Tumgik
#//that this was indeed over the top and funny
mullermilkshake · 10 hours
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Yandere's meet their Darling.
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Satoru Gojo
Satoru knows he's amazing and incredible, he doesn't need to hear it to know it's true. Everybody loves him, except you. A person who denies any feelings towards him, enamoured or otherwise.
So naturally, Satoru is drawn to you.
Initially, he just observes and wonders what makes you so different and why you never fall in line like the rest of them. His infatuation first begins as an inconvenience. You inconvenience him. He can get any person he likes and toss them away like trash in a landfill whenever he pleases. But you do not allow that.
You are not interested in his subtle advances, you don't even allow him to catch you staring in his direction. Because you do the opposite, in fact for a moment, it's like you try your hardest to ignore him.
Satoru does not like being ignored.
The little signs of his interest soon become stronger and the inconvenience morphs into an odd interest about you. You're pretty, that's for sure, funny too, everything he looks for in a person he'd want to speak to on a more intimate level.
But Satoru can't stand the fact that when he expressed his feelings about you, in an appropriate manner too, you turned him down. It was pure madness. Whoever disregards his feelings are utterly insane and stupidly stupid. Well, other people, but not you.
Despite your protests, he will never think badly of you. Ever.
Satoru sees this as a game now. You don't want him, but he wants you and it's certain that you are his object of affection. He will find out how you are immune to his pretty face, his lovable charm and his outstanding morals.
You don't know it just yet, but he will have you.
Whatever Satoru wants, he gets.
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Suguru Geto
Suguru daydreams over the first time seeing you. Your bravery and insensitive cursing that left your lips without batting an eyelid. You still do.
Your spirit is strong, overwhelming to those who don’t know you because you cannot be broken. Suguru takes that as a challenge, to break you down bit by bit in anyway he can, while still remaining faithfully at your side just like his other fellow sorcerers.
Before Suguru decides to leave the side of purity and defending the weak, he wants you to join him. There’s no way you ever will whilst your ideals remain as pure as Satoru’s hair.
Suguru would rather just rip off the bandaid and take you away, but there’s plenty to do before he can even do it. He wants to use his cursed spirits and get rid of the vile monkeys, but he waits. Another agonising year to be correct.
Suguru waits until he’s past the age of eighteen, he’s an adult now, as are you. That means that no one can tell him what to do and you are capable of making your own choices. The last year has been torturous for Suguru, silently filling your head with nonsensical bullshit and at first, it doesn’t work, but then it does.
At first you prefer to sit next to Suguru, then study with him and then allow him to walk you home after the winter nights get darker for longer.
Then because of Suguru’s well ingrained methods, you even go to kiss him. He receives you and knows now, that it’s time to indoctrinate you.
You are the only person Suguru wants next to him when he steps foot into the new world.
And now he's moulded you just for that.
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Kento Nanami
Kento can’t believe his luck when he sees you at the gates of Jujutsu high. He already sees you outside of work in the little convenience store you work in, your shifts being every Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and every second Saturday. The store’s bread is currently the top on his list of regular items.
There’s just something different about you. There is indeed, a magnetic pull that keeps Kento coming back despite how terrible the other food items are.
You serve him with a smile, always a smile and it never falters. Sometime’s Kento is lucky enough to get a brush of your fingertip across his own finger during the exchange of money.
Imagine his surprise when he sees you, wandering up to the red Torii gate with a little piece of paper in your hand, you smile faded away and eyes so tired. Kento hates it that your smile has gone and later learns that it’s in fact a cursed spirit hurting you. And by chance, Kento was recommended to exorcise it.
You don’t know it’s a cursed spirit of course, just that Kento is apparently a masseuse and the lady who recommends her is the very same from that sandwich shop Kento used to frequent.
Fate has its way.
Kento knows this was meant to be and will do his best to give you comfort and continue to be the gentleman he always is. To be the respectful and trustworthy man you will call in a time of need, in fact you already have.
Accept now, you know his name. You also accepted an invitation to dinner.
Now that Kento is in your life, it’ll be rather difficult to have him exit it.
That won’t happen as long as he has a pulse.
Ryomen Sukuna
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Ryomen Sukuna
Roman Sukuna has never experienced shock, or surprise before, not until you waltz into his field of vision. Practically a carbon copy of the only person he loved during the golden age of Jujutsu.
Love is a weak emotion, but then again, it's an emotion all the same.
During the Heian ear, that person was a witch, a trickster, perhaps that's why he admires that person and it's entirely possible why he eats his words the second he spots you. Watching from a distance is all he can do for now until his brain resets itself and allows him to collect what a drooling mess he is.
Of course, he never admits it.
You by lineage, obviously a descendent are his to claim without protest from your lips. He watches you whilst he inhabits Yuji Itadori's body, noting your facial expressions, how you talk and they way you fiddle with your hair just right.
He will have you even if you don't agree, if you turn around and fight him because for the first time since his reincarnation, Sukuna senses a shift in his priorities. He hates it, shedding even a scrap of vulnerability, but that's how the world works.
Vulnerability makes people weak and he does not show it, not even allowing that punk to go through those types of memories he holds close. They are his alone and that's that.
Ripping out this body's heart could prove a useful tool to prove to you how high his affections lie, what better way to show it than giving you a still beating heart? But you strike him as the type of person who would not be that way.
You seem to be the type who enjoyed the rougher side, the raw energy of his intentions, forcefulness and unwavering perseverance.
Either way, you're coming with Sukuna when all is done and he fulfils his role as the king of curses and takes his rightful place burning the world.
With you right by his side whether you like it or not.
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Toji Fushiguro
Toji Couldn't care less when he saw you.
You were nothing. A weak person with not much going for you besides having Jujutsu high as a security blanket. He originally had been watching Satoru Gojo, waiting for him to drop his guard, he noticed you too and thought nothing of it.
Then, he stands no more than six feet in front of you, you're hurting, breathing erratically with so much blood up your arms yet still standing there to face him. Even though you just watched Satoru Gojo die by his hand, he was still there on the floor with the gigantic laceration in his neck.
Still, you didn't take your eyes off of Toji, and for the first time, it stirs something up inside him. Why are you, an upperclassman even doing with these kids? Toji does his homework and you have four years on them, is it to lead by example?
You aren't setting a very good one, picking a fight with someone much stronger than you in every way, but you still remain there, ready to take Toji on. He wants to ask you , why? How can someone be so stupid to see a man, who is your cocky underclassman and much stronger than you by far get his shit pushed in and still want to take him on?
You just stand there, trying your best to control what little hope you have left. But it isn't enough, it never is. Toji overpowers you like a butter knife to soft flaky fish, holding you in his grip whilst you struggle to make things inconvenient for him.
You don't make a dent though.
Toji has other plans than killing you like he did Satoru Gojo, he just isn't sure what those plans entail, but he'll find out soon enough.
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Choso
Choso's head is splitting as he wanders through the train station, trying his best to input the new information and store it somewhere without frying his brain. He's overwhelmed and unsure of where his footing lies. A hole to crawl into seems like the best idea, until he can mull over this sense of horrid sickness.
That's until he turns the corner and sees you running past him, almost colliding into each other. You stop and look at him as he holds fast and tries his best to keep the tears from falling over his cheeks.
He looks at you and you him, and if it isn't bad enough that his head threatens to explode, images of you plague what little brain space is functional, tripping his entire head.
What Choso does not know, in this moment, was that he was imprinting on you, filling the blanks of his memories and slotting you right where you should be. He needs to protect you at all costs, because if he doesn't you are sure to die just like his brothers.
You are special. Despite what side you are on, you even ask him if he is alright. What person on the opposing side does that? You do that. You are the saving grace amongst the sorcerer's and showed him kindness.
Choso must keep you safe and not allow anyone to touch or harm you. He was not there for his brothers and he will be damned now if he doesn't protect you in their stead.
Little does he know, that he is just on the first step to becoming obsessed and infatuated with you, and will stop at nothing to keep you right where you are.
Even if it kills him.
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Hiromi Higuruma
Hiromi first meets you as one of his clients, accused of murder you did not commit.
He knows you're innocent, he just knows it, the look of your innocent features as you walk through the door to the two way glass to ask for help. So innocent and doe eyed as you sit there across the desk practically begging him to help.
Of course he'll help, it's what he does best when his clients are against the odds. Conviction in Japan exceeds ninety nine percent for a reason. So he decides to help and offers his services pro bono. It's for the greater good of the public after all. Putting your pretty face behind bars is a travesty.
Your aura is simple, dainty and warm. Hiromi wants nothing more than to protect you, to look after you and nurse you from the legal system that has targeted you.
Because there is no way that you are hiding anything from him. He can just tell.
Whilst the prosecution builds a case, Hiromi does everything he can to make your stay where you are kept as comfortable as possible. Soon, he doesn't just come to see you to speak about the case, he also regularly comes to see you just to spend time before returning home.
It should never be a case that he fell for you while accused of such a horrible crime, but he can't help himself. He can never help himself. His thoughts on how you'll jump for joy and have no choice but to stay with him after out of a sense of duty for pulling off the impossible are continuous.
Either that of he will just ask you out himself until you do.
After all, as an attorney, it's his job to push for all the facts to get the outcome he desires.
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piers-official · 1 year
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Language :]
"Um, we don't serve those with our burgers, sir."
Piers eyes the waiter, completely puzzled by this odd notion. Currently He and Marnie are at a small burger joint in Castelia (At his sister's request) and were trying to have a nice supper before heading back to their Uncle's place. Piers glances over at Marnie with deep confusion, she simply shrugs.
"Ya mean, ya don' serve chips with the veggie burger plate, is that it?"
"No, sir... I believe you're thinking of Sub Wailord."
Well, this was even more confusing. They don't serve bloody chips with their subs. Piers quickly raises his head around the room, Everyone else seems to have chips with their burgers, so what was the problem?
"Are you alright, sir?"
"Aye, look-" He wasn't one to get mad at workers for something out of their control, but clearly they were misunderstanding him. He regains a calm composure, and continues, "-Don' mean ta be windin' up on ya, but i's a bit dodgy ta say ya don' got somethin' when ya clearly do. Ganderin' 'round, I can spot other blokes with chips sidin' with their nosh, So I'm a bit cheesed ta hear ya go off barmy like this."
A small pause occurs between the two adults, as they both stare in bemusement.
"Sir, I have no idea what you just said."
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Note
Mordecai probably lives in an apartment or something, but my first thought when you brought up the Caves on that post was that he won’t tell us because he’s been living in the Caves the Whole Time. Even tho he’d hate the slime mold.
yeah a Whole Damn House would be a bit much, and probably not as useful for the nightly bootlegging related goings on: see, freckle needing to stand around waiting for a ride before he can go shoot people. whereas mordecai can show up to the maribel hotel on foot, or at least have started out somewhere he could get a cab or whatever....and this is probably the closest to any relevant Living Situation Glimpses
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someplace with a bed, and one with an art deco headboard....a modern style, so it's neither Antique nor unfancy enough to have less identifiable stylings at all. like just by guessing surely he lives in some apartment that's unassuming enough to live unassumingly in, with whatever alias, so something large & fancy would be unhelpful....plus if he's gonna be fairly rigorous in his domestic upkeep, it wouldn't really help to have a huge place, even if for the same reasons it wouldn't be too small (or old or otherwise unpleasant; hard no to slime mold, slime, or mold....) and like re: the rotating aliases, maybe he moves places fairly regularly for good measure, been at this like, a decade....tl;dr probably has some apartment/s that's roomy but not huge, nice but not Fancy fancy, at the nexus of practicality, resources, and preferences
but it's important to think about "what if mordecai's been living in the caves the whole time" b/c that's funny lmao
#hey just now appreciating; closest we get to a t-shirt#thank you fashion shifts that said shirts originally worn as Underthings are now just for whenever: tees; tanks. i.e. ideals lol#and we do get tank top mordecai in all his ''officially debuting standing in the woods in underwear b/c he didn't parse Joking'' go off#this and that [morning routine] How are showers taken in the lackadaisy-verse? They are taken...in stride.#that one makes me laugh throughout. perfect quotidian suffering....right yeah lol ''the mundane tortures of existence''#mordecai and freckle as parallel [''unsociable'' guy constantly w/head in hands; sometimes w/gun in hands] is also always powerful & funny#perfect that they do meet over brunch & immediately; continuously; independently decline to interact w/each other at all#the power of distinctive characters in that there's no possible group/combo's interactions that would not be a delight#Living In The Caves could be a party if it was like given a real setup with furnishings and shit. depending....#i don't know anything about the environment of st. louis limestone caves#but yeah between potential Organisms & Dampness & the difficulty of having even your personal cave chamber be decidedly Clean....#i don't think he'd choose to be secretly living in the caves this whole time. sure: who would; yet he's truly a Least Likely contender lol#like rocky probably doesnt only to keep up enough of Any ''i totally have an apartment or smthng too'' appearances. a More Likely figure lo#lackadaisy#but if you move apartments do you have to move your art deco bed....however it's possible a) such furnishings come with the room#and b) he doesn't actually move around that much and c) if he does he just gets a whole new art deco bed like to hell with it#the speakeasy hitman's styled bed headboard biannual tax; as they say#looking up the history of the household vacuum. indeed the twenties are the prime time for the true onset / availability of that
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widevibratobitch · 1 year
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me when im obsessed with dead singers from 50 (well... mostly 70-120) years ago and im heartbroken to know i'll never see them on stage... never hear them breathe, never see them sweat, never even touch the hem of their garment...
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it really is enough to drive a person mad...
#this is so funny because this is the one vaguepost that i wholeheartedly 100% agree with skdhsjshsjdhsn#like yeah!! it does indeed pain me that the level of operatic singing has so drastically decreased over the last 50 years!#that top operatic stars of today are all either nasal or wobbly or knödely or completely inaudible without microphones#but some of yall are just not ready for this conversation. example a#anyway. as many have said before. its kinda easier to understand how some people cant appreciate certain operas#if they never heard them sung well lol#sorry im out of blood today. i know this is a very uncomfortable subject for many but.#you can actually judge someone's singing in a pretty objective way. there are nuances of course. but from a technical point of view#it really is pretty simple#(also its not like i dont enjoy *some* modern singers lol have you SEEN my kwiecień posting???? lmao#hell. there are even some modern singers i have a soft spot who i KNOW sing... Not Very Well. but i enjoy them lol#not many ofc but. yknow)#also 50 years ago would be the 1970s if im doing my maths correctly and. that is really the point in opera history#when it all started going downhill (sadly partly because of one of my all time favourite singers' influence... but thats a different story)#anyway. remember when luis tetrazzini said that the future generations of singers will be The Best singers in history#because they'll have access to all those recordings of The Greats Of The Past that they'll be able to listen to and learn from?#lmao queen you were right about so many things but that was tragically not one of them </3#opera tag#yes im stirring the pot of boiling liquid shit and putting this post gently into the main tag#*luisA tetrazzini ofc#lol and lmao im out FOR blood* shdgsjsghs
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zephyrchama · 5 months
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“Don’t,” you warned Lucifer. You saw that self-assured grin on his face. You knew what he was planning.
