#even though this ones not his kid for once

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

[aemvnd]

𝓇.cameron. ┆ 4:24pm.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ finally introducing to y'all shy, bambi!reader (she's so me!) i hope y'all love her as much as i do. !!! 🧸♡ྀི

bambi!reader is a shy, precious, skittish little thing, with you always burying your nose in some romance novel, loves going antique shopping, obsessed with gold and pearl jewelry, loves the color pastel pink (like most of your outfits), besides the occasional virginal white that your now boyfriend, rafe cameron, likes to see you wear for him, always all dolled up and so, so fucking pretty, rafe thought that first night of meeting you.

you're a painfully shy girl, which rafe finds charming, cute, and addicting like sugary sweetness, making rafe absolutely hooked and possessed, especially when he first introduced himself to you, all charming, confident, and with that typical, rafe cameron smirk.

strangely, even though rafe was a little tipsy, barely even drunk, he couldn't help but walk up to you that night at the party he was hosting, never quite seeing you around before, and try to start up a conversation with you, needing to be close to you—it was like an instant pull towards you, like he needed to be close to you.

it almost felt like his heartstrings were aching, tugging him towards you, like you hypnotized him from across his large balcony at tannyhill—you stood alone, taking tiny sips of the fruity, alcoholic seltzer you've been drinking since you arrived barely an hour ago.

once rafe got you talking, all sweet and shy, and yes, it took some time, your answers were slightly short, timid and nervous, like you were scared of embarrassing yourself in front of him, which rafe thought was incredibly adorable, his obsession with you only growing more and more.

rafe continued making light conversation with you throughout the evening, with you giving him pretty, little demure smiles, and all rafe could think about was fucking you in the most nasty, downright animalistic of ways—however, he knew he would have to have patience, to be gentle, not wanting to frighten you in any way, shape, or form, but maybe you'll let him taste your sweet, little virginal pussy.

you'd make the most perfect little housewife, he was certain of it. rafe already knew you would be his—his dream girl, the girl that he would someday put a giant, sparkling diamond ring on your pretty, dainty little ring finger, seemingly always freshly manicured with french tips, he'd noticed.

rafe couldn't help but also begin to imagine you all full and plump with a kid of his inside of your womb, plenty of little cameron babies to come, he knows it, deep in his bones, that you're the girl for him.

meanwhile, as the conversation between you both continued, with rafe mostly doing most of the talking, he would start asking more personal questions, perhaps too personal, but rafe wasn't ever one to give a fuck—except now, but even still, he had this need to know every little thing about your sweet, beautiful self.

"soo..." rafe chuckled lightly, a lazy smirk on his lips, taking small sips of his beer occasionally, while cocking his head slightly to catch your pretty, doe-like eyes, decorated with long, fluffy mink lashes—so damn pretty, rafe thought to himself in that moment, and every single moment after that while spending time in your company.

"do you, uh... h-have a boyfriend?" he questioned casually, though he could already feel his blood boiling at the mere thought of some other man's hands on you, watching as you immediately became shy and bashful, and it made the oldest cameron sibling want to kiss you, to claim you, to mark you as his and his forever—luckily, he was able to refrain himself and control his temper, and his desire for you, surprisingly.

and then, once you shyly shook your head no, all pretty and doll-like and submissive, rafe was already thinking of multiple ways about making you his, his, his—permanently.

#⠀࣪⠀ׅ ♡ ⠀࣪𓂃 #‧ ₊˚ bambi's works 𓂃ෆ #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey prompt #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fluff #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n

[erwinsvow]

introducing... bitchy reader!

rafe never pays attention to sarah’s friends. new yet similar faces seem to make the rounds through tannyhill every week; the place was a revolving door. the occasional familiar girl would say hi to him, which would of course be ignored since he doesn’t care enough to say hi back.

so naturally, you become the exception to his little rule.

you and sarah are on opposite sides of the counter, flicking through magazines and taking sips from overpriced iced coffees, when he overhears a conversation that makes him stop and listen.

“-and he’s not like topper, like, at all. he’s really nice and actually talks to me instead of at me-”

“wow,” he hears you say, dragging out the syllables and sarcasm dripping from your voice. “such standards you have. no, really.”

“shut up. he’s totally sweet-” sarah says, but you interrupt her.

“he’s, like, totally a dirty pogue.” that catches his attention—not just the fact that there’s something going on between his sister and some pogue, but the way you say the sentence, how the words sound coming from your mouth. 

you nearly sound like rafe.

“that is so rude-”

“what? i’m just being honest. i’d be a bad friend if i didn’t tell you the truth.”

“what truth?” his sister questions.

“that you’re settling for some pogue boy because you’re bored of top. i get it. if i was dating him i’d be bored enough to fuck a pogue too.”

rafe cringes at the topic even though your word choice makes him laugh—topper is boring, though he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone else bring it up until now. he steps back into the doorway, watching the two of you. the crass words are coming from you, dressed in a sunny yellow dress and tapping pretty pink nails against the counter. 

“hey! i’m not bored-”

“you mean, you like hearing about his boat and golf every single day?”

“he has other hobbies! like-”

“like what?” you pause, watching sarah’s expression before giving her a pointed look—a look that says told you so. “who are you really trying to convince right now?” you flip through another magazine, finding something that must have caught your eye. you lift it to show sarah—some pinked striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers on the pages. “don’t i totally need this?”

“shut up.”

“that’s what someone says when they know the other person’s right,” you say with a mocking smile, setting down the magazine. he’s watching the whole thing—you’re funnier than he would have thought. “and if you change your mind just go to country club. top’s dime a dozen there.” the two of you start laughing. 

“i’m not gonna change my mind-”

“that’s what you said when you started dating topper,” you say it deadpan, and rafe holds back a laugh.

“-because he’s really nice. he’s a good guy.”

“ugh, sarah. making out with a dirty pogue at a bonfire is one thing. you’re talking like you’re in love. get a grip.”

“what? what’s so wrong with that?” sarah asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“because you can’t be in love with someone you have to hide your valuables around.” that’s when he decides to walk in—sarah sputtering on her drink while you roll your eyes.

“and what’re you girls talkin’ about?” rafe asks, and two sets of eyes turn to look at him. you look at him a little confused—in all the years you’ve known sarah and times you’ve been at tannyhill, rafe’s never once spoken to you.

“i don’t think it’s any of your business-” his sister says, and then he rolls his eyes. you interrupt right away.

“sarah, it’s okay.” you turn to rafe, looking right at him and leaning in a little like you’re gonna tell in something. “it’s really not any of your business.”

blank face, trying to be annoyed but not actually feeling annoyed, he stares back at you. his sister laughs stupidly, heading into the living room. she leaves you alone with rafe in the kitchen, but as you grab your drink and try to follow sarah, rafe says something.

“y’know i heard that shit you were sayin’. you’re funny, kid.” you turn back to look at rafe.

“thanks. i wasn’t joking.”

“yeah. good. at least one of my sister’s friends has ‘er head screwed straight.” you laugh, but the look on your face says you didn’t think it was funny.

“are you trying to compliment me? by insulting all my other friends?” he wasn’t expected that retort.

“no. no, i-”

“maybe if your friend wasn’t such a shit boyfriend, sarah wouldn’t be talking to some pogue. but hey, what do i know?”

“hey, kid, i-”

“don’t call me that.” you roll your eyes, walking to the living room without even glancing back at rafe. he calls out after you again.

“so have you?” you pause, turning again.

