pbconsults

[sonknuxadow]

i cant help but notice that in the version of the ending where sage doesnt "die" and gets to go home with eggman shes not flashing between color palettes shes white and blue the whole time in that scene . and in all sonic channel art of sage thats been released since the final horizon dlc came out shes been in her white and blue color palette. is that just what she looks like permanently now ..?

[fandoms-writings]

Little Schemer

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.5K (hehe)

Summary: Secrets got Bucky into trouble with you, but he'll never do it again, if you'll give him another chance. This is for the drabble request "choose me" & "let me hear you make that sound again" <3

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, secrets were kept (no cheating, i promise), emotions, smut, p in v smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), spanking, slight bdsm, bordering overstimulation, some aftercare.

A/N: thank you so so much to @perdidosbucky-yyo for beta reading for me, i love youuuuuuu <3

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

Bucky knew he fucked up. He shouldn't have kept you in the dark like he did, but he was just enjoying having you to himself - that you didn't know who he was. You were a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken town and he just wanted it to stay that way for a little longer. 

He wasn't ashamed of himself, but people treated him differently when they knew. Much like when you learned who he was - what he is. 

As he pulled up to the bar's back door, turning his bike off, your face flashed in his mind. The tears, the anger, the shake of your head when he tried to reach out to you. He swore, just thinking about it made his heart break all over again. 

The door opened next to him and he turned to see Steve standing there with a confused look in his eyes. "You good?"

Bucky nodded and sighed, standing from the bike and pocketing the keys. "I'm fine." 

He shouldered past Steve, not wanting his brother to see the turmoil he knew he was wearing on his sleeve. 

He quickly spotted the table in the back of the rundown bar where the others were sitting, smiling amongst each other and chatting and laughing. He plastered on a grin, hoping it reached his eyes enough to be convincing as he approached the table. 

He just had to get through this little gathering and he could go home. Go home and wallow in his self-pity and sorrow. 

But as he came up to the edge of the table, a laugh from across the room had his blood freezing in his veins. It took all of his effort to keep from tripping over his own feet as he slowed to a stop. 

His friends at the table gave him concerned and confused looks as they watched him turn, peeking over his shoulder to the source of the laugh he hadn't heard in two weeks. 

His heart strained in his chest when he saw you. You were laughing at something the guy sitting next to you had said, the smile on your lips as beautiful as it always was. He saw the way your fingers fiddled with the fabric of the skirt you were wearing, the sage green satin already wrinkled under your hand. It was a nervous tick of yours, something you did when you were upset or anxious, or just not having a good time. 

Bucky fought the urge to go over to you, to get the guy away from you and get your hand to stop picking at your skirt. He was about to lose that fight with himself, insert himself into a situation that had nothing to do with him, when Natalia stepped up next to him, bumping his arm with her own. 

"You're being obvious James," Her voice was quiet as she spoke, "and by the way you're looking at her, I'm assuming she's the reason you've been so off lately." 

He pushed a heavy breath through his nose as he continued to watch you, your smile dimming. "What about it?" 

Nat stepped in front of him, pulling his attention from you and down to her red hair. "Make a decision." She softly demanded, reaching forward to pat his chest, right above his heart, "Make a good one." 

She stepped past him, walking back to the table. He heard her quiet voice tell the others to leave him be, that he'll either join in a minute, or he won't, and that was that. 

Bucky looked back at you, watching as you excused yourself from the conversation with the stranger and stood from your barstool. The man tried to caress the side of your arm, but you dodged out of his reach, quickly making your way to the other side where the bathrooms were. 

Bucky straightened his shoulders with a deep breath, intending to wait for you to return to try to speak with you, but when he noticed the man from the bar stand and follow your path, he started seeing red. 

His feet started moving before he could stop himself, refusing to believe that maybe you wanted this guy to follow you. That you were leading him to a more secluded area. Away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. He wouldn't believe it because he knew you, and he knew what that look on your face meant. 

He quickened his pace when he saw how close the stranger was getting and he could see the uncertainty, the anxiety, in your eyes as your unfocused gaze swept passed him to try a subtle look over your shoulder. 

