#What Is DART AI

[marketingprofitmedia]

DART AI Review – Unlimited High Quality Free Buyer Traffic

Welcome to my DART AI Review Post. This is a real user-based DART AI review where I will focus on the features, upgrades, demo, pricing and bonus, how DART AI can help you, and my opinion. This is where DART AI Generate Unlimited High Quality Web 3.0 Backlinks And Free Buyer Traffic On Demand In Less Than 3 Minutes.

Imagine, before diving headfirst into this enticing proposition, it’s crucial to delve deeper. This comprehensive review aims to shed light on DART AI, analyzing its features, effectiveness, and potential drawbacks to help you make an informed decision about its role in your SEO strategy. We’ll explore the tool’s claims, its purported functionalities, and potential benefits and risks associated with its use. Ultimately, we’ll equip you with the knowledge necessary to determine whether DART AI aligns with your ethical and sustainable SEO goals.

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DART AI Review: What Is It?

DART AI, marketed as the “World’s Premiere Google DeepMind Gemini AI-Based Technology,” claims to utilize cutting-edge AI to generate high-quality backlinks and drive free buyer traffic to your website, blogs, and social media profiles. It promises to achieve this “in just 3 minutes” and rank your content on top of search engines like Google, Yahoo, Bing, YouTube, and Rumble.

The tool boasts an effortless user interface, making it accessible even for individuals with no prior SEO experience. Additionally, DART AI claims to integrate seamlessly with social media platforms, potentially boosting your online presence across various channels. However, the specifics of its workings remain shrouded in some secrecy, raising concerns about the legitimacy and potential risks associated with its methods.

DART AI Review: Overview

Creator: Art Flair & Pallab Ghosal

Product: DART AI

Date Of Launch: 2024-Feb-16

Time Of Launch: 10:00 EST

Front-End Price: $17

Official Website: Click Here

Product Type: Software (Online)

Support: Effective Response

Discount: >> Get The Best Discount Right Now <<

Recommended: Highly Recommended

Skill Level Required: All Levels

Refund: YES, 365 Days Money-Back Guarantee

Coupon Code: “DARTAI4” For $4 Off On FE

DART AI Review: Key Features

Create, Use & Sell Limitless High-Quality Backlinks

Backlinks For Websites, Blogs, Pages & Funnels

Backlinks For Videos & Social Media Profiles

Top Rankings On Google, Yahoo, Bing & YouTube

Get Limitless Targeted Free Buyer Traffic

50+ Top SEO Tools & 20+ YouTube Tools Included

In-built SEO Website Auditor App

Works In Multiple Languages

Works In Multiple Niches

Super Fast Website Indexing

Fully Automated — No Manual Work Needed

Easy 1-Click Automation

World Class Support

STOP All Of Your Monthly Fees

Create A Recurring Income Stream

Silly-low 1-time price

Anyone can do this!

FREE Commercial License for Early Adopters

365-Day Money Back Guarantee

DART AI Review: Who Does It Work?

You’re 3 steps away From Saving $1,000s & Potentially Making Up To $2,000 Per Day, Just Like Endless Freelancers And SEO & Digital Marketing Agency Owne

.

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DART AI Review: Can Do For You

Start making sales online, without needing the experience or tech skills to start

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Help business owners get more new paying customers and have them thank you for it

Possibly quit your 9 to 5 as you won’t be dependent on the paycheck every month

Get the respect and admiration of your family and friends

Have the freedom to do whatever you want — go on holiday, buy a new TV or a new car

Spend the time doing what you want, not what you have to earn a salary

DART AI Review: Verify User Feedback

DART AI Review: Who Should Use It?

Website Owners

eCommerce Store Owners

Bloggers

Freelancers

Small Business Owners

Agencies

Influencers

Content Creators

Translators

Advertisers

YouTubers

Podcasters

Marketers

Vloggers

Coaches

Authors

DART AI Review: OTO And Pricing

Front End Price: DART AI (Price: $17)

OTO1: DART AI Unlimited ($39)

OTO2: DART AI DFY ($197)

OTO3: Dart AI Automation ($39)

OTO4: DART AI 6 Figures ($197)

OTO5: DART AI Platinum ($39)

OTO6: DART AI Diamond ($49)

OTO7: DART AI Reseller ($197)

OTO8: DART AI Backlink Maker ($39)

OTO9: DART AI Link Cloaker ($29)

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DART AI Review: My Special Bonus Bundle

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DART AI Review: Free Bonuses

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DART AI Review: Money Back Guarantee

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DART AI Review: Conclusion

DART AI’s claims of instant results and “unlimited free buyer traffic” raise red flags regarding its legitimacy and potential use of unethical SEO practices. While the tool might offer a seemingly easy solution, the potential risks and lack of transparency outweigh the potential benefits. Investing in ethical and sustainable SEO practices, such as content creation, on-page optimization, and organic link building, is a more reliable and long-term approach to achieving sustainable online success. Before making any decisions, it’s crucial to conduct thorough research, understand the potential risks involved, and consider alternative

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Q. Do I need to pay a monthly fee?

NO. If you grab your copy during this initial launch period, you can pay once and use DART AI forever.

Q. Is a Commercial License included?

YES! We include a full Commercial License, which means that you can create sites not only for yourself but for your clients as well.

Q. What will be the price after the launch period?

We reserve the right to raise the price as high as we need to AND introduce a monthly fee.

Q. I’m not a techy person — can I use DART AI?

ABSOLUTELY! Everything is easy to use with 1-click. Plus we include video training on how to move around the member’s area.

Q. Will DART AI work on both PC and Mac?

Yes, it works on any device, including mobile.

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See my other reviews: InsightHub AI Review, Nova App Review, Anonymous AI Review, WebBookAI Studio Review, VoiceGenesis AI Review, Visionize Ai Review, Stealth AI Review, Mail Mate Review.

Thank for reading my DART AI Review till the end. Hope it will help you to make purchase decision perfectly.

Disclaimer: This DART AI review is for informational purposes only and does not constitute professional advice. Before making a purchase decision, we recommend conducting your own research and exploring the software.

Note: Yes, this is a paid software, however the one-time fee is $17 for lifetime.

[treeprince]

i do love being completely unadvertisable to the point of abstraction whenever i visit this webbed site but the juxtaposition of various lesbian/gay dating app ads vs "dont forget to sign up for medicare now that youre over 65!!!!" ads when ive barely scratched over a third of a century always tickles my funny bone just right

[adorekento]

Thinking about Nanami Kento who started eating pineapples because he read somewhere that says it makes your cum taste better.

Yes. That’s all it took. One article.

He swore by it like it was gospel. And he’s definitely the type to believe anything he sees on social media—he once showed you an AI-generated video of a cat breakdancing with the most serious face and asked, “How do they train them to do this?”

You love him. Truly.

But sometimes, your man is a little too earnest.

At first, you didn’t think much of it.

“Pineapples?” you asked, brows raised as you pushed the grocery cart down the aisle, glancing at him with suspicion. He nodded, stepping beside you to help push the cart toward the fruit section.

“I’ll eat it. Don’t worry.” he said with the most nonchalant tone.

You snorted. “Ken, you never eat pineapples. Don’t play with me.”

He shrugged casually, reaching out for a ripe one. “Just trying out new things, darling.”

You didn’t press. You just smiled and kept shopping.

But then it became a pattern.

He started slicing pineapples right after breakfast. Drinking pineapple juice after lunch. Eating pineapple rings straight from the fridge after dinner. You’d find him standing by the counter at night—shirtless, towel around his waist, wet hair from the shower—cutting up fresh chunks like it was his new religion.

“What’s gotten into you, Ken?” you asked one night, leaning against the doorway in one of his old shirts. “Is this part of some new diet?”

“Don’t mind me, dear..” he said smoothly, offering you a slice. “Want some?”

You declined, shook your head, and walked back to your shared bedroom.

Then came the requests—“Can you pack me some pineapple slices for lunch, love?”

“Could you make me a pineapple smoothie before I head out?”

“Do we still have those pineapple popsicles?”

Now you were suspicious.

And then... you understood.

“O-Oh... Ken!”

You gasped, your voice muffled as he held your hair tighter, his other hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion. He was on the couch, legs spread, breathing ragged as you took his cock deeper into your mouth.

His hips rolled up slowly, purposwfully, guiding you with control and need. “Yes... darling... mhm—just like that...” he groaned, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through your core.

You moaned softly around him, and he twitched against your tongue.

“Fuck... your mouth feels so good, baby.” he hissed, head falling back, golden brows furrowing in pleasure. “So pretty like this. So good for me.”

You hollowed your cheeks, slow and steady, letting your tongue trace every ridge and vein as his hips bucked slightly, losing composure.

His jaw clenched, brows drawn together, and his abs tensed under the golden glow of your bedroom lamp. He looked so perfect—hair damp, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in quiet awe as if you were divine.

Then his breath hitched. He cursed—low and deep—before he came, faster than usual. Hot, thick, with that slight tang you’d started noticing lately.

Your lashes fluttered, heart pounding as you stayed there, taking it all—tasting him, claiming him.

You closed your eyes for a second, letting your breath fan against his sensitive skin, before pulling off him slowly with a soft, wet pop. His chest rose and fell hard, like he’d just sprinted a marathon in your name.

Still catching his breath, He lookwd down at you, flushed. “is it… better?” he asked, a little hopeful, a little shy, like he’d just asked for validation on a science fair project.

You blinked up at him and raised a brow. “Mhm. It felt good, baby.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured, voice still thick with pleasure. But then, not too long.. “That’s all?”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean, Ken?”

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting away. “Well… I... read this article—it says if you eat pineapples regularly, it… um… makes your... release taste sweeter.”

You stared at him.

He cleared his throat. “So I’ve been… keeping track. Just curious if there's some change..”

You blinked again.

Then laughed. Loudly. Almost doubled over, laughing into his thigh.

“Oh, Ken.” you said through your grin, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “You’ve been training for that? You do know you don’t have to, right? Your cum already tastes good.”

He flushed. Actually flushed. “I just thought... maybe it’d be even better.”

“You’re ridiculous.” you giggled, crawling up his body and pressing kisses to his jaw. “And weird. But… weird in a sweet, earnest, completely MY boyfriend way.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Later that night, you found him watching a video titled “5 Signs Your Boyfriend Hates You”, his face set with that same intense seriousness. He nodded along, mentally ticking off the signs to make sure he wasn't doing them with you. You didn't even bother to say anything. You just grabbed his collar and kissed him, harder.

a/n: I'm writing some long ass shit plz WAIT (it's nanami 💋)

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[hurtspideyparker]

Part 3 of if Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together

Part 1 Part 2

-

Mission debrief:

Thor: Don't feel bad Banner, I mean is there anyone at this table who hasn't killed somebody?

Peter: *slowly raises hand*

Natasha: Don't worry you're still young

Peter: 😟

-

Steve: Has anyone seen my shield?

Clint: *points outside*

*Peter, Thor, and Bucky playing frisbee with it*

Steve: I guess I'm not saving those orphans today :/

-

Clint: Tony I said seedless watermelon, are you trying to kill me?

Tony: You're a big boy, you aren't gonna choke

Clint: No but it might... grow

Tony: Oh please don't tell me you still think watermelon seeds grow inside your stomach if you swallow them

Clint:

Pietro: Bro got a licence to kill but still has a Jack and the Beanstock level of education

-

2:34 am

Tony: *leaving Steve's bedroom*

Sam: *leaving Bucky's bedroom*

Tony:

Sam:

Tony: Let's never speak of this?

Sam: Yep.