“have i what?” “made out with some pogue at the bonfire.” he shrugs. “that’s what you said to sarah, isn’t it?”

“again, how is that any of your business?” you ask, cocking your head at him.

“that’s not an answer.”

“i don’t owe you an answer. but for the record, no, i haven’t. i actually have standards.” he doesn’t miss the remark and what it says about his sister.

“good,” rafe says, looking at you. his eyes rake over your body before he can stop it—your short hem, the jewelry dangling on your wrists and neck, the heels even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.

“shut up. weirdo.” you walk to the living room where sarah’s waiting for you.

rafe’s gonna have a hard time staying away from you.

#this was so much better in my head but oh well #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #bitchy reader

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you ever plan on continuing the Adoptive Son Au?

This wasn't just a mission anymore.

Dick lays perfectly still, staring up at Crowne's bedroom ceiling. Besides him, Crowne is found asleep, and his soft puffs of breath are the only sound to be heard in the room. As always, the other man is curled up facing the wall, one fist under his cheek and the other clutched to the warm set of blankets.

It's something Dick noticed the first night he slept over.

Awake Crowene took up so much space with his commanding aura, steadily leading his team into the future like a king upon a throne—as if he were larger than life.

Asleep, Crowne seemed to grow smaller, a shocking reminder that for all he's accomplished, he too was only eighteen like Dick.

His face softened, and the invisible weight that seemed to be resting on Crowne's shoulders vanished once he slumbered. It surprised Dick, the first time he watched him sleep, to see how gentle the man could be. How innocent he appeared.

It was a reminder of how inexperienced Crowne was regarding relationships.

The mission had gone on longer than he'd ever planned it to. Dick was worried about how far he was going to go with the honey pot aspect, even with his suggestive comments and more daring flirtations. None of his other missions have gotten so far, always stopping at a few cuddles and kisses.

Thankfully, Crowne hesitated to go further. He had agreed to the hotel room, leaving Drake with Nancy for the night, and as Dick was desperately trying to think of an escape as they climbed up to the room, Crowne had grown more and more angsty.

They had kissed against the door and stumbled their way to the bed with heated breaths and whispered moans, but when they actually landed on the hotel bed, Crowne had sprung away. He had burst into tears, shamefully admitting he wasn't ready.

Dick had been so grateful for the out as he gathered Crowne into his arms and promised to wait till the time was right. He would wait until the CEO was ready, wiping away tears and kissing his cheeks dry.

He gave himself more time by admitting he also didn't feel comfortable moving forward yet, and Crowne looked at him with such tenderness Dick forgot about the mission for only a minute.

Instead, the two somehow ended up chatting the night away, lying side by side, whispering to each other against the pillows. None of what they spoke about was useful for the mission, and yet he found himself holding the little facts about Crowne close to his heart anyway.

He learned about Crowne's insecurities, some of the bullying he endured as a kid, the loving parents he missed, and the sister he lost. He even spoke about his fear of failing Drake or the rest of the people at his company who depended on him, how sometimes that fear of failure would creep in and freeze him in place.

In turn, Dick found himself talking of the circus, whispering what he missed and what life was like before his parent's death.

He shared his role as team leader—though not what the team was—and how sometimes he felt like he was still attempting to find his place in everyone's lives. Shockingly, he even admitted that he feared Bruce would never see him as soon, hiding his tears in Crowne's neck as he pushed out the words.

He never opened up to anyone like that, which terrified him of how far he may have lost himself within the lie.

They fell asleep together that night, curling around each other fully clothed, and it was far more intimate than anything he had ever done with anyone else.

The following day Dick had been able to spot love in Crowne's eyes whenever he looked at him. It made him sick. He tried to not make too much eye contact following this, for they had yet to find the missing children, and he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the devotion of a man he was playing for information.

Now, four months after they agreed to go slow, he slept on the right side of Crowne's bed, which had become his side, watching the snow gently fall outside the window of the new house Crowne had purchased. The mission had far surpassed the expected wait time, as Christmas was quickly approaching, and Crowne had made comments of spending it at Wayne mannor.

He had seen a shopping list with Bruce, Jason, Damian, and even Alfred's names on Crowne's desk, and a couple of gift ideas were written next to them. Because he knew that to Dick, they were his family, and he wanted to make a good impression on them.

The mission had begun in spring, but Dick couldn't find a way to untangle himself from Crowne. He had been heavily involved in the gym Crowne was setting up with Drake, seeing that he adored possibly being a gymnastics teacher more than he ever planned.

Bruce occasionally commented that he shouldn't let himself be swept away by the lie.

He knew the truth.

This domestic bliss he was spending with Crowne was an illusion. It was bound to burst the day they found what they were looking for, but by the gods, Dick honestly thought they were wrong.

They had to be.

Crowne's mysterious rise to power, extortionary science, brilliant business mind, and unexplained funds all pointed to darker, evil intentions.

But Danny? The man's eyes soften by children's laughter. He made silly puns when he wanted to cheer up Dick. He curled around Dick, holding him through nightmares and never asking what they were about.

Danny stepped up for Tim Drake and gave him a home when all signs clearly pointed to the Drakes neglecting their son. Danny was the one who anonymously paid off medical debt, asking nothing in return, not even acknowledgment. Danny was the one who could name all the stars in the sky, yet looked sad when staring upwards.

Danny was the one Dick was in love with, but Danny was also Crowne, and the Bats were gunning to lock him up for the rest of his life.

It tore him to pieces, but Dick pushed himself out of the warm bed. He patted his way to the boxes that still needed to be unpacked. He was the one to convince Danny to buy a house outside the city, knowing the man wouldn't bother to pack appropriately.

This meant he would likely carelessly throw evidence into random boxes—the evidence he needed to finally put him away.

He looked over his shoulder to ensure the other was still sleeping before going through the items. He went through the first five without finding anything, angry at himself for feeling relief until he came across the last box.

Inside were notebooks.

Some date back to the first year Danny was adopted by the Crownes. There were systematic experiments and notes on the portal making, but the worst of all were the files.

Files of the street kids he had moved. With each page turned, Dick found profiles of the kids, where they were found, what they were going through, how they were taken, and where they were placed. There were even several phone numbers of social workers who helped him move the kids about.

A leger of the trafficking ring. All were written in Danny's handwriting. It was a lie, Dick knew, but it was still devastating to realize how evil the darkness within Crowne indeed was.

The very last thing in the box was an engraved ring with Richard Grason on the inside, sitting inside an elegant ring box.

Dick felt sick as he reached up to his earpiece pressing it three times. Bruce picked up with a soft greeting that quickly turned to worry when Dicked choked out through his tears.

"We got him."

#dcxdpdabbles #the adoptive son #Part 5 #Angst #Dick and Danny were falling in love #They spent almost a full year togther #Danny wasn't going to propose until a year latter but he saw Dick as his forever #Now the Bats got what they wanted

[clockwayswrites]

Not 'Not So Imaginary' getting a sequel fic(let) for @deadonmayn week...

Have a little start, even though I've been trying not to share my domayn week work, because dramatic theater kid Jason is dramatic.

-

“I never thought I’d see you again!” Jason lamented, dramatically, as he flung himself at Danny.

Danny caught Jason dutifully, having expected such dramatics (though they had to be braced a little by Diana not to fall over from Jason’s exuberance). Hiding a smile against Jason’s hair, they patted Jason lightly on the back. “There there.”

