!” you scold, but your voice cracks, your hands tangling in his hair as he nips at the sensitive skin.

“waste?” he scoffs, pulling back to lick a stripe of batter off your finger, sucking it into his mouth with a low groan. “this is art.” he tugs your shorts and panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them off, and dives in, mouth hot and relentless against your core.

you cry out, head tipping back, the counter hard under you as you grip the edge, knocking over a measuring cup. flour scatters across the surface, and he’s moaning into you, like he’s the one getting off, his tongue circling your clit with a precision that makes your thighs shake.

“fuck, you taste better than anything,” he pants, pulling back just to spit on you, watching it drip before diving back in, his fingers joining now, two sliding inside you, curling deep. you’re a mess, gasping his name, your apron bunched around your waist, flour smudged on your thighs where his hands grip you.

he grabs the whipped cream again, spraying a dollop right above your clit, and licks it off with a filthy moan, the cold cream and his warm tongue a dizzying contrast that has you bucking against his face.

you’re close already, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming, but he’s not done playing. he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and grabs a spoonful of batter from the bowl, smearing it across your collarbone. “messy girl,” he teases, leaning in to lick it off, his teeth grazing your skin.

you’re whining, desperate, pulling at his shirt, and he finally gives in, unzipping his jeans and pushing inside you in one swift thrust, the stretch making you sob. the spatula clatters to the floor, and you’re clutching his shoulders, nails digging in as he moves, fast and deep, the counter creaking under you.

“mm, let’s make every mornin’ cream-filled,” he groans, licking more batter off your neck, his thrusts relentless, knocking measuring spoons and a bag of sugar to the floor. you’re incoherent, babbling his name, your legs wrapped around his waist as he drives you higher.

“so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he murmurs, grabbing your hand, sucking the flour off your fingers as he fucks you, his other hand circling your clit until you’re screaming, the orgasm hitting hard, your body shaking, clenching around him.

he’s right behind you, groaning your name as he spills inside, his thrusts slowing but not stopping, drawing out every last shudder. the oven beeps, shrill and insistent, but neither of you cares, too caught up in the messy, blissful aftermath.

you’re panting, slumped against him, the counter sticky with flour, cream, and batter, your apron a crumpled mess. he’s laughing, breathless, kissing you sloppy, his hands still roaming like he can’t stop touching you.

“fair trade,��� he says, eyeing the skillet where the pancakes are charred to a crisp. you smack his chest, breathless, muttering, “you’re cleaning this.” he just grins, licking a stray bit of whipped cream off your neck, and says, “worth it.” you’re both giggling, feeding each other burnt pancake scraps, flour still smudged on his cheek, and you know the kitchen’s a disaster, but your marriage is thriving, sticky and sweet as the mess you’ve made.

ON THE STAIRS.ᐟ

you’re halfway up the stairs, each step creaking under your furious pace, the crumpled receipt in your hand like a smoking gun. “satoru, three hundred dollars on towels?” you snap, whirling around to glare at him, your voice echoing in the narrow stairwell. “towels? we have lights! electricity! a mortgage to pay!”

he’s trailing behind, hands stuffed in his sweatpants pockets, looking infuriatingly unbothered. his white hair catches the dim glow of the hallway light, and that stupid, lopsided grin is already curling his lips.

“they’re plush, baby,” he says, shrugging like he didn’t just blow a small fortune. “like you. thought it’d be romantic.” his blue eyes glint, teasing, and you can tell he’s not taking this seriously, which only makes your blood boil more.

“romantic?” you hiss, gripping the banister so hard your knuckles whiten. “we could’ve bought a new couch! or, i don’t know, groceries for a month?” you wave the receipt in his face, and he has the audacity to lean forward, squinting at it like it’s a museum exhibit. “you’re impossible!”

he steps closer, one stair below you, towering over you despite the height difference. “c’mon, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice dropping low, “you married a brat. you knew what you were gettin’ into.” his hand darts out, grabbing your ankle, and before you can react, he tugs you down a step, making you stumble into him.

“satoru!” you squeal, clutching his shoulders to keep from falling, the receipt fluttering to the floor.

“what?” he says, all mock innocence, but his hands are already sliding up your calves, rough and warm, stopping just under the hem of your shirt. “you’re cute when you’re mad.” he’s grinning now, full-on, and you want to smack him, but his chest is pressed against yours, and you can feel his heartbeat, steady and maddeningly calm.

“come here and spank me about it, then,” he murmurs, leaning in, lips brushing your jaw.

“you’re not gettin’ outta this,” you mutter, but your resolve’s crumbling, his breath hot against your skin as he kisses down your neck, slow and deliberate. your hands betray you, tangling in his hair, and he hums, pleased, nipping at your collarbone. “i’m serious, satoru—”

“so am i,” he growls, and suddenly he’s kissing you, hard and sloppy, backing you up against the railing until it digs into your spine. the stairwell’s narrow, the steps uneven under your feet, but he’s got you pinned, one hand hiking up your shirt, the other tugging your panties down just enough to bare you. “let’s see how mad you really are,” he says, pulling back to smirk, his fingers brushing between your thighs, finding you already wet. “oh, baby, really mad, huh?”

you groan, half in frustration, half in need, and he takes that as permission, lifting your leg to hook it over the next step up, the angle opening you to him. “satoru, we’re on the stairs,” you hiss, but it’s weak, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fumbles with his sweatpants, freeing himself. he’s hard, leaking, and when he presses against you, you both moan, the sound echoing in the tight space.