“What? I just came to see what you were doing.” He leaned on your shoulder with enough weight to tilt you several inches sideways, no matter how much you pushed back. “Don’t mind me, carry on.”
“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you retorted, but it was too late. The others were catching on.
“Hey, hey! What’s going on?” Mammon came over and pushed against your other shoulder, tilting you back upright. “What are two of my favorite people doin’?”
You tried to shrug them both off, to no avail. “We’re not doing anything. We can stop this.”
You couldn’t stop it. Asmodeus was on his way and wasted no time crossing his arms over your back, happily leaning into you from behind. You tilted forward. “Hey! What’s happening here?”
You sighed, “we’re not doing this again.”
Asmodeus teased you with honeyed innocence, “doing what, hon? Something on your mind?”
These three demons thought they were so funny.
A passing Satan made eye contact with you. In that exact moment, you used every bit of imaginary telepathy you could muster. Surely Satan would understand. He could save you. He could free you before it really was too late.
He observed what his brothers were doing, nodded, and approached with a congenial grin. Mission failed.
“Traitor!” You regretted ever agreeing to join this exchange program as Satan slowly fell back into you. You didn’t even try to catch him, you were too busy trying to remain upright under the combined weight of four demons. They were hardly even holding back.
You couldn’t see who was running up, being too busy blowing Satan’s blonde hair out of your face, but at this point it didn’t matter. They were all coming for you.
“Let me in on this!” Leviathan said cheerily.
“Yeah!” “Come on!” Asmodeus and Mammon gladly made some room for Leviathan, which was difficult because you were sinking lower and lower, and you felt another weight pile onto your back as Levi cozied up to your torso. This scenario had played out enough times now that the brothers could somehow keep you from falling over like a Jenga tower, but it was still only a matter of time.
Belphegor squeezed his way in between Satan and Lucifer and wordlessly collapsed onto you as if overcome with narcolepsy. He sure looked cozy. He smirked while you lamented, “I’m never forgiving any of you, ever.”
“Beel? Are you coming?” Lucifer summoned the cherry on top of this ridiculous parfait. You braced as Beelzebub licked the crumbs off his fingers in preparation. He knew what had to be done.
“Are you ready?” At least he had the decency to ask, unlike six other degenerates. The six lumps of dead weight each grabbed a part of your body, shifting from leans to awkward hugs. There was no way to run.
With an exaggerated “hah!”, Beelzebub’s weight and outstretched arms were enough to send everyone crashing down. You were protected from any real damage by the shell of demon brothers, but they soon had you pinned down against someone’s chest in the world’s most embarrassing cuddle pile.
“Aren’t you guys too old for this?” you asked. “By like, ten thousand years?”
“We were just checking up on you,” Lucifer said.
“Yeah, how did this happen? Hmm..!” Asmodeus’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Satan draped his leg over yours and not-so-accidentally kicked Lucifer. “You should have told us what you were doing.”
“I think it’s fun.” Belphegor was the only one to admit the truth.
Hands were running through your hair and over your stomach. Somebody was pushing the edge of your mouth up into a smile with their finger. If these guy were so touch-starved, they could have just said so, like sane people.
“My! What do we have here?”
You groaned, partially because everybody was really heavy and partially because you really didn’t need Diavolo to arrive just then.
“My lord, it appears we have walked in on something quite interesting.” Et tu, Barbatos?
”Indeed! Is there room for two more?”
Your “no!” was drowned out by seven resounding yeses.
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sttoru · 1 year
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gojo satoru was a liar.
“you’re my first love.”
to say you were baffled by this new drop of information by your lover was an understatement. you’d been dating satoru for a month now—you were friends before that. you know his playful personality well enough to be able to look through all of his jokes and teasing comments.
“hah, tha’s a funny one.” you chuckle sheepishly as you continue to gaze at the sky. you were standing at the rooftop of a building after finishing a mission together, the beautiful sunset a welcomed change after the chaos.
there was no way satoru — the gojo satoru — hadn’t been in love with anyone before you. his good looks, his power, his status, his money. . . you were sure satoru had been with many women before you. he easily could if he wanted to after all.
“not joking.” satoru frowns as you don’t believe him. it wasn’t a frown out of frustration at your reaction, but rather in a sad pouty way. his slender fingers run over the knuckles of your hand which he held;
“i’m completely serious—only ever had eyes for you.”
the doubt in your eyes was like a dagger through his heart.
“could you please believe me?”
you turn your head and tilt it up to look at the white-haired man—the light illuminating his features perfectly. especially those glossy lips. those kissable glossy lips that seem to be a magnet, begging to meet yours.
there was no way. you? out of all people he could get. ‘yeah, right,’ is what you thought to yourself. though, you knew better than to doubt satoru when he spoke so seriously to you. that usual jokey tone nowhere to be found in his smooth voice.
a rare sight; satoru being completely serious. without bursting into laughter or making even the smallest of jokes.
“yeah. i believe you.” you nod, not knowing what to say to the unexpected information he decided to share. a silence, only interrupted by the distant noises of cars honking, makes you once again realise how serious this conversation had turned out to be.
“no, ya don’t. i can see it in your eyes, baby.”
‘baby’ — your heart skips a beat. you were the only one he has ever referred to with those adoring pet and nicknames. the only one satoru’s allowed himself to be vulnerable with.
satoru’s hand finds its way to the side of your face, fingertips scratching the skin near your ear gently as he guides your body towards his. like two unstoppable forces, your bodies press against one another, feeling like one.
“look at me,” your boyfriend mutters and you do as told, your doubts instantly clearing once the sheer adoration and love radiating from his magical blue eyes tell you enough. that’s enough evidence to support his first comment —
“mhm. that’s it.” satoru sighs softly and leans in to kiss you softly, his lips on yours making you dizzy in the best ways possible, his other hand on the small of your back to push you closer to him than you already were.
the kiss was the cherry on top.
once you pulled away, the love in his gaze hasn’t faded at all. in fact, the intensity of his love for you seemed to have increased. satoru was absolutely smitten with you.
he smiles gently once he sees the realisation hit you. that was all he wanted to achieve by saying what he said to you; the pure joy on your face once you come to know that you were indeed his first ever love. the first person he’s loved in all those years he’s lived;
“my pretty girl — my one and only.”
gojo satoru was anything but a liar.
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literaryavenger · 6 months
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Thoughtful
Summary: You find something of Bucky's.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader
Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Just a whole lot of fluff.
Word Count: 1.1K
A/N: This is a dream I had and I couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to write it down. Hope somebody enjoys it!
Masterlist
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“Good morning.” you say casually to Bucky sitting at the island as you enter the kitchen.
He merely nods back to acknowledge your presence while sipping his coffee. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t like you, he’s just not a morning person. But the whole team is used to his morning grumpiness.
Also, you and the brunette supersoldier aren’t particularly close, so you don’t really expect bells and whistles when he sees you.
You pour some coffee for yourself and then sit on the kitchen island in front of Bucky. A light jingle coming from under your shirt gets Bucky’s attention and he raises an eyebrow at you.
“What was that?” He asks you, his curiosity getting the better of him.
You frown at his question before following his eyeline and seeing him looking at your chest. But he’s not staring at your boobs through your admittedly thin tank top, he’s looking under them where he can see something resting between the fabric and your skin.
You’re honestly confused at what that is for a moment before you remember and your eyes widen a little as your cheeks start reddening in embarrassment.
Bucky’s confused at your reaction as he watches you take the chain around your neck to bring out the set of dog tags around your neck and Bucky frowns even more.
“I didn’t know you were in the military…” He comments while looking at the tags and then at you, unclear as to why you’d be embarrassed about it.
“I wasn’t…” You say quietly while glancing down at the tags. “They’re kinda… yours.”
Bucky’s even more dumbfounded by your answer. But, after letting your words sink in and deciding he indeed heard you correctly, he couldn’t help the grin that started to grow on his face, much to your surprise.
You thought maybe he’d be mad, although it’s not like you stole them, you simply found them. But still, you were worried what he might think about you wearing them.
“Oh good, I thought I lost them!” He says relieved. “I looked for them everywhere.”
“Well, can I have them back now?” He asks you after a moment of silence and you realize you haven’t even taken them off yet this whole time.
So you quickly do, leaning over the kitchen island and setting them down carefully on his outstretched hand. You watch him put them on, your eyes lingering on the metal on his chest a minute longer than necessary before going back up to his. 
“And why exactly are you wearing my dog tags?” He asks, and right now you wish he’d get mad at you instead. Anything is better than the amusement that’s all over his face at watching you squirm in your seat.
“I found them at the gym… But it’s not like I was planning to keep them.” You quickly justify yourself, your tone entirely too defensive even to your own ears as you blush more. “But you had just left for your mission with Steve and I thought I would just keep them safe until you came back, so I put them on… But I had every intention to give them back, I swear!”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, doll...” He says, his grin turning into a full grown smirk as he points out the obvious. “But I’ve been back for a week, and you were still wearing them.”
“Yeah, I-I guess I got so used to them that I forgot to give them back…” You say quietly, your face turning impossibly red as Bucky seems to be having the time of his life right now.
You groan internally when you see his smirk still going strong at your embarrassment and you decide to cut your losses and not give him more fuel to add to the fire before 9am.
You get up and put your empty cup in the sink. As you turn around you’re startled to find the Sergeant much closer to you than he was before, the kitchen island no longer between you. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything or even pull away before he’s talking.
“On the other hand…” He takes his dog tags off and reaches out to put them around your neck, making sure to keep his eyes on the metal and not glance at your boobs no matter how much he wants to. “Maybe you could hold onto them for me.”
He looks at the tags on your chest then up to your face before he pulls away completely with a quiet “Beautiful.” and takes a step back, leaving you a flustered mess.
After a minute you remember how to breathe and you glance down at the tags. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. We wouldn’t want me to lose them again now, would we?” He says with a smile, reaching out to lift your chin gently and making you look at him. “But you’ll keep them safe for me, right doll?”
You nod almost without thinking about it, his eyes putting you in a trance. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right about now, all you can really hear is your own heart pounding anyway.
“Plus, now I can do this…” He lets go of your chin and wraps his hand around the chain of the dog tags. 
He uses his hold on them to pull you closer and your heart skips a beat as he leaves you a soft kiss on your lips. You barely realize what’s happening before he’s pulling away again and you merely look at him with your mouth agape in shock.
Before you can say anything, though, you hear snickers from the door of the kitchen and you both turn towards it just to see the whole team there. All of them have smirks, grins and smiles, everyone delighted at the situation as your face starts getting redder than Tony’s Iron-man suit.
You look back at Bucky and the cheeky bastard is also smirking, clearly much more amused than you at being caught like this.
“Okay, well,” You say while clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping away from Bucky to escape from this situation altogether. “I’m gonna go research the tallest building in New York so I can throw myself off of it.”
Your deadpan reaction leaves everyone laughing as they get away from the door so you can pass.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad!” Tony yells after you between laughs, obviously sarcastic and you roll your eyes.
“Bite me, Stark!” you yell back, not even tempted to look back as you try to hide a smile of your own while hearing the team’s amusement in the kitchen.
You’re still a little in shock that Bucky kissed you but, once the embarrassment at the team having witnessed it washes away, you can’t wait to follow up on this with Sergeant Grumpy.
Part 2
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kazuhaiku · 2 months
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love story
summary: kinich makes a surprise visit to fontaine and wants to spend the entire day with you, no excuses.
warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff, might be ooc kinich (it's just my interpretation on his personality as of now).
notes: silly little kinich fic as my first post >< reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)
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“kinich!” you exclaim from the hunters’ guild, a huge smile on your face as you see him walking towards you, a nonchalant look on his face as usual. “hey! i didn’t know you were visiting fontaine. you should have told me!”
“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i tell now would it?” kinich replies, ajaw beside him nodding in agreement. “what are you doing in the hunters’ guild? did you receive a new commission?”
“mhm,” you hum in reply. “lumine and paimon are taking a day off so i’m taking over their commissions for today!” you hand him the list of commissions that are currently available to do and you swear you can see a faint glint of disappointment in his eyes when he sees how many commissions there are to do. “i’m-”
“let me help.” kinich abruptly cuts you off. “you’ll get this finished faster when i’m helping. i’m allowed to help, right?” his eyes flicker over to katheryne who is smiling amusingly. 
“yes of course, if that’s okay with y/n?” katheryne eyes you knowingly. despite katheryne being a robot, she has a clear understanding of the tension between you and kinich (a little too well, if you must say).
you clear your throat. “oh um- yeah of course you can help!” kinich smiles at your answer. he keeps the piece of paper containing the commission details inside his pocket.
“come on, no time to waste. we have lots of things to do today.” kinich exclaims almost excitedly, and you can’t help but wonder what plans he’s got for you today (because why else would he come all the way from natlan to fontaine?).
kinich indeed wasted no time because as soon as there was a fight, he jumped straight into it, killing the enemies almost instantly. before you know it, the commissions are all done hours before your predicted finish time.
kinich wipes the sweat away from his forehead, acting as if he didn’t just do all the commission for you. he turns around and gives you a big smile. “we’re done now, yeah? you’re finished with work?”
“um, yeah…” you stare at kinich as if he just ate a spider.
kinich tilts his head to the side. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”
“no it’s just,” you let out a small laugh, suddenly finding kinich’s actions a bit funny. “aren’t you acting a bit too… desperate?”
“d-desperate?” kinich stutters, a red hue filling his cheeks. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
you raise your eyebrows. “really? so you did all my commissions in under ten minutes, used every single teleport waypoint instead of exploring the land like you always do, and made me watch you do the commissions instead of letting me help?”
kinich’s cheeks turn darker as you speak, and he immediately covers his face, as if his plan has been busted. “okay, you’re right. i’m… desperate.” he removes his hand from his face, pulling you into a tight hug. “i missed you so much, okay? my work lasted much longer than i had expected, and there was no time for me to write a letter to you.”
you can practically hear the pout in his voice. you gently pat his back, consoling him. “i missed you even more, kinich. how long has it been since we last met?”
“four weeks.” kinich says almost instantly.
you hum. kinich lets go of you, however, one of his hands is still holding one of yours tightly. he doesn’t say anything, and only focuses on caressing your hands, as if you are going to disappear when he lets go.