“Don’t there there me!” Jason said and pulled back enough for Danny to get the full force of his pout. Danny was very sure that Jason thought that since even Bruce mostly folded to that pout, Danny had no chance, but Danny had been living with Diana and her pout was truly lethal. Still, Jason continued valiantly with his rant. “It’s been over three weeks! Do you know how long three weeks is! That’s twenty-one days! It’s been twenty-three, that is so long—”

Jason’s words cut off with a muffled little ‘murf’ as Danny leaned in and pressed their lips together. It was still just as effective as it had been twenty-three days ago as it stunned Jason long enough for Danny to flip the cover of their SGD up so that they could use it. While Danny spoke much more these days than before, it was still a challenge to find the right words at the right time. Their device was easier and they clung to it gratefully.

“We talked everyday,” Danny said. The mechanical voice had been tweaked some over the last few weeks to something Danny was happier with. They didn’t think it was too different, but it gave Jason almost as much pause as the kiss had.

“What?” Jason shook his head, dark curls flying. “No we didn’t, we texted every day, that’s not the same!”

Danny glanced down at their SGD and back up again with a pointedly brow raised.

“I’m not being abelist! That’s still us talking! I mean texting isn’t us talking in person, I mean— stop making me feel like a bad host. Alfie, tell Danny I’m not a bad host!”

“Well, Master Jason, you have left our guests standing on the porch for several minutes now,” the balding, mustachioed man standing primly in the doorway said.

Danny guessed he had to be ‘Alfie’.

Jason threw his head back with a dramatic ‘ugh’ stomped inside, and then held the door open with a little bow. “Madam Diana. Ma— Mis— What’s the proper title for a they, Alfred?”

Alfred blinked, once. “I suppose that depends on your friends preference. Would you prefer Master, Miss, or Mx?”

Danny’s nose scrunched up as they thought.

#dp x dc #dead on main #not so imaginary

[ysrjune]

omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.

(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈

Into You ✦

Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.

You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.

So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.

When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.

“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?

Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.

It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”

And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.

Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.

The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.

Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.

You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.

What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.

She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.

At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.

You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.

He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.

You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.

Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.

“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.

You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.

“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?

“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?

“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.

But you'll keep in touch.. right?

—

You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?

He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.

You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.

Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.

He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.

—

He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.

Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.

You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.

Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.

“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.

Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?

After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.

You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.

By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.

You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.

Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.

Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.

Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.

You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.

“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.

“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”

“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.

“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.

No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”

“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.

“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.

—

He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.

It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”

—

errrm part 2 when 🤔

tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #life as a house #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe smut #i love sam monroe #sam monroe fanfiction #hayden christensen fanfic #hayden christensen star wars #anakin skywalker smut #rots anakin #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker

[bigification]

Step Daddy

"You really need to get over your stepdad man." My friend tells me, concerned.

"Look, I'll try this one last thing and if it doesn't work then I'll give it up." I respond. "Did you bring the sunglasses?"

"Yes, but just remember he's like 25 years older than you. He's probably not going to be into you, even after this." He says as he hands me a pair of old pilot shades.

I told him I could let it go, but I can't. I'm just putting all my eggs into this basket, the sunglasses. Apparently they're supposed to transform someone who wears them mentally and physically to match my type. He already is my type, but I guess I wouldn't mind him bulking up a bit and growing some hair. It would be sexy if he got more charming, but he's already charming as it is. I guess there's only one way to find out.

I wait on the living room couch watching tv. He always gets home from work at the same time, so I know he'll be here any minute. I sit and stare at my reflection in the glasses. Am I really ready to change this man's life so drastically. My friend said no one else would take notice of the change, so it'll be like nothing happened. As I'm thinking over it, I hear the roar of his engine from the driveway. I try to calm down, but I can feel my body vibrate from the nerves. The door flies open.

"Hey buddy, hows it goin?" He asks me with his hot southern accent.

"Not bad. By the way, I found these sunglasses lying around, and assumed they were yours." I try to play it cool as I lie to his face.

"Oh, thanks. But these aren't mine." He responds.

"Well you might as well keep em, they don't fit me anyway." I try to convince him to take them without seeming too pushy.

"Well alright, thanks kid." He swipes the glasses and throws them on.

That was easier than I thought. As soon as he put them on, he stopped moving. His jaw slacked as if there was not a thought running through his mind. It started slow, his button up started to look a little bit tighter. His once flat chest started to push against his shirt and the shape of a belly started to show. Then it started to speed up. His chest started to pulse, growing in size with each one. They grew until the button on his collar popped off, then another button popped, then another and another. His juicy pecs flopped down after being released from his shirt. His stomach was next. His midsection widened and his stomach grew into a respectable beer belly, straining against his shirt. It wasn't long before more buttons began to pop, until his shirt was completely open. His arms also looked like they doubled in size, filling out his sleeves with thick muscles.

Next his legs start to look like they're gonna burst out of his dress pants. I can hear the rips ripple through his pants as his thighs grow inside of them. His ass fills out all the space in his pants and proceeds to rip open his fly and snap his belt in half. I can tell his underwear is barely staying in one piece as a large bulge formed in between his legs.

Finally his face begins to change. His once skinny face fills out with fat, giving him a rounder look. I can see that hair is falling out of his hat until he is left completely bald under there. Though in return his clean shaven face grows a bushy beard. But the hair doesn't stop there. It continues down his chest and to his belly, and presumably the rest of his body. He finally regains control of his body. He sighs as he stretched out his arms and cracks his knuckles before looking right at me.

"Come here, son." He says in a deep buttery voice.

A shock travels through my spine as I think he might know what I've done to him.

"What'd I say boy!" He raises his voice.

I jump a bit before I walk closer to him. I realize how imposing he is up close. He must have gotten taller because he seems well over six feet tall now, and at least 250 pounds.

"Daddy had a stressful day, why don't you help him release some tension." He says as he pushes me to my knees.

I blush, this is everything I wanted from this, it just happened so much faster than I thought.

"Don't be shy, boy. This will be our little secret." He says as he pulls his underwear down.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #reality change #muscle tf #male transformation

[emphistic]

Hiii I wanted to say I love yours works and was wondering how sukuna would react to yuuji wanting us to be his valentines 💓💓💓

Yuuji knows what chocolates you do and do not like. . . Actually, he didn’t. Sukuna did, however. And — being the awesomest brother he was — told Yuuji, albeit not for free. The boy had to earn it (Sukuna’s words) by mopping the floors of the apartment. Why did Sukuna choose such an odd way of payment? Who knows. And then, of course, Sukuna had to accompany Yuuji to the store in order to purchase said chocolates.

Yuuji isn’t sure what flowers you do and do not like. But he didn’t care; he thought all flowers were beautiful no matter what color, shape, size, and that each flower was pretty and unique in its own way. That’s what he repeated to himself in his head as he picked flowers straight from the dirt in the gardens outside your apartment complex.

Yuuji sees you wear some colors more than others. So he assumes you like those best. That’s what he thinks to himself as he colors in a card for you using those exact colors with his crayons. And though they weren’t a carbon copy — since he was working with very limited resources — his brain didn’t notice. And neither did you, when you received the card.

Yuuji loves you, a lot. He loves you a lot. Yuuji loved how caring you were when he got a boo-boo. Yuuji loved how good your cooking tasted compared to everyone else's. Yuuji loved how you would sing him to sleep — he, like his brother, thought your voice was amazingly lovely. Yuuji loved how funny you were, the jokes you would tell to cheer him up, and they worked. They always worked. Yuuji loved how soft your hands were when brushing through his unruly pink locks, much like his brother. Yuuji loved how you showered him with your undivided attention.