-

Steve: Tony, you're the smartest person I know. You understand anything you set out to study, your passion is remarkable, innovation beyond anyone on the planet, and an incredible memory

Tony: Thank you thank you

Steve: So why do you STILL NOT CLOSE THE KITCHEN CABINETS

Tony: Uh

Steve: SOME OF US ARE TALL TONY. SOME OF US HAVE BRUISES ON THEIR FOREHEADS BECAUSE OF THIS NEGLIGENCE

-

Tony: Goodnight kid *tucks Peter into bed and kisses his forehead*

*Clint, Vision, Thor, and Dum-E waiting outside the room*

Tony: Oh come on. All of you?

*nodding*

Tony: Vision you don't even sleep. Dum-E I am not kissing you again you gave me chemical burns last time

Dum-E: *lowers head and whirs sadly*

-

Bucky: Don't sit so close to me

Sam: Why, cause I'm black 🤨

Bucky: No because you smell like ass sweat

Sam:

Sam: Why, cause I'm bl-

-

During training:

Natasha: *flips Steve and slams him onto his back*

Peter: Woah! I wanna know how to do that

Natasha: *flips Peter and slams him onto his back*

Natasha: Seems like you already know how

-

Tony: Okay Merida, you and me, darts for a hundred bucks. My suit vs. your freak self

Clint: I'll take that bet

*7 minutes later*

Tony: I have advanced AI targetting technology. SUPER. SUIT. How did I lose?!

Clint: It can do a lot of things Tony but at the end of the day it can't super suck this di-

-

Bucky: Sam's in medical so I'll do the mission debrief with you

Natasha: That was fast, I thought you'd still be coddling your boyfriend the rest of the day

Bucky: What. How do you know about us.

Natasha: I don't, it was a joke...

Bucky:

Natasha:

Bucky: Damn you really are good at interrogation

-

Bruce: I've taken up puzzles as a hobby. It's actually really relaxing

*Box is missing the last piece*

Bruce: *sighs, erases the 61 under the 'Days Without Hulk Incident' sign*

-

Natasha: Kings

Bucky: Go fish. Sevens?

Natasha: Nada. Fives?

Bucky: Shit. Here

Sam: I thought y'all were playing poker, are you for real playing Go Fish?

Natasha: Our pockets got cleaned out so we quit. The poker game is over by Steve

Peter: HAHA SUCK IT OLD MAN, AMERICA JUST WENT BANKRUPT *pulls giant pile of animal crackers to himself*

-

Steve: Do you want to play catch?

Wanda: What?

Steve: Um. Do you want to watch Hannah Montana?

Wanda: I don't even know what you're talking about

Steve: Maybe I could show you how to brush your teeth?

Wanda: Steve you're really scaring me

Steve: The article said to do it together! *shows phone*

Wanda: Are you getting parenting advice from wikihow? Did you even read it or were you just skimming the pictures

Steve: ...Well why'd they put toothbrushing in the photo if it wasn't a good bonding activity?

-

Sam: Why are your titties so bouncy man. Is it to deflect bullets?

Steve: What did you just say about my chest...

Sam: Hey I call em as I see em, and they're staring right at me.

-

Peter: Yo Mr. Stark wanna see a backflip?

Peter: Oh Cap come see my front handsprings

Peter: Natasha watch this aerial cartwheel!

Tony: Why did you tell him you were in the circus. Now that the idea's in his head all he does is jump around and cause noise complaints from downstairs

Clint: C'mon it's cute! He's talented

Bucky: I'm gonna tell him it doesn't count because he has superpowers and that he's a cheat

Tony: But that'll ruin his confidence

Bucky: God I hope so

[dollerinna]

WOULD YOU LIKE AN ALMOND JOY .ᐣ

( black noir x gn!crime analyst reader )

summary: after a long day of work, you try to unwind by watching your comfort show, but your solitude is interrupted by yet another visit from noir, who seems to be finding more and more excuses to spend time with you… (includes a C.AI bot as part 2 below!)

wordcount: 2k

tags: brief mention of NSFW pop-up ads, nerdy n’ socially awkward reader, noir’s disdain for almond joys but he makes up for it at the end <3

It had been a long day at the crime analytics office in Vought. As the sun began to set, exhaustion crept over you after reviewing incident report after report. Your eyes strained from the blue glare of your computer screen. You knew you had promised your boss you would organize the ever-growing database, but the tiny voice of procrastination was pleading for rest before your overworked brain turned into a pile of mush.

Rather than more paperwork—you, being the slacker of all slackers in this department, decided a well-deserved break was in order. And what better way to recharge than turning off the noggin and filling it with good ol’ fashioned mindless entertainment?

With a few tired clicks of your mouse, you booted up your go-to streaming site, which was none other than 123movies. Scrolling through the options, your cursor hovered over the play button of your favorite trashy drama. The kind of cheesy, perfectly predictable melodrama spun from the worst of amateur YA plots. It was practically comfort food for your fatigued mind, just what you needed to loosen up after the mental marathon that was this long day.

As the opening credits began to roll, your computer began to whir and hiss like an overtaxed engine, emitting gusts of unusually hot air from the vents. Suddenly, its screen slowed to a sluggish crawl, cluttered with a barrage of not-so-savory pop-up ads. Barely a minute in, the pixels already scrambled to form images better to left unseen—half naked women in risqué yet tacky mermaid-like attire, claiming they were ‘just around the corner and ready for a good aquatic fuck.’

First of all, what the absolute living hell is an “aquatic fuck”??

Did you even want to know? And most importantly, what happened to the ad blocker you installed just the other day? Judging by the contents, you had a sneaking suspicion that slimy, sea-dwelling degenerate, The Deep, had tampered with your computer… yet again.

“For the love of-… what’s with all these pop-up ads?” you muttered under your breath as excessively explicit ads crowded out the episode. Your eyes darted furtively around the room to check for wandering glances, hoping against hope that none of your coworkers had noticed the unwanted filth invading your screen. Heart pounding, you squeezed your chair closer to your monitor into a makeshift barricade, shielding the display as best you could while hastily clicking away at the intrusive ads.

As you hurriedly closed the remaining windows, an ominous shadow fell across the screen. Dreading what—or who—might be behind you, you slowly swiveled your chair around to find Black Noir's stoic stare boring into your own.

You stifled a yelp as you instinctively clutched the armrests, catching yourself on the edge of your seat before an ungainly spill to the floor. Noir had a way of materializing without warning, and it never failed to unnerve.

“N-Noir!” you managed, inwardly cringing as your voice broke on his name. “Fancy seeing you in these parts. I was just taking a quick break and y’know- stretching ‘em brain cells.” You tried for a lighthearted chuckle, but it emerged as more of a strained squeak that faded into an anxious hum.

With a jerky flurry of clicks and the browser minimized from view, whatever dignity you still retained disappearing along with it. All that did remain was you praying to the heavens above that he hadn't noticed its questionable contents (even if he most definitely had and simply chose not to comment)

When Noir offered no response, you of course charmingly barreled ahead in your frazzled daze. “But anyways, s-sorry about that… how uh, can I help you today?” your words tumbled out in a breathless rush, punctuated by a shrill laugh you hoped disguised the mortification simmering beneath.

Noir cocked his head, observing you with that same silent intensity. You fidgeted, hands twisting in knotted discomfort, the heat in your ears now engulfing your entire face. Was it the invasive pop-ups that had you squirming in your seat? Or the fact he could snuff out your existence faster than you can say “workers’ comp”?

Either way, beneath the weight of his stare, you already felt as if you were some peculiar, freakish creature pinned for study, rather than some bumbling employee just trying to unwind and watch their comfort show.

And to him, you indeed were a fascinating, bizarre little human.

Mercifully, Noir chose to extend a folder toward you, putting an end to your somewhat pathetic withering. You accepted it with a wordless nod, nearly sagging in your chair as tension drained from your shoulders.

Whirling towards the familiar clutter of your desk once more, you pretended absorption in the folder’s material, hoping this signaled Noir’s leave. After all, has anyone seen the state of you? It certainly wasn’t a flattering one. Yet from the corner of your eye, you detected no movement, no receding footsteps—his shadowy form remained statuesquely in place.

Believe it or not, this has been becoming a thing, a growing habit of late—and a suspicious one at that. Lately his breaks had grown longer, minutes lengthening to quarters of an hour, all spent hovering at your desk as you worked. However, his focus was solely on watching and observing you. He never exhibited a hint of thought or motive for his reason there, only leaving you with questions that seemed to multiply by each and every visit.

Noir, on the other hand, was somehow utterly convinced that you and him were two peas in a tightly-knit pod. He swore you two were best of buds for life—even if "life" so far had only amounted to the past two weeks' worth of half-hour stretches where he silently observed your work from the corner.

Ironically, you didn’t have the slightest inkling of how he really felt. Instead, you always assumed that he, like most supes, regarded you as little more than a puny mortal—a fragile, near-useless sack of flesh and bones whose skull he was one misstep away from caving in with bare hands.

But nope, Noir was simply here to bless you, the nerdy but cute crime analyst, with his presence—his rather… unsettling presence.

The familiar hush settled as you reluctantly returned focus to the task at hand. Hocus-pocus-focus, you chanted mentally, peeling away the last shreds of stray thoughts to tap into the zone of productivity. Unfurling the dossier Noir provided, you began sifting through documents for insight on his purpose in approaching you. Meanwhile, a flick of movement in the edge of your vision revealed Noir's attention veer off course, the almond joy perched beside your keyboard capturing his notice.

You tensed, hocus-pocus-focus breaking, all too aware of past disappearances of snacks in these briefings. Sure enough, his hand drifted noiselessly toward the candy bar, no doubt spurred by ingrained impulse to dispose of it per his usual custom. But you'd grown wise to his methods by now.

Not again, you sighed inwardly, snatching the almond joy and cradling it protectively as if it were your dear, beloved child.

Noir made no move to withdraw, palm outstretched expectantly. You frowned, struggling to keep frustration at bay. "Please, come on- not this time!.. It's my last one for the day." Brows pinching, your tone threatened to rise before steadying with a slow and calm inhale. No use losing composure over candy, no matter the principle. So all you could do was peer beseechingly at Noir in silent appeal, legs jittering restlessly under your desk in building apprehension.

Unfortunately, you found no signs of leniency in his obscured face—only his hand beckoning relentlessly for the almond joy. You plea was once again met with stony resolve, as if he was internally distressed by the mere presence of it. What was he? Deathly allergic to almond joys or something?

With a resigned breath, you delivered the almond joy towards Noir's waiting glove, unable to hide the disappointment dimming your features. Your lips curled into a slight pout, gaze sinking heavy into your lap at being parted from the treat. Though Noir was never one for words, it really didn’t take a rocket scientist to see you felt bullied into submission by his demands. At the end of the day, what power did a measly analyst like yourself hold against one of the Seven? As your fingers uncurled, releasing the candy into Noir's grasp, you couldn't help but feel a bit put upon, even if that wasn’t his intention at all.

Noir was well aware of the upset feelings his request had caused, so in an attempt to remedy the situation, his arm was sent in a backwards reach for the notepad he often used to communicate. However, he found himself at a loss as words eluded him, his thoughts swirling in frustrating circles of “What should I even say?”—muddled and incoherent. For a moment he stared at you, mask betraying no emotion as he grappled to find the right words, despite the prick of guilt nibbling at his conscience. Then, lacking any better option, he simply tossed the offending candy into the trash, perhaps with more force than intended.

Clearly, socializing was not Noir’s strong suit.

With no further acknowledgment, Noir spun on his heel and marched away. You watched his retreating, rigid form with discomfort clenching your insides, eyes falling onto the lonely candy discarded in the trash, its colorful wrapper mocking your current disheartened state.