“kinich,” you call out, and his head whips up. “i’m not going anywhere.”
“i know, i’m sorry,” kinich sighs. “i had so many plans for us today but now i can’t even think of what we should do first.”
“well, considering i- we finish the list of commissions earlier than i had expected… why don’t we start from the top of the list?” you suggest. kinich’s eyes lit up, however, there is a glint of confusion behind it. “of course i know about the list. we’ve been dating for, what, four months now? i know you keep a list whenever we go out.”
kinich makes a sound of surprise and he lowers his head, slowly grabbing the piece of paper from his pocket. he hands it to you silently. “you know me too well, y/n.”
you smile, opening the paper. there aren’t many things on the paper, considering that he listed only five things; explore the court of fontaine, stop by the cafe there and have a nice little coffee date with y/n :), ride the aquabus (seems like fun), visit the opera epiclese, visit the chioriya boutique and gift y/n an outfit!
“wow…” you gasp in awe. “chioriya boutique? how’d you know i like her outfits?”
“remember the letter we last sent out to each other?” kinich asks and you nod. “well, you briefly mentioned her. how you love the outfits she makes and you made a little note on the side saying how you really want an outfit from her but you don’t have enough mora to buy one.”
“that- kinich that letter was probably sent a month ago! how do you still remember that?” you ask, surprised that he remembers the small detail.
kinich only smiles in response. “well, no time to explain. come on, let’s ride the aquabus! i’ve been dying to ride them ever since i got here.”
he pulls you and starts running, almost making you tumble. well, since he’s really excited, you can’t really complain. a happy kinich is a sight to behold.
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andreawritesit · 3 months
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Hello! I hope I am not bothering you :) I was wondering if I could ask for a Cregan Stark x Reader where they have a busy day and cuddle under the furs for the night, sweet kisses and pillow talks and all this kinda stuff. Just a small drabble would be ok.
i adore fluffy so please make it as sweet as you can, thank you :(
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Fandom: House of the Dragon
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader
Words: 952
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The arrival of winter was always a busy time in the North. As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, Cregan and you had spent the entire day overseeing the preparations for the upcoming winter. The castle buzzed with activity as you both coordinated food storage for the harsh winter to come. It was your duty to make sure that the people of the North would be well-protected against the biting cold. You had assisted Cregan throughout the day, your presence a constant source of support and encouragement. Whether it was reviewing the storeroom inventory or ensuring that the workers were well-fed and rested, you had worked tirelessly alongside him.
As the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the snow-covered landscape, the fatigue of the day began to weigh heavily on you. You glanced at Cregan, who was engaged in a final discussion with his advisors. His strong and commanding presence never ceased to inspire you, but even he looked tired at the moment. Finally, he sent them on their way and walked over to where you were standing, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You must be tired, my love. Come, let's retire for the night." He held your hand and led you out of the hall.
You made your way to your chambers, the warmth of the castle a stark contrast to the icy chill outside. Cregan held your hand the entire way. You felt a sense of relief as you entered the cozy room, the flickering fire casting a comforting glow. Cregan closed the door behind him, and the day's burdens seemed to melt away. You let out a long sigh which elicited a soft laugh from your husband.
"What's so funny, my lord?" you asked him.
He shook his head and hugged you from behind. "Nothing. You truly are very tired. Forgive me, in between all the preparations for the winter, I perhaps didn't pay much attention to you today."
You turned around still in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his torso. He rested his chin atop your head and hugged you closer to himself. "Not at all, dear husband. You were doing your duty and so was I. I'm indeed tired but I'm also quite proud of how much we accomplished in just a day."
He kissed the top of your head and released you from his hold. A chill ran over you in the absence of his warmth. Without another word, Cregan began to shed his heavy cloak and boots. You followed suit. You both moved in a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from deep understanding and mutual affection. Once you were both in your nightclothes, Cregan pulled back the thick furs on the bed, inviting you to join him.
You put your clothes on the chair and walked over to him. He had already climbed under the warm furs. You quickly slipped beneath the furs, the soft, warm fabric enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. Cregan immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. Snuggling against his chest, you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.
"You know what", his deep voice rang, sending shivers down your spine, "today was truly exhausting. It feels like there is a mountain on top of my head."
You tilted your head to look up at him, your eyes filled with care and love. "Does it ache a lot? I can call the maesters. There is no reason for you to suffer, my love."
Cregan shook his head slowly and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's nothing I can't handle. Besides, you've tired yourself enough today. Now I want you to stay here and rest."
You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. Cregan leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of warmth and love. When you finally pulled away, Cregan rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling in the cool air.
You lay there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a gentle light over the room. Cregan's hand stroked your hair, his touch soothing and tender. You were just starting to fall asleep when Cregan suddenly asked, "Do you remember the first time we met?" a smile playing on his lips.
A sound somewhat between a sigh and a laugh left your lips. "How could I forget? You were so serious and intimidating. I thought I'd never get through to you." Cregan smiled, looking at you with love and admiration in his eyes.  "We've come a long way since then," he said softly. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and tender against yours.
"I love you, Cregan," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.
"I love you too," he replied, kissing you once more. "More than words can say."
As the night wore on, the soft crackling of the fire and Cregan's steady breathing played on like a lullaby, summoning you into the land of dreams. Eventually, your eyes grew heavy, and you nestled closer to Cregan, your head resting on his chest. Cregan held you close, his arms a protective cocoon around you. "Sleep, my love," he murmured, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. "I'll be here when you wake." You sighed contentedly, your eyes fluttering shut. "Goodnight, Cregan", you breathed out before falling asleep.
"Goodnight," Cregan replied softly, his own eyes closing as he held you close.
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chososdiscordkitten · 7 months
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Gojo's Love For Hands.
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Synopsis: self explanatory, a few thoughts on Gojo's favorite part of reader ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
Pairing: Gojo x GN!Reader - below cut is F!Reader Content: below the cut is smut, a sprinkle of voyeurism, fingering, handjob, penetrative sex is mentioned, hair pulling (m), no super in detail desc of intercourse
Dedicated to; my lovely moot, @meowkn ꕤ*.゚
MDNI
Gojo liked every part of you;
Your eyelashes, the little beauty marks littered on your skin. He liked every inch of you. Even when you'd roll your eyes at his stupidity. 
But Gojo loved your hands. 
He loved holding them in his, the tips of his fingers tracing the creases of your palm. He liked intertwining your fingers with his, seeing the difference in height between your digits and his.
Satoru liked watching you talk with your hands. When they’d explain what you were feeling more than your words would. 
He liked pressing his thumb onto your knuckles, feeling the skin above the bone move beneath the pad. 
Gojo loved feeling the warmth your hands provided, reminding him that not only were you made of flesh and blood- but you were all his. 
And when yours were cold, he would happily warm them with his. Just another reminder that he’s a natural, breathing person, made of the same material you were. 
He cherished the feeling of your fingertips trailing on his skin, calloused or soft, slim and tall or short stubby- it didn’t matter to him. Only because they were yours, and yours only. 
Gojo melted in your palms when you’d cup his cheeks, caressing the swell with your thumbs as a comfort. 
For sure, he fantasizes about how a wedding ring would look on your finger. Spending too much time wondering what kind would look best with your hand shape or skin tone. Picturing about 100 different rings on your finger, all while you were unaware of his little fantasy.
He would smile to himself, watching you hold your phone while you were on a phone call- oblivious to his admiration-filled eyes. Watching how you held the piece of metal to your ear effortlessly, taking in every detail he could. 
If your nails were trimmed, if they were painted or not, mentally making note if you had any rings on. Or if you had doodled anything on the tops of your palms. 
Gojo has always been very attentive to your hands. 
Scolding you whenever he would find small gashes from you, picking at the skin out of anxiety. 
Holding your hands in his as though you had damaged some great possession of his. “You can’t do that anymore,” he gripped your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles. 
Honestly, you thought this was just some ongoing bit Satoru kept feeding into. Thinking he was joking whenever he would tell you how pretty they were. 
That was until you told him- “This joke isn’t funny anymore, ‘toru.” to which he tilted his head in confusion. 
“I’ll show you how much this isn’t a joke.” he grinned, reaching for your hands. 
The back of your knuckles hit his palm as he placed his pointer finger on the crease of your palm. Looking into your eyes with an earnest smile. 
“If I was blind, and you put me in front of 50 people and told me to find you- with only feeling their hands.” he traced the crease of your palm with the very tip of his finger- tickling your palm. 
“I would find you just by doing this.” Satoru watched your expression churn with confusion and a sheepish smile. Huffing a smile at how whipped he indeed was. 
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And when it came to your hands during intimacy?
Foreplay with him almost always included kissing the very tips of your fingers. Placing open-mouth kisses onto the sides of your fingers as he looked into your eyes. 
Having you straddling his thighs- lips moving against each other in rhythm with every small rut you made onto Satoru’s growing bulge. Hands interlocked with each other as he turned you both over, leaving you on your back and his hips pressing onto your clothed core. 
Gojo’s hands pinning yours down as he pulled away. Resting on the back of his calves as he begrudgingly pulled his hands from yours. Looking down at you with determined eyes. 
Now, Satoru would be lying if he said there wasn't was a close runner-up for his favorite part of you. A very, very close 2nd place would be your cunt. 
But his all-time favorite sight? 
Your thighs spread, feet planted on the plush sheets as you trailed your hand across your thigh. Blinking your gaze away from Gojo's crazed expression, lowering two fingers down to your soiled panties. 
“Slowly, baby.” he instructed as he palmed his prisoned cock. Cheeks flushed as you pressed onto the wet spot of your panties, softly dragging your fingers up the fabric as Satoru watched with intoxicated eyes. 
It was embarrassing whenever he would ask this of you- not understanding why he wanted to watch you pleasure yourself. 
Truth being, Satoru always liked watching two of your fingers breach your entrance- the base of your fingers pressed against your skin as you let out a frustrated sigh. 
Gojo would never admit it, but he loved watching you try reaching that particular spot inside you. So desperately trying to push your fingers in further- being able to feel how close it was the tips of your digits. 
But he’s no monster; what kind of partner would Satoru be if he just sat back and watched you struggle? 
Well- he would, for a few minutes. Then, he would offer his assistance. Telling you, “Jus’ focus on your clit f’me,” and he would take care of the rest. 
Gojo swore up and down- he could cum untouched from just watching you play with yourself. 
Your unoccupied hand pawed at your breast as the tips of his fingers quickly reached the sweet spot that made you exhale with a moan laced in it. Satoru’s finger bumped up once- and again, and again, as you called his name. 
His eyes filled with stars as he watched your pretty hands unravel an orgasm from yourself. 
And once you were finished- Satoru always made sure to clean your hands for you. Licking up the mess you made on them greedily.
All while looking into your eyes, guiding your wrist to apply pressure onto his tongue as he sucked on them.
And when you offer to blow him? 
“Nah, just use your hands.” he assured with a smile, spreading his knees in an offensive manspread to welcome you between his legs. 
He liked it when you used both your hands, watching you move them with circular motions as you stroked him. 
As pretty as Satoru thought your hands were, he knew they had to be talented when it came to giving handjobs. Almost jealous as to how easily you stroked him- mentally thinking of how many you’ve given before him. As gifted as your movements were and how pretty your hands were? There had to be dozens. 
“Nope. Only you.” you grinned, watching his eyes squint at your response. Unable to fathom how your hands were skilled with only given handjobs to him. To which you explained that he was the only one who preferred your hands; no one before him declined a blow job-
“I think I’ve heard enough.” he silenced your defense with a pout. 
And when it came to feeling your hands sprawl on his back, rolling his hips against you as he looked into your hazy eyes. 
Trailing up to the back of his nape, your fingers rub gently on his undercut before roaming up and getting lost in snow-white hair. And when he’d thrust a little bit firmer- you’d tug the tiniest bit. Causing a guttural whimper to leave his throat. 
Gojo liked feeling your hands trail over whatever part of his body they could reach- the broad of his back, leaving small trails of goosebumps as you moved them to grip his bicep. The tips of your fingers turned a lighter shade as you strengthened your grip. 
And when they trail on his ribs, a hot spark would run down his spine, settling in his tummy. Even more so when you’d place your hand flat on the side of his glutes. A daring hand roaming onto the swell of his bottom and grabbing a handful of his ass. 
What Satoru liked about your hands- was how gentle and tender they could be at times, holding him delicately as though he was made of glass. 
But he also liked it when you get grabby, unashamed groping on whatever part of his body you could grab. 
And it was a friendly reminder, knowing your hands had a mean grip. Being able to make Gojo submit to you with a light tug of his hair.
-
(a.n) this was so cute to write, giggling and kicking my feet the whole time.
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wifeyoozi · 3 months
Text
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Lee jihoon - Popsicles for dessert
w.c : 1.5 k ┊ synopsis : jihoon's tired of all the pink underwear teasing and shows you he doesn't wear one┊ content warning : smut , bestfriends to lovers kinda , blowjobs , big dick jihoon , really big dick jihoon
a/n : aka the prompt ask y'all had been waiting for is finally here. Crack and smut.
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 It's all because Soonyoung.
He started it.
The whole pink underwear drama. Jihoon, for the fact, does NOT wear pink underwear. Maybe he wore them once for the sake of one of his ex’s kinks. But he doesn't own pink underwear. There's black and there's dark grey and there's dark blue. A red one for when he's feeling extra freaky. Nothing pink.
And yet all of this fuss and teasing. And it was still bearable when it was just the boys teasing him.
But then you caught on that inner joke. Well, more specifically, soonyoung told you. On purpose. Knowing how big of a crush Jihoon had on you, his best friend. And you found that funny too. And then you started teasing him about it. And he's so embarrassed. 
And today it happened again. You two were just discussing your lives lately, and you told Jihoon about all the new make up you bought recently and how much you love that pink lipstick you got from your favourite brand. A sudden shit-eating grin spread across your face and Jihoon instantly knew where this was headed to. 
“You know, Jihoon, what else is pink”
Jihoon groaned, “oh my god, not you too! Not again!"
You giggled at his reaction, “your underwear Jihoon! You wear pink underwear, don't you? Little pink panties?”
Jihoon groaned, burying his face in the throw pillow on the couch. As you continued teasing him, he snapped. 
“God, y/n, I don't wear pink underwear,” he whined loudly, suddenly standing up, “should I show you or something?”
Your eyebrows quirked. “Why not, show me the proof.” There was a glint of mischief in your eyes. Jihoon should have known this was a bad idea. But he was tired of all the teasing already. He hastily untied the knots of his grey sweatpants and pulled them down to his thighs, revealing his slick black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. 
Your eyes widened. And the colour of his underwear wasn't the reason. It was the big bulge at his crotch which you couldn't take your eyes off. Your mouth watered at the sight. “God, Jihoon,” you were speechless. 