Yuuji was a smart kid . . . sometimes. He saw the way his brother changed when you started coming over to the apartment more and more often. Even when he was very little, he noticed. He noticed that after you permanently moved into the apartment, Sukuna was softer towards him. Sukuna smiled more. Sukuna laughed more. Sukuna loved more.

And so, Yuuji loved you a lot. Because, most importantly, he loved how you changed Sukuna — for the better.

Unfortunately, and like most kids, one thing he didn’t love was . . . school.

School, a center for learning to some and a prison to most. But if he didn’t go to school, how would he learn what Valentine’s Day was? How would he know that Valentine’s Day was a holiday to celebrate love, friendship, and admiration, for those you call special? He wouldn’t. Yeah, in a nutshell, long story short, however you want to call it, Yuuji wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know what Valentine’s Day was. But, without you, he wouldn’t even know what love was — save for his brother, [occasionally], of course.

And what did Sukuna do? — Since he loved Yuuji so much? He fixed the little kiddo a tie and suit, of course! Yuuji looked utterly dashing wearing Sukuna’s suit; the pants were dragging a bazillion feet behind the boy and the tie was completely off-centered. (Were you expecting a suit tailored and sized for a little boy? LOL.) Maybe Sukuna did that on purpose. Maybe not. Sukuna did happen to snap a picture, though. Oh, he was so going to use this as blackmail once Yuuji grew older.

Yuuji thought he had finally obtained the confidence and big muscles of a man when he grew the courage to sit you down on the couch so he could “talk” to you. But as soon as he saw you looking attentively at him with the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen in his whole four years on this planet, he nearly experienced heart palpitations right then and there.

Coming to the rescue, Sukuna came over and patted his younger brother on the back. Nodding at him in reassurance.

You had to admit, Yuuji looked absolutely adorable whilst he stuttered over big, complicated words not fit for a mere child, but when he finally got it, he shoved the chocolates, flowers, and card into your hands.

“And—and, I wan’ to ask you to be my va . . . wen . . . tine. . . Vawentine!” It took him a few tries to remember the “correct” pronunciation and to sound out the word syllable by syllable, but what mattered most was that he got it — in the end.

Yuuji raised his arms into the air, for some odd reason, like a person cheering or celebrating. Speaking of which — in this case, he would be celebrating his finally having gotten the hang of saying the word ‘valentine’. But he just looked so precious that you couldn’t even find the heart to tease him about it. Not even a little bit.

And if you were paying a little more attention to your surroundings, you would see that Sukuna was in the corner of the room, slowly and silently moving his lips as in a way to help Yuuji sound out the tough word.

“Thank you, Yuuji! — For all the gifts.” You scooped him up into your arms, peppering kisses all over his face. “I love you so, so much! Of course I’ll be your valentine. You are just too cute, aren’t ya?” You pinched his chubby cheek, eliciting a squeal from the boy. “Such an adorable little baby. I just want to put you in my pocket and take you everywhere with me.”

Yuuji nodded fervently, although he didn’t understand a thing you had just said.

All the while, Sukuna crossed his arms over his chest, huffing, before facing away from you two.

“Aww, are you mad that you're not my baby?” You turned your attention towards your boyfriend — who continued sulking — and so did his little brother, still snuggled in your arms.

“What the fu—what the heck? No.”

“That you’re not my honey bun?”

“Stop.”

“That you’re not my sweetie poo?”

“Oh my God.”

“That you’re not my—”

He cut you off, turning around and swiftly slapping a hand over your mouth so fast you didn’t even see it coming. But, what you were able to do was: lick a stripe up his hand covering your mouth.

“Eugh! You just always have to ruin my day, don’t you?” Sukuna grimaced, pulling back and wiping his wet hand on his hoodie. You let out a cheeky laugh in reply.

“I think that someone . . . is a little jealous. Don’t you agree, Yuuji?”

He nodded. “Mhm!”

“I am not jealous, matter of fact. You all are just stupid.”

“Stupid?” You raised a brow, wanting to see where Sukuna was going with this.

“Yeah. Valentine’s Day is for couples. Couples. Not friends. Not . . . not anyone else. So, Yuuji can’t be your valentine.” He smirked at the now frowning boy in your arms. “Sucks to suck.”

“We are a couple. A couple of fwends.” Yuuji nodded profusely.

“Doesn’t count.”

“Yuh huh!”

“Nuh uh.” Sukuna stuck out his tongue jokingly at his younger brother.

“My teacher told me that—that Valentine’s Day is for friends, too. She said it is also a day for fwendship.”

“Well, your teacher is stupid.”

Yuuji clawed at your arms, trying to escape in order to jump out at his brother. He was mad. Big mad.

“Yuuji, no. No fighting.”

“That’s right. Listen to your friend, Yuuji. Listen to your friend, who’s not your valentine.”

At this, Yuuji flew out of your arms and lunged at his brother, tackling him onto his back on the couch.

-

Moving on, it’s safe to say that the next day at school, Yuuji told all of his classmates that his valentine was an angel.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: smut, fingering, blow jobs, choking, man handling, age gap relationships, afab!f!reader

Poor König, just wanted to court you right and proper. There was a significant age gap between the both of you - with him taking the lead. You were a real pretty thing, and he was in love. Helplessly so.

Call him old fashioned, but König wanted to "win your heart" the traditional way. Took you out on dates that he paid in full, showered you in flowers and jewelry, did his got damned best to be "charming". Safe to say he was desperate.

Yet you didn't seem to mind. Rather, you giggled at his bad jokes, even let him pull you into his lap, leaning into him as he mapped out your curves through your clothes. A dirty, delicious, man; one who thought you were the most innocent thing hes ever seen.

Come the time you both decide you were "ready" to take the next step. Didn't take you to a trashy hotel, or fuck you in his car like other men might've. König invited you to his home, cooked you a fresh dinner of something from his native country - a pleasant conversation with dim lighting. How fucking romantic.

In his mind, you were so compliant, so swooned by his love and nuturing nature toward you. Probably hoped it would own a few blissful moans this night, afterwards he'd tell you to quit your job and live with him while you were still cock drunk. But after dinner, when the conversation slowly stumbled into the bathroom and was discarded on the floor in the forms of clothes and underwear - well, it was safe to say you were anything but the innocent bird he thought to have nurtured.

Rather, you lead him to the bed, pushing him back to a seating on the bed. His hands tangled in your hair, groaning and grunting as you nipped and kissed all his favorite places. Neck, jaw, his muscles even; you were so fucking perversely thorough. It left him weak and malleable to your desires and sinful actions.

Couldn't even question you as you begged to suck his fat, weeping cock. Just nodded with a stupid, star struck expression in his eyes. His head bobbing backwards as you licked and greedily fit him inside your warm mouth. The hot muscle of your tongue swirling against the sensitive head of his cock, followed by the vibrating moans of your throat, it was all crashing down at him at once.

The moment he felt himself about to come to a seering hot climax, you pulled away, licking your precum smeared lips, your sticky fingers earning the same treatment afterwards.

"Mhh.. Choke me, please?"

You were so bold. So unbothered by your own words. König could help but use the remained of his breath to release a laugh. Kids these days, so fucking vulgar. Though, it wouldn't sop him from grabbing that pretty throat and lifting you back to his lap.

After all, the sweet folds of your pussy practically oozed prayers of attention. And König was not about to deny his angel. He'd have his thick fingers ramming into your cunt, spreading them from the inside while you whined and cried his name; almost helplessly orgasming from some choking and fingering alone. König would give you proper whore treatment if that's what you begged for.