Wearily, you turned away from the almond joy, redirecting your attention toward the computer as a means to divert your now soured mood. Maximizing the browser, you hoped that your planned show may have had time to load during the interaction. But upon inspecting the screen, you found the video remained stubbornly stalled, stuck on buffering dots and refusing to roll despite the minutes passed.

Just. Peachy.

One (super)human encounter had sucked the very life source out of your dog-tired body, and now this. It was really shaping up to be one of those days.

Thoroughly worn out, you gently laid your head down onto the desk, pillowing it against the crook of your folded arms as eyelids slid shut. All you craved was to simply sleep away the remaining time until you could finally escape this wretched shift and retreat to the sanctuary of your home sweet home.

─────────────────

As your shift wound down to its end, you were finally stirring from your slumber. Rubbing the sleep from your bleary eyes, your blurred vision sharpened to show your colleagues had long since departed while you were snoozing away.

Rising and squaring your shoulders, you began to gather your belongings in preparation to leave as well. Once you had collected everything and lifted to your feet, something in the far corner of your desk caught your eye. Approaching for a closer look in the dim lighting, the fuzzy outline gradually came into focus—a cluttered collection of Hershey's Kisses, their jumbled placement grouped to form the shape of a heart.

You blinked in bewilderment, rubbing your eyes once more to ensure you weren't imagining things. Stepping closer, you spotted a sticky note nestled within the heart of chocolates, scrawled upon in a crude, blocky hand. At first, you assumed it was some silly prank from one of your coworkers, but you knew you recognized the handwriting anywhere—it was Noir's.

Gingerly, you plucked the sticky note from the desk, lifting it to your line of sight to read the message. “Kisses taste better than almond joys…Sorry.” you read softly, your voice trailing off as confusion crept in.

Designed as a very apparent flirty gesture, the intent behind the note and chocolates still managed to whoosh straight over your head. As always seemed the case, even the most painfully obvious social cues could so easily evade your understanding—this proving no exception.

You slipped the sticky note into your pocket, then selected a foil-wrapped Kiss from the pile. Gently rolling the chocolate between your fingers, you unwrapped it and popped one into your mouth. You took time to savor its light cream filling beneath a smooth outer shell, face crinkling in thought and head tilting as you considered your verdict. “Eh… I’d beg to differ.” you mused with a shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you took your leave from the office.

-------☆-------

Pssst- likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

-------☆-------

a C.AI bot as your very own part 2 where you thank Noir the following day:

a/n: saw somewhere that kisses don’t contain nuts but then I also saw someone else say they actually do??? So let’s just pretend the kisses Noir chose are completely nut-free for the sake of the plot 😭

also, the reader is very much based off Anika if it wasn’t obvious enough haha! She’s so y/n coded 😤💗

♡ divider credits: @/ianrkives

[xxsabitoxx]

Virgin Giyu...

A/N: Between that AI pic of Giyu in a suit & Peach’s (@peachdues) The Great War coming soon, Giyu has been a lingering thought on my mind recently… also if it ain’t clear… smut >:)

Virgin Giyu, who’s trembling from a mix of excitement and anxiety as your fingers slowly undo the buttons of his uniform.

Virgin Giyu, who’s turning deep shades of crimson as you talk him through everything you’re doing to him.

Virgin Giyu, who’s breath is coming out in quiet pants as your fingers trail down the milky expanse of his chest. Feeling the way his heart is thrumming against his ribcage in anticipation.

Virgin Giyu, who’s never been shy about his body until he’s completely exposed before you. Quietly wondering if his body is enough, if you’re pleased by what you’re being presented with.

Virgin Giyu, who’s blush is seeping all the way down to his chest as you shower him in compliments, lips and tongue gliding along his warm skin… Goosebumps following in their wake.

Virgin Giyu, who’s gnawing at his bottom lip until it’s red and swollen, trying to keep any and every noise he makes hidden as you fall to your knees before him, quietly asking his permission.

Virgin Giyu, who’s getting overwhelmed but is too shy to say it, eyes darting from yours to try and find some sort of confidence and pray you don’t notice his building anxiety.

Virgin Giyu, who’s shivering as your hands run along his thighs in a soothing manner, promising that you can stop if he’s feeling too nervous to keep going. That his feelings are important.

Virgin Giyu, who’s building anxiety fades again from your reassurance, shaking his head at your offer to stop and quietly encouraging you to keep going. He wants this, badly.

Virgin Giyu, who can’t stop the noise that he makes when your hands gingerly wrap around the length of his cock. Feeling it hot and heavy under your fingers, twitching with need as pre leaks from his irritated and needed tip… begging to be touched further.

Virgin Giyu, who’s hand finds its way to your hair, gripping it tighter than he ever intended as your tongue licks a fat, wet stripe along the underside of his cock.

Virgin Giyu, who’s hips are jerking upwards against his will, thighs twitching as his breathing comes out in short, desperate pants. Hazy eyes focused on the way you take him into your mouth.

Virgin Giyu, who comes embarrassingly fast, spilling into your mouth with wide, water eyes and burning hot cheeks. Apologies spilling from his lips as you look a little caught of guard from his sudden and without warning release.

Virgin Giyu, who’s mouth is parted in shock as you pull off of him, swallowing his release before smiling sweetly up at him. Praise leaving your lips as you tell him how good of a boy he is for coming.

Virgin Giyu, who’s nearly out of breath as he assures you he still has enough in him for you to properly take his virginity.

Virgin Giyu, who’s… not a virgin anymore as you press his back against the sheets and sink yourself down on his cock :)

[vxnuslogy]

– jealous charms.

pairing: wise x gn!reader

premise: when jealous, wise had an interesting habit of trying to outdo whoever caught your attention. he needn't worry though, he'll still be your favorite forever.

– warnings: none

– author's note: another filler fic until i finish that one sunday fic that i've been marinating for 2 days now. | ~1.7k words.

“master, is it safe to conclude that you’re jealous of miss grace howards from belobog industries? you’ve been awfully engrossed in trying to replicate her creation for [name].”

a loud clatter echoed in the room as the pair of pliers in wise’s hand suddenly dropped to his work table. your head darts to wise’s hunched figure. his back was awfully straight and shoulders tensed as you raised an amused brow at him when he stood up from his seat and marched his way to fairy. muttering quiet curses as the bangboo on your lap tilted its head at him.

“is that why you’ve been glaring at her whenever we visit the construction site?” you questioned with a teasing tone. wise swiveled his head to your direction and narrowed his gentle eyes at you but you only let out an amused snort. he looked more like a wet cat than a big shot proxy with the way his cheeks burned red all the way to the tips of his ears. the color could probably rival the red tassel earring you gave him last year on chinese new years.

“firstly, i am not jealous–”

“i would beg to differ, master.”

“second!” wise turned to fairy, a hand to his hip while the other ran down his face, voice raising slightly as he tried to rid off the flustered tint on his cheeks. “if i were to be jealous of someone, it wouldn’t be grace.”

“will mister anton from belobog industries be the next candidate?” the ai quipped at him making the gray haired boy groan in frustration.

a laugh rippled from your chest as wise pouted and begrudgingly went back to his work station. but not before narrowing his eyes one last time at a glowing blue eyeball (?) that was fairy.

“aww wise it’s okay,” you gently place the bangboo down on the floor and make your way to wise. trying your hardest to take a peek at whatever he’s been working on. or at least get confirmation that he was actually making what you thought he was making. “everyone gets jealous sometimes.”

wise didn’t appreciate your teasing remark because he rolled his eyes at you and threw a piece of paper at your face. “seeing as though you’re not doing anything, do me a favor and pick up some more films for the store.”

it was your turn to pout. “jealousy doesn’t suit you at all, wise.”

with a sigh, you reluctantly left the room when he raised a brow at you with a smirk tugging at his lips. you hated how such a small quirk up of his lips melted all of your teasing. but then again, when it comes to anything related to wise you didn’t put up too much of a fight, no matter what it was.

– –

wise was not jealous. he repeatedly reminded himself of those words like a broken record. reciting it like a mantra in his head as he continued to bend and break the pieces of metal in front of him.

“master, now that the subject of your affection is gone, will you finally admit to being jealous?”

fairy’s words sent a shiver down his spine, silently thanking belle and you for going out to the arcade and prolonging your inevitable return even more. if either one of you heard fairy, he wouldn’t be able to live it down. a defeated sigh left his lips when he dropped his tools and buried his head in his arms.

“fairy, please just shut up.” wise’s voice was no more than a muffled plea as fairy continued to torment him.

“but all the data i’ve collected all share the same conclusion: you are jealous master.”

wise turned his head to their hdd system that glowed blue as fairy’s avatar floated. “okay so maybe i am a little jealous.” 

“but why, master?” wise felt an oncoming headache approach as fairy listed out the reason why he shouldn’t be jealous. “hollow raider [name] has made it clear on many occasions that they favor you the most. their sudden interest in miss grace howards cannot compare to their interest in you.”

wise knew that but it still didn’t feel right to him. with a groan he dropped his head back on the desk, his free hand coming to inspect the silver band he’s been working on for the past few weeks. “you’re making me feel stupid here, fairy.” an uncharacteristic pout graced his lips when he remembered how your eyes shined like bright diamonds when grace showed you her newest invention.

“it’ll help you in the hollows!” she had proudly proclaimed. and ever since that day, you’ve been wearing the bracelet that doubled as a tracker for both your health and your position to every mission you took on. wise felt the pricks of jealousy whenever you praised the older woman with a dazzling grin and an excited “it was very helpful!”

“i’m also helpful.” he muttered to no one in particular. 

“of course you are! you’re my proxy after all.”

wise felt his heart lurch out his chest as he hurried hid the band inside his hand when you appeared in the room. like a deer caught in headlights, he stiffly smiled at you. “w-when did you get back…?” he cooly asked, or at least he hoped it sounded cool enough for you to brush off whatever you heard.

with your hands behind your back, you stalked your way to his desk. “just a moment ago. belle is shelving all the new films now.” you lean in closer to wise’s space, trying for the second time to catch a glimpse at whatever it was he was working on. a tentative smile forming on your face when you ask him, “will you finally show me what you’re making? i won’t laugh, i promise.”

you certainly wouldn’t laugh, but you would tease him relentlessly. a final sigh escaped him as he leaned back on his seat and opened up the hand that hid his creation. “it’s… really nothing.” his voice was unusually timid when you walked over to his desk and took a peak. being in such close proximity with you has his poor heart and mind swimming. you wore perfume today and it was all wise could think about as you gingerly pick up the silver band.

“you need to give yourself more credit, wise.” 

this wasn’t good. if you continued to look at him like that he would surely melt into a puddle, and that would be incredibly embarrassing. a smile broke out from your face as you unclipped grace’s wristband and put wise’s creation on your wrist.

“does it have any functions?” wise has always enjoyed your curious nature. sure, it got you in trouble most of the time, but he found it incredibly endearing. he shook his head and opened up the closest drawer and pulled out a matching band several sizes smaller. “not any advanced ones, not yet at least.”

wise stood up from his seat and picked up the bangboo peacefully dozing off in one of the corners. taking its small arm gently, he slid the band over and glowed a soft white. the same thing happened to the one you wore and wise swore he felt his heart skip a few beats when you looked at him with big eyes filled with wonder.