“fuck, you’re so perfect,” he groans, pushing in deep, one rough thrust that makes you cry out, your head tipping back against the wall.

the railing’s creaking, the stairs shifting under his weight, but he’s relentless, fast and feral, each snap of his hips driving you higher. “say you forgive me,” he growls, biting your neck, his teeth sharp enough to leave a mark. you’re sobbing, swearing at him—“you’re such an idiot”—but your body’s begging for more, hips rocking to meet his.

“never,” you gasp, but it’s a lie, and he knows it, laughing breathlessly as he sucks on your fingers, moaning around them like they’re candy.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he pants, his pace brutal, the sound of skin on skin loud enough to drown out your protests. you claw at his back, still muttering about the towels, but it’s incoherent now, lost in the haze of him filling you, stretching you, owning you.

when you come, it’s with a scream, your body shaking, clenching around him so tight he curses, his thrusts stuttering as he follows, spilling inside you with a groaned “fuck, baby.”

you’re trembling, barely holding onto the railing, and he’s not done, his fingers slipping between your legs again, circling your oversensitive clit. “still mad?” he murmurs, smirking, and you hiss, “yes,” but your voice breaks, your legs wobbling as he keeps teasing, pushing you toward another edge.

“liar,” he laughs, kissing you soft now, a contrast to the chaos of before. you’re a wreck, panties tangled around one ankle, shirt rucked up, and he’s still grinning, like he’s won the lottery.

you try to step up, legs shaky, but you stumble, and he catches you, scooping you up bridal-style. “told you the towela were worth it,” he says, carrying you toward the bedroom.

you smack his chest, muttering about the mess on the stairs, but he just kisses your forehead, tossing you onto the bed with a, “round two for the towel tax?”

you’re too spent to argue, pulling him down for more, the receipt forgotten on the stairwell floor, your marriage as chaotic and perfect as ever.

[bi0hxzxrd]

got a drive thru burger after thrifting some blank t shirts to screen print on what a good day so far

[spacebell]

when I say that I hate kids I mean that I hate that my seven year old cousin doesn’t understand boundaries

[maiiuelle]

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rafe got you a nintendo switch in hopes of keeping you occupied — not that he doesn’t like to spend time with you, it’s just that he’s a very busy man, and you need a distraction when he’s off handling business.

your cozy game addiction started with an innocent folder on his phone, and now rafe’s paying for your annual nintendo online membership. you have all the basics — mario kart, stardew valley, pokemon, and your favorite, animal crossing.

obsessed is an understatement — your manicured hands are glued to your baby pink nintendo switch at all hours of the day, hard at work on your animal crossing island. your intense focus on decorating keeps you from hearing rafe return home, his eyes skimming over where you’re laying over the arm of tannyhill’s leather couch.

“you’re still playing that goddamn game?” he sighs, squinting at you in disbelief that you’re not coming to hang off of him like you usually do. instead, he swaggers over to where you’re sitting with his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

“yeah, rafe. i have a lot to do.” you respond matter of factly, not bothering to take your eyes off the little screen. “i have to catch all these fish before next month, pay back my home loan, and decorate the campsite. and that’s just today, if i can get through it all.” you shake your head at the stress, but you shrug as if it’s unavoidable, still laser focused on planting flowers in the game. “i want my island to be pretty and nice for my villagers. i mean — if i don’t take care of it who will?”

you finally pause, lowering the switch to cover your mouth suddenly. “ew.. i sound like you.” you peer up at him looming over you, your head practically hanging off the side of the couch.

“wh—what?” he rears back, visibly offended. “i do not sound like that, okay — first of all.” he gestures to himself, poking at his chest through his preppy collared shirt. “‘n i don’t talk to fuckin’ cats all day, alright? i got real business — real shit i gotta take care of.” he smacks his hand, trying to drive home the point for you. then, like the realization had just hit him, he presses his lips into a line, tapping his temple. “y’know what? at least now maybe you can understand the stress i’m under runnin’ all this shit.”

you raise your eyebrows at him, his frustrated tirade only proving you right. “you’re right, you sound totally different.”

“aight, i’m done with you. seriously.” he throws his hands up, his short fuse slowly fizzling out. “you gonna put that away and gimme a kiss or not?”

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[floradelisstuff]

Down the River... My photos of the Loire River near Castle Chaumont

[sourco0kie]

Self Awareness AU - Prologue

You huffed as you placed your controller, playing this game each day has gotten boring, Especially when there’s no to little update to the game. When it does updates it’s only bugs fixes or some features getting removed.

With a disappointed sigh, you closed steam and opened google to watch youtube. You searched the general if there’s any interesting video that would catch your attention. One for your favorite youtuber catches your interest and instantly you click on it.

You groan in displeasure as an ad starts playing, with no other choice you decide to wait for the five seconds for the skip ad button. The ad starts playing and.. It instantly catches your attention. The quality of the game and the voice acting intrigued you. Especially this one character with an ice cream cone for a hat having that magical girl transformation.

You went on deep research about the game, seeing what it will bring to the table. You watch a few videos about the story and it’s interesting enough and well written. You were so hyped when you found out the game is available on PC you went and download it, so you won’t force your phone to die more for the game.

You instantly download it, and once installed you open the app for another download. Typical. You happily waited for it and were super hyped about the intro animation. You played on, already loving the characters, oh how you favor Gingerbrave!

You played everyday, not missing a single day! Heck you even began trying to draw in the unique artstyle, even as you never draw in your entire life. Each time you gacha, you prayed on getting either an ancient or a beast. And either would be good for your team. As of current you favor Strawberry Crepe Cookie for their amazing defense and skill.

On a particular day as you log in, everything feels.. Different. The front loading screen felt odd. You brush it off and log in the game, doing your missions and creating stuff you need for the laboratory research. One of the cookies, Affogato Cookie, has a speech bubble. You clicked on it expecting the usual repeating dialogue but this time it’s different. “My, My you look quite lovely.”