#zombieplayground #zombieplaygrounds #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #konig smut #cod konig

[sepublic]

Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!

Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.

I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.

Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.

Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...

There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?

Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.

…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.

#the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the owl house hunter #analysis

[fuckaperioddrama]

Draco Malfoy Headcanons

Warnings: Toxic!Draco | Bullying | Mentions of Rough Sex, BDSM, Choking, Worship/Praise Kink | Oral (F Receiving) | Mentions of Drugs and Alcohol | Let me know if I missed something.

Fem!Reader

Author's Note: I've got a love-hate relationship with Draco Malfoy.

Proofread, but might have mistakes.

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons

Blaise Zabini Headcanons

Tom Riddle Headcanons

Masterlist

Minors DNI | 18+

Draco Malfoy | Physique

5’11 | I don’t see him as being super tall.

Draco is more on the lanky side.

Working out? Physical labor? Absolutely not. | He plays quidditch for the attention. Genuinely hates sweating like ew. 

Resting bitch face. THE WORST resting bitch face. He looks like such a bitch, I can’t stress this enough. 

SO UNAPPROACHABLE 

But he is really pretty. | I know I say this for pretty much all of them, but that’s how you HAVE to describe Draco

Draco is pretty and no one can argue with me on this. 

Draco Malfoy | Personality

Dick

Genuinely awful to almost everyone

He’s a powerful person and he likes to let that be known. Always looks down on people who don’t share his status

He and Lorenzo have that same frustrating energy in very similar ways. 

Lorenzo is frustrating because he tries to pretend he’s not actually the worst.

Draco is frustrating because he just has so much audacity

“Hey, nice shirt.”

“Oh, thanks! I actu-”

“I’m kidding, that’s the ugliest fucking shirt I’ve seen in my entire life. Did you actually think I was serious? Where did you get that? The dump? Merlin, you look AWFUL! I can’t believe you left the house looking like th-”

| Regina George energy |

Was that necessary? No, but Draco doesn’t care. He hurt your feelings? OH WELL

He WILL laugh in the face of anyone who cries in front of him because why are you acting so pitiful?

Sure he just pointed out your deepest and most shameful insecurity, but geez pull yourself together.

He likes to remind everyone that no matter how hard they try they will never be him.

Because he’s Draco mother fucking Malfoy. | Duh.

FLAUNTS

Doesn’t know what humble means. If has it, he’s displaying it it.

Projects his insecurities onto others.

He treats others so poorly because that's how he treats himself. He is his own worst critic and he feels a lot of pressure from other influences in his life too.

Uptight. High Standards that everyone must meet.

Draco can still loosen upthough. He enjoys a good party.

Prefers to host so that he can control the guest list.

Whenever he doesn’t host he’ll complain the whole time because that guy would have never been let into one of his parties.

Draco smokes and drinks but it’s 50/50 on how messed up he gets

If he’s out with just Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo then he’s pretty sober because who knows what he’ll get into with those three.

If Tom or Blaise are there then he’ll go a little crazy because he knows those two won’t let anything too bad happen. | Mostly Blaise. Tom will only intervene if it’s for his benefit.

Draco Malfoy | Casanova

Draco is someone else I can see who targets other people's girlfriends

Whereas Theo does it only if their boyfriend pissed him off, Draco does it merely because he can.

Generally, Draco is very dominant in a toxic Alpha Male kinda way

He likes to go all out. Takes them on dates, wine and dine, fanciest restaurants, fanciest cars, just the whole nine.

He doesn't want them to talk much unless it’s to compliment him. He’s not so much doing the grand gestures to impress women. He’s mainly doing it to flex on other men.

He still cares in some way though because uhh

After the date, he takes them back to his room, and AHH

SO GOOD

He thrives off of pleasing his partner. If he can make a girl scream his name even ONCE he is walking around the next day like he is a GOD. | More so than usual.

Loves giving and he would never tell anyone to do this, but if you throw in some praise? One crumb of praise?? FERAL

He goes into overdrive. They thought he was good before, but if they praise him next thing they know their legs are shaking and they’re cramping so bad because they just can’t take anymore but it feels so fucking good so they will take it all with no complaints

Quite the reputation in bed.

Overstimulation, bondage, choking, anything to give him the control he wants.

But then he has someone extra special for the lack of control he needs. | I feel like this person is Pansy, but that’s a whole other story.

Draco wants to be a sub SO BAD, but he will only let those he trusts see that side of him.

One girl, MAYBE TWO! MAYBE

But even having one person who knows that side of him exists makes him so anxious so he will probably only stick to that one person.

Draco likes to talk about every single girl he fucks and he brags about his encounters regularly.

But he’s taking his secret Dom to the grave and he will gaslight the shit out of everyone if he is ever exposed. He REFUSES to let people know that side of him exists.

Draco Malfoy | Friend

Closest to Mattheo and Blaise | I KNOW PEOPLE DON’T PUT HIM IN MATTHEO TOGETHER HER! I EXPLAIN IT A LITTLE BIT IN MY MATTHEO HC BUT IT MAKES SENSE!

Draco is a good friend

He’s such a sweet guy once he gets comfortable around someone.

So supportive!! | Lucius and Narcissa loved to cheer for their baby boy so that’s how he treats his friends.

As long as it makes him look good!

If someone is playing a game with him and they’re on the opposite team then he is spending every second praying for their downfall

But if his friend is on the same team as him then he becomes so proud every time they do something right.

Look at his bestie out there showing everyone their skills and helping him win. | Go bestie!

Outside of his selfish nature, he doesn’t like to see his friends fail.

He gets really unhappy when he feels like he’s failed at something and so he projects those feelings onto others and in turn that makes him want to help his friends succeed.

He thinks if they don’t then they’ll feel the way about themselves that he feels about himself.

He will always make sure his friends have their notes, they’re in class, they’re eating, they’re studying, etc.

And if they’re doing any sort of presentation, performance, whatever he will be in the crowd like the proud parent he is.

Does not share.

If Blaise asks to use his Dior cologne he is absolutely saying no because he doesn’t want to waste any of it. | Only child behavior. No offense.

But he’ll go out the next day and buy Blaise his own.

“Here,” as he drops the box in front of him.

“Is this?”

“You said you wanted to try it,” he shrugs

“You didn’t have to buy me a bottle! You could have just let me use yours.”

“And why would I do that?”

Draco Malfoy | Boyfriend

He's so obvious when he's in love.

He genuinely treats you like you're some sort of a goddess.

Draco would not let you do anything.

He won’t do it for you, but he’ll find someone who will.

“Draco, why is Mattheo on a rampage in the library? I was walking by and heard Pince screaming at him.”

“I told him if he found that book you needed for your test I’d take him to the concert next weekend.”

“But you promised me I could go!”

“You are going.”

“Then why-“

“Shhhhhh”

You will always be his number one priority. Acts of Service

Draco will basically upgrade your life.

Does your water bottle leak sometimes? He’s already bought you a new one.

He presents you with gifts, but if it’s a replacement he usually switches them out and will tell you later.

You would need to communicate when something is sentimental because otherwise, he’s throwing it out for a new one

Door creaks? New door. The drawer won’t open properly? New dresser. Woke up with a sore back? New mattress.

He just bought the items, someone else replaced them.

Eventually, he’ll start doing some services himself too.

At first, it seems beneath him, but once he’s all in he doesn’t even have to think about it.