“but it can accurately track your ether aptitude and send me an emergency message when you’re reaching your limit,” picking up the bangboo in his arms, wise made his way back to his desk and placed the little creature on it. “it’s still a work in progress, but i hope it’ll eventually be able to map out full hollows without much trouble.” 

your silence made wise nervous. you were never this quiet and he didn’t dare to look at you. that is until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his head and the scent of your perfume invading his senses. his breath started to quicken as you nuzzled your face into his hair, hands resting on his shoulders. wise felt his entire body tingle when your chuckle vibrated through his entire body and left a fuzzy feeling in his chest, a swarm of freed butterflies fluttering inside his stomach when you pulled away. warm hands holding both of his cheeks that were no doubt burning a bright red.

“did you make this for me?” wise didn’t like the way your eyes crinkled into amused crescents. “or did you just want to outstage miss grace?” he heard your laugh ring out when he turned his head to the side and murmured a soft maybe into your palm.

“god you’re so cute you know that?” a wide smile spread across your face as you smothered the boy into another hug. “don’t worry, no one could ever replace my proxy.”

wise wasn’t a physically affectionate person, not by a lot at least. but right now when he feels your laughter so close to his heart, he can’t help but wish to stay in your embrace. his arms slowly snaked to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, wanting to hug you like how your skin hugs the bones that make up your entirety. how lovely it must be to live inside your heart, to feel every beat pulsing through him as he listens to your heartbeat. slightly erratic but still calm, so unlike his that was beating so rapidly he feared it might escape his ribs and offer itself to you. 

“maybe i was a little jealous.” he didn’t know what urged him to say that but the laughter it stole from you made him smile like a fool. wise would stay jealous forever if you would hug him like this every time to assure him that he was still your favorite form of protection.

“thank you for always caring about me, wise.” there was such vulnerability in your voice that made wise tremble in your hold. all he could offer was a hum as he buried his head further into your chest making you chuckle. if only you knew the lengths he would go to just to keep you glued to his side, away from all harm and danger.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[mintyys-blog]

Could you do a cutesy scenario of main invincible, shiesty and maybe no goggles where someone purposefully feeds their s/o something they're allergic to, pretty please!!

HEADCANON | main mark, no goggles mark and shiesty mark when someone feeds their s/o something they are allergic to.

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: attempted murder, violence

Do not repost, translate, or rewrite my work, whether AI-generated or otherwise, without my permission. © @mintyys-blog

MAIN MARK

You hadn’t even noticed what was in the cupcake until your throat started to close. You coughed, wheezed, eyes watering as the taste of peanuts hit too late. Your fingers trembled, scrambling for your purse, but it wasn’t there. You left your EpiPen in Mark’s backpack…

The world blurred around the edges, and that’s when you heard it—the boom of someone landing hard.

Mark.

He was there in a flash, grabbing your face gently but firmly. “Hey—hey, stay with me, okay?” His hands were shaking, even though he was trying so hard to stay calm. “You’re gonna be okay.”

He jammed the EpiPen into your thigh with practiced precision, holding you through the worst of it.

Once your breathing slowed, his panic turned into fury. “Who gave you that?” His voice was low, trembling with anger.

Someone stammered an excuse about not knowing—but Mark’s eyes burned. He didn’t yell. He just stood there, protective arm around you, saying, “If I ever see you near her again, I won’t be this calm.”

SHIESTY MARK

You were only a few bites in before your body betrayed you—hives flared across your skin, and you gasped, clutching your throat. You looked for Mark.

He was already gone from the corner.

Then—

THUD.

He appeared behind you, catching your body before you hit the floor. “Shhh… got you. You’re alright,” he whispered, like it wasn’t taking everything in him to stay composed. His grip was firm, steady—too steady.

You winced as he injected the EpiPen, cradling your body against his chest. The second your breathing steadied, something changed.

He turned to the group of people still watching, and his expression was glacial.

“Which one of you did it?”

No one answered. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.

Then he saw the guy—the one smirking.

Mark handed you gently to a trembling girl nearby. “Hold her.”

He walked toward the guy.

And without a word, he grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed his face into the nearest table. Glass shattered. Blood sprayed. Screams erupted.

“You think I’m joking?” he hissed, crouching by the whimpering man. “You fed her peanuts on purpose. What kind of pathetic little creature does that?” His boot pressed down on his wrist until it cracked.

“You’re lucky she’s alive,” Mark said, eyes glowing faintly.

NO GOGGLES MARK

“Baaabe,” you whined, clutching your stomach with a scrunched nose, “I feel weird…”

Mark didn’t even look up from his phone at first, lounging in his usual too-big hoodie, one leg swinging off the countertop. “Pfft, what, you eat too many cookies again?” he teased, grinning. “Bet you snuck three. Four?”

You didn’t laugh.

You stumbled.

His brow furrowed as you started coughing, lips twitching in discomfort.

“Wait—hey, are you—”

Then you collapsed.

The joking vanished instantly. He caught you before your head hit the tile, arms locking tight around your twitching form.

“Wait—no, no, hey—what’s happening? What did you eat?” he asked, voice cracking as your eyes rolled back. His gaze darted around. “Shit. Shit!”

He reached behind his waistband, pulled out the EpiPen you’d made him carry, and stabbed it into your thigh like you were glass about to shatter. “Breathe, babe, please…”

Your body jolted. Then your breathing—slowly—started easing.

He held you like something sacred, his trembling hands brushing your hair back, eyes wide and haunted.

Then someone muttered behind him. A guy.

“Oh, come on. She’s fine. Drama queen was just milking it for attention—”

Something in Mark snapped.

He placed you down gently on a cushion, like porcelain. Stood up. Turned around. Just a crooked smile now stretched across his face. Unblinking eyes. “Was it you?” he asked, almost chipper. “You gave her the cupcake?”

The guy laughed awkwardly, clearly not realizing what was coming. “It’s not like I knew she was actually—”

CRACK.

The first hit shattered the guy’s nose. The second one sent him flying into the table, snapping it in two. “You think it’s funny?” Mark whispered, crouching by the bleeding figure. “You wanted to watch her choke? Wanted her to beg for air while you sat back and laughed?”

He yanked the guy’s face up by the hair, his voice low and grating. “Here’s the difference between me and her—I’m not a good person. She forgives. I don’t.”

Mark didn’t stop with a warning. He carved a lesson in bruises, snapped bones, and broken pride. Only when his fists were bloodied and the guy was begging for help did Mark finally speak again: “She’s breathing now,” he said, walking back to you. “You won’t be for long if I ever see you again.”

He lifted you into his arms with a strange gentleness, his shirt soaked with blood that wasn’t yours. “Let’s go home, babe,” he whispered against your hair. “You need rest. I’ll kill em later.”

[kirbysdreamlandd]

fanfic from the hot ones video when he’s showing around his house and then he accidentally walks in and readers asleep and martin’s filming like oh😅😅😅 whoops guys LMFAOAOA

࿔Hot Ones

Hamzah X Y/N (GN)

Fluff, SFW, Smooching, One-shot

“So, yeah. This is my lovely office.” Hamzah clasped his hands together and smiled at the camera, his voice full of mock pride.

Martin panned the shot, slowly revealing the full extent of the room. The cluttered desk, the half-filled water dispenser, the messy bed—but he suddenly stopped.

“Oh, and what is that?” Martin asked, shuffling closer to zoom in on the side of the bed.

Hamzah craned his neck to look over Martin’s shoulder, his face falling as the recorder’s screen framed a blue, square-shaped transparent wrapper sitting on the nightstand.

Instinctively Hamzah swung an arm out, shoving the camera away so hard it made a loud thud along with a slap on Martin’s hand.

“Ow, dude!” Martin whined, fumbling to keep hold of the camera as it nearly slipped from his grasp.

Hamzah’s face turned an alarming shade of red, his eyes refusing to meet Martin’s as he muttered, “Anyway, guys,” and quickly turned on his heel toward the gaming desk. “This is where I do a lot of my work.”

He kept his back to the camera, rambling about the standing desk and his computer, giving his cheeks a moment to return to their normal color.

“Guys, Hamzah was hiding—” Martin started, his teasing tone immediately ticking Hamzah off. “—a furry costume under the bed.” He finished, Hamzah’s widened stare stopping him in his tracks.

There was a beat of silence as Hamzah stared him down, his lips twitching as if he were trying to hold back a smile. Finally, he sighed dramatically and threw his hands up. “Alright, you got me,” he said, his tone suddenly over-the-top serious. “I guess the truth is out.”

Martin’s laughter escalated, and he zoomed in on Hamzah’s mock-defeated expression. “Yeah? What kind of furry are you, then?”

“A wolf, obviously.” Hamzah said, crossing his arms as he leaned against his desk. “Lead of the pack, they all follow me. It’s a lifestyle, not a choice.”

Martin nodded, the camera now drifting over to a collection of framed AI-generated art hung haphazardly on Hamzah’s wall.

-

“So, uh… is that it? Are we done with the tour?” Martin asked, raising a brow as Hamzah glanced around the room.

“Not yet!” Hamzah said, perking up as if struck by inspiration. “We still haven’t shown you the bedroom. Let’s go.”

The camera panned over the surprisingly clean room—a tidy desk in the corner, a mirror mounted neatly on the wall, and then…

“Oh!” Hamzah froze mid-step, his hand glued to the handle as his eyes landed on you, sprawled out on the bed. The blankets were tossed aside, and you were snuggled deep into his beloved Playboi Carti hoodie, the oversized fabric practically swallowing you as you slept peacefully.

Martin leaned behind Hamzah, while he lowered the camera. “Uh oh.” he whispered.

The creak of the door opening and Martin’s voice stirred you from your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open groggily, your head lifting just enough to see the doorway—and the unmistakable sight of Martin holding a camera.

“Martin—?” you mumbled, still half-asleep as you scrambled to sit up from the compromising sleeping position you were in.

Martin mouthed a “Sorry” as he exited the room while Hamzah walked over, now standing beside you by the bed. His posture was stiff, as if bracing for the worst.

“I’m so sorry,” Hamzah started, his voice unusually quiet, his eyes darting over your body nervously. “We were filming and… I forgot you were asleep here.” He tugged at his beanie, his eyes filled with a worried, apologetic expression.

You wiped the sleep from your eyes with the long sleeve of the hoodie, trying to collect yourself. “It’s fine” you muttered, still half-dazed, your voice raspy from sleep.

As your vision cleared, you noticed something odd. A slight tinge of red lingered in Hamzah’s pupils, and his lips seemed oddly swollen and glossy. You furrowed your brows, leaning in closer to get a better look, and then instinctively reached out, grabbing his face to level with yours.

“What the hell happened?” you asked, a little alarmed, your voice a mixture of concern and confusion.

“What?” he stammered, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. He wiped his lips quickly, but it only made it worse. “No, it’s—uh, I’m fine.”

You furrowed your brows even more, a growing sense of worry creeping into your chest. “Hamzah, you look sick. What’s going on? Do I need to call somebody?”

Your head turned, frantically scanning the room as your heart raced to find your cellphone. You were already reaching for it, about to call someone, when you felt Hamzah’s hands gently hold your wrist, pulling you back to his side.

With his face still in your hands, Hamzah couldn’t help but smile, a flutter of warmth filling his chest as he saw the genuine worry etched on your face. “It’s the spicy wings, babe.” he said softly, his voice slightly strained as he cleared his voice.

Your face relaxed as an exasperated sigh escaped your lips. You took in Hamzah’s face once more, the swelling on his lips and the unshakable calmness in his demeanor finally making sense.

“We were doing Hot Ones.” he said, his voice still carrying a bit of a raspy edge as you gently brushed an imaginary piece of dust from his face.

“That means you’ve got more suffering to go through?” you whined, your shoulders dropping with disappointment.