Ok. A bit creepy but okay.. Maybe that’s just a new dialogue the game added? But there’s no small update requirement from the game, odd. You paid no mind to it as it’s a regular occurrence. Sometimes the cookies would have a self awareness dialogue.

You continued on playing the game with no more weird occurrences, just the normal game. You speed run through the cryspia story already passing the hollyberry kingdom. You kept on losing in the dark choco chapter so you decide to just gather up your power first before continuing.

The sound of your alarm snapped you out of your game run. Glancing at the time you realized it’s already time for one of your online classes. You closed the game, going to your kingdom one last time just to be met by Gingerbrave saying; “Pure Vanilla Cookie would love to know how radiant you are!”

You paused, staring at the screen with a shiver under your skin. You brush it off and log out the game to open your class in session group. For 30 minutes you listen to the professor explain about today’s lesson. Suddenly the sound of your phone notification caught your attention, you were about to pick up before it started to shake.

You gasped, watching as a blue hand reached out from your phone. “What-”

“TA-DA! The star of the show has arrived!~”

The hand clenched the edge of the table, using it to leverage the infamous of a Diva jester pulled himself out. “Wooow.. quite a lovely place of living you got here, need a little more blue for color though. But you won't be needing to change things since you're coming with me.”

You stare with your mouth gape open. Meeting with a powerful jester was NOT on your list today.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Ooh don’t be afraid dear, I don’t bite, unless..”

“NOPE-” You grabbed the nearest item which was your notebook and threw it at him, he barely dodged it. He frowned before smirking again as he tilted his head with his hands clasped together, placing his cheek against the back of his hand.

“Adorable attempt, dear. But you gotta do more than tha-”

A pen smacked square on his face, He stares at you, unphased “That..” he continued. “Your humble knight has arrived to bring you home!~”

“Home!?” The jester laughed, “don't fret, I don't bite.. too hard!” He grabbed your shirt and yanked you towards your phone.

Everything was.. black, no light as you stared at the abyss before a sudden flash of colors blinded you. The birds chirp to one another as they fly above you. The light from the sun blinded your vision a bit before you adjusted. You glance around, noticing your surroundings.. are odd.

Everything smells so sweet. Too sweet for your liking.

The sounds of leaves rustling snapped you out of your daze, your attention instantly went towards the bushes. Looking around, spotting one that's moving.

Stepping a bit back away from the bushes you stayed quite, not daring to make noise and startled the.. whatever it was in the bush and attacked you. Carefully you picked up a nearby stick as a weapon, if it would do anything.

Something pounces out the bushes scaring you as you leap back and fall on your back. It barks as it approaches you and sniffs the air. You opened your eyes seeing it was just a cake hound.

Wait.. Cake hound!?

[spicygrilledscorpio]

Cat got her tongue - LN

Summary: Y/n is in heat and is too shy to ask for Lando’s help. While her lovely boyfriend decided to be a tease.

Warnings: SMUT, horny!shy!reader, teaser!Lando, fingering (f!receiving), pet names, penetrative sex, unprotected (don’t do that), orgasm denial (i think that’s it lemme know if missed any)

Notes: My first fic hit 1k i’m so happy, thank you for you guys support. Also still English is not my first language so sorry if anything sounds weird. Hopes you guys enjoy 💗

_________________________________________________

Y/n is probably the shyest person Lando ever met, and that’s also his favorite thing about her. However surprisingly, Y/n and Lando have a very high sex drive. Because of y/n’s shyness, she never says no to Lando, but he always makes sure she’s ok with it of course.

However, today was another case. They were chilling on the sofa in Lando’s apartment. Her boyfriend was sitting on the ground playing Fifa while she was lying on the sofa reading her new book. Everything was going alright, Y/n managed to focus and successfully finish 2 chapters until she reached the “spicy part��� of the book.

“With a groan, he pushes into her while she gasps out loud, adjusting to his size…”

Y/n’s face starts burning as she squeezes her thighs together as she looks down at her boyfriend. As much as y/n wants to ask Lando, which she knows he will be willing to help her, she’s too shy. Normally, y/n never has to ask for an orgasm, she’s actually getting too much of it. Lando’s friends tease him saying that they’re like bunnies, always on top of each other. However, in this particular situation, she needs him. Y/n tries to shift her attention back to the book, but the words just fly through her head and she can’t help but imagine Lando on top of her. Y/n’s whole body was on fire and her face practically looked like a tomato and ready to explode at any given moment.

“Lan-” Y/n can’t help but call out for his help

“Hm?” Lando asks, eyes still glued to the screen

Y/n sat up and looked at him but didn’t reply

“What’s wrong baby?” Lando turns around to look at her red face

Y/n still doesn’t reply but looks at him with teary puppy eyes, hoping he’ll get it and help her out. Lando did indeed figure out what’s going on with his girlfriend but instead of helping her out, he decided to be a tease

“Can’t help you if you don’t tell me, hm?” He questions in a teasing tone, moving up to join her on the couch, face only inches away from hers. His hands were on her hip as he guided her to straddle him. Y/n had her arms wrapped around Lando’s shoulder as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, still struggling to get her words out because of her shyness and the overwhelming feeling of needing to be satisfied. Hip grinding down onto his crotch letting out some quiet whimpers.

“Use your words, princess,” Lando said in a stern voice, whispering in her ears.

“Need you” Y/n can’t help but let out a small whimper, given she’s almost half naked, only wearing panties and Lando’s sweater, sitting on her fully clothed boyfriend.