Puts his jacket on the ground because you want to sit and enjoy nature and he won’t let you get your outfit dirty

Will make sure to loosen up any skincare, food jars, or whatever he knows you regularly use so that you don’t have to waste time seeking him out to do it.

He knows when you’ll use them and gives himself time in his schedule to loosen them just before you need them.

Will not let you stress over anything.

The second you mention you have more than three things to do that day he’s already rejecting the idea.

“Oh, absolutely not. That’s way too much. I’ll have someone do that for you.”

He’s not letting you work. You’re too good to work.

A life of luxury, baby. Gift Giving

DRACO EXCELS IN THIS CATEGORY

You guys don’t even need to be dating for that long. On your third date, he shows up with a Birkin bag

His parents bought his love and that’s how he would treat his partner as well.

He would not let you pay for anything.

Same mentality as Theo where he just thinks it would make him look bad if you ever did pay for anything so it’s not happening. It doesn’t matter if you actually want to pay.

Why would Draco Malfoy let anyone pay for him? That’s so embarrassing.

Elevates your wardrobe. He wants to coordinate. Not so much matching outfits but if he’s wearing all black then you’re wearing all black.

Will be very controlling with this kind of stuff. He wants you to always fit his aesthetic. If he’s not wearing sweatpants then neither are you.

Why should you dress comfortably when he bought you 10 different dresses just in the last hour?

New shoes, makeup, nails, hair

Paying for your facial because his girl needs to relax.

And he’s in the chair next to you because all of those looks of disdain he gives out on the daily are giving him wrinkles. | Skincare King.

And to make sure his girl gets the best treatment

You deserve it all and he will show you that and tell you that every single day.

Little off-track Draco rant moment coming up.

I feel like when you first start dating Draco he will be a little judgmental and controlling. Like with what I mentioned about him wanting you to have a specific aesthetic

But when he falls in LOVE

He has this full-body reaction to every single thing you do.

You wake up in the morning your hair a mess, boob hanging out, crust all up in your eyes and he just looks at you and his stomach gets this queasy yet dull feeling and his mind is zeroed in on you. It’s like someone literally went into his brain and fully erased every single thought that wasn’t centered around you.

He feels the hairs raise around his body and he gets this rush of adrenaline from being both excited and so nervous because how the fuck is the most beautiful person in the world in his bed right now?

But the main thing he notices is his heart. This ache takes over his chest as he’s so overwhelmed with how much he loves you.

And to get it all out he HAS to tell you every single day. All day.

Words of Affirmation

Dating Draco means you have to be comfortable with compliments because he positively will not stop.

“The way this light is hitting you makes you look amazing.”

“I swear you’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

It doesn't matter if you're eating, studying, or talking to your friend or professor he will always find the right moment to lean forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he tells you how beautiful you are.

Once more, when Draco is in love with you, for lack of a better word, he becomes the utmost simp.

Did you pass your exams? Just barely pass them?

“You’re so impressive. You’re so smart, I can’t believe I’m dating you. I’m so lucky.”

Style your hair differently?

“You’re so creative. How do you come up with this stuff? That’s amazing, you look so good.”

Cook eggs? The most basic meal ever or even if you don’t cook and just order out

“You always know exactly what I need. I’m so thankful for you. You always take such good care of me. I appreciate you so much.”

He doesn’t care how cringey he sounds. His girl is a goddess and she deserves to be worshipped. Both with words and with Physical Touch

Draco loves to touch you, but he’s not fully comfortable with PDA.

He was raised in a household where those things weren’t proper to display in front of others.

All of his PDA is very subtle. Your hands rest next to each other as you’re sitting down and he has two fingers gently rested atop of yours.

Standing next to each other somewhere and he has his hand gripping the back of your arm. Kind of his way of showing everyone who you belong. And also reminding you that he’s there. Just so you don’t forget about your lovely boyfriend.

When you’re with friends and the air is more relaxed he’ll keep an arm around your shoulder and softly play with your earlobe.

It’s all very subtle. Then when you’re in private he becomes so annoying

He needs physical touch and he needs it NOW

After class every day he needs at least a 20-minute cuddle session. 20 minutes and no less. He will build his entire schedule around this and will bitch out anyone who ruins his time with you.

He prefers to be the little spoon and he likes to rest his head very nicely upon your boobs

Back rubs are mandatory. You need to rub his back as soon as he lays down.

Playing with his hair isn’t a necessity, but it’s preferred.

However, if you are playing with his hair then you need to commit. Don’t just run your fingers through it once and call it a day.

“Baby, please. I can’t deal with this today. I’ve already had so many things go wrong, if you take your hand away from my head again I will frankly have a nervous breakdown.”

“Draco, calm down. It’s not tha-“

“PLEASE!”

He takes the Quality Time he gets with you very seriously.

Draco can be busy, he’s not that partner who is around you 24/7 but when he is with you he is fully devoted.

Anything that might distract him is getting pushed to the side and he is 100% yours.

Do you want to watch the same movie for the 6th time in two weeks? Fully invested. He knows every line. Even if he hates it he will never act like he’s uninterested or bored.

If it’s important to you then it’s important to him.

You want to rant about how that one person pissed you off again? All ears.

Do you simply want someone to go with you to the store, for a walk, or just do the most random thing? Of course, he will come. If you need him to do something? Great, he’ll help. Do you just want company? He will gladly be a figure in the background you can talk to when you want to.

Draco will never let you believe for a second he isn’t absolutely in love with you. His love is filled with such enthusiasm and care that it’s easy to see how much he wants you in his life

And in his bed | ;)

Draco Malfoy | Committed Lover

Remember when I said Draco likes to worship you?

IT IS BECAUSE HE HAS A WORSHIP KINK

He doesn’t like to be rushed during sex. You are the most ethereal being he has ever seen and he needs to take his time with you.

He has every detail of your body memorized because he loves to look at, feel, and taste every morsel of you.

Sprawled out against his bed, frustrated and desperate because Draco has spent the last 45 minutes kissing almost your entire body, purposely leaving out the spot you need him at most.

He may take 45 minutes to an hour just focusing on the rest of your body, but he saves your breathtaking cunt for last because he has to dedicate at least three hours to that

Munch.

It’s concerning how often Draco eats you out. If you let him I’m sure he would do it at least four-five times a day. On his knees with his tongue swiftly moving over your sensitive bud while he looks up at you in awe because you just look so pretty when you cry for him.

Draco would have a hard time teasing you or withholding anything.

It’s like he goes into a trance.

Cock being sucked into your achy cunt, squeezing him so tight he feels like he can’t breathe

And then your lashes flutter and your mouth parts and he just stares at you mindlessly as he continues to drill himself into you.

You’re so pretty he can hardly focus.

Draco is adaptable. He’s a switch, but he prefers to be a sub.

It’s when his worship kink and praise kink come out the most. He wants to worship you but he would like it if you praised him in the process for being such a good boy.

On his knees staring up at you as he runs his tongue from the top of your ankle all the way to the end of your hip.

You’re sitting down as Draco rests his head against your lap-begging, pleading for you to bounce on his cock and use him like the good little toy he is.

And you do.

Draco does so much for you. He would lay the world at your feet. It’s only fair that he gets a little treat.

————

hehehehehe

#slytherin boys #draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy headcanon #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin boys headcanons #Draco Malfoy hc #Slytherin Boys hc #slytherin boys smut #theodore nott #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle #theo nott #enzo berkshire #theodore nott smut #slytherin #slytherin boys x reader #theo nott smut #Mattheo riddle

[faetreides]

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).