“Not as much suffering as you put me through.” he teased, an exaggerated sarcasm in his voice. “This is what I get for marrying my ball and chain.”

Before you could throw him the usual annoyed look, he grinned and leaned in closer. You didn’t even have time to protest before his lips pressed softly against yours. The slight swell of his lips was tender against your own. The saliva that had gathered in Hamzah’s mouth from the spicy food mixed with yours, making the exchange even more slippery.

“Tell me when you’re done swapping spit!” Martin’s voice rang from the other room, making you both instinctively pull away, trying to hide your smiles. “We’ve got more wings to try.”

Hamzah scoffed, amused, before using his hands—resting on either side of you—to push himself up.

He murmured a soft “Love you” before walking out of the room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. You sat on the bed, the quiet stillness surrounding you. The only thing left of Hamzah was the lingering scent of his cologne that clung to his black hoodie.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the moment. You felt a slight sting on your tongue, a reminder of Hamzah’s spicy kiss still lingering in your mouth.

A/N: yaaaaaallll this was written in 2 hours, I had such a writer block in the beginning (what’s new?) but it didn’t turn out as bad as i thought. Hope you enjoyed 💙

[writingunderneathawillow]

tequila's fault (bucky barnes x reader)

- a hangxiety episode during which bucky can barely meet your eye content warnings: hangover (+ implied drinking), emetophobia tw, mutual pining, angst, hurt/comfort, painkillers mentioned  word count: 2k a/n: i saw on tiktok that ai tends to use “-“ a lot so i just wanna make sure to say that it’s actually my thing :( i just don’t want people to think that this is written with ai :(

Your throat was as dry as sandpaper when you woke up, your tongue heavy with dehydration and regret.  The light hurt before you even open your eyes, so you decided to keep them closed a little longer, keep the embarrassment at bay for as long as possible before having to let yourself be confronted with the consequences of alcohol induced ideas.

Fatigue crawled through your entire body despite the ten hours of sleep – which, as you suddenly realised, hadn’t been fully uninterrupted.  Two hours after Bucky had managed to get you into your bed, with soft whispers and promises that he’d stay until you fell asleep, you had woken up in a cold sweat, strands of hair sticking to your forehead.  Within seconds you had still managed to dart for the ensuite, only somewhat registering the warmth of a body in your bed, before your stomach contents – mostly liquid – ended up in the toilet.  You don’t remember how you made it back to the bed, but you do recall two hands. One cold as ice and the other warm as… Bucky.  Holding back your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your back, apparently not bothered by the sweat soaking your shirt. Well, his shirt. 

Within the softness of your duvet, you feel a spark of bravery, just a tiny flame of it, which encouraged you to reach out to the other side of the bed. There you found a cool blanket, folded and draped neatly over your mattress.  A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you finally dared to open your eyes, dreading the disappointment that would surely crack your heart in hundreds of pieces once you took in the abandoned side of the bed. Bucky had never promised to be there when you woke up, but you had wished he would.  However, once your sight had adjusted to the brightness in your room, you had to come to terms with the fact that things rarely went the way you wanted. You didn’t mean to be ungrateful. Sure, you had a roof over your head, a stable job and a best friend that would die for you, even if you really didn’t want him to do any of the sorts. But your hunger for happiness wasn’t stilled. Best friend was not what you wanted to call him.  After a few more minutes of drowning in self-pity and misery, you found it within yourself to get up and at least fix yourself up a little. Before slipping out of bed, you registered the water bottle and a pack of painkillers resting on your nightstand, a post it note on it declaring: “drink up – b”. After following the simple instruction, you managed to rid yourself of your blanket and leave the sweet comfort of your bed.  Your bathroom window was opened and it smelt faintly of cleaning products – a theoretically lovely sentiment but it made you want to jump out of said window at the idea of Bucky cleaning up your mess.  For a few desperate seconds your fingers rested against the frame, wondering if you could escape through there instead of facing Bucky.  If he was even still there. Why were you so sure that he was?  You shook your head as if to get rid of the thoughts, regretting the movement instantly as it worsened your already pounding headache. Slowly, you grabbed your toothbrush, held it under water and then applied some toothpaste.  In your tiredness, you sat down on the edge of the bathtub and scrubbed your teeth until your gums hurt.  Only once you washed your face, you caught a proper glimpse of yourself and cringed a little. Deep undereye circles, ashy skin and a little bit of leftover makeup met you in the mirror, and to your surprise, one of your own shirts. Wrecking your brain to piece together the events of the last night in proper order, you distinctly remember Bucky pulling one of his shirts over your heated body before you went to bed (the first time). Then the bathroom incident. Then, a faint memory post throwing up, where Bucky – who had looked at you like a kicked puppy – exchanged your/his thoroughly sweated through shirt with a new one from your own supply. While nervously fumbling with its hem, you made your way into the kitchen. You heard him before you saw him. The soft shuffling of his feet over your floorboards, the squeak of your faucet and then the sound of him sinking into a chair. The smell of coffee made the world seem a little brighter, despite the lingering queasiness in your stomach, and you stepped in through the door.  “Morning.” Your voice was hoarse and came out quieter than you had intended but Bucky heard you nonetheless. You saw it in the way his shoulders tensed up and the slight cock of his head. Despite the motion, he didn’t look up at you as you passed him. Instead, he kept his eyes glued to his newspaper. “Morning,” he replied, intensely starring at the words in front of him. Your eyes lingered on him for a few seconds and a certain heaviness placed itself onto your chest. If there was one thing Bucky absolutely excelled in, it was eye contact. The lack of it put the fear of God in you, because now you were sure you must have truly upset him.  While figuring out a game plan to earn his forgiveness – whatever for, you weren’t sure – you brewed a cup of coffee and added a splash of milk. As you were attempting to come up with a way to break up the heavy quiet, Bucky cleared his throat and took the burden upon himself.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was different, thick with something you couldn’t quite place and weighed down as if talking to you was physically exhausting. The newspaper covered most of his face and you wished to rip it away from him. You looked at him, breathless despite doing nothing, before you caught yourself and replied: “Good.”

He hummed a noncommittal sound and moved on to the next page. The air was thick with things left unsaid, decisions regretted and you really wished you could remember whatever you had done to upset him. Your focus remained on Bucky, while you chewed on your lower lip in an attempt to soothe yourself.  After a few moments of silence, broken up by the occasional bristling of a page turning, you collected all the courage you had to offer and made your way to the breakfast table to sit opposite Bucky.

He didn’t look up but you still felt the way he tracked your movements, tension running through his shoulders as if he was on the battlefield and not in your kitchen.  The wood of your chair was cold against your bare legs as you sat down carefully, and you put down your cup. A quick glance betrayed Bucky’s attempt to not meet your eyes as he straightened up ever so slightly. He seemed like he was bracing himself, eyebrows furrowed, and fingers smashed against the paper.  “Buck?” You asked cautiously, letting his name glide from your tongue slowly.  Again, he replied with something less than an answer and more of a grunt. Your teeth found your lip again as you scraped together the last bit of bravery you had to offer to ask him the burning question.

“Why are you upset with me?”  If Bucky had been tense before, he was now seconds away from spontaneously combusting. You practically heard his teeth grind against each other and a soft sound tumbled from his throat before he could stop himself. “I’m- I’m not upset with you,” he murmured and you raised your eyebrows, even as he didn’t look up to take in your disbelieving expression.

“You seem upset,” you insisted and for a second you thought you heard Bucky wince. “I’m not upset with you,” he repeated, his voice strained and tight. “Then why won’t you look at me?” 

He lowered the newspaper and closed his eyes for a few seconds before meeting your gaze. Worry furrowed itself throughout his face, deepening the lines across his forehead as he regarded you nervously. “Doll, I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to do with his apology, so you stared at him expressionlessly.  “What?”

The look on his face turned from pleading to desperate.  “I’m really sorry for last night,” he continued, “I didn’t mean to… well, um, to do what I did.” “What do you… what? What do you mean?” Your confusion seemed to increase his worry, and he ran a hand over his face. “God, I… I knew how drunk you were but… now you can’t even remember it and that is so much worse. I’m really, really sorry,” he began to ramble, seemingly sinking deeper into his panic. “Well, Bucky, I’ll forgive you if you tell me what for,” you said, trying to keep your tone as light as possible and you sent him a soft smile.  That was apparently the tipping point for him as he stood up, chest heaving and eyes erratically darting over your face. You followed him upwards and walked around the table to reach out for him. 

“It’s okay, Buck, whatever you did, it’s fine. The apartment’s still standing so it can’t be that bad,” you declared, attempting to get him to lighten up. There were another thirty seconds of complete silence as Bucky stood before you and seemingly searched for words.  “I kissed you back.” The world in your head went quiet. Bucky had just turned on a vacuum and sucked in all thoughts that had occupied your brain.  A dumb smile twitched on your lips and the only words that left them were: “What?” “I kissed you back. Last night. I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Despite his refusal to meet your eyes, you saw the wetness on his waterline and the way shame burned a soft pink onto his cheeks.  He focused on the ground, fingers – both metal and flesh – nervously fumbling with the hem of his sweater.  He looked like a third grader after admitting to breaking his favourite toy, with his downturned gaze and flushed face, desperately looking for a way to turn back time in order to save what he held precious in his heart. “Oh, Bucky,” you murmured and took a step closer to him.  He recoiled, as if you had hit him and brought a few feet of distance between himself and you.  “I’m really, really sorry. I kissed you back and I shouldn’t have done that- I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that, it wasn-,” he rambled like a waterfall and shrunk into himself before your eyes. He wouldn’t have stopped talking, cursing himself out if you hadn’t walked over to him, leaving him no room to escape from you. “Bucky, listen,” you began, “It’s okay.”

Oh, it was more than okay to you.  “I might not remember it, to be honest I don’t even remember kissing you in the first place,” your words made him wince, but he finally looked up at you, “but it wasn’t a lapse of judgment or… a drunken mistake. I’ve wanted to kiss you for months.” His mouth was a little agape as he stood frozen in front of you, processing your words. Hoarsely, he replied: “You… what?” A small giggle broke forth from your lips as you reached out for him. “I’ve liked you for such a long time. But I wasn’t sure if you liked me back,” you elaborated and, finally, he reciprocated a small hopeful smile. “You… you did? Really?” Almost instantly, he relaxed as you nodded and placed your hands softly on his forearms. “Are you sure?” His question hung in the room and made you laugh.  “Yes, of course, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” “You threw up two hours after we kissed,” he murmured, cheeks even redder than before but a tiny smirk danced around his mouth. “Oh, Buck, I’m sorry. It was not because of that. That was the tequila’s fault, not yours.”

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[felibrary]

pairing: aventurine x reader | fluff with vv light angst (tbh its only kinda implied) | wc: 347

a/n: i had the urge, i felt the need, i wanted to use his real name. i love it. it makes him him.

“kakavasha!” you chant his name like a prayer, full of hope. you let out a loud sigh of relief upon seeing your boyfriend opening his eyes.  “finally you're awake, i was worried sick!”

your hands rested on his shoulders, pursing your lips as your eyes scan his face for any signs of discomfort.

huh. why did you look so perplexed? it hit him when he felt a cool droplet glide down his warm cheek. was he seriously tearing up right now? and why'd it feel like he was burning up, cold sweat was glistening on his skin and his head felt dizzy.

just what in the world was happening?

“thank god you're awake! i tried to shake you awake for the past five minutes now. because you kept whispering something about a grand death and kept moving uncomfortably.” your right hand reaches out to the lobe of his ear to play  with his turquoise peacock feather-like earring, tangling it around your fingers.

oh, so that's what it's all about.