Suddenly shy again, Jihoon attempts to pull his pants back up, but you stop him, your hand on top of his as you move closer. He definitely has a really big dick hidden in there for the bulge to be that big.. And he wasn't even hard. Well, yet.
Your free hand moves and cups his crotch. Jihoon flinches but doesn't push you away. Instead, a soft moan leaves his throat before he could think. “Y/n what are you-”
“What fucking monster kind of dick you have in store here, Hoonie,” you can feel his dick come alive under your hand, the bulge growing as if it wasn't massive already. You palm him through his boxers. His hands fly to hold your wrist, stopping you. He really will just cum already if you keep doing that. You look up at him with a pout. 
“I want it,” you demanded, as if you were a little girl asking for candy or ice cream. Not able to hold himself back, his hand briefly looses over yours and you take the opportunity to instantly pull down his boxers, freeing his cock as it springs up, hard under your attention. 
“Oh my god, hoonie, it's so pretty,” you say, taking Jihoon's cock in your hand, examining it as though it was your first time seeing one. It was a pretty thing indeed, thick and long and only slightly darker than his fair face. It was a pretty shade of pink at the top and the purple veins prodded throughout the length. Its shape was just perfect, not too wonky or long and drippy or ugly. It was the kind of dick every girl sees in her dreams and every artist draws for their characters.
Jihoon, on the other hand, was trembling. Two minutes ago, you two were bickering. Now you had his dick in your hand. A shudder passed through his spine and he let out a whine as your tongue suddenly lapped over his head. “Y/n, you-”
“Shh, baby, sit down on the couch. I cannot stop myself from tasting this cock.” It was like you were hypnotised by his cock and he by you. He sat on the couch, his underwear and sweatpants pooled at his ankles. He opened his legs wide, giving you space to kneel in between as you take hold of his cock again. 
You lick over the length again, dragging your tongue along the veins, making Jihoon moan and groan and grab a fist of your hair. You loved when he pulled, the sting making your panties damp. You take the tip in your mouth whole sucking on it slowly. 
You try to take his dick deeper in your mouth, holding your breath as you do, before his cockhead touches the back of your throat, and it's just half way there. You forced your gag reflex to soften as you took him as deep as you can, wrapping your hand around the rest of it. You suck on it, hollowing your cheeks, feeling encouraged by all of the filthiest noises you head jihoon make. 
His hands grab your head, not pushing or pulling, but just holding it as a support as you commit yourself to giving the best blowjob you might have ever given. Your pussy feels so wet at the thought of taking this monstrosity in it. You can't take him today. You're gonna need training for it. But jihoon will help you stretch out for him. And then he'll fuck you till you can't think about anything other than his dick and how well it's fucking you. Your clit throbs. God, you're so cockdrunk over him.
Your other hands come to play with jihoon's balls, who seem big and heavy from his cum. He's close already, you can tell. So you suck on it till he's cumming down your throat with a whiny shudder, his hips tutting up in your mouth reflexively. You drink in all of his cum, the bitter-sweet malty taste making you only want more. 
Jihoon's panting. He just recieved what would be the best blowjob of his life. God, you should be put in a porn film with skill like that. His head falls back, catching a breath, as you climb on his lap, giggling as you lean in to kiss him. It's messy and wet and filthy, but he loves it. He could still taste himself on you. He wraps his arms around your waist.
It's all because of Soonyoung. 
He started the pink underwear rumours, spread it to you, had you tease him and it led to this. He's thankful to his best friend for it, but he wouldn't say it. He might write a nice song for him though as a thank you.
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starkwlkr · 1 month
Note
No smut! But could you please write about Hugh’s wife bein asked about his exquisite physique in Deadpool and Wolverine?😜
fine indeed | hugh jackman
an: anon, thank you for this request you made me go on titkok and save almost every logan edit 😭
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“I feel like I’m obligated to ask you, especially after a certain scene,” Jimmy Fallon chuckled. “Have you’ve seen Deadpool and Wolverine?”
That was the big question lately. You didn’t mind at all, you were proud of Hugh and always supported him. After the movie’s release, all anyone talked about was the ending where Hugh was shirtless.
“Yes, I have. I was at the premiere with Hugh,” you had an idea on where this interview was going. “Can I just say that I’ve gotten so many messages from friends and family about how jacked Hugh looks. One of my friends texted after she saw the movie and she’s like ‘since when was Hugh built like that? i can’t look at him the same now’.”
Then Jimmy took out a picture of Hugh posing without his top part of the suit. “I mean look at this! That’s your man!”
“That’s my man!” You smirked. The audience laughed.
“Were you on set for that scene? I know Hugh said that was one of the last scenes he filmed.” Jimmy said, putting the photo down.
“I wasn’t,” you frowned. “He actually wanted me to be on set that day so bad, but he didn’t tell me why.” You explained.
“Now you know!”
“Yup, but I think the day the filmed that scene i was with our daughter in New York and he was in LA.” You explained.
“And have you seen all the memes about it? Because it’s all over social media. You can’t escape Hugh Jackman.” Jimmy pulled out pictures of some tweets.
This is not funny anymore, he can’t keep getting away with this
that scene changed me as a woman
y/n is your husband single?
“Girl, it changed me too and I am married to him,” you blushed as the fact that you were the only one that could say you were married to Hugh. “But he spent so many months training and it payed off. Definitely makes you forget he’s 55.”
“You know there’s multiple tweets saying he’s beekeeping age. What do you have to say about that?” Jimmy asked.
“I can’t . . . say it on tv.”
@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @ru-kru @evasmlp
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pearlywritings · 3 months
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To think of lace - to lose one's mind
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synopsis: that little game of teasing you started back home promises to keep your husband on his toes throughout the whole day. Will he manage to endure? And is it really a punishment or more like a reward?
pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader
tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage), lingerie, petting, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex
word count: 6.7k+ words
a/n: this the second part of A slip of the tongue and I highly recommend to read it first!
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Ever since you bid your goodbyes to Kaveh and left the house, Alhaitham has been glued to your side. With your fingers wrapped around his wrist the two of you had a nice morning walk to the top of the enormous tree, where, upon entering the Akademyia, you immediately had many eyes drawn to you. It is almost funny how some of the students still get that stupefied look on their faces whenever your husband is spotted with you by his side, clearly not looking like simple colleagues.
You, however, ignore them, turning the opposite to the House of Daena direction and making your way to the auditorium of where your defense will take place.
The nuisance still appears in the form of some senior student, who practically jumps in your path and waves a stack of documents in your husband’s face. Oh, looks like someone is brave this morning.
“Scribe Alhaitham, I need your approval for-”
“Declined,” the man doesn’t even stop in his way, momentarily wrapping an arm around your waist and moving your bodies to step around the young scholar.
“What!?”
“Check my working hours next time. Besides today I do not accept anyone in my office or outside of it,” his hand squeezes your hip a little, and you roll your eyes with a smile. Of course, because he is making his priorities right.
Leaving the stunned student behind, you take a turn to the next corridor, which is notably emptier, and you cannot help, but tease him.
“Oh, am I making my dear husband abandon his duties? What a bad wife I am…”
“You are my duty too. So technically I don’t slack off,” his face remains stoic, though you take notice of how his hand still lingers on your hip - usually he is never this handsy in public.
“Sure, sure, if you say so,” chuckling, you lean into his side. The rest of the walk remains silent.
On the inside, however, Alhaitham’s thoughts are all over the place like an annoying buzz. The primary one is understanding that under these few layers of clothing the thin lace is kissing your skin, and his palm is directly there. The second one is of irritation, that you let him take a look, but never appreciate it properly. The third one is cursing at himself for being ruled by the thoughts of how appealing your body is, wrapped in that set of lingerie, looking like a perfect temple to worship. The fourth is rolling his eyes for the last comparison he did - Kaveh’s antics do rub off on him it seems. The current one is realizing that the next time he’ll manage to get a glimpse of the tempting sight is only back home, and until then it’s going to be many excruciatingly long hours.
Today is your test for becoming a Dastur. Right now it is his test for patience and sanity.
He manages to calm his heated mind down when you leave his side to go to the special stage from where you’d be holding your speech. The Scribe joins other attendants and members of the certification committee, but sits as far as he can and alone, to escape unwanted discussions and make his presence forgotten. Because he is here only for you, and he knows that you see him very well from where you are standing.
You smile when your gazes lock, and warmth spreads in his chest, which quickly travels south, when your fingers, as if smoothing your tunic, brush right where he knows the hem of your stocking is. Yes, it is indeed a test for his patience.
The title and introductory part is all good - his mind is cleared once again, and he admires the way you talk and demonstrate the valuable information on the slide behind you. But the longer he watches your lips move and body slightly sway and bounce when you take steps across the stage, the thinner becomes the string of self-restraint for not sliding his eyes all over your figure, imagining your without such unnecessary clothes. Until it snaps and he does. It’s a simple action, really - and no one would’ve noticed it, had they not been Alhaitham, who has been watching you like a hawk - you take a sip of the water. Just a sip, but the tiny droplet that escapes the corner of your mouth and slides down your neck and disappears under the hem of your shirt, makes the clothes before his eyes completely disappear, gleaming orbs following the imaginary path of the cooling bead on your smooth skin.
Has it been long since the last time the two of you were intimate? There is no other explanation for the man’s easily-rising excitement rather than the combination of the sexy look of his beloved wife and the lack of bedroom activities in the past month - you were too busy with preparing for your presentation, and he had a work trip somewhere along the way. He’d come home, eat dinner with you, spend time together, reviewing your work or enjoying reading his book and then go straight to bed. Of course he took notice that your visits to his office during hours at the Akademiya got fewer, but with how hectic your lives are, he didn’t give it much thought. Well, he should have.
And he definitely will tonight.
His strayed attention is back to reality and you manage to catch that moment, when in the clouded eyes appears the sparkle of clarity. Oh, you are enjoying this so much. Whatever your husband may say about Kaveh - the architect is a freaking genius. It was his idea to give Alhaitham some eye candy and then tease by not giving him more. At first you did not believe it would work, to which your blond friend only rolled his eyes dramatically, picking up his mug, and claiming that he was not blind and saw the way the ash-haired man at times devoured you with his eyes alone. Now, you see the artist really has a keen eye.
Yesterday you truly were annoyed with your partner (in the beginning) - even for a moment he didn’t want to stop and think and carefully choose his words and show you that he understands that you want some support from him and not a lecture. So now, even though you no longer hold any grudge against him, the payback feels so great. Besides you weren’t lying - having witnessed how the man was looking at you in the morning with a hardly concealed desire to touch boosts your confidence.
You want the typically reserved man to squirm.
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Three hours. It's been three, goddamn, hours, that could have been one, if it hadn't been unnecessarily stretched with the attendees' stupid questions. Alhaitham didn't even care what looks he could attract, when he grabbed your hand and led you to his office, after you were dismissed for the committee to start an equally long discussion about your academic destiny.
The fireflies were bumping all over the walls of your heart when your husband finally dragged you inside the secluded space and slammed the door closed, locking it. It was your initiative, however, to take a hold of his cape's lapels and draw him close, luring him into a kiss. Your plan is far from its end after all.
"Habibti…" his voice is so breathless, hushed words caressing your plump lips, before he dives in again, kissing them, holding you tightly between his toned body and the wall in his office. You are so pliable in his arms, leaning into him, embracing his neck, fingers burying in the short hairs at the back of it. 
On purpose you push your body into his hold eagerly, letting his palms slide over your waist and down to your hips, gliding over the curves in silent appreciation. With the stressful factor (the presentation) out of your way, there is undoubtedly neediness rising in your own system, your own realization of just how hot you would be with all the clothes off, and how enticingly would glint your husband's eyes once landed on your body again.
For a moment it gets hard to follow the plan and not give him a green light to have you right against the wall of his office.
However, you will yourself to keep your act.
Alhaitham groans in dissatisfaction when you break the kiss and draw your face back, putting the tips of your fingers against his lips, not allowing him to chase after yours.
"My love…" you make your voice extra breathy and borderline sad, looking at him with fake droopy eyes and lips drawn in a line. "I am so tired… You think I can use your couch to take a quick nap?"
It's so easy to see the shift in the man's expression. The attention he observes your features with. The hands that return to your waist, but sliding more to the small of your back to support your suddenly weakened body. The shaky sigh he releases and a gentle kiss he presses under your eye, where, conveniently, the evidence of your lack of proper regular sleep is quite apparent.
"Yes, my love, of course,"  watching him holding back once again, this time with your best interest in mind, is heartwarming and you lean close to peck the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you, habibi. I promise, we'll have our fun tonight. Can you wait for me?"
Closing his eyes and leading you to the couch he firmly nods. His self-restraint is admirable and there is just a tiny slither of guilt in your chest. But at the same time you know - some denying now will cause a greater experience later.
"Certainly. Give me a moment, I'll bring you more pillows."
"Spoiling me, huh?"
"Not yet, but I will," he holds your hand as you sit down on the plush couch Alhaitham demanded for his office's accommodation years ago. "You were great out there."
"Aw, thank you, dear," a bright smile lightens your 'tired' face, and your husband feels his heart skip a beat. If he had a genie to grant him one wish, he'd ask to see your smile every day till the rest of your lives. "Did you enjoy the way I shot all the Rajkumar's critiques down?"
"More than I probably should've," he quietly chuckles, kissing your temple and straightening to go and grab extra pillows. "I saw your scientific supervisor smirking smugly while you were at it.”
“Oh, yes, sounds like him,” you hum in acknowledgement, and the man hears some shuffling. It’s astonishing how quickly the whole mood has changed and, while you, without any doubt, appreciate it greatly, you can’t just not tease your beloved some more, right?
When he turns around with two pillows in arms though, his breath hitches - the view from before is once again in front of him. Mesmerized, he watches you carefully laying out your robe on the table, which leaves you in a white shirt only and those pretty stockings in sight.
“Love, mind grabbing a duvet for me too? I know you have one somewhere in here,” you don’t even look at him, sitting back down on the sofa, stretching those beautiful legs and letting the hem of the last proper piece of clothing left on you roll up your hips. Silently, Alhaitham walks to you, handing what he’s holding and getting a soft ‘thanks’. A minute later you are also provided with a thin blanket, and your husband receives a kiss on the inside of his wrist.
“You are the best,” burying the side of your face in a pillow, kicking your shoes off in the process of fitting onto the sofa, you let out a quiet yawn. “Wake me up in an hour alright? Bet they are going to be discussing for two.”
“Okay,” it’s hoarse and thick, falling from his dried lips, and you praise your boldness. A big palm slides under your ankles to shift your legs a bit comfortably under the piece of soft fabric, and you hide a smirk at his sneaky attempt to touch your clad in dark green legs. 