“At least use your manners, god,” Lando says mockingly. Watching her cute face getting flushed everytime she gets shy, Lando just can’t stop teasing his beloved girlfriend. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” She mumbled into his neck

“God, you’re so fucking cute” Lando chuckled. Their hands moved down to take off her panties. His fingers start going up and down her folds, collecting your wetness. “You’re soaked”

Y/n’s face gets even redder, looking like a chili at this point. She hates it when he says things like that, just because it makes her even more embarrassed than before, which is also why he loves dirty talk, he loves seeing her crumble for him. Lando’s fingers start rubbing her clit in a circular motion, drawing soft moans from her.

“I-I’m close” Y/n moans as Lando inserts two fingers inside of of her. Thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, he starts scissoring her, touching her G-spot in every thrust. But just when she was about to cum, he took his fingers out. She finally removed her face from his neck just to look at him in confusion.

“Not yet”

“I want you to ride me” Lando whispers in her ears, sending shivers down her spine. Y/n frowns and pouts looking at him, not happy from being denied her orgasm and being demanded to ride her boyfriend. Well, not that she had a problem with it, just that she is shy, and she’s pretty much a “pillow princess”, and Lando loves her since he prefers being on top anyways. However, since he’s in the mood for teasing her to her breaking point, Lando makes her ride him.

“That’s the only way you’re getting off, princess” Lando states looking at your pouting face, extremely unsatisfied with her boyfriend.

Y/n shuffles to unzip his pants and pull down his boxer, revealing his hard member, now leaking precum. She lowers herself slowly, having a hard time adjusting to his size. After taking in all of him, Y/n starts bouncing on his cock. She tries biting her lips to muffle her moans, throwing a tantrum since she’s still not happy from her orgasm denial earlier. However, her intentions fail miserably, as Lando's hands sneak down to stimulate her clit and she can’t help but let out a loud moan. His mouth covered her nipple and start sucking it, adding to the pleasure.

Y/n’s legs were shaking from the overstimulation and her speed slowed down. She can barely ride him at this point and just grinds on him, but it wasn’t enough. She knows she needs his help, but still finds it hard to speak up.

“All you have to is ask, bunny,” Lando said as he saw her slowing down

“Please,” Y/n says with tears welling in her eyes, on the brink of rolling down.

Lando holds her hips and starts moving her up and down on him, combined with his thrusts upward, he’s hitting all the right spots. The sounds of their skins slapping together with wet sounds of her arousal and his precum filling the room. Y/n’s pretty sure that their sofa is ruined for good but that’s not their focus right now.

“Lan I’m cumming” The overwhelming feeling took over her, pushing her to the edge.

“Cum for me princess”

Y/n squeezes her eyes shut as she’s about to cum “Eyes on me baby” Lando demands, always loving to see her face when she’s falling apart for him. Y/n keeps eye contact with him while she cums, just the way he likes it, and lets out a loud squeal, milking him as he spills inside her. Lando lays her down on the couch as he pulls out of her, parting her legs and staring at his cum leaking out of her hole. Lando takes his phone takes a picture and puts it in his hidden album.

“Do you have to stare?” Y/n asks, squeezing her thighs together to hide it.

Lando just chuckled and went to get a towel to clean her up.

“I love you so much, even though sometimes i think cat got your tongues, you’re so cute”

[bi0hxzxrd]

got a drive thru burger after thrifting some blank t shirts to screen print on what a good day so far

[roseyodditea]

early in a relationship with a sudden needy and touchy lighter?🥺

I told myself I'd get around to writing this after studying for exams and that was... TWO WEEKS AGO!?? WHOOPSIE!!!

Surprise Visit - Lighter x gn!Reader

Summary -> 700 words. Cute little wake up to a clingy Lighter. Warnings -> Not proofread. Written on little sleep. A/N -> I am so sorry this took so long to write. I'm an engineering major and had five exams in two weeks (I did good on all of them tho)

Lighter is a hard man to get close to. There are very few people he let closer than just an arms length away, like a feral alley cat. You had practically snuck your way in through his defenses with a few well placed pushes from Ceaser and one too many times Burnice “accidentally” left you two alone. It worked like a charm, of course, and before you knew it Lighter was taking you out on motorcycle rides under the stars, riding into New Eridu just to grab a coffee with you, and even upgrading his phone just so he could text you more consistently. 

You stirred awake at an hour far too early only to see a text from Lighter gracing your phone screen.

Lighter <3: “Busy today?”

Rolling over lazily to snatch your phone off of the nightstand, you squint at the light before tapping a quick reply.

You: “It’s too early to think but I’m pretty sure I’m free. What’s up?”

Lighter <3: “Can I come spend time with you?”

You thought for a moment. This was the third time this week he had asked to come to New Eridu. First it was wanting to rent a new movie from Random Play, then it was wanting to walk around around the river, and now it looks like he doesn’t even have an excuse. 

You: “Of course :)”

Shortly after sending the text, you fell back asleep, wanting to sleep until at least the sun came up. Your dream was disjointed and confusing, your body hot and uncomfortable when you woke up. You toss the blanket off of your shoulders clumsily, fist colliding with something. 

“Ow…” You suddenly jolt awake, looking over. “Lighter? Why…. How?”

“You didn’t answer the door. I thought I’d let myself in.” He rubs his nose where you had hit him. 

“The door was locked.” “I let myself in.”

“You don’t have a key.”

“I let myself in.”

“How?” You smile as you prop yourself up on your elbow, looking at the way he was laying on his back, an attempted respectful distance between you two. You broken the distance and reached out to touch his nose, making sure you didn’t actually do damage when you accidentally punched him.

Lighter melted under the touch, like a cat in the middle of a sunbeam. “I didn’t break anything, I promise.”