“are you alright?” your eyes darted over his handsome face, skin almost as pale as porcelain and eyes alluring as ever.

“if something or someone is bothering you, let's talk about it. or resort to violence, i’ll kick their ass, whichever you prefer!” you lightly chuckle. 

“don't try to take the burden all upon yourself, okay?” , shooting him a look that says “i’m always here for you, don’t forget that - don’t forget me.”

upon hearing that he can only smile fondly. after all, he loves you and his family more than anything and anyone - even more than himself.

but perhaps, perhaps this wasn't the right time to tell you. at least not yet. the right time will eventually come - no it will come. he has everything planned out.

“don't worry. i’m fine, everything is and will continue to stay fine. trust me.” he reassures you before suddenly pulling you into a tight embrace, being pulled onto his lap as your head is buried into the crook of his neck.

“let’s stay like this for a bit longer. please.”

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[accioscarheadthings]

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 3

kenji sato x reader

summary: you learn all about the kaiju baby and the developments it has made, while spending time with kenji sato

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

warnings: none:), lots of fluff, reader and kenji being emi's parents

masterlist !

next morning, you were perched on a chair beside professor sato, yawning in fatigue.

kenji and professor sato made you stay the night at the mansion, providing you with a guest room.

you were up and early in the morning, eager to learn more about the kaiju baby at your disposal.

"come on. we have to stand up and measure you," professor sato spoke in a soothing voice.

"and analyze your entire genetic make up," mina added, hovering beside you.

but the baby kaiju still seemed doubtful of him, her beady curious eyes darting to you every so often.

"you guys are up already?" kenji stepped towards you, stopping at your side.

you spared a glance his way, giving him a sleepy wordless wave of greeting. you weren't one to get all cheerful and all in the morning. your brain had to flush out the exhaustion and drowsiness.

"kenji smiled back at you, offering you a cup of coffee, "thought you could use some,"

"oh, bless you. i can't thank you enough," you accepted it, sighing in bliss after taking your first sip.

kenji seemed pleased with your reaction, resting his elbows on the edge of your chair and standing behind you, his biceps bulging, "so, what are you doing?"

"we need to examine her so we can plan a training regimen to protect emi from protectors," professor sato said playfully at the kaiju baby.

kenji blinked, "emi? uh wait," he paused, "did you name her after mom?"

"i think she would approve,"

emi was still trilling in worry.

"okay emi," professor sato held up bunny in the hair, "now stand up nice and tall,"

emi got to her feet, slowly straightening up to her full height.

"my god," kenji deadpanned, "my dad's a kaiju whisperer,"

"good girl," i appreciated. emi's attention turned to you, letting out a happy squeal at your approval as her eyes brightened in excitement.

"ah well. looks like she's starting to like you," kenji stated.

"mina, please prepare to insert the microtracking device," professor sato instructed and the ai floated over, injecting as emi held out her hand.

"mina, treat please," professor sato took the donut when the ai handed it to him and held it out to the kaiju baby, "and before we eat, we say itadakiamsu,"

emi took the donut and munched on it, but few seconds later, her stomach let out a grumbling noise, and she looked like she was about to puke.

"professor sato, dr. y/n," mina addressed you both, "i believe that emi is experiencing a bit of nausea from the medicine.

you felt your chair being pulled backward and noticed it was kenji's doing.

"this never ends well," he stated as a matter of fact, "might wanna protect your coffee,"

i placed a hand over my cup, leaning back wearily as i let kenji drag me back.

"uh, dad, step away please," kenji waved at his father to get back when the professor didn't move,"

"oh she's fine," he brushed it off, "itdaki!-" the professor was knocked off his feet as he went flying backward, emi's puke hurling him to the wall at the far end, "-masu," he groaned, sliding to the floor.

kenji pursed his lips in amusement while you covered your mouth with your cup of coffee, letting out a laugh when emi trilled in joy.

you were jotting down everything kenji told you about emi's growth and development in these past few days, when emi leaped out of his hands and ran all around the room.

"get back here," kenji panted, "right now, missy!" he was in ultraman form, struggling to grab hold of emi, but the baby kaiju kept dodging him, running between his legs

emi squealed in delight, finding the entire situation entertaining.

you had put on your war suit to aid kenji; you couldn't grow in size like kenji but you had strange inhuman superstrength, much like kenji's alien genes.

you dodged a table emi had kicked your way, catching it and setting it down.

"here, baby. uh, c'mere," you had distracted her with a fish, handing it as a peace offering and got her to settle down.

emi sat on her butt in front of you, accepting the snack.

"that's my girl," you appreciated, caressing her leg as you leaned back on her.

after putting her to sleep, you headed to your guest room and took a long hot shower, easing your tired muscles.

you stepped out in nothing but a towel as wet strands of hair fell, framing your face.

you halted when you saw kenji sitting on the edge of your bed, wearing on his sweat as he had a towel slung on his shoulder.

"k-kenji," you stammered, placing a hand against the towel wrapped around your body, "w-what're you doing here?"

kenji's eyes widened at the sight of you, jaw going slack. he pursed his lips, taking a moment to reply, "it's been like thirty minutes and dad's hogging the water supply in my bathroom,"

his gaze followed a drop of water that dripped down your throat, following the dip of your collarbone and eventually into your cleavage, which was more prominent now because of your hand pressed against it.

kenji snapped his eyes away, feeling blood rush to his face, "s-so, um, i just wanted to use your shower. if you don't mind,"

"of course," you nodded, "go on. it's your house after all,"

"and it's your privacy after all," kenji stepped towards you, "i can't step all over it, can i?" he came to a stop in front of you, his gaze so sharp that they could burn the fluffy towel covering you.

you watched him in silence, contemplating his next move. he reached a hand forward and tucked a wet piece of strand behind your ear.

your skin tingled, goosebumps rising in your skin.

he brushed the back of his hand down your cheek, noticing the effect he had on you.

without another word, kenji stepped into the bathroom, grinning to himself, leaving you all bothered and flustered.

you were fixing your warbird suit in kenji's basement, having it haning in front of you.

seated on the table while your suit was held out in front of you.

emi who was watching her favourite rhymes about kaiju, ditched it and headed towards you, mesmerized by your suit.

you hadn't noticed her yet, too focused in the task in front of you.

it wasn't until she nudged your shoulder with her nail that you turned to her, "oh hi, emi baby," you greeted her kindly.

something about your voice captivated the kaiju baby and she stared at you in curiosity.

"uh, mina," you called the ai, it floated towards you, "why do i feel like emi's giving me heart eyes?"

"she is in a kind of way," mina spoke, "i suppose she can sense the feminine energy in you. naturally, her instincts would point her to the nearest-"

"-female," you completed, turning towards emi completely, "fascinating. didn't know her instincts were that sharp," you held out a hand for her and closed your eyes in uncertainty.

but emi surprised you by snuggling her giant beak into her palm, letting your hand slide over her big cheeks.

you snapped your head back to her, laughing in astonishment, "that's cute,"

emi let out a squeal, motioning her hands to you about something and you nodded, pretending to listen and just happy to be there.

that night, kenji came home to find you asleep on the floor with emi. the kaiju baby placed a hand over your body protectively (but it wouldn't touch you to not crush you under the weight of it).

mina had pulled up the baseball stadium stimulation and right now, you were in the middle of it with kenji and emi.

emi wanted to show you her batting skills that she learned from kenji, and you were more than intrigued to see a kaiju swing a baseball bat.

you stood beside kenji as he tossed the ball to an awaiting emi, "okay, girl. here comes the ball," he tossed it.

emi swung the bat with the right precision, sending the ball flying ahead.

"woaah!! that was amazing!" you dragged out the word, causing her to squeal out in contentment from her.

"yeah baby!" kenji pumped his fists into the air, "now, y/n, your turn,"

"what!" you defended, "hell no,"

"oh c'mon," he grinned, "emi would like to see you play too,"

"i can', and i won't, kenji sato," you stated firmly, crossing your arms.

"emi wants her mama to play too. isn't that right, emi?" kenji asked out loud.

emi trilled in reply, handing you a baseball bat to hold in an attempt to encourage you.

you stared down at it, "i don't know how to hold it,"

"i'll show you," kenji stood behind you, placing his hands over yours as he showed you how to swing the bat, his body covering yours.

you could feel his body heat radiate in waves, slowly engulfing you, "kenji..."

"yes, sweetheart?"

"w-what're you doing?"

his mouth pressed to your ears, grinning, "teaching you the basics,"

you nearly shivered, a tingle passing down your spine.

emi tossed the ball at you and you swung the bat with as much force as you could (with kenji's help too, of course). the ball went searing through the air and out of you.

"whooo!!" kenji appeared in front of you, jumping on his toes in excitement, "yeah!! that was great, y/n,"

his fingers caught yours, "now c'mon, we gotta run the bases," he pulled you after him, running down the path.

you ran after him, your hair blowing back and letting little laughs escape your lips. kenji chuckled at you over his shoulder.

emi chased after you and kenji, hands stretched in front of her as her face was pulled in a giggle while mina floated along cheering.

you and kenji jumped into the spot after finishing your laps, and emi followed your actions, hopping up and down with you both, sending sand flying in all directions.

everynight, professor sato would read the legendary ultraman stories to you, kenji, and emi, re-enacting them with hand motions.

you would lean back on emi's leg, while the baby kaiju rested its hand nail on your palm for you to hold.

kenji would glance and his heart would skip a beat at the sight every time.

step by step, you and the professor trained emi to defend herself using holographs; from drones, missiles, or from another kaiju.

emi made satisfactory progress as time went on, and you jotted it down, discussing the results with the professor.

while kenji was having a bad streak at his baseball matches, he was slowly climbing his way up, able to keep up with everything due to the help he got from you and his father.

the critics were finally favouring his side and showering him with praises and honors.

you, emi, and professor sato would sit together and watch kenji's matches together, cheering and hollering like fools.

the night the giants made it into the playoffs, kenji came home with a wide smile and you all celebrated his accomplishment.

kenji embraced you, lifting you off your feet for a moment before placing you back down.

you all were fast asleep in the basement, emi snuggled against you when your watch beeped once.

groggily, you peeked at it, sitting bolt right up from the incoming call.

"agent," the captain of kdf spoke into the phone when you answered it.

"yes sir," you nodded, conversing with him as he asked the needed questions.

you spared a glance at the others over your shoulder to make sure that they weren't eavesdropping, "nothing to worry sir, i have it all under control,"

TAGLIST !

@earth-to-mee @sassy-cat-in-town @breaddippedinorangejuice @nuhteyam @gameboigyu @byunpum @jennypenny-19 @doublebunv @moonjellyfishie @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @reivelmin @seyoran @warlike-morning @crimson-mage-02 @b3e-sat0 @miffysoo @t4naiis @lovingyeet  @imsimping4life @mmeerraa @btszn @jusmango-shak @yobriisstuff @goldenpoison @fruchtgeschmack @iateurdad16 @bandolls

[cece693]

mmmore personal bodyguard.. OHhh i love this old man!!! ohh i love tony stark please.. would you make more of male reader and Tony..

I also love that old man. So, I was thinking of what else can he and his hunky bodyguard get up to and then DING! What if the bodyguard takes his job so seriously that he takes a hit meant for Tony and we get an overprotective Iron Man?

Personal Bodyguard Pt. 2

pairing: tony stark x male reader tags: overprotective Tony, Tony has feelings, reader is over it, he was a military man for fucks sake, my man be stressin, reader is set to prove a point, fluff

You stir awake in the gleaming medical bay of Stark Tower, blinking under the fluorescent lights. The drug-induced fog makes your thoughts sluggish, but the unmistakable sting in your shoulder reminds you exactly why you’re here. You shift against the pillows, wincing at the dull throb of pain.