#what an apt contact name for him 🤐 #modern!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coryo snow #coryo snow x you #coryo snow x reader #⚰️.deaddove #coryo snow smut #coryo x you #coryo x reader #coryo smut #tbosas #tbosas x you #tbosas x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x reader #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow fanfiction #yandere smut #dark fic #tom blyth #college au #male yandere smut #tw toxic behavior

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Dentist :- Gojo suggests going to dentist to pull out Megumi's loose tooth.

A lot of things bother Megumi fushiguro. The zenin kid has beef with pretty much everything, such as socializing, loud people, and gojo satoru.

He recently developed a new ick for anything sweet, after gojo's repeated attacks on his candies.

From the past few days, this list of megumi's discommodes has added a new hassle to deal with.

One of his teeth from his upper jaw has been annoying him for quite a while. First of all it was mild, almost not noticeable, thus he shrugged it off. Then, it got slightly inconvenient, the tingly sensation he would feel while eating or having a cold drink was irritating.

Though he still didn't inform anything about it to you, he thought the pain would go away naturally and it's maybe because he ain't brushing that hard.

And as the thought process of a 7 year kid suggests, last night he brushed his teeth extra hard thinking it might help and subsequently this morning he woke up with a pain even more worse.

Megumi came out of his room, which he shares with Tsumiki, he has been in his room for half of the morning pretending to be asleep, debating with himself whether he should go and inform you or maybe wait a bit more for the pain to magically disappear.

And when he finally couldn't handle it anymore, wanting you to get his of his problem he couldn't find you.

'Whatcha doin' kid?' asks gojo, closing the refrigerator, after taking out a bottle of water to sip. He had been noticing megumi for a while, going in and out of your bedroom. He assumes Megumi wants breakfast, opening the refrigerator once again to take out the carton of milk, the loaf of bread and the jar of jam.

'brush your teeth if you haven't, till then I will get your breakfast ready.' he says, winking at the kid proudly, thinking he's such a good guardian, picking up on megumi's necessities. After all he had spent $531 on buying all those parenting books aren't worthless. So what if, he had only read 6 out of those 57 books? He would have scoffed at toji, teasing him how he knows megumi better than him.

'I don't want breakfast.' said Megumi plainly, what? An invisible arrow passes through gojo's heart, how can he be wrong? He turns around with a swift motion, discarding the breads on the counter, which he was about to put in the toaster.

Megumi isn't even looking at him, he's busy staring at the clock. 'why won't you have breakfast? Are you implying that I can't even toast a bread?'

'maybe. Where are y/n san and tsumiki?'

'out for grocery—wait don't change the topic, what do you mean by mayb—' he was about to ramble on when he noticed megumi a little more clearly.

He walked up to him, bending himself to his level, pulling at his blindfold, eyeing him as he removes them completely. Megumi's one hand is cupping his cheek, while the other is curled into a tight fist.

'You've got a teeth problem?'

'how do you kno—ah—hurts...'

'yes! I knew it. My days of reading those books aren't useless.' he felt pleased at himself, wanting to perform a ballet right now. However he calmed himself, taking a look at megumi glowering at him.

'open your mouth wide, lemme see. Which one? This?' megumi nods at him, as he figures out, he has a loose teeth.

The first one.

'you've a loose teeth. It will fall out on its own.'

'HUH?!'

'it's normal. A new one will grow out from the bare spot.' He said pushing a bit at the teeth to see how loose it is.

'ahh hurts!'

'can't do much about that.'

Megumi tucks at his sleeve, it's only been 15 minutes since gojo announced his teeth will fall out. 'what now?'

He stays quiet for a while, head low, then slowly murmurs, 'it hurts, can't you do something about it?'

'well then, open your mouth, lemme pull it out.'

'what! No!'

'you want then out right? This is the only option then.' gojo shrugs.

'.....'

'or else....'

'or else?'

'we have to go to the dentist. They will take it out with a tool, like an big sized tweezer. Let's go, shall we?'

'Hell no.'

'then lemme pull it out. Won't hurt much i swear. Open your mouth wide.'

'aaa—' Megumi opens his mouth hesitatingly, unsure what his Sensei might do, but he definitely doesn't want to pull it out with a tweezer.

'Megumi, what do you want for lunch?' gojo asks diverting megumi's attention, and before he could answer, gojo slowly pressures his index and thumb on his teeth plucking it out with little effort and a 'ow' from megumi.

'see here you go.' standing up proudly handing up his teeth in the air in victory, when megumi kicks him, 'ahh, what was that for?' he asks.

'you said it wouldn't hurt. Moreover it feels weird and blood is coming out.'

'you will get used to it. There's still a whole set of teeth to fall.'

Megumi's mouth fall wide open, at his sensei's words, he wishes the next time its you getting rid of it gently, like you do for other things. And not gojo coming up with more ideas to pluck his teeth off.

You came home to a proud gojo, flexing megumi's first loose tooth, he pulled out. He even suggested preserving it with raisin as a memory. You chuckle as Megumi shows you the gap between his teeths and how weird it feels.

'hey babe! You know what, the next time he gets another loose tooth lemme use my cursed energy to get it out.'

#jjk #jjk fluff #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x satoru gojo #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #springtime fushiguros #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk smut #satoru fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojō x reader #jujutsu megumi #megumi x you #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen megumi

[genderkoolaid]

hate to be that person but siwas rebrand is a deliberate thing to cover up the shit she put the children on her show through. aside from a kid with medical conditions being forced to continue practice even though she was bleeding from her belly button (she was told to just put a pad on her clothes to hide it and continue) she also ripped them off for a lot of money.

i wouldn't be surprised at all if it is deliberate. but that also doesn't really change my point. every single thing i've been recommended about this situation has been framed around her being Weird and Cringe. because people have been mocking his girl for her entire life & it just so happens that she has also done harmful shit which they can use to justify their obsession with mocking her. however genuine her feelings are wrt the new aesthetic, people are still more concerned with hating this girl they find annoying and weird instead of making a substantive criticism of her as an equal.

& i also think its important to point out that like. her mother seems to be the one dictating her business decisions? & i feel like its pretty easy to draw a line from her growing up on a famously heinous dance competition show to her acting heinous alongside her mom on her own show. this is not to say she's not responsible for her actions, but i also think its telling that she is the one who gets 100% of the blame while her mom isn't brought up?

like other child stars have also acted like assholes once they hit adulthood. with various motivations. and they aren't excused from their moral responsibility, but its also important to understand where they are coming from. i've seen people bring up that's she's perpetuating the cycle of abuse- which is true!- but like. has she even really had a chance to escape her own (potential, i dont want to put words to experiences i don't know about) abuse? why isn't more negative press directed at her mother, who set her up for this shit and is financially benefiting from it?

we can and should criticize former child stars but i think its vital we do so while understanding the kinds of vulnerable situations they can be in. & we should do so because we want them to grow as a person, not because we think they are Cringe and their harmful behavior is just a convenient excuse so we don't have to feel bad when we cyberbully them. i just don't see much compassion here, and i have never seen much genuine sympathy for jojo. if it is a coverup than all anyone is doing is helping them cover it up and being needlessly cruel.