“Do I need to upgrade my locks?” You guide him to roll on his side so the bright light of the sun was behind him, highlighting his body in an almost angelic way. 

“Oh absolutely. Anyone with a cheap lockpick set can get in.” He drops his voice to a tone, not wanting to disturb the bubble of comfort around the two of you.

A comfortable moment of silence hangs in the air, Lighter looking at you with uncharacteristicly soft eyes, like you were the most precious thing he had. 

“When you asked to hang out, I didn’t know you meant as soon as I woke up. What are you running from, Lorenz?” You tease as you trace a finger down his jaw, feeling he had shaved his stubble off right before coming over. 

Lighter took your hand and kissed the pads of your fingers. “I’m not running from anything. I’m running towards you…”

He gives that genuine look, his guard almost entirely let down at this point. The words were borrowed, of course, probably from a book Ceaser was reading, but the fact he said it counted for a lot in your heart. 

“You’re hopeless.” You scoff and bring the blanket around the both of you, no longer caring how warm you felt.

“You like it.” Lighter immediately capitalizes on the closeness, holding you tightly against his chest, hiding his face in your hair. 

“I do… Quick little nap and then breakfast at the cafe?”

“Sounds perfect.”

**********

The ‘quick little nap’ turned into a several hour long nap, both of you feeling too safe and comfortable to even think about getting up. When you finally woke up for the last time, you were now on your back, Lighter’s head on your chest, the rest of his body draped over yours, arms tight around your stomach. You were trapped. 

“Lighter?” You nudge gently, trying to wake him up.

“No..” He squeezed tighter, hiding his face. “Please… let’s just stay like this… I need this… Need you…”

“Oh how could I ever say no to you?”

[covenha]

Synopsis: seonghwa harnesses the power of manifestation to get himself a girlfriend. Pairings: Simp!seonghwa x fem! reader Genre: crack, fluff, just seonghwa being a silly goofy guy Warnings: witchcraft technically? astrology is also mentioned WC: 1577 a/n: another self-indulgent fic is done! wrote this after i finished an exam so read at your own risk. i might right more bonus blurbs for this but who knows. this is a piece of fiction so it does not reflect who the characters are irl. please read the warnings carefully! and as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated 🫶

Simp!hwa had been content with silently pining over you. That is until one day he asked for a sign from the universe if he should confess. He was walking down the streets of his neighborhood while on his way to school with a little skip in his step, excited to see you. He was nearing Mrs. Nesbit’s house, an old lady with a splotchy memory but a kind heart. He stops to wave at her as she sways back and forth on the rocking chair on her porch. Then, as if she read his mind she goes, “Hurry up or you’ll miss it!”

Was this it? Was this the universe finally telling him to shoot his shot with you and confess his profound love for you? 

Well, the answer was no. Mrs. Nesbit was referring to the bus two blocks away ready to leave Seonghwa’s delusional ass behind. But it’s fine. He didn’t really care. All he really cared about was figuring out how to get you to fall in love with him so that you guys grow old together and live out your best lives with your two cats and moss ball babies. 

Now, Seonghwa knew that he had to approach this from a proactive standpoint. Sure, you and him have been friends since both of your awkward emo teen phases but he really wanted to cement in his chances with you. So he turned to the one place he knew he could get somewhat decent love advice from; Reddit. And with the wise words of Wefishyfishy98 he knew what he had to do. If he really wanted this he needed to use the power of manifestation. 

Simp!hwa wore your hair tie on his hand with pride. He read somewhere on twitter that girls liked to “mark their territory” with things like this and he grew weak at the knees thinking about you staking your claim on him. (Of course, in a completely normal and non-a/b/o kind of way.) I mean isn’t this such a boyfriend thing to do? He was clearly using the power of manifestation or whatever that fish guy said on Reddit. 

And this is why, when summer grew closer and the weather grew warmer, Seonghwa absolutely did not want to return it to you. 

“Hwa, C’mon it’s hot and I don’t want my hair sticking to my neck.” 

“Look, I can get you a new set of hair ties! Here, look at these cute ones I found on Etsy.” He tried to distract you with some cute kuromi hair ties he just found. Jongho is just silently observing the interaction between the both of you. 

You found it weird that he refused to give it to you even after you pestered him to but you decided to just give up and tough it out. And those ties on Etsy were kinda cute. 

“Fine. I guess the weather isn’t so bad today. What are you even doing on Etsy anyway?” you try to take a peak at whatever Seonghwa is looking up on his phone to which he quickly turns it off and puts it screen down on the table. 

“Nothing!” You seem a little taken aback by this. “Just… looking for plants for my… aquarium.”

“You mean your aquarium filled with moss balls… a plant. You want to get plants for your plants?” you blink at him. 

“Technically they’re algae.” Jongho butts in. 

“Right…. Well, at least you’re passionate about your moss balls?” you trail off. 

Seonghwa breathes a sigh of relief as Jongho nods on to you changing the topic to something about your mother’s extensive cacti collection. He opens up his phone again and clicks the order on his Etsy cart. 

“I hope this works.” He thinks to himself. 

That same night, Seonghwa started wracking his brain trying to think of something else that he could do that was “boyfriend coded”. And after much deliberation while staring at the ceiling, it finally hits him. She should be my lock screen! I mean nothing screams boyfriend like a cute candid picture as my lock screen. 

So, with this in mind, he scrounges through his gallery looking for a good photo of you to put as his lock screen. Then he spots the perfect candid of you in his living room sitting on the floor with lego pieces scattered all around the floor trying to assemble his lego death star with him. You aren’t looking at the camera, instead you look completely locked in on building the superweapon of the Empire with him. He stares at the image with a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. Without even realizing it he’s smiling like an idiot at his screen and he buries his head on his pillow and screams into it while kicking his feet on his mattress. 