Across the room, a small army of medical personnel are quietly conferring, flipping through charts and checking vitals. You hear the beep of machines and soft murmurs. It’s overwhelming, and you’re not the only one who thinks so. “Everyone out,” comes a familiar, commanding voice. “Now.”

Tony stands at the entrance, hair mussed, tie undone, brow etched with anger and worry. His voice cuts like a knife through the room. The doctors and nurses exchange glances, but none dare contradict him. They file out in a subdued rush—some clearly concerned, but none wanting to challenge Tony Stark when he’s in this mood.

“And before anyone complains,” he adds, glowering, “I’ve got the best AI in the world monitoring him, so scram.”

Moments later, the door slides shut with a quiet hiss. The only sound left is the steady pulse of the heart monitor by your bed and the faint hum of the Tower’s ventilation system. Tony crosses the room in long strides, practically radiating anxiety. He stops at your bedside, eyes darting from the bandages on your shoulder to your face, to the monitors, and back again. It’s like he can’t decide what to focus on—he just wants everything to be okay.

“Are you comfortable?” he demands, reaching to adjust your pillows. “Do you need a different angle? More medication? Less medication? You look like you’re in pain. You should’ve said something—didn’t the doctors tell you to—?”

A weak smile tugs at your lips. “Tony, breathe. I’m all right.” But he’s not listening. He keeps fiddling with the bed’s controls, trying to find the perfect angle, cursing under his breath when the motor jerks your injured shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling back like he’s burned. “God, I’m screwing this up.”

“Hey,” you say, voice soft, “it’s fine. Really.”

He sighs, frustration etched across his features. “It’s not fine. If it were fine, you wouldn’t be in a hospital bed with a bullet wound.” His hands ball into fists at his sides. “I’ve been over the security tapes a hundred times, trying to figure out how I could’ve—how we could’ve—prevented this.”

The chair next to you squeaks as Tony sinks into it, his exhaustion evident. He rubs a hand over his face, and you see the shadows under his eyes. You suspect he hasn’t slept since the incident. “I can’t—” Tony starts, then stops, words hitching in his throat. “I can’t just sit here and watch you get hurt because of me.”

You let out a careful sigh. Even that small motion makes the pain spike. “Tony,” you say, voice steady despite the discomfort, “it’s not your fault.”

He makes a strangled noise and gestures to your injured shoulder. “Yeah, ’cause getting shot while protecting me is totally just a random coincidence.” He’s spiraling—has been, ever since the bullet meant for him hit you instead. You try to catch his eye, but he’s jittery, like a live wire about to spark.

“Look,” Tony says, voice cracking, “maybe you—maybe you should go. Quit. Or—or I should fire you. I’ll give you a severance package that’ll make CEOs weep with envy. You can do literally anything else. Anything safer.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Fire me?” There’s a stab of hurt under the shock, but you force yourself to stay calm. “That’s one hell of a ‘thank you for taking a bullet for me.’”

He flinches at your words, but his gaze hardens—a brittle, desperate resolve. “If it means you never have to bleed for me again, then yeah. I’ll do it.”

A flurry of emotions churns in your gut—annoyance, exasperation, and a surprising surge of affection for the panicked man in front of you. You carefully push yourself upright, ignoring the twinge of pain, and pin Tony with a firm look. “You can’t do this.”

“Fire you?” He scoffs, but the sound comes out choked. “I can do anything I want, remember? Billionaire with an army of lawyers.” A shaky hand runs through his hair again. “I could relocate you to—oh, I don’t know—Switzerland. Buy you a nice chalet in the Alps or something. You’d never have to see a bullet in your life.”

You can’t stop the small, exasperated laugh that escapes you. “A chalet in the Alps. Fancy. I’ll keep that in mind for retirement.” You pause, letting the joking tone fade. “But until then, no deal.”

He looks incredulous. “Why not?” he demands, voice cracking again. “Why on Earth would you want to keep doing this?” His eyes flick to the bandages peeking from your hospital gown, as if they’re the most damning evidence in the world.

You tilt your head, the ghost of a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Because you hired me to protect you, genius,” you say, letting a bit of humor slip in. “I got shot, yeah, but guess what? You didn’t. Mission accomplished.”

He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “I’m sorry—what part of you being shot is an accomplishment?!”

“The part where the bullet didn’t go through you.” You soften your tone. “Look, Tony, I know you hate that this happened. But injuries are part of the job, and I accepted that risk the moment I signed on.”

He slumps forward, elbows braced on his knees, face buried in his hands. “Well, I didn’t sign on for this.”

You reach out with your good arm and place a hand on his forearm. “Tony, look at me,” you coax. Slowly, he drags his hands away from his face, eyes red-rimmed. “This injury isn’t as bad as it looks. I’ve had worse in basic training.” (A slight exaggeration, but hey, you’d say anything to calm him right now.)

Tony tries to scoff, but it comes out more like a choked laugh. “Basic training had bullet wounds?”

You shrug with your good shoulder. “Not me, specifically, but some guys I knew.” You press on before he can argue. “Point is, I’m okay. Sore, but okay. So, you’re not firing me.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you fix him with a look. The “don’t even try it” kind that makes even a billionaire genius back down.

“Let me make this clear,” you continue, voice gentler now but unyielding. “I appreciate the concern, really. It means a lot that you care about what happens to me. But this is my choice. I’m not walking away, and you sure as hell aren’t pushing me away. If we keep doing this dance, the only thing you’ll accomplish is driving yourself crazy—and me right along with you.”

He sucks in a breath, eyes glimmering with fresh tears, though he blinks them back rapidly. “I just…I don’t want to see you hurt again. Ever.”

Your lips curl into a small smile. “That’s not how this works, Tony. If I’m with you, there’s always a risk. You’re Iron Man, for crying out loud. Trouble follows you like a lost puppy.”

A strangled half-laugh, half-sob escapes Tony. He scrubs at his face again, clearly embarrassed by his own display of emotion. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, still not meeting your gaze. “I’m…I’m a wreck.”

You inhale, letting your fingers drift from his arm to his hand, lacing them together. “Yeah, you are,” you agree, tone gentle but with a fond edge. “And that’s okay. But you don’t get to fire me. I’m tougher than I look, Stark.”

He starts to argue, but you give his hand a firm squeeze. “Seriously,” you insist, making sure he hears every word. “I’ve been thrown out of planes, shot at, and gone through obstacle courses that make grown men cry. A little bullet in my shoulder? Not enough to scare me away from you.”

A hint of incredulity flashes in his eyes. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“I do,” you say, jaw set. Before he can argue further, you shift your legs off the bed. Pain flares through your shoulder, but you grit your teeth and push yourself upright. Tony bolts to his feet like you’ve just threatened to jump off a cliff.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demands, voice shrill with alarm. “Hey—easy, easy!”

You wave off his concern. “I’m standing,” you say through clenched teeth, mustering a cocky smirk despite the pain. “You need proof I’m still in one piece? Well, here it is.” Tony’s eyes dart from your unsteady legs to your bandaged shoulder. He looks ready to catch you at any second. But you square your stance, heart pounding, determined to show him you’re stronger than he thinks.

He reaches out, as if to gently guide you back onto the bed, but you seize the moment. Sliding an arm around his waist—ignoring the painful protest in your shoulder—you pull Tony close. Then you press your lips to his in a firm, grounding kiss.

It’s not the smoothest kiss—your balance is off, and you’re pretty sure you’re leaning on him more than intended. But Tony’s body goes stiff for a split second before he melts against you with a quiet, desperate sound at the back of his throat. For those few seconds, the throbbing in your shoulder blurs into the background. All that matters is Tony’s warmth, the faint scent of cologne, and the taste of desperation on his lips.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless. One of his hands is splayed across your lower back, the other hovering near your bandage as though he’s too scared to touch it. “You idiot,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours. “You should be resting.”

“Probably,” you admit, wincing slightly as you shift your arm. “But you needed to see I’m still here. Really here.”

He draws in a ragged breath, eyes flicking over your face. “I see you,” he murmurs, voice tight with lingering fear. “But if you pass out, I’m going to strap you to that bed myself, understand?”

You huff a faint laugh. “Sounds kinky.”

A brief spark of amusement flashes in his eyes, followed by relief. “God, I hate you,” he jokes, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t ever do that again.”

You card your fingers through his hair, feeling how tense he still is. “Can’t make promises, boss. Besides…” You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “I’d do it all over again if it meant keeping you safe.”

He exhales shakily, and the hand on your back tightens. “You’re insane.”

“Probably,” you concede. “But you love me anyway.”

A hesitant, watery smile curves across his lips. “Yeah,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “I really do.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Okay so for that part 2...

SO IMAGINE-

You're finally reunited with your husband, albeit not under the circumstances that you imagined... you're in Hell, and he seems to be different from how you remember him...

But he's still your husband and you love him for who he is, not for how you remember him. At least that's what you keep telling yourself the more you find out about him.

Alastor seems indifferent or even entertained by your internal struggle, his eyes always seem to dart towards you whenever he does something particularly monstrous. You can feel his glee at the sight of your realization that your husband definitely belonged down here.

But part of you, a sick part of you, was excited to see Alastor so happy. There was a genuineness to it that you didn't get to see often when you two were alive. You adapted to him and Hell much quicker than he had anticipated.

He had actually thought you would try to go back to Heaven, a small part of him hoping that you would... (only because you're a distraction for him!! Not at all because he worries about you!!)

Whenever he's has some gore left on him that he missed you're there to wipe it off, only grimacing slightly before smiling at him in a way that makes his heart flutter and his own smile become more genuine.

Or you'll recognize signs that he's stressed out or overwhelmed, turning on the radio for him and bringing him something hot to drink while insisting that he relax. Sometimes, you will stroke his hair while marveling at his ears in a way that he finds endearing.

Or you'll cook for him like you used to, doing your best to recreate old recipes and bringing meals to him when he's working in his radio tower. Every bit the wife he remembers you to be...

But it's dangerous to slip back into old mindsets, to allow himself to be the husband you deserve even if the idea is tempting for some odd reason. Even worse if the public found out he had a teeny tiny soft spot for his angelic wife that was now in Hell.

So he does what he can to keep you at a distance until it fails, finding himself drawn towards you like a magnet and thinking of you much too often.

Alastor steps away for just a moment and comes back to find someone flirting with you? Instead of leaving you to deal with it yourself, Alastor ends up intervening and chasing them away because you're HIS wife.

You leave the hotel by yourself for whatever reason? Alastor is spending the entire day roaming the streets looking for you only to find you on your way back to the hotel and happy to see him. The relief he feels curdling is his stomach as he realizes he was worried about you for unselfish reasons.

The tipping point comes when you run into Valentino, the overlord circling you like a predator while cooing about how lovely you are. Trying to tempt you with coming a star then switching to threatening you if you tell him no before going back to trying to charm you.

Alastor steps in just before Valentino's tongue comes out, dripping bright pink saliva on the ground as he suddenly grabs your wrist. It's a tense and close call but Alastor manages to save you and the situation with grace.

Alastor finally decides that he has to do something to get rid of you but can't bring himself to hurt you no matter how easy it would be...

He finds his solution when you meet Lucifer, he immediately recognizes you as not a sinner and you two get to talking. It's a quick friendship for you two and Lucifer seems to worry about you being in Hell. He offers to try and send you back where you belong but you deny is offer.

"I worked too hard to find Alastor just leave him, for me....Heaven is where my husband is! We love each other after all."