Suddenly sleepiness actually overtakes your body, growing heavy and mind foggy - you were going to spy on him, but now an actual nap doesn’t sound so bad.
The last thing you hear is the scraping sound of the chair being drugged closer to the desk.
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Alhaitham could barely concentrate on the papers in his hands. Your stunt - he really can’t come up with a better word for it - from before left his mind occupied way better than any volume before could. Sure, you’ve napped in the security of his office before, with a door locked and no visitor allowed in when you are over - but never were you this…enticing.
With an exasperated sigh, the Scribe lowers the documents and pushes them to the side, glancing at your soundlessly sleeping figure, hiding from him under that damned duvet, back turned to him and one of the pillows held close to your chest.
He sure as hell won’t do much in an environment like this - only if driving himself mad and aroused, which won’t do, at least not now.
Grabbing the back of his chair, the man carefully moves it, standing up and just as cautiously pushing it back. He could at least make some use of this hour - it’s been a while since breakfast, and he won’t be surprised if upon waking up you’d feel hungry.
Quickly writing a note and putting it on top of your robe just in case, Alhaitham picks his office keys from the desk and strides to the door, the carpet muffling his steps perfectly.
Four turns of the key later he is walking down the corridor and to the exit. The warm breeze caressing his cheek and running through the ashen locks the moment he steps outside is sobering. Lungs fill with air hungrily, making his broad chest rise and fall quite heavily, heart calming its wild pace. Archons, what his wife manages to do to him… In a process of punishing her husband no less.
The amused quirk of his lips is gone faster than anyone around him can register it, and the Scribe hastily descends down the many stone pathways. The bustling market he steps in is such a stark contrast to the quietness of the Akademiya, and it quickly overtakes his being, making the thoughts of you lose their grip on his mind. Maneuvering between the many people on each and every road, Alhaitham makes his way to the Lambad’s tavern, pace even and fast, his long legs being perfect for the task at hand.
However, halfway to his point of destination, an annoyingly familiar voice calls out for him, and only then the stoic man realizes - he forgot to turn on his earpieces. Truly, only you would make him forget even the most routine things he does.
At first he doesn’t even want to acknowledge Kaveh, pretending he didn’t hear him, but when a hand grabs his wrist, the Scribe is forced to stop.
“What?” The architect isn’t fazed by the irritation hidden behind those cerulean eyes.
“Where’s Y/n? Don’t tell me you actually left her on such an important day.”
“I did not,” it irks Alhitham how quickly his roommate jumps to conclusions, but, then again, you did “complain” to your friend about his idiotic attitude yesterday. “And if you are so concerned, why weren’t you present yourself?” “Because I had an important meeting with a client this morning and Y/n supports that,” he finally lets go of his wrist, putting a hand on his hip instead. “Besides, trust me, I was not going to sit there and watch you drooling all over your wife like a desperate idiot, I have enough of it at home.”
“My home.” “Your and your wife’s home, if we take law into consideration,” the blond huffs. “By the way, about that. You might think your face is all unreadable and stonelike, but I know your stupid ass long enough to recognize the look in your eyes and the thoughts behind them when your wife is simply mentioned. I can pretty much guess the events of this evening, so I’ll stay at Cyno’s tonight. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Oh, so your little plan was crafted by two people? He should’ve guessed that Kaveh contributed to it too. However, as much as it annoys your husband, he can’t completely brush off the usefulness of the architect at times. Especially when he intentionally and inadvertently makes your marriage so much better.
“Thank you,” the stunned look on Kaveh’s face is almost amusing, but he doesn't care to elaborate. Turning on his heels, Alhaitham walks away as if this short exchange never happened.
“What for?” He hears from behind and only quickens his pace to mix with the crowd sooner. “Hey, what for!? Alhaith-!”
This time the Scribe doesn't forget to turn his earpieces on.
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Teasing and riling up your husband proved to be an amusing and pleasurable experience - one you’d really like to repeat again. His mesmerizing eyes have not once strayed from your figure for the remainder of the day, gazing at you as you slept, as you two shared lunch, as you were named Dastur and congratulated by many, as you smiled brightly, happiness radiating from your very being. His hand was unwilling to let go of yours whenever you had to leave his side, and immediately intertwined fingers with yours once you were back with him. His lips shaped in beautiful words of quiet praise for you, pressing a kiss now and then to the back of your hand, to your temple, the corner of your lips when no one looked.
It was amazing and flattering how his body gravitated towards yours in different forms and by the time you stepped inside your shared home, your mind was set on not torturing him any longer.
And since your husband assured you of Kaveh’s absence…
Alhaitham is almost taken aback, when you grab his hand and drag him to the closest piece of furniture to push him onto - a daybed in the lounge area, not so far from the entrance. The moment his back touches the cushions and he bounces a little, you are already dragging your robe off. When he pushes up on his elbows, you are straddling his hips in an instant, palms firm on his chest and a sweet smile plastered on your lips.
“Oh, my love, you’ve been such a good boy for me today…” your voice is as sugary as the words you grace your husband with. Applying some pressure onto his pecs you force Alhaitham’s arms to give out, putting him on his back again, which he doesn’t complain about. Next you reach to take his earpieces off and immediately gasp, when the man effortlessly lifts his hips with you on top of him, to untie the waist porch with a player inside. With the device out of the way, you are no longer afraid to take action.
Alhaitham grits his teeth and throws his head back, as you forcefully push your clothed pussy against his concealed length, grinding. Fingers curl around the collar of his tight shirt and tug, baring the skin of his neck, which in a moment becomes the victim of your eager mouth. His big palms fly to your hips, burying under the white blouse of yours and cupping the tantalizing curves you’ve been hiding and teasing him with all day. Green lace is pleasant under the fingertips and he has half a mind of tugging it off, which is quickly cut off by your lips sucking a mark right under his jaw. Alhaitham quietly moans.
“Mmm, how I love these sounds of yours,” you murmur against his ear, gently biting onto the lobe, sending a slight shiver down his body. “Much more enjoyable when listening to you lecture me.”
Ah, right. This whole thing was supposed to be his punishment. Even though right now, with the way you drag your cunt against his crotch, it feels more like a reward. Good to know you’re acknowledging his efforts.
Although he can do so much more to earn your forgiveness. Plus, he did promise to spoil you.
You gasp when he uses the strength of his body to roll you two over, pinning you to the daybed and hovering above. The man takes a moment to drink in your disheveled state; legs, clad in pretty stockings, brush against his thighs in an attempt to close and hide the wet patch on the front of your panties. Then there is that blouse, which rode up to your waist, and he doesn’t waste time reaching to undo the buttons, gently swatting your hands away when you try to deny him weakly. Once open it reveals the beautiful almost see through bra, and your husband thickly swallows at the sight of your perky nipples straining against the sheer material.
“The lingerie stays on,” he almost doesn’t recognize his voice - hoarse and thick with arousal, and it seems to be doing things to you, given how you squirm from just a few words.
He sits back onto his heels, busying himself with undoing the clasps of his cape and letting you lift your upper body enough to tug the blouse off. His top is the next piece to end up on the floor and the scholar can’t help but chuckle at how quickly you start palming at the hard muscles of his chest. You mewl when he pinches your left nipple through the bra in retaliation.
For now he leaves his pants on, going back to what you were doing just mere minutes ago - pushing his clothed semi-hard dick to your pussy. He doesn’t care if there is going to be a stain on the dark fabric, all he cares about is your scorching lips finding his and drawing the man in a kiss full of unresolved need. It’s nice to know you’ve been craving him the same way he has been you and your little game affected your body too. He rubs himself between your legs, rocking his hips with vigor matching yours, while his hands cup your soft breasts, squeezing and rolling the erected nubs with his thumbs.
He catches every single moan with his mouth, not letting you go for longer than mere seconds to gasp for some air. The room grows hot, or maybe it’s just your heated bodies, glued to each other and even more so with your legs wrapping around his waist.
Archons he needs to taste more of you, not just the lips.
A surprised, borderline dissatisfied sound leaves your throat when he breaks the kiss, but is quickly transformed into a pleased sigh, as Alhaitham starts laying a path of gentle pecks down your neck and all the way to the valley between your constricted breasts. With an index finger he tugs that little center gore between the cups, enough to bare some of your tender flesh, humming in approval after you reach to roll the straps down your shoulders, letting the nipples pop out of their lacy confines too.
Right as the left nub disappears in his hot mouth and is pressed on by that skilled tongue, your hands fly to the back of his head, fingers burying in the soft ashen locks. Back arches and pussy throbs - fuck he can feel it with his cock through those little barriers you still have on. Your husband sucks and is not disappointed with the breathy moan you release and another throb of your core, which he sure is making that spot on your new panties bigger. Maybe he should help you a little.
“Shit, aaah, fuck- Haitham!” He can feel your nails slightly dig into his scalp and body jolt when his hand disappears under the waistband of your sexy underwear, the pads of his middle and index fingers immediately sliding between your pussy lips.
“Who would've thought that one of the esteemed Haravatat Dasturs got herself so worked up, that the mere touch from her husband can force such a language out of her,” the Scribe can't help, but snicker, lazily toying with the same nipple by the tip of his tongue, before carefully taking it between the teeth and slightly tugging.
It feels like the spark of electricity shoots through your body. Especially as he taps your clit at the same time.
“You are- oooh~ very mean right now,” Alhaitham doesn’t need to lift his head to see your pout, but he does so nevertheless, leaning up to give you a reassuring kiss.
“Just trying to match my wife,” he murmurs against your lips before returning to your chest to take care of the neglected nipple, two fingers entering your fluttering hole. Your mouth hangs open in a myriad of moans as he sucks and kisses the areola, all the while working his quickly soaking digits in and out of your heat. Your typically patient and lazily teasing in bed husband is making quite a quick work on preparing your body, which has you smiling proudly at achieving your goal today. Sure, moving up the scientific ladder was a satisfying thing, but having your lover so eagerly caressing you is an amazing treat.
Alhaitham hums when your hips start rocking, trying to match the thrusting of his fingers. It’s not unwelcome, but tonight he feels like doing all the work. So, he finally leaves your wet and swollen nubs at peace and, traveling another path of kisses down your stomach, pushes your body further up the daybed to come face to face with your pussy. He smiles as your fingers comb through his messy fringe, putting it up and away from his face, and he loves how your breath hitches when he looks up at you with those magnetic eyes of his, right from between your spread legs.
Not breaking eye contact, he hooks the fingers of his free hand onto the front of your panties and tug them aside. He feels how you clench around the two fingers and when he draws them back next time to re-enter more comfortably, pushes the third in as well. You are the one to look away, throwing your head back and whining his name, and he, after sucking a blooming mark right above the hem of your stocking, dives in.
Having Alhaitham put his mouth onto your cunt is a rare treat, given how much he loves teasing you and how he’d rather prefer kissing your lips, swallowing your muffled pretty sounds. And because he knows how damn loud you get when he eats you out.
Just like now, moaning and whining and barely forming any sentences while his tongue and lips are toying with the sensitive clit, fingers curling to press against your g-spot. It’s no surprise that not a minute later your thighs clamp around his head and with a sensual arch of your back and a scream of your beloved’s name you cum.
The man doesn’t care that he is being suffocated, he keeps working his fingers and mouth to help you through this mind-blowing orgasm, and only when you start kicking your feet from overstimulation, does he stop fingering you and wraps both his big hands around your thighs, forcing them open. He loves the whining sounds you make and how you try to push his head away as he licks your swollen labia with the languid strokes of his tongue, flicking the tip every time it reaches the clit.
Finally he decides to have his mercy on you, placing a soft kiss to the hipbone and pushing himself up. As he wipes his lips and chin with the back of his hand, he can’t help but appreciate the disheveled state he put you into. Locks of hair streaming wildly on the mattress, the hooded look in your eyes and the mouth slightly ajar are drawing a beautiful picture. Accompanied by your bra being pushed down and panties aside, you remind him of the ancient sculptures, depicting the true beauty of the lover’s body.
Without a second thought he leans down to kiss you. Your shaking arms are a welcomed wrap around his shoulders and he slides his open palms under your back to embrace you tighter. 
“So,” he begins after a few seconds of slow kissing, putting his forehead against yours, “would you like to continue here, my dear impatient wife, or would you like me to bring you to the bedroom?”
You think for a moment, playing with the damp hairs at the back of his neck - more to collect the shattered pieces of your mind than to anything else.
“Mmm… In all honesty, I don’t feel like moving to the cold sheets of our bed,” you eventually say after a couple of beats of silence. “And here it’s so warm already and comfortable… I want you here. Please.”
Well, if you ask so nicely.
“I am not dealing with Kaveh if he comes screaming at us for leaving stains here,” Alhaitham unwraps the lock of your hands and straightens his posture, before stepping down from the daybed to remove his pants and underwear.
“You’ll just have to be careful and cum inside,” you give your body a stretch in preparation of what is to come, letting out a pleased sound.
“Oh, I am not worried about myself, habibti,” naked at last, your husband joins you once again and, tugging the panties aside more properly, presses the tip of his fully hard cock to your entrance. “I’m more concerned about you dripping all over here.
“You-!” He effortlessly catches your hand and presses it beside your head, leaning forward and pushing the head inside. Oh, how quickly the annoyed look on your face changes to the surprised and then keening one. With every inch of his dick sliding inside, your chest rises and falls more feverishly, and more delicious sounds are drawn from your throat. A pretty unmarked throat.
Now, Alhaitham isn’t necessarily a possessive partner, but even he can’t deny the appeal of having his wife’s neck be littered with his marks. So when the last inch of him is finally settled inside you, he gives you a moment to adjust, instead focusing on sucking and nibbling onto the skin of your shoulder, slowly moving higher up the side of the neck, only to repeat all of this but in reverse for the other side. He can feel your arm wrap around him again, nails slightly digging into the muscles of his back, because you know very well, what a brutal pace your lover is capable of setting. Your breath hitches when your beloved grabs your hip, letting your other hand go, which immediately goes to his back too, and bracing himself on his now free one.
A couple of shallow thrusts are to test the waters, and when he gets a positive response of your gummy walls clenching around him but with no painful resistance, Alhaitham draws his hips back till only the tip stays inside and slams forward properly. 
A whole month without sex shows in the fast pace he quickly sets, the deep strokes that stimulate all your sensitive places, the wet slapping of skin against skin with every thrust he delivers to your pussy. It’s also in the desperate need to be impossibly close to you, chest to chest and lips to lips, tongues meeting and moans shared. The way your legs wrap around his waist once again, attempting to pull him even closer, drives the man insane, because he feels the nylon of your stockings, he is reminded how gorgeous you are at the moment, and the memory of your teasing snaps the very thread of the sanity he’s been trying so hard to maintain throughout the whole day.