#m. #ask box #jojo siwa #<- in case yall arent interested in this

[littlemorningstarx]

Warning: this is fantasy, and only roleplaying between consenting adults would make this scenes okay outside of fantasies, if you can't comprehend consent, go away. I'm very serious about this.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Imagine having a 16yo big brother who loves you so fucking much he can't stand to not touch you all the time. So by the time you're 10yo, you're already used to big bro hugging you, pulling you into his lap and holding you there, and you think nothing of the big bulge in his pants and your little perky ass.

But you're little friends are starting to talk about boys and the forbidden wrong stuff their parents do at night and you're beginning to understand why you're big bro like you so very much:

You can make him feel so good

You're so proud to discover that

So one weekend while you're parents are out of town on a work trip and left you with your brother, you sneak into his room at night time after you're supposed to be asleep and finds him smoking a weird looking cig.

You've seen the older kids smoking these kinds of cigarettes and you're curious. So when you're big brother sees you as you enter the room, you ask him about it.

"It makes you feel good, sis. Com'ere" he says in a soft tone, scutching you in his lap and he's wearing just his boxers. You love the feeling of his skin in yours and cuddles up to him, feeling his cock —your friends taught you the word— twitch under you "try it"

You tale a drag, coughing as the smoke chokes on your throat. Your big bro laughs at you, caressing the exposed skin on your thigh.

"It'll get better, just feel it"

You obey your big brother because you trust him and wants so bad to please him. So you take another hit, then another and another. You squirm a little.

"I feel dizzy" you murmur as you feel your pjs sliding off your body, your skin so sensitive it feels like you're on fire.

"It's normal, sis, and I'll show you what else is normal" your brother tells you and you feel his hands sliding down to your princess parts.

You whine as his fingers brush your pussy, a sensitive button pulsating in the middle of your legs.

"This feels nice" you say and your brother hums in agreement.

"You're dripping so good for your big brother, love" he says in your year as he keeps playing with your pussy, his fingers making you tingly and hot. "Such a good little whore for me"

You moan an agreement even if you don't know exactly what he's talking about, just wanting to make him happy.

"You know, mom wanted to send me away because she thought I might try to hurt you when we were kids, but I don't get it. I'd never hurt my little sis like that." You moan once again, bothered by the idea of your mother sending your big brother away, a possessiveness you didn't know it was possible passing through your heart with all the warmth of big bro's fingers as well.

"It feels so good, so warm, you could never hurt me"

Your brother chuckles.

"Get on all fours for me, love, I'll show you how much your big brother loves you."

It's now, you think mindlessly as you get on all fours as your brother ordered you, although you don't know exactly what you're talking about. Your body seems to know, though, and you can feel your pussy juices making your little holes and thighs wet and sticky, you can feel your little k!d cvnt throb, painfully... Empty?

You don't understand this feeling, but as your big brother gets behind you and you feel something brushing the entry of you hole, it doesn't matter anymore. You don't care that you don't understand, that you don't know anything, that you're being a dump empty-headed toy for your brother.

All that matter is your hole and how much you want it to be full.

And big bro obviously knows that, he knows you better than anyone.

"Awn, my little whore wants to get dicked down by her big brother's cock like the slut she is, doesn't she?" He says in a condescending tone as he pushes his wiener inside you. The feeling is so good you can barely breathe, his cock brushing every place inside you, rubbing every pleasure point you didn't even know existed.

"Big bro, please... I need more. More." You crie as he enters you in a punishing pace. You need to feel him entering you, pushing against your cervix even if you don't know how to say it.

"You're taking it like a fucking r@pedoll just for big bro, huh? Moaning and begging for cock like I always knew you would, you were made to take my cock." He says as he pounds into your pussy, your whole world focused on how good it feels, how wet you are, how you wish for more. "A fucking perfect r4pedoll for a perv brother like me, I was ready to pump you full of me for years now. If it wasn't for mom keeping me away from you, we could've be doing this for a lot longer, k!dd0"

You hate your mother, then, for keeping you away from this, from feeling so full, so good, so drunk in something you can barely remember your own name.

"But it's in the nature of a fucktoy to spread their legs and let their owners use them, right? That's why you cane here tonight, wasn't it?" He speeds up, groaning as he grabs your hair, pulling it rough.

You moan and thrash around him, needing it all, the feeling and warmth too much for you, sending you into an spiral.

"Gonna breed that pretty little k!dcvnt of yours, love, pump you full of my seed, make you pregnant with your brother's child. Then mom can never keep us apart again" you moan at the idea, blissfully pleasured at the thought of being bred by your big brother, of carrying his child when you're also a child.

"Yes, big brother, make your k!d sister round with your child, please" you finally find your voice, moaning so loud you'd be surprised if your neighbors haven't heard you, but you don't care.

All you care about is the cock stretching your pussy to its limits and then some.

The thought is enough to tip your brother over the edge and he cums hard inside you, pressing his balls to your tiny entrance like he wants them to enter you too, and the twitching of his cock inside you makes you cum, the cummies so strong you see white and all you hope is that big bro doesn't pull out.

That he decides to keep his cock in its home, warm and securing his seed in the place where they belong.

#under4ge #1nc3$t #patriarchy kink #4gepl4y #4g3pl4y #4g3play #4geplay #r4ape kink #r4p3 kink #r4p3b4it #r4pepl4y #r4p3 m3 #send me r@pe threats #k!dd0 #weed intox #intox cnc #intox kink #brocon #big bro/little sis #p3rvlvr #!cky daddy #!nc3st #!cky brother #fauxc3st #fauxcest #cnc free use #consensual noncon #dad cock #consent #18+ content

[dcxdpdabbles]

Wow you have a lot of series in your master post. Cave boy has been great.

I was wanting to know what would be next for Congratulations! It’s Triplets! ? Jason was horrified at the idea he passed on pit rage to his kids. But I reblogged how I thought that spiral would go. So how about him trying to explain or make it up to Jazz and the kiddos? with a twist of comedic twist of miscommunication and misinterpretation?

Though, there is no way there isn’t a media frenzy on the second Wayne son being a baby daddy. Even if there isn’t a photo there would be a story written. And that definitely limits Jason’s options in how he can try to make up for the disastrous zoo trip, as they have to lay low.

Oh the Wayne PR team will only be able to handle gossip so far so they need a long term plan for that too. Heh if they do decide on a public announcement then Bruce may be able to hang up his play boy persona and exchange it for the “grandpa that always has a hundred pictures of his grandkids on hand.” Or a gradual transition between those two personas.

Jazz was just momently thrown by the paparazzi. She is not used to the idea that she will be hounded just because she had a one-night stand with Jason.

Once she gets her wits about her, she'll treat it like Amity Park when her parents were out ghost hunting. Yes, she'll be called names in the media, but she's been called names all her life. She'll handle it.

Meanwhile, Jason will try to explain it, but he doesn't want to involve them in the nightlife, so he doesn't name it. Jazz will just assume he is talking about a mental illness that could be passed to the kids- like a meta version of bipolar or something.

Since the kids aren't really his—just a close copy of a dimension overdue—she doesn't think the three kids will have it. She doesn't mention it, though, because she doesn't want to mix the Waynes up in Ghost Politics.

The media will lose their minds, but everyone sort of knows Jason Todd was in witness protection for a while- that's why he disappeared when he was a teen, and Bruce even had a fake funeral- so they assume Jazz is from that time.

What gets most people's attention is Bruce Wayne being a dotting grandpa and the triplets being... unsettling. Jazz will eventually fall out of the limelight because she can be boring. (There are no big scandals for them to exploit. She didn't exist beforehand, so they can't dig into her past.)

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Congratulations! It’s Triplets! #Spoliers??? #More of a outline really