That night he dreams of a distant future with you. One where he can call you his. Oh, and of course you can’t forget your two cats Lily and Bongo, and his ever growing collection of marimo balls.  

A week and a half later, he’s checking his phone every few minutes and then looking at the front door waiting to see if the delivery truck has arrived. Today was your birthday and the gift that he had bought you was running dangerously late. Which is why when he hears a truck nearing the property he all but zooms off the living room couch and to the front door. He accepts the package from the delivery man and quickly unboxes it. 

“It’s perfect.” he thought, smiling to himself as he delicately put it in a bag.

Later that day, as he walks you home just in time for you to have dinner with your family he surprises you with the gift. 

“Wha- Hwa? I thought we weren’t doing gifts this year?” you say as you accept the small paper bag from him. 

“Well, I saw this and I just couldn’t not get it for you.” he just smiles at you shyly as you look at him, surprised at the gesture. 

“Now, I have to get you a gift worth two birthdays next year.” you joke. 

“You’re the best gift life has to offer.” he thinks. But he shakes his head, a dumb smile on his face. “Open it.” he motions to the gift. 

You open and find a couple kuromi hair ties, just as promised. But also, a jewelry box with a bracelet inside. It had a dainty gold chain and a baby pink stone in the middle. 

“Hwa, I love it.” you smile at him. “It’s so pretty.” you inspect the bracelet. 

“Here, let me put it on you.” he gets the bracelet from the box and clamps it around your wrist. He smiles at the sight of you wearing the bracelet. 

He unfortunately had to leave because it was getting dark and he had to feed his cat at home. But, he swears he feels something in the air that night. 

“Please work.” He mumbles to himself. 

In hindsight, what Seonghwa felt that fateful night was probably just pollen, because the very next day Seonghwa finds Jongho coming down with a bad case of allergy sniffles. The cafeteria is filled with the sounds of chattering from hungry sleep-deprived college students and Jongho’s sneezes. 

“So, did you finally give her that rose quartz bracelet you bought from that Etsy witch?” Seonghwa’s cheeks burn at his words. 

“Yea. It was a good time too. Venus was in mercury gatorade or something.” he mumbles while picking at the skin on his thumb. 

“Ahem.” You startle both boys with your presence. You raise your eyebrows at both of them and decide to end their misery of staring at you with their mouths open in shock. “What’s this about an Etsy witch?” 

“I do not recall saying Etsy witch.” Jongho mumbles quickly then packs up his things, muttering some excuse about buying a gatorade from the vending machine. Seonghwa just sits there, mouth agape, trying to stutter out some excuse but nothing coherent falls from his mouth. 

“Hwa, you know you didn’t have to summon the forces of magic and astrology to make me fall in love with you right? I kinda already am.” You blush as you admit your feelings for your best friend. 

Simp!hwa’s brain malfunctions hearing this. Heart pounding, mind racing. Did she just... Did she just say that? She likes me? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like forever. What now?! I didn’t actually think I would get this far. Shit what happens next. Do I shake her hand? No, that would be weird. Just say something, Seonghwa! Say something!

“Will you be my manifested girlfriend?” he asks in a dazed voice. This makes you giggle before you shake your head then decide to kiss him on the nose. “It’s about time.” 

Seonghwa wastes no time in going in for a kiss. It felt like fireworks were going off in the background (it was just Jongho having a massive sneezing fit). The moment was perfect. It was magical. You guys stare into each other’s eyes and it felt like all was right with the world. As the both of you pull away from the kiss, Jongho sits down at the table with a purple gatorade. 

“You know it's actually mercury retrograde, right?” 

[floradelisstuff]

My Muffin then and now...

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

god DAMN are the squirrels aggressive

okay so when I moved in I had my dad do a quick mesh replacement on the screen window in the kitchen, so we can air out the area without every bug in the universe descending upon us, right?

well, throughout the spring summer and fall the squirrels have been tearing their way THROUGH that mesh to get to the fruit bowl we keep on the table next to that window. We now have to all remember to keep that inner window closed if we aren't in the kitchen

earlier today i heard a thump, and, of course thinking it was the household cat knocking something over, got up to go check it out

and i find

this CHONKER of a black squirrel sitting hunkered over the kitchen table trying to horf down as much of an apple bigger than his skull as possible. it'd scrimbled around a bit to start off and knocked over a trash bin, which is what summoned me in the first place

upon seeing me, he scrimbles the fuck back through the mesh hole

...

that apple has been forfeited to the backyard beasts

I have informed my father that we need something way the fuck stronger for that window

[celaenaeiln]

JL: Nightwing! It’s a delight to see you! You should come by more often.

Nightwing: Thank you! I’m so sorry, work has been piling up on me but I’ll try to drop by the office party this Sunday.

JL: Ofcourse! Looking forward to seeing you there. By the way, is Batman coming late?

Nightwing: No, I’ll be filling in for him today.

JL: Did something happen?

Nightwing: Nothing much, he’s just grounded.

JL: ???

48 hours earlier

Dick: Bruce, I’m telling you now and we’ve had this conversation before but you need to build a better rapport with your children. They look up to you as a father figure and your actions influence their behavior.

Bruce: …hmrgh

Dick: And you might not be aware but you unconconscious behavior is damaging. Tim has picked up your terrible habit of constantly working in front of a screen-it’s going to strain his eyes. He’s always inside too, so you need to make him go outside more. I’m not always here, I have an entire city to run, the titans need me, I'm mentoring hundreds of heroes, the Justice League calls on me to help them, and I need to keep up with my social life. The people in Bludhaven where I teach and work also call me if I’m gone for a day-the point is-I can’t always be playing second parent here in Gotham.