You curse as he uses the hand still holding onto your hip to move your pelvis in tandem with his, pushing you down onto the daybed when he pushes out and slamming you up as he thrusts in. The squelching sound is so dirty and there is a thought at the back of your mind that you sure are to ruin the piece of the furniture, but it is quickly forgotten when your husband groans into your neck, mouthing at your jaw.
“You’ve done such a great work,” he whispers, kissing over one of the marks, “I’m so glad I came to watch you. My most amazing, smartest, patient and forgiving wife. I love you so. Damn. Much.”
Each thrust accentuating his words cuts off your attempt to tell him he doesn’t need to apologize anymore, that he’s justified enough already with his prior actions, but it seems that Alhaitham wasn’t taking it lightly than he promised to make it up to you.
You scrunch your eyes together, tilting your head back as he keeps his eyes glued to you. Cock drilling in and out of you the man licks his lips, cursing under his breath at the particularly hard squeeze of your cunt. His expression is surely the same as yours - eyebrows pinched in pleasure, jaw slack, breath labored as he is driving you both to your peaks.
“Feels good?” He asks after another deep thrust that jolts your body a little. Clit is throbbing with the need of being touched and you mewl to your husband, begging just for it. He chuckles deeply and lets go of your hip, leaning back and grabbing your legs under the knees instead. In a second you find yourself folded in half with your handsome husband jackhammering into you. As asked, he also reaches for your clit, ribbing tight circles with his thumb, eliciting the loudest moans he hasn’t fucked out of you in a while.
“Better, beautiful?”
”Yes-!”
He groans, watching your body jerk and shake at his ministrations. He can’t take it anymore, his cock throbs at just a mere sight, not to mention the telltale rhythmic clenching of your walls, warning him of your rapidly nearing orgasm.
A wail you let out as you cum sends a wild shudder down your husband’s back, pushing him over the edge just seconds after you with a moan of your name. White shoots inside, painting your walls, filling you up with warmth, greedily milked. 
It takes everything in Alhaitham not to collapse on top of you, but he catches himself right on time, one hand planted onto the mattress next to your shoulder, the other abandoning your swollen clit and sliding up your thigh to the back of the knee, gently rubbing. With deep shaking breaths he caresses the skin hidden under the nylon and then carefully puts your leg down, uncurling your body, to which you groan in relief - he makes a mental note to rub your thighs when he’ll be taking you to the bath.
For now he focuses on showering your cheeks and nose with fleeting kisses to make you squint, to hear you giggle. Your arms embrace his frame for Archon knows what time this night, and you lean up to leave multiple tender pecks on his face too and, as he quickly realizes, to try and catch his lips with yours.
Before he indulges you in your desire, Alhaitham swiftly puts his hand under your back to find the clasp of your bra, worried that the tender flesh of your chest has been squished uncomfortably by the bunched material. The relieved sigh you let out when the hooks are undone is chased after and successfully captured by your husband’s mouth.
With the bra thrown to the side, the man slowly slides his softened length out and immediately tugs your panties back in place, to prevent his cum from leaking out and onto the expensive looking cover of the daybed’s mattress. You whine at the loss, but he kisses you again, murmuring a promise of the second round, should you desire one after you finally move from the lounge area. Which you eventually do in a couple of minutes - not without the help of your beloved, your legs feel like that wobbly Padisarah pudding after all. 
As much as you didn’t want to continue your evening escapades in the bed previously, the cool sheets are a nice contrast to your heated skin now, after Alhaitham put you down to prepare the bath. With a quiet groan you roll onto your back and lift one leg, pulling the knee to your chest to remove the stocking.
Just as you throw the sheer piece to the floor and lift the other leg, your still naked husband emerges from the bathroom.
“What do you think you are doing?” You note the strange undertones in his voice even before you turn your head to look at him and notice a small scowl on his face.
“Undressing? Weren’t we going to take a bath?” Confusion paints your features, thumbs already hooked under the hem of the second stocking. The man just sighs, shaking his head and walking to where you are lying.
“With all that teasing I’ve endured today, I assumed that unwrapping your body is the least compensation I could’ve had.”
“Oh, is that so?” A smile tugs at the corner of your lips and you straighten your leg, extending it towards him and touching the chiseled abs with your toes. “I suppose you are right. You’ve done a very good job today, being an amazing supporting husband that you are.”
Alhaitham catches your foot, holding it up and placing a lingering kiss to your calf, sending blood to your cheeks. Then he slides his open palm along the length of your leg, caressing it in appreciation, inching towards the slightly darker hem. Hooking his index finger he puts on a show of slowly tugging the nylon off, making the action so vulgar and hot with the bottom lip caught between his teeth and lids half-closed, that you feel the blood running south this time.
It’s almost sobering how earnest his next words are.
“You’ve brought it to my consideration that I tend to switch off my mind when I’m around you, spewing nonsense as a result. So, from now on I promise to pay closer attention to what I say to you.”
“Habibi,” you rise onto your bent elbows, foot still firmly held in his hands, “as much as I appreciate the notion, I want you to know I am not mad. And you’ve shown today that I do matter to you more than the discomfort of staying for long around other people and your distaste for big Akademiya gatherings”.
“Oh, believe me, I know you are not mad. If you were, you would’ve put all the books lying around the house into the bookcases and put the locks on them and then made me sleep on that very daybed yesterday,” a small smile graces his face and he gives you a knowing look, right before finally tugging the stocking completely off and lowering your leg. “But I still mean what I said. I know I am not a perfect man, but for my wife I am willing to work on my shortcomings.”
“I know you do, love, it was in your wedding vows after all,” you mirror his smile, pushing yourself up, not without a small wince at the feeling of his cum leaking out and wetting already ruined panties. “And trust me, I knew what I was signing for when I decided to get serious with you.”
“Hopefully you are not disappointed,” is a quiet murmur, as he gently holds your waist and helps onto your feet.
“Of course not. It would’ve been so boring if you were always agreeing with me,” he gives you a look, but you only laugh, raising your hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you for sharing this moment with me today, Alhaitham. It truly means a lot to me.”
“Yes,” he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch with serenity etched into his features, “I am glad I was there too.”
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taglist: @meimeimeirin, @rjasmin2021, @callinz, @monamourbladie-mb
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siddyyyyyyyy · 1 month
Text
Red Knight in Shining Armour (2)
Red Hood x Reader
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wc: 6.1 K summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so. However, a funny coincidence happens; part one warnings: language, standard Gotham violence, kidnapping a/n: I originally wanted to split this into two parts, but then got lazy and just decided to keep it at that. (I also got a bit carried away)... Have fun!
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You slept safely in your bed with the thoughts of Red Hood always protecting you. It may seem delusional, but you couldn‘t care less. Not everyone gets to be saved by a vigilante on a random tuesday night. And he personally drove you back home, it really makes you wonder if he does that with every civilian that needs help. Surely, he does or else it would have been all over the news by now, right?
So, going to work the next day was rather exciting. Your best friend and coworker, Evelyn, will most likely be more excited than you when she gets an earful about it. And as soon as you enter the backdoor, you start rambling off to her and she is indeed more ecstatic than you. You both start to fangirl, mostly repeating the whole situation to her as she squeals and jumps lightly on her feet, listening to your every word.
Of course that moment of excitment didn‘t last long as you had to take care of costumers, but you already told the story four times by now and every time with more details.
You really hope Red Hood will come by later for a sweet treat, having promised him that after all. However, the bakery remains to fill the regulars and other random people, the day growing more frustrating even though the usual people come in and it stays rather full.
An elder man notices you sigh out while leaning against the counter with your elbows, the man being one of the regulars.
»What‘s wrong, dear? You have been sighing all day, is there something wrong with the orders?«
There is nothing wrong with the orders at all, you just feel very sluggish now that you don‘t see your favourite red guy anymore. Since when he became your favourite? Since the moment he wrapped his arm around your shoulders… you could still feel the distinct weight of his arm, how he radiated an oddly amount of warmth against you, and how he kept you at distance from the creep. Since the moment he squeezed your shoulder in comfort.
You truly became insane over him. Just a little.
The elderly man waits for your answer, eventually receiving a simple shake of your head. There could be nothing you could say to him that he would belive you.
»Just a slow day, that‘s all. Nothing you need to worry about, sir.«
He huffs out lightly, finally getting off his chair and walks up to the counter.
»It‘s ‚Charles‘ for you. You‘ll get an extra tip today for being so pouty. Your baked stuff is amazing, don‘t beat yourself up about it.«
He lays the money for his order and a ten dollar extra bill on top of it, making you rethink of acting pouty every day now.
»Thanks, si- Charles. Have a nice day.«
You smile gratefully at him and take the money into the register, seeing him smiling back at your brighter face before he exits the shop.
----
Unfortunately for you, Red Hood didn‘t come along in the following days and your bus didn‘t drive away from you anymore. It could be really useful now, but it seems like the bus driver really despises you. Obviously it‘s good you don‘t need to walk home anymore and can safely drive by the bus, but you also miss getting saved.
A week went by after the miracolous saving, and you‘re still hanging on by the last thread of hope that he will eventually come by. But no, no signs of him all around and it‘s closing shift anyway. Your best friend left a while ago and you are always in charge of closing the bakery, doing the same tonight as every other night.
A big crash startles you, making you jump out of your skin, and before you can realise what‘s happening, you can only make out two large people fighting violently on the floor of the bakery. You quickly run into the kitchen to hide, feeling the sudden rush of adrenaline come over you and how unsteady your breathing becomes. You cower in a far corner, holding a big kitchen knife in hand and trembling in your curled up position.
You can hear loud thuds and some sickening cracks of something getting broken, them most likely moving around as you hear glass shatters move around the wooden floor. At every grunt and scream you flinch, flinching even harder once you hear a gun go off. Wait, someone‘s shooting? In your bakery? Your heartbeat quickens even more to the point of a near damn heart attack state, but you can‘t seem to move out of your spot. After some more triggers being put off, the fight seems to come to an end. But it seems the silence is even more terrifying.
After what seemed like hours, some police siren‘s went off and are on their way to your location. With uncertain and shaky steps, you dare to peek outside of the kitchen door and try to make out what happened. Looking though the kitchen counter seems to be difficult, and you hesitantly make your way to the counter to examine the scene some more.
Watching, you notice a big brooding shadow with white slits stand at the entrance… or what used to be an entrance, before someone decided to have a fight in your bakery. The speculations didn‘t last long as you notice another brooding figure in the very dimly lit room. You quickly recognize it as no other than Red Hood, the same man that saved you just a week ago. This is the perfect time to actually give him a treat, the worries of the current situation thrown away.
Quickly grabbing a big chocolate cookie from the leftovers, you don‘t hesitate to skip to the red helmet wearing mass of muscle, with a wide smile. With your adrenaline still being skyrocketed, it doesn‘t make this easy at all though. Your hands and legs are trembling, and you are still having trouble processing what actually happened in here.
Tapping the shoulder of Red Hood, you keep hold of the cookie in your free hand. He immediately turns his head to you and he visibly relaxes, but tenses again. Bruce is going to cut his head off later, for being unaware of civilians and possibly harming them.
»Y-your sweet treat for saving me last week.« You want to slap yourself with how your voice trembles and the fact that you just stuttered in front of him. But he doesn‘t seem to acknowledge it and seems to scan you and the cookie.
Batman also has his attention on you and the other vigilante hopes the words you just said made Bruce less angry towards him. You are clearly unaware of the tension between the two and just seem to be happy by just giving your hero of the night a cookie as a small thanks. Red takes the cookie from you, having to save it for later since he can't eat with his helmet on. He simply takes it and looks back at you with a subtle nod.
»Thanks, but you didn't need to.«
You wave it off, glad he didn't seem to notice your trembling hands and slightly dishevelled look. Well, he did not acknowledge it, but Batman will surely take care of that. Ambulances are on their way already and he is sure he will grow sick from the way you look so dreamy at his son.
»Are you hurt? We'll get you some help, just lay the knife down.«
Oh, the knife is something you've totally forgotten and now your trembling hands seem even more obvious. You sheepishly lay the knife away onto the counter and follow them outside, Red Hood guiding you to a nearby ambluance to let the doctors treat you. Once there, they can only patch up the light scratches you got from the few glass splitters that flew your way from the big window and glass door. You still have no idea how they could possibly fly through that thick glass, having paid quite some money for it.
Finally, they finished with the few scratches at your side and you are left alone with a warm cup of tea to soothe your nerves and keep you warm; a silver blanket around your shoulders to protect you from the biting february cold. You have the perfect opportunity to look over the scene. Police have already sealed your bakery off with yellow tapes, now looking around to put small cards with numbers on potential evidence. From this view, you can see the few blood pools on the wooden floor, knowing it will be a pain to clean that off. Surely your clients can understand and tolerate a small haitus over a few days, if not weeks, to clean everything and renovate some things.
Sighing out, you sip on your tea and already make mental notes on what to buy and work on in your bakery. Luckily your kitchen stayed unharmed.
»How you holding up? Enjoying your tea?«
You almost jump out of your skin again at the voice that came beside you, not having noticed him approach at all. Is this why they call him Nightwing? Getting out of your small surprise, you nod and just rest the tea cup in your hands.
»Good, tea is good too.« You smile back politely, the man beside you currently leaning against the door of the ambulance slightly.
»Yeah? Is this your bakery? We didn't mean to destroy your windows and floors, we can take care of that since it's the least we could do.«
Damn his charming smile and smooth voice. You simply nod in response but your mind drifts off. What is he doing here? Shouldn't he be in Blüdhaven, fighting crime instead of here? You don't follow the news that much, but you do know that he isn't normally here. Not in a situation like this anyway. You snap out once he speaks up again.
He eventually finds out that this bakery is indeed yours and you were about to close it before these two insane maniacs accidently flew right through the big window and continued their fight there. He also finds out about how Red saved you last week and got you home safely. Somehow you managed to even ramble off to Nightwing about it. And he seems invested in your story, almost fangirling with you but keeps his laid back and smug demeanor for most of the time.
The conversation gets interrupted as Red Hood grabs Nightwing by his collar, dragging him finally away from you and also almost starting a fight with him because of that.
»Dude, this is destiny! You can't tell me this is a very strange and funny coincidence; you saved her last week and now crashed into her bakery? That's... that's-«
»Shut up, dick! We don't even know each other.« Jason snaps back annoyed, really not wanting to talk about something cheesy like this, even when he privately enjoys reading romance novels, similar to this.
»Oh, come on, she seems nice and genuinely wants to get to know you! Now's your chance, Jay.«
»Fuck off!« Jason almost growls, earning a look from Bruce who is currently approaching them. It seems like the GCPD caught the criminal and are currently driving him to his new cell, being done for tonight, if nothing other happens after this.