The words rattle around in Alastor's head for a while, your unwillingness to leave him and Lucifer's offer to get you out of Hell. The cogs of his mind whirling into action as he realizes what he has to do.

He just needs to work up the courage to let you go.

Tag List:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @aiyalogy @uniquecutie-puffs @evanthelibra @sassy-persona

I WAS GONNA MAKE HIM SAY SOME MEAN SHIT TO MAKE HER WANT TO LEAVE OR HAVE ALASTOR SET SOMETHING UP TO FORCE HER TO LEAVE BEFORE CHANGING HIS MIND ONLY FOR HER TO FIND OUT AND FEEL BETRAYED BUT I COULDN'T DECIDE

[revelboo]

rrevel might i trouble you for a part two for the decepticon grunt harem?? It’s actually a great idea- i’m tempted to try writing something with that prompt too lol

Sure! And go for it, the poor Vehicons need more love

Coin-Operated Boy Pt 2

Vehicons x Reader

• Head tipping to watch you edge closer, it’s tensed and you wait for it to lunge and grab you. But it lets you get within range and then dart for the stairs. When you look back, it’s not moved, that flickering visor fixed on you. “When you’re ready to leave, that same button lifts the door,” you say even though you have no idea if it can understand you. Or what it is. Some kind of advanced AI? For all you know, it’s real life Ultron plotting to pancake you with a meteor. It shifts a leg and makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a groan, that faintly luminous stuff it’s leaking running in rivulets from its injuries. And you hesitate.

• You’re still lingering as he gingerly touches his wounds, his self repair system sluggish from lack of energon. Trying to seal the leaks in his lines, but failing. And you tip your little face skyward like you’re praying to your deities before you walk back down the stairs even though you’re clearly afraid of him. Alert as you head to a bench along the far wall and rustle around until you find a roll of bright pink stuff. “I’m not a mechanic, but duct tape is great for a lot of stuff. Maybe even stopping leaks?” Let you help or bleed out? And why do you even want to help? In his experience, kindness is usually a ploy to get something.

• It’s staring at you, before it slowly holds out an arm. Breath shuddering out of you when you move closer, you’re unnerved by the size of it. Even bent over and curled in on itself to fit in the garage, it’s huge. Head tilting to watch when you pull a small piece of tape loose and then tear it with your teeth. Your fingers are small enough to get into the gaps and get at the leaking lines. Hoping whatever this stuff is, that it’s not corrosive. It doesn’t melt your skin off when you touch it, just feels warm and slick. Slowly taping the tear until it stops leaking before you look up at it and it shows you the next wound. “Steve,” it growls and you flinch.

• “Is that your name?” You ask and your voice is soft. Gentle. Little face upturned to offer him an uncertain smile before you tend to the next tear with your ‘duct’ tape. Has anyone ever actually been kind to him? As far back as he can remember he’s been following orders. Being yelled at. Sometimes thrown or hit for things that aren’t even his fault. And he’s not sure that he can trust your kindness. You must be after something. But your soft voice is soothing as you tell him your name and talk him through each tear as you mend them as best you can. Wants to believe that your soft hands aren’t going to harm him, that your sweet voice isn’t a trap. He’s just so tired.

• “Why?” He asks and it takes a moment to realize he’s asking why you’re helping him. Like you need to have a reason. And sure, every survival instinct you had was screaming at you not to help him, but you’d done it anyway. Still are. Because you’re too soft, know it and are used to people taking advantage and walking all over you. And you just can’t stop reaching out anyway no matter how many times you get hurt.

• “Because you needed help,” you say, those gentle hands taping a line tear in his side. Like it’s that simple. He’d needed you and you’d reached out wanting and expecting nothing in return. Has no idea how to respond to this. What to say. Leaning slowly forward until his helm touches your head, soft hair brushes against him when you freeze. Visor flickering when you slowly reach up a hand to lay on his masked face. “You’re okay.” How do you know exactly what he needs?

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[rowdyluv]

𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 ʲʰ⁸⁶

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: cherry and bubba give their momma the scare of her life in the middle of prudential on a game day. who else but Jack to be the one to find them?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: missing kids, panicked mom, not much of a x reader, filler/starter

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ^ as said this is more of a starter piece for the au. also please remember that this 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐢𝐜𝐞 @capquinn @star2fishmeg @crumpledcat @bewaryofpity (we miss aimes in this house she’s still mentioned because she started this!! the og bug is also alluded too in this 🥺)

© property of rowdyluv ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. - do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Y/n had brought her twins, Cherry and Bubba, to the bustling Prudential Center for an exciting afternoon. They had just settled into one of the quieter staff areas, a brief respite from the chaos outside. The air had the smell of fresh popcorn and the distant murmur of eager fans filtering through the walls. The twins' eyes sparkled with excitement as they took in their surroundings, they definitely fit right in with their tiny devils jerseys on. Bubba sporting a ‘hat’ hat, while Cherry bad the cutest bows in her hair.

“You two sit right here and play, okay?” Y/n directed her two year olds handing them their favorite plushies before turning her attention towards her camera.

Her eyes narrowed as she fiddled with the camera lens, her mind racing through the shots she could have missed because of the foggy filter. Its the first home game with her new job as the media director of the New Jersey Devils. The nerves she felt about potentially messing it all up were astronomical. She was so self asorbed in her thoughts and changing her lens she hadnt notice the silence that had taken over the room.

Her head whipped around to face where she had sat the twins down.

Empty.

No Cherry.

No Bubba.

Her heart skipped a beat, the room spinning as panic set in. The plushies lie discarded on the floor, as if the twins had been whisked away by a gust of wind.

"Cherry? Bubba?" she called out, her voice echoing in the empty space. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant thud of a door slamming shut somewhere in the haze of corridors outside. The color drained from her face as she scanned the room, desperation clawing at her chest. She knew Prudential Center was vast and filled with thousands of fans, but she never thought she'd have to navigate its labyrinth in a heart-stopping search for her babies.

Her eyes darted to the door as a security guard ambled by. "Oh, thank God," she gasped, sprinting towards him. The guard, an older, burly man with a kind smile, looked surprised but immediately stood erect and alert as she reached him, panting. "I-I can't find my twins. They were just here. A little girl with two ponytails and bows and a little boy in one of the team ‘hat’ hats. Both wearing the black jersey. They..They’re only two! They don’t usually wander off…"

The guard's smile faded, replaced by a stern expression. "Ma'am, please calm down. We'll find them," he reassured her, his radio crackling to life as he called in the missing children. "What's your name and the kids' names?"

“My name is Y/n, and I call my babies by their nicknames. My babygirl is Cherry and my babyboy is Bubba or Bubs.” She went on to tell him their legal names as well, but asked that his team approach them by their nicknames.

The security guard , who wore a name badge labeled ‘Mike’ nodded, scribbled the information down on his notepad, and spoke into his radio. "All guards please be on the look out. Two missing children. Toddlers, twins, a girl and a boy. Last seen down in the media room, both wearing New Jersey Devils jerseys..." The message was met with a series of acknowledgments as the search began to unfold across the sprawling complex. “Ms. Y/n, you and I will linger closer to the media staff room that way if they wander back we will see them.”

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest that she feared it might drown out any distant cries from her babies. She felt like she was moving through a fog, the corridors stretching out before her like a never-ending nightmare. She tried to keep her voice steady as she called out their names, her eyes scanning every corner and crevice for a glimpse of their tiny figures. Her mind raced with fearful questions, regretful questions: why did I dress them in black? Why did I turn my back? Why had they left? Were they lost? Had someone taken them?

Mike, kept up a calm and reassuring demeanor. He led her through the back hallways, checking in with other staff members and security personnel as they walked around the surrounding area. Mike opening different rooms and checking while Y/n stayed out in the open hall. Y/n felt the weight of every second ticking by, each one heavier than the last. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears, blurring her vision as they moved from room to room. “I thought we were staying near the staff room?” She asked more to herself, not outwardly to Mike for answer. He was doing his job, and for her.

His radio spit to life once again and they both halted, awaiting any news.

“Sir, I have the twins.” A sweet young woman’s voice cracks through Mike’s radio. “They won’t leave Mr. Hughes, so all four if us will meet you in the staff room.”

Relief flooded through Y/n’s body so suddenly it felt like she might collapse. Her knees buckled in a sense of relief, her babies were found. But who did she say? She clutched the guard’s arm. Many of the same questions still ran through her mind. Why?

They rushed down the corridor, the sound of laughter growing louder, more distinct. Finally, they arrived at the staff room, where the young woman on the radio was waiting. She looked flustered but had a gentle smile on her face. "They're in here," she said, pointing to the open doorway.

Y/n pushed past her, heart in her throat, and there they were: Cherry, her cheeks flushed with excitement, giggling as she tried to climb onto Jack Hughes' broad shoulders, and Bubba, clutching Jack's hand with a wide grin that revealed his tiny baby teeth. The star player looked a bit bewildered but was clearly enjoying the twins' attention.

Y/n was blinded by pure joy her babies were safe that she wrapped Jack in a hug. A million thank yous falling from her lips.

Jack, taken aback by the sudden embrace, felt a warmth spread through him. He hadn’t expected this reaction from the usually composed Y/n, but he couldn’t deny the way her desperation and gratitude made his chest tighten.

“No biggy. I think its safe to say little bit here likes me.” He chuckles nodding his head at cherry who has successfully made it on to his shoulders.

Y/n can't help but laugh nervously as she gently takes cherry from his shoulders and holds her close. "How did you find them?"

Jack's eyes twinkle as he recounts the bizarre encounter. "Well, I walked in to get changed for warm ups, and there was Cherry sitting in my stall, with my jersey like it was a blanket. And Bubba, he was with Nico, playing some game." The twins looked up at them with their wide, innocent eyes, clearly enjoying their unexpected playtime with the towering athletes. "We didn't have a clue who they belonged to, but they were having the time of their lives, so we just kept playing. They had us wrapped around their little fingers," he admits, a touch of fondness in his voice. Jack looked at Cherry as she made grabee hands at him. “Cherry reminds me of my brother’s little girl.” He gently rubbed her cheek and she giggled. “I dont get to see Bug often enough so i loved having a moment to play with her. Bubs here would love to meet my younger brother’s boy.” Jack nudged Bubba’s hat down a bit, resulting in a huff accompanied by a stomp from Bubba.

Nico poked his head into the room, his expression a mix of relief and amusement. "Jack, Keefe is looking for you. Oh! Glad to see you found who the littles belong too," he said with a chuckle, nodding at the twins. Y/n couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for interrupting their pre-game routine. "I'm sorry, guys. I don't know how they even got down there. They hardly ever do things like that and when they do its at home!”

Jack, shrugged it off with a smile. "It's all good. They're pretty great little fans. I better go see what Coach needs," he said in a heavy sigh. Almost as if he didn’t want to leave just yet.

“Wait, Jack! If playing with the twins for that bit of time really made you happy…if you want we could..” She let her words stop when she caught the look he was giving her. His eyes full of hope, a small, soft smile gracing his lips. “Maybe, we.. uhm maybe we could set up a day for you to play with them? I mean since you miss your brother’s kid and all, not like to try and replace them or anything of course.” Y/n rambled nervously. Suddenly unsure why she started offering up her kids as a playdate to a professional athlete.

“Thanks Y/n. I can get Luke to bring Bud around too. How about we chat after the game?” Jack’s smile grew as he walked backwards towards the door but he ducked out before she could properly answer him. He left her standing there, holding Cherry and Bubba clinging to her pant leg, feeling entirely bewildered by what all just happened.

Because what the hell did just happen?