Bruce: ……hmrgh

Dick: Damian always looks up to you

Bruce: *side eyes*

Dick: He does! See you don’t even realize it! He wants to make you proud and Jason gets mad when you don’t make time for him because he cares too. Stephanie doesn’t have a dad she can turn to and it would mean the world to her if you took her out to an amusement park or something. When was the last time you spent time with her.

Bruce: ….hmrgh

Dick: And-

1 hour later

Dick: -that’s why you need to stop working, go to them right now, and bond with them.

Bruce:

Dick:

Bruce: ……...hmrgh

Dick: I’m waiting.

Bruce: *dragging himself off the batcave chair and begrudgingly trudging upstairs under Dick’s watchful eye*

Bruce: *listening to the sounds of his kids in the living room and pumping himself up* Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. And Dick. Do it for him.

Bruce: *entering* *clearing his throat* Children. We will be going-

*The living room is in utter chaos. The cushions are strewn and ripped with stuffing coating the couches and floor which for some reason is stained yellow, the flower vase is shattered and so is the table it was sitting on, there’s string confetti on the chandelier, there’s spray paint and neon goo across the walls and in Tim’s hair, Jason has deep claw marks down his face as he wrestles with Damian who’s sporting massive bruise on his cheek and trying his hardest to bite him, Stephanie is dunking Tim’s face in a tub of soda which splashed everywhere while he’s ripping out Jason’s hair and also trying to kick Damian with his foot, the tv has massive spiderwebs and looping on tellatubies like a broken record machine, Titus is spitting out a feather while a random goose runs around honking while Alfred the cat chases after it at full speed, knocking down decades old paintings.*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: *rolling up his sleeves and stomping forward to join the fight* HMRGH.

[randomxreaders]

‘Paige Bueckers wsp w you?’ Pt.2

Warnings-

Mentions of alcohol, swearing, reader being called girl, mama and, she/her pronouns, not proofread :/

1.4k work count

—————————————————————————

She did not. You were used to people sliding in your dms at this point but not your crush shooting her shot. You sit there and stare at the message trying to process that this is real and not a dream when you see bubbles popping up….she’s typing and then nothing. Shit. You quickly shoot her back a reply “Wouldn’t you like to know;)” You sit there waiting for a reply after being left on delivered for two minutes you put the phone down sighing as your cat jumps up onto your lap. “Junebug what did I get myself into” you say as the little cat rolls up into a fluffy ball on your lap. Right as she settles you hear the phone ringing, its Terry calling back, “Ok Y/n the team and I think that moving forward the best move is to let things run its course on its own. Deleting the video will just make it bigger as of now and moving forward if asked about it in interviews we just want to you acknowledge maybe give a compliment and move on.” Terry advises you. “Okay I can do that thank you so much Terry I’m sorry for the stress I’ve caused today” Y/n says full on sincerity. “It’s all good Y/n/n you’re still my favorite client, talk to you tomorrow” “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone and start to get ready for bed.

Paige’s POV

After a long practice all I needed was to relax especially before the rest I’ve the team came over for our Fortnite marathon.

Paige throws down her basketball bag and gets into the shower washing off her stress from practice. As she gets out and changes into some sweats and a tank top she sees she got a text:

lil rah

“P have you seen this?”

She clicks the link and sees a TikTok. She sees the text pop up on the screen “Paige Bueckers wsp w you?” Paige was very familiar with the girl in the video, Y/n Y/l/n the two time Grammy winner and beautiful musician.

Paige texts Sarah back

Paige

“Is this real? Lmao”

Sarah

“Seems pretty real to me”

“you needa text her Ik you have a lil crush on her”

“Shoot your shot Paige buckets”

Paige lets out a chuckle and opens instagram tapping on your account in her search. “Hey Y/n wassup with you.” After seeing you texted her back she decided to let you sweat a lil and clean up some before the rest of the team came over before opening the message.

Paige leans up against her counter deciding it’s been long enough and opens your message. “Wouldn’t you like to know;)” She smirks at the message and sends back “Well i kinda need to know if your free before I try to ask you out”

Y/n POV

Shut the hell up. Ask me out? This can’t be real life right now. You blink a few times staring at the message and the another one pops up “Call me?” With her number sent next. WHAT. You the number and press call a little too fast and hear the phone ring-ring- “So are you free?” You hear her voice through the phone. She sounds as smooth as a whiskey. You take a deep breath “for you?….always.”

The back and forth with Paige came almost too naturally. The way you guys bounced jokes back and forth, but all good things must come to an end. You hear the knock over the phone “aw shit I’m sorry ma I forgot the team was coming over” she said sighing. “Aw it’s okay Paige have fun with your team you guys deserve it, we’ll talk later”

“We definitely will, make sure you save my number”

“I will, bye Paige”

“Bye Y/n”

After hanging up the phone you do a lap around the room “OH MY GODDDDD” you run in and jump onto your bed. Minutes later you hear a knock at your door. You walk out of your bedroom, through your living room to the front door. “Y/n I know your home I have your location” You knew the all too familiar voice instantly, it was your best friend Amari. You open the door and see her in a cute black dress that looked like one you’d been looking for last weekend. “Is that my dress?” “Okay hi to you too Ms.Bueckers” “STOP. You saw it?”

“Girl who hasn’t seen it and I already knew about your little crush anyways”

“I have to tell you something”

“Okayyy you can tell me while we get you dressed we’re going out.”

Amari lays out an outfit for you while you tell her all about you and Paige texting and then about your phone call.

“Sooo you guys are definitely gonna get together now right” Amari says laying out the last of your outfit on the bed.