You attempt to peek towards their way, but you don't see them anywhere anymore, having disappear into the night again. The ambulance drives you home that night, getting told to rest for tonight and don't worry about anything else. But you do worry about something. Are they really going to replace your window and half-broken door?
----
The next day felt a little less pleasent, the wind being stronger than yesterday. You make your way to the bakery and go into the front door this time, wanting to see how bad the damage really is. The entire front window is gone, the glass splitters laying on the floor inside and outside, and your door seems to jammed and half crushed. You don't even want to know how they managed to do this.
Not even a minute later, a small group of men approach you and look kind of shady. One of them stands now in front of you and holds out an envelope, it being almost as thick as a small loaf of bread.
»Miss, we are here to repair your window and door.«
He starts, expecting you to take the envelope full of money and just trust him with the repair. Where did they get so much money from?You study them, the small group of men standing behind him and also watching you, some assessing the damaged shop. They are all taller than you, dressed in a suspicious looking clothes, but they seem to have a good motive.
»And who are you?«
»I am Bill-« He gets slapped by the back of his head, getting whispered some words. His more chirp tone gets interrupted and clears his throat before speaking up.
»We were sent from Red Hood to take care of the damage.«
He said with a more monotone and low voice, glancing to the non-existent window. You slowly take the envelope from him and nod, remembering the words from Nightwing last night again and feel relieved about it.
They get to work once you agree, noticing the small truck near by as five of them walk over and now carry the new glass of window to your shop, the other five men cleaning the mess up, and making sure the window is ready to get installed. You almost get a heart attack as you watch them carry the new window, keeping your eyes on them while they work. In the meantime, you make sure to stash the large stack of money somewhere safe, guessing it's probably more money than needed, but you don't complain.
After probably two hours of watching them work, the men seem to be finished and now clean the big window, also making sure to clean the blood soaked floor, and not knock anything over. You've counted ten of them, meaning to give them some sweets in return.
As soon as they all group up again and get ready to leave, you approach them quickly with two bigger bags in hands. One has a good amount of cookies, the other has two boxes full of éclair with different fillings. They hold back their excitement and take the bags, driving back to their unofficial base and share the sweets with the rest. Mostly giving it to the kids since they are also curious on what they brought back.
Finally, the bakery seems to return to its old self. The usual costumers arrive and buy stuff, sharing their empathy with you and also leaving you some extra tips for the repairs. If you knew this could get this much money, you would have done this way earlier. Somehow.
The following days, the men of Red Hood appear in your bakery more often. At least five of them arrive each day and buy some sweets from you, mostly getting some éclair and brownies. You don't complain, actually finding it quite cute how they buy some of your baked goods and pay you a good amount of money for it too, wondering if they buy it for themselves or even for the Red Hood himself.
Red Hood, however, hates how obsessed they seem with your sweets. It's gotten to a point where there is always either a full or half-eaten cookie laying around somewhere. The children shouldn't eat so much sugar anyway, so he tries to control the amount of stuff they buy from your shop.
Once the six men arrive back from their small shopping trip, they get greetet by a grumpy Boss. He seems to be grumbling something to himself, several curses slipping out of him while he cleans his gun on the couch. But Bill does figure out some words, something about a bakery and... is he fussing about the baked goods? Does he want more or is he trying to figure out on how to meet you again? Whatever it is, he already has a plan. If boss seems upset, he is the first to make him feel better and solve any problems he may have.
----
You are currently closing the back door after taking care of the place, having cleaned it as usual and prepared the rest for the following day. It's been probably about two weeks since you have these new, polite, but also strange regulars. They come in every day around afternoon, order about two bags full of baked goods and leave the place with small smiles. Today wasn't any different, they even left a big tip again and muttered small thanks as the other day.
Turning around, you didn't notice to see a small girl standing before you, asking for help as she claims to be lost. Of course you help her, she looks so tiny and cute as her eyes water up and seems to be close to howliing her eyes out. You kneel down to be at her level, getting something cold hit against the back of your neck. You pass out. That is the last thing you could remember, being unconscious.
Red Hood doesn't know what's worse. The fact that his men kidnapped you or that Bill used his niece for bait to get you. Either way, he has no idea what he should do now. You are laying unconsciously in the arms of the so-called kidnapper, Bill, who organised all of this. His explanation was simple: 'But Boss, you looked sad and talked about her.' No, the fuck he didn't.
But before he could scold him out and land bullets in each of their heads, you stirr in his arms. Air seems to freeze and everyone watches your next move. Red tenses and is also relieved at the same time, glad they didn't knock you out too hard. Once you can blink your eyes open, you recognise the man holding you almost immediately. Still, due to not knowing where you are or how you got here, you swing at him and fall to the ground. You yelp and grab for your pepper spray in your pocket, trying to aim it to him but realise too late that the safety click is still on.
»Lady, calm down! We brought you to Boss- Red Hood, sorry!« Bill exclaims and holds his hands up, as do the other four men who stand by him. Your heart somehow calms down, but only a fraction until you look to the actual Red Hood standing by the other side.
»What?« You huff out quietly, still aiming the bottle of pepper spray towards your supposed kidnapper.
Red only groans, the sound coming off strangled through his helmet and the distortion mic he most likely wears. »Idiots. Out.« He gruffs out, them actually listening and hurrying out of the room.
Now, this is awkward. This feels like a bad romcom-soap your grandma would watch and try to convince you of how romantic it is. You slowly put your pepper spray back into your pocket and stand off the floor. At least he isn't towering over you now, but the height difference still feels humbling to some extend.
You clear your throat and try to figure out what to say. It seems like he is doing the same, staring at you while scrambling for anything to talk about.
»Do you... need a ride home? It's almost one in the morning, so...«
He eventually suggests and you wish you could at least read his body language, but he stays as still as a stick. But the request is appreciated and you nod, actually happy to be driven home by him again. He grabs an extra helmet for you and you both make your way outside, walking the few steps to his bike.
It's mostly quiet, and you don't really know what to say yourself, just letting him help you get on and ensure that you sit safely behind him. You wrap your arms around his torso, making sure to keep them higher up, instead of listening to your intrusive thoughts and letting them slip lower. You can't even wrap them fully around him, being able to touch your fingertips together at his chest, but not more. He starts driving in a shocking speed, making you clutch onto him tighter.
You squint your eyes together under the helmet, just hoping he isn't driving too fast and possibly going over the speed limit. But even if he was, he most certainly didn't care and you start to think he just wants to bring you home as fast as possible.
And indeed, it didn't take long for you to get home, getting off the bike with some help again. His bigger hands help you take off the helmet you wear, getting a bit sheepish and secretly flustered at how gentle he is.
»Listen, I'm really sorry for this. I don't know how they got the idea of... well, kidnapping you. I'm really sorry.«
He holds your helmet in his hands as he apologises and seems genuine. Like, genuinely sorry and guilty for this.
»No, it's fine. At least I got a free ride home.« It seems he didn't expect you to be so forgiving about it and take it lightly. Were you kidnapped often that you are reacting this way? He nods slowly, straightening up on his bike.
»Still... have a good night, then.«
He drives off afterwards, having watched you walk inside your apartment complex, just to make sure you actually went home safe. ----
The next few days were actually quiet for once. The usual buff men of his didn't come in for a while until, like three days later and bought a few cupcakes and cookies this time. It's getting warmer now finally, it being march now and it starts to rain less. Even though you live in Gotham, the weather seems to work out somehow. Especially today, the sun was out for maximum ten minutes and your day got better a whole lot. After dealing with the handful of costumers that come in everyday, you can prepare the bakery to close down. Once it's done, you close the door but halt in your steps as you turn around.
Red. A red motorcycle and the red man leaning against it with his arms crossed.
»What are you doing here? Kidnapping me again?«
You step closer to him and he shakes his head lightly, already handing you over an extra helmet. »No, trying to do the opposite. You seem to have a problem with getting home safe.«
You huff out amused at his answer, secretly flustered and appreciating that he will drive you home again.
»Is this going to be a routine? Because I do hope it will.«
You question while putting on your helmet, keeping your eyes on him. He seems to consider it for a moment, in reality not wanting to come off as a creep or stalker.
»I guess so, then. Seems like you would only appreciate it.«
He shrugs and helps you getting on the back of his bike once more, making sure your arms are tight around him before he drives off. This time he drives slower and probably more cautiously. Either way, you keep your arms tight around him. Getting to the point of arriving home is the saddest part though. You step from the seat and feel the need to return the favour. Standing before him, he also doesn't leave just yet, even when he just put your helmet away.
»Same time tomorrow?« You finally manage to ask, smiling sheepishly at him. He nods almost too quickly and straightens his back lightly.
»Always.«
And on that night, you weren't sure what you two were. Of course, he is your personal uber driver now, but that doesn't stop you from becoming even more crazy over him.
----
It had been about three weeks since he drove you home himself, and he is still doing it. The brief drive back made you two become closer. Well... you are mostly talking about your day and yourself during the ride while he listens and nods from time to time.
This time though, he doesn't wait for you as usual. Indeed, you are getting worried and hope you didn't overshare the other day and scared him off that way. Okay, maybe that was dramatic, but you are really unsure now. Should you go to your bus station or wait until he arrives? If you wait and he doesn't appear, you will miss your bus and have to walk. At least there isn't any ice around anymore, it being the middle of march. But you also have some hope that he will actually arrive and you just need to wait a little longer... a little longer, and... just a little longer?
An hour came by and you missed your bus already. It probably would have been better if you just went to your bus station.
A loud sound of an engine rips you out of your thoughts and you look towards the sound, instantly recognising the bike. He stops just right before you, making you flinch at how dangerously close he is.
»I'm late, I know - something came up, just hop on...«
He gestures behind his back and you hesitate briefly before taking a seat behind him. Red hastily hands you over your helmet and waits, sighing out. He sounds exhausted and seems unlike himself. Whatever happened, you are very curious and on the verge of asking. You would have, if he wouldn't have started driving in high speed. The bike lets out an ear-blaring sound and a high screetch against the asphalt, making you hold on tighter around him. You don't hear it, but Red grunts lightly at your touch, gritting his teeth under his helmet.
He parks clumsly near your door and stalls the bike, groaning as he tries to keep himself from wincing at his pain by his side.
»What happened?« You get off the bike and stand by his side, taking off your helmet while he tilts his head away from you. He shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand at you, struggling to puts his engine on again.
»C'mon, you arrived late, you seem to be in a hurry and you breath unevenly. Something's up.«
You try to be more demanding and he stops breathing for a moment at your observation. After what seems like an eternity he caves in.
»You know how to stitch people up?«
Standing in the living room in front of your couch, on which you sit on, you stitch up his gash across his side carefully. You explained to him shortly that your father was a medic in the past and thaught you a thing or two about that stuff. You live in Gotham, for God's sake.
He stays surprisingly still during the treatment, not uttering a word or wince during the entire procedure. That's when you start to get worried.
Finally, after several minutes of dead silence, you lean away and now bandage his cut up. »You had a full on gash on your side and still decided to drive me home? Are you completely insane?«
Now the scolding starts. He had hoped you would just patch him up and let him go, but it seems like you make him stay and listen to your lecture. He stays standing in front of you, silently observing you while you scold him out and stand right before him. Your friendship had reached the level of where you can easily joke around with each other and tease, but also express concern without coming off as weird or creepy.
»You could have just texted me and tell me you wouldn't pick me up, you know? I could take the bus instead.«
He shakes his head. Of course he does.
»Wanted to make sure you are safe.«
»No, absoulutely not. Don't put me over your health, that's stupid and dangerous.«
You voice firmly but he stays calm. You have every right to be upset and angry about his antics, but he really just wanted to make sure you are safe and sound.
"Now, eat the cookie and crash here. No arguing.«
He blinks, perplex about your final words. To be honest, he didn't pay attention to your lecture until now. The cookie in his hand is new too, not having felt it there before. The red vigilante listens to you and sits down on your couch.
You watch him, eventually leaving the living room to your own room, and get ready to sleep.
You don't see him the next morning, but he did text you just around four AM.
»Thanks for patching me up, doc. Will come by more often, probably.«
----
»So, have you asked her out yet? Even gotten her number, or nah? Do you even know her name by now, or should I ask her? Are you even listening to me?«
Dick asks through the comms, making a big deal out of it. It's only a matter of time when he notices that Jason turned his earpiece off and starts annoying him all over. This night's patrol is slower than usual; Nightwing gaining the chance to annoy and interrogate his little brother.
»Well... her cupcakes are good.« That smug bastard mumbles into the comms once he sees they are turned on again by Jason's side, the sly smirk evident, even through an earpiece.
»What? Please don't tell me you visited her fucking bakery, you-«
He gets interrupted by his brother, chuckling through the earpiece like the infuriating jerk that he is.
»She knows my name by now. Because I am a regular.« Dick taunts, hoping to get a reaction out of him and also know more about the situation he has going on with you.
»Yeah? Well, she knows the names of my men and I drive her home every night after her shift. You've got nothing on me.«
For the first time, Dick is actually positively surprised about what his brother said. If this is true, then why aren't you guys together yet?
»And...?« He presses on, hoping to hear more news about the new soon-to-be-girlfriend, not wanting for him to say that there is nothing else to discuss about just yet.
»What 'and'? There's nothing else.«
Dick groans heavily, having to lean his head back in frustration and stop his observation over the city. »You can't possibly tell me you haven't made a move yet. Seriously, are you that shy or are you genuinely this stupid?«
Jason rolls his eyes and continues to cruise through the busy streets, skipping red lights while doing so. »Don't tell me what to do, you're the one who fumbled the most.«
Dick is silent after that, deciding to continue patrolling and focusing instead of prying into his brother's love life. But not without some more 'friendly' bickering between the two. ----
A month later and Red Hood has been over in your place more often, mostly because of his injuries but also because of you. He wants to actually spend more time together and for you to get to know him. Currently, he is sitting leaned back on your couch, you sitting beside him while sorting through your med kit after treating his light wounds.
Your friendship has grown to that point, where you can lean against the other without much trouble and you already took a nap against his shoulder once after patching him up.
This night seems a little different though. Mostly for Red because he is determined to chance something in your friendship. Once you place the med kit back on your coffee table, you lean against his side and sigh out. He carefully wraps his arm around you shulder to keep you close, but also making sure to give you some space if you don't want to stay close.
»Tired?« He still hasn't taken his helmet off once during your time together, hiding his identity like no other. But you do know his first name, he has given you that after you'd asked rather sheepishly a while ago.