“No we just talked about you know my music and her basketball, then just random stuff then she had to go, nothing crazy okay”

“Whatever you say Y/n now get dressed.”

You look at the outfit that Amari laid out for you a black lace body suit with low rise baggy jeans and black heels. After getting dressed you and Amari take a few pictures in the mirror before leaving and getting in the car.

You drive the both of you to your favorite hole in wall bar ‘The Silver Stir.’ You find yourselves sitting at the bar when you see that Amari tagged you in her instagram story of both of you posed in the mirror, you repost it then slip your phone into your pocket as Amari drags you to the dance floor. A few hours later you find yourself sitting back at the bar watching Amari dancing with a guy she found. You’d it at the bar scrolling through your phone when you see that Paige had texted you.

Paige

“You look good tonight”

You smile sending back

“I look better in person”

You look up seeing Amari stumbling towards you and you know it’s time to take her home. You walk her out to the car and buckle her into the seat. Once you make it back to your apartment you tuck her into the guest bedroom that may as well be hers and leave her some ibuprofen and a glass of water for when she wakes up.

Now that you weren’t the DD anymore you decided to make a drink after your very long day. After digging through the fridge and cabinet you decide to make a lychee martini. You prop up your phone deciding to go live on your finsta which has a significantly lower following than your main account. You apologize to Terry in your mind in advance. You pull the ingredients out and place them on the counter. As people start joining the live you start explaining the drink you’re going to make. Doing lives and trying to connect with your audience is and will continue to be important to you no matter how many times you embarrass yourself. “Hi y’all! I’m back for another live and we’re gonna make a lychee martini before bedtime.” You skim some of the comments as they start coming through, about half of them are about Paige and the other half are about your album. “The album is in progress guys I’m we’re still working on some features I hope you guys like it when it comes out.”

‘we saw that TikTok mama’

‘did we find out wsp w Paige orr?’

‘okkkkk fitted up frr’

‘need your makeup routine rnnn’

*KK Arnold request to join your live*

The last pop up definitely peaked your interest, you think a few seconds before hitting accept. The screen glitches for a second then you see KK standing in what looks to be a dorm type room “HEY GIRL POPS” KK yells, you let out a laugh “Hi KK what’s up” While you had never actually met KK you obviously knew of her and had been mutuals on instagram for about a year now. “Nothing right now girl we’re waiting on our Crumbl cookie we ordered”

“I thought yall were playing Fortnite”

“And what little birdie told you that Y/n”

You both let out laughs and send each other knowing looks.

“KK who are you talking to” you hear in the background. You knew that voice. “P! Did you get the Crumbl cookies” “Yes yes” she says walking into the room, Ice and Sarah following close behind. You step out of frame and grab a chilled glass for your martini and hear Paige ask KK who she’s on live with. “Just our girl Y/n, you know.” You step into the camera and wave “hi guyss.”

[izzih22]

Azzi seeing Paige at the press conference today and gets all hot and bothered seeing P look so good in the hat and uniform. that she mayyyyy ask her to do a certain something tonight in that hat and uniform…not asking for smut but lots of teasing and tension ;)

Leave the Hat On

Note: this is kinda shit I’m sorry 😂

Azzi had seen the outfit.

Her phone blew up the second Paige stepped out in front of the cameras — texts from teammates, friends, even her mom, all saying the same thing:

“Have you SEEN Paige?”

“Your girl’s a problem today.”

“The hat? The FIT???”

So when Azzi finally pulled up the stream on her laptop in her hotel room, she wasn’t exactly unprepared. Paige was in her new WNBA jersey — crisp, fitted, with BUECKERS stamped across the back. And then, as if that weren’t enough, someone handed her a cowboy hat.

And Paige — smirking, cocky as hell — actually put it on.

Azzi sat straight up. Blinked. Replayed the moment.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Because it wasn’t just the outfit. It was the way Paige wore it. Casual. Confident. That barely-there smile tugging at her mouth like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Azzi didn’t hear a single word of the press conference. Her mind was otherwise occupied.

⸻

That night, Paige FaceTimed her from her new apartment. No furniture, boxes still stacked, but she looked relaxed — hoodie now, hair up, legs crossed on the floor.

“Hey,” Paige smiled. “Did you see the presser?”

Azzi stared at her through the screen for a second too long. Then said, very calmly, “Where’s the hat.”

Paige blinked. “What?”

“The hat, Paige.”

Paige narrowed her eyes, catching the tone. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m hot.”

“You’re bothered.”

Azzi let out a slow breath, dragging her fingers through her curls. “I need you to do something for me.”

Paige leaned in, like she already knew. “Yeah?”

“Next time I see you… wear the jersey again.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You want me to wear my own jersey?”

Azzi tilted her head, smile slow and deliberate. “And the hat.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head. “You’re unreal.”

Azzi bit her lip, eyes darkening a shade. “I mean it.”

“Are you—” Paige’s voice dropped. “Is this, like… a request request?”

Azzi just smiled wider. “Consider it a… favor.”

Paige stared at her for a second, caught between amused and wildly intrigued. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.”

There was a pause. A beat of silence thick enough to crack open.

Then Paige smirked, that same lazy confidence from earlier sliding back into place. “So I wear the jersey. The hat. And then what?”

Azzi’s eyes flicked down, then back up slowly. “You’ll find out.”

Paige sat back, grinning like the cat that caught the damn sun. “I’m never throwing that hat away.”

“You better not,” Azzi muttered.

“Do I get anything in return?” Paige teased, voice low.

Azzi’s smile was dangerously sweet. “Yeah. You get me trying real hard not to rip that jersey off in under thirty seconds.”

Paige blinked.

“See you soon, cowgirl,” Azzi added.

Paige didn’t recover for a full minute.