»Not really, just... a little.«
He nods back in response and feels his heart rate pick up as his thoughts wander off. He really does want for you to know him. To really know him, not just his name. After a longer moment of comfortable silence, he clears his throat lightly and shifts beside you.
»I want you to know me.« He really doesn't know how else to start this and be more vulnerable around you. You, however, don't react shocked or with any negative reaction, just listening and staying leaned against him with his arm gently around you. He takes it as a sign to continue.
»I'm... I'm going to take my helmet off, so... just don't freak out or anything.«
Red scoffs lightly to himself and reaches for his helmet with his free hand, slowly taking it off while he feels his heart pound in his ears. You simply watch, being nervous yourself for no reason. No, you are happy. Ecstatic even, and it gives you an absurd amount of feelings in your chest that you can't comprehend.
His face his bare now, hair falling lightly into his face. Jason finally looks to you and shifts on the couch to face you better. He looks way younger than in your head but even more so handsome and beautiful. His eyes search yours, any sign of rejectment or disgust but he sees none. Indeed, he can only see the amount of adoration and affection in your gaze.
»I really want to you know me and for us to actually be more than... this simple arrangement we have going on. You are, I mean... you make me happy and you're literally, hands down, the most friendly and understanding person I've ever met. It's probably a lot for you, but I genuinely want more and for-«
You really want to hear him out and hear what else he has to say, but your emotions take over. You cut his words off with a kiss, and not just some kiss. A meaningful, and passionate kiss that should make him know how much you adore him and love him. You put all your feelings into it that even he is overwhelmed with how gentle you are. As if he could break of crumble at any moment.
Both hands holding his face, he leans closer into you and kisses you back with just as much love. Neither of you know who broke the kiss first, but you both gasp for air. He leans back again and stares back at you, cheeks flushed and heart calming down slightly.
You both feel flustered now, letting go of him and stay seated beside him.
»I was kinda impatient, sorry...«
Finally he chuckles, sending you both into a fit of giggles and he hugs you tightly, almost crushing you with how strong he is. The night ended up with you both talking even more, sharing some fleeting kisses into the early morning before you have to go to work and he needs to leave to his own business. ----
Your relationship progressed in the following months, both being super cheesy with the other in private but both of you won't admit it to anyone else.
That's when the door rings to your apartment, not expecting anyone in particular as you bake cookies with Jason in your kitchen. He goes to the door to answer it, his cheek having some flour on it while his usual black shirt also has flour spots. Not that he cares.
He opens the door and there stands his oh, so lovely brother. His eye twitches.
»Hey Jaybird, I see you're having fun, but I-«
The door closes abruptly in Dick's face and there's only some muffled words to be heard from behind it, Jason ignoring those and walking back to you.
»Who was it?«
»Dickface.«
He grumbles, settling behind you to hug you and rest his chin on your shoulder. You want to scold him for treating his brother that way but you lose your words as soon as he nuzzles into your neck. That day went by great without any further interruptions from annoying dickfaces, spending the time with you in peace after turning his phone off as well.
Jason's won't ever let anything interrupt you both.
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a/n: literally wrote this whole thing in one go, I was really determined to get this off my list. I really hoope it didn't come off as too rushed 😭😭 I hope you enjoyed it!
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xmalfoyweasleyx · 4 months
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Why do you keep laughing? - Azriel x reader
Summary: you got drunk at Rita's and ask Az to come get you, so he takes care of you, leading up to you being desperate for your mate.
A/N: I wrote something like this for Lucien, and I loved it so I decided to write this for some other characters too :) I think I'm gonna do some good old angst for Az next (but with a happy ending), you can send me ideas if you want to xx
Warnings: suggestiveness, drunk reader
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“Azzie!” you screech, running into Azriel’s arms when you finally realize he's walking through the front door of Rita’s. Az’s suspicions were right, you were indeed very drunk. Luckily, you called him through your bond to pick you up. “What are you doing here?! I didn’t expect you” you blush shyly like he hadn’t been your mate for the last 50 years.
So that makes your excitement clear, you didn’t remember calling him. “You called me to pick you up baby” he explains, stroking your back slowly. Az startles when you let out a sudden scream. “Ah! I love this song! Please come dance with me” you squeal, not waiting for his answer, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him with you on the dance floor. It was obvious you were way to drunk to properly dance, but with him holding you it wasn’t that bad. You started moving together, both smiling broadly. Azriel couldn’t help but melt when he saw the look of pure joy on your face, happily moving around.
He got even more excited when you turned around and started to rub your ass against him, slowly but sloppily grinding against him. You pulled your arms around his neck behind you. His shadows were dancing around you too, twisting around your legs and your stomach, trying to pull you even closer to him. You've always loved dancing like this with him and Az was sure he loved it even more.
He grabs your hand and turns your front into him again. You cry out a shout of happiness as you let him spin you around, but Azriel knew the move was a mistake when he saw your expression, your smile gone and a weary look on your face. “You okay baby?” he asks concerned. “Little nauseous” you breathe out. “Wanna go home baby?” he proposes. You nodded. “Do you wanna winnow with the nausea or do you want me to fly you?” “I’ll try to not throw up when you fly” you sigh.
While you’re flying home, your face is comfortably placed in his neck. “Hmm” you hum into the warm and soft skin. “I l-love you, and I loved d-dancing with you” you stuttered drunkenly. “I love you too baby” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your head. 
When you get home he gently places you on your bed, pressing a kiss on your flushed cheek. “You take such good care of me baby, my sweet Illyrian boy“ you whine lazily, grabbing his cheeks between your fingers. Az can’t help but get flustered. “C’mon, let’s get you some sleeping clothes” he says while lovingly rubbing his thumb over you cheek. “You’re sooo sweet, I have a little secret... I wanna- I wanna date you” you mumble shyly. Azriel leans his head back and barks out a loud laugh, making you look very confused and hurt. “Why are you laughing, it’s not funny” you whine, tears forming in your eyes and lower lip trembling.
“You are my mate y/n, we’re married” he laughs. “Oh my god, that’s amazing Az, I always wanted to be your mate” you squeal, pulling him in for a big hug with such forse he falls into the bed with you. “I’m so happy” you sigh in his ear, your eyes teary. Your happiness makes his heart pound in his chest. With him laying on top of you, your face pushed in his neck, it seemed like his smell suddenly made you feral.
You started placing kisses over his neck. “Please Azzie, wanna ruin you” you try, but he only laughs, even though he can’t help but blush a little because of your words and the kisses. “Why d-do you keep laughing, I’m s-serious, you look soooo good in those Illyrian leathers baby” you stutter annoyed. “You’re drunk baby” he objects. “Doesn’t matter, I want you so bad, please” you whine, pulling him closer on top of you. “Next time sweetie” he promises, mustering up all his self control.
“But.. but I.. I wanna make a child with you. Please I want to try, don’t you?” you confess. Az freezes on top of you. Where did that come from? Since when did you want this. You’ve never really talked about this before. “You really want that?” he questions. “Yes let’s try” you whisper, but it comes out too softly and your eyes are already closing. So Az laid next to you, pulling you close to him. Promising himself he will ask you about this tomorrow, when you're in a better state.
You place your hand on his chest with a sigh, rubbing over the muscles underneath his shirt. “No, no sleep, still want you Azzie” you mumble, trying to grind on his leg. “Tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you, I promise” he smiles. “You’re gonna ruin me tomorrow?” you say sleepily. He can’t help but laugh at your choice of words. “I’ll ruin you tomorrow” he chuckled in confirmation. “Good” was the last thing you whisper before you fall asleep in your mates arms. And let’s say, he kept his promise the next day.
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boothillssugarmomma · 4 months
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Screw Loose
(Boothill x Fem!Reader)
cw-: sickeningly sweet Boothill, limb detachment mentioned, hint of talk of powering down
🎀 authorsnote: Boothill is my baby and will always be my baby and I love him so fucking muchhhhh
please don't steal my work!
🎀 Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀Other Lists🎀
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"Hey, darlin! Could you grab the screwdriver?" Boothill smirks as he walks into the living room. You nearly faint as your husband walks up to you...missing an arm!
"What?" Boothill gave a headtilt and a soft smile, "Look, my arm got stuck again ok?" He rolls his eyes and ruffles your hair with his good hand.
"Now stop gawkin' cutie and help me get it off there please?" Boothill motioned over to the cabinet ,where said arm was indeed just gripping onto the handle.
Boothill's arms and legs had the tendency to jam and malfunction, that's why he kept so many screwdrivers around the house. This was a normal thing for Boothill...but not for you.
"O-Of course...honey..." You whisper, your eyes are still glued on the arm as you slowly walk up to it and give it a tug.
The arm is stuck in place, not even budging and the door of the cabinet starts creaking from your tugging with all your might. Boothill watched on, amusement in his eyes.
"What part of 'jammed' do you not get, sweetpea?"
"...fine..." You sigh as you tug it harder, your face gets red as you pull as hard as you can.
The harder you pull, the more the cabinet creaks and Boothill finally rolls his eyes and walks up to you, smacking you away and pulling his arm away from the cabinet handle and shaking it violently.
"Just watch!" Boothill's arm made some clicking noise and just worked like brand new. Boothill flexed his fingers on his arm just to see if it worked and it in fact, did work and he smirked.
"Ain't that purdy?"
"Always my love..." You blink as your nose crinkles with disturbance.
Boothill chuckles, seeing your face of disturbance.
"Don't worry, baby. I ain't gonna fall to pieces on you, 'kay?" He walked over and kissed the top of your head.
"Seems like you already are my dear..." You poke his arm just to be sure it'll stay on.
Upon your poking, his arm gives a mechanical groan in protest from you poking at it and it just goes completely limp.
"Ah, my sweetpea." Boothill muttered the last part under his breath and he gave a scoffing laugh at his arm.
"What'd I tell you? I ain't broken down on you."
"Hmm..." You finally smile and lean up to kiss him.
Boothill kisses back, wrapping his own arm around your waist and holding you closer to him.
"See? I'm just a little wonky from time to time." Boothill gave a little chuckle, "The perks of being mechanical, huh?" His smirk widened at his last little statement.
"Perks is a funny way to put it..." You laughed softly before hugging into him.
Boothill smiled and held you close, placing his chin on the top of your head as you hugged into him.
"You gotta admit it, sweetpea. Not everything about being a bionic cowboy is bad." Boothill laughed softly, "I'm still me at the end of the day despite being mechanical like this. Nothin' changed 'xcept my flesh and organs are different than yours."
You glance up at him and sigh. "Boothill what am I going to do with you..."
He chuckled at your little comment and smiled, "Just hold onto me and hope I don't shut down one day." he teased slightly and ruffled your hair.
Boothill wasn't like many other men and you had to learn to live with that. A mechanical man was all he was. But Boothill was still the same man you fell in love with.
"Say...darling..." You whisper softly. "If you ever...were to shut down..." You trail off as your eyes begin to water.
"Don't even go there, sweetpea." Boothill muttered, pulling you even closer to him now and holding you close to him. He had his chin back on the top of your head as his arms were wrapped around you.
"Listen to me, baby." Boothyll whispered, "Ain't goin' down anytime soon." his drawl was firm and serious, meaning every word of what he said.
"Promise?" You swallow harshly and take sharp breaths against his metal chest.
"I promise, baby." Boothill whispered into your ear, "But...if I ever do go down, I don't want you to morn me long." he said quietly.
"I want you to carry on living for me."
Boothill was deadly serious, he didn't want you to have a moment where you'll just waste away in sadness for him.
"Stop it, don't say that!" You smack his arm softly. You both freeze as it starts to creak.
The arm slowly creaks before falling down to the ground , this time it was his left arm.
"Oh, honey." Boothill muttered, "Please don't break me anymore." he said in his low drawl, a teasing tone.
"I'm sorry!" You whine and rush off to find a screwdriver for your husband.
Boothilly just watches on amused as you run to find a screwdriver and you rush back to him with the screwdriver.
"Easy, sweetheart." Boothill laughs softly at your haste and he turns around so you can fix his arm.
"I didn't mean to..." You sigh as you carefully pick up his arm, a look of pure disgust crosses your face before fading into a neutral expression.
You could tell Boothill was holding back his own laugh at the expression you made, watching on as you carefully pick up his arm with the screwdriver.
"Just fix me up so we can get this over with." he muttered, still amused but was eager to get this over with.
You carefully begin to fix it with a puzzled look. "I don't know...how?"
You managed to start fixing his arm back on, but it'll take a while due to how complicated Boothill's arms and legs were.
"You just gotta turn the screw driver on the screw." Boothill told you, a bit of annoyance in his voice, "How far away are you from fixing this, darlin'?"
"I'm trying my love..." You assure him.
"I know, honey." Boothill muttered quietly and tried to sit still, "Just a little while longer." his voice drawled out. He could feel you working on his arm and he just prayed you wouldn't somehow mess it up.
"You're nearly at the finish line, baby."
"That's what she said." You smirk. The room goes quiet.
Boothill was speechless and completely flabbergasted at your boldness to finish his sentence and he just looked at you, mouth still slightly open before he burst out into a fit of laughter.
"Oh, you little devil." he grinned, "Seems you're learning a few things from me, ain't ya?"
"Learned from the..." You trail off as you screw a screw on. "The best!" You smile as his arm starts to move again.
Boothill can feel his arm working again and he gives it a small flex, "See? Told you it's not that complicated." he grinned.
Boothill gives you a kiss on the cheek and pulls you close to him.
"You did a good job, sweetheart." he whispered into your ear, "Ain't you just a smart cookie."
You giggle softly at the chain of praise he whispers into your ear. Eyes shining with pure love and adoration.
Boothill could see the love in your eyes as he whispered praises to you and he just smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek before kissing your lips.
"I'm the luckiest cowboy, ain't I? Having you in my life, in my arms." he whispered to you, "I'd do anything for you, darling."
"R-Really?" You whisper softly as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Really." Boothill whispered back, smiling as he tucked that stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"Ain't a day goes by where I ain't proud to say that you're my girl." he whispered quietly, giving a sweet kiss to your forehead.
"I love you..." You smile warmly up at him.
Boothill gives a genuine smile as he gently lifts your chin up with his hand, leaning down as his hand gently cups your face and he smiles down at you.
"I love you more." he whispered back to you, leaning down to kiss your lips gently.
"I love you most..." You giggle.
"You're such a little minx, yknow that?" Boothill whispered to you as he pulled you closer to him and held you close. He just held you close to him, smiling softly as he held you in his arms like you were his entire world...well technically...you are his entire world.
"But you love that~" You tease before leaning up to kiss his nose.
"True, true." Boothill chuckled and grinned down at you after you kissed his nose.
"You keep this up, I might malfunction with a love bug if you get any sweeter." He joked and grinned down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
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🎀End🎀
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