Your eyes widened slightly when you spotted the guy trying to be nonchalant about following you, and your steps faltered. You were too slow in your reaction to turn back to your route and catch yourself, but Bucky was there, your sides freezing under his touch as he caught you. 

He tried to will the anger from his face as you gazed up at him, your eyes focusing on his before he leaned down. "I've got you, he won't touch you." 

You swallowed and took a shuddering breath, but you nodded to him, the tension beginning to ease from your muscles as you righted yourself, your hands reaching and landing on his arms. The warmth from your skin seeped through the long sleeves of Bucky's henley, shivers instantly threatening to crawl up his spine. 

"Where were you trying to go?" He asked, trying to keep the rage from his voice as he watched the man gain on you, "I'll walk you there." 

"The bathroom," Your small voice replied and he curtly nodded, but before he could guide you there, you spoke again, "I was going to hide there until I could sneak out without him seeing." 

A fist closed around his heart, "You're here by yourself?" At the nod of your head, Bucky's head started to spin as he thought of solutions for you. Frank might get mad at him for what he was about to suggest, but he'd handle him later. 

"I have somewhere better for you," He said, slowly guiding you away from the bar guy who was watching you two, "Will you trust me? Just this once." He knew it was a lot to ask, considering how he'd lied to you for months, but he knew that you remembered how he'd always put your first. Your happiness, your satisfaction, your safety. Nothing else mattered to him until you were taken care of and protected. 

Your chin dipped in a nod and Bucky immediately began cutting a path through the growing crowd, his hand on your lower back as he led you to the other side of the bar, quickly and thoroughly. 

It wasn't long before he came across the door he was looking for, and knocked before swinging it open. Inside was Frank's office, but luckily the man was out of town for the week, so no one would come knocking. 

Bucky ushered you inside before closing and locking the door, pulling the blinds shut so no one could peek inside the small office window. He kept the lights off, but the lights from the bar showed through the small cracks in the blinds, throwing light stripes of yellow through the room. 

Bucky looked through the blinds, watching the man from the bar as he looked around the space, looking for you, only to mutter to himself before going back to sit at the bar. 

"You can wait here as long as you need," Bucky softly said, turning in your direction, but not fully looking at you. 

"Won't Frank be mad?" You asked. You'd met him once when Bucky first started dating you. He'd paid Frank to not tell you about the club, and once Frank saw how far gone he was for you, he kept his part of the deal. 

"Let me worry about Frank," He assured you, "If you need anything, I'll let Wade know you're back here," He reached for the handle, "Lock it after I leave, alright?" 

"Wait." Bucky froze at the frenzied tone as you called for him, his hand on the door handle. The next words of yours were muttered on a low breath, and the sorrow dripping from them sent a crack through his chest. "Why won't you look at me?" 

"I... "He hung his head with a sigh and released the handle before turning towards you with his hands on his hips. "I didn't think you wanted me to see you. Or that you wanted to see me." 

Your soft footsteps padded closer as his gaze remained on the floor, the toes of your shoes coming into his vision. You'd worn those simple black flats you loved so much. They were your everyday shoes. There were no bows and no straps. The most unremarkable thing you owned and yet the sight of those shoes so close to his boots made his heart leap into his throat. 

"James," You called for him, your voice dragging soft fingers down his back, a shiver following in its wake. "Why would you think that?" 

"Because of what I did," He muttered, "What you saw me do."

He heard you heave a breath at the mention of the incident he'd been replaying in his head since you walked away. The blood coating his knuckles. The gasp that fell from your lips. The dread that had instantly flooded his chest at those wide eyes of yours as you backed away. 

You, running from him. 

"Will you please look at me?" The crack in your voice pushed him over the edge and he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. It may have been dark in that office, but even on the blackest of nights, Bucky would know exactly where to look to find your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered. 

"No, no you don't apologize," His words were heavy on his tongue as he scrambled to understand why you were saying that. "I'm the one who scared you, and lied to you." 

"And I'm the one who ran off before you could explain yourself," Your fingers fidgeted in front of you like you were keeping yourself from reaching for him. "It's not like I didn't know." 

Bucky's whole world froze. "What do you mean?" 

You let out a weak scoff, "Come on, Bucky, it's not hard to connect the dots, I just had to want to connect them."

At the shock that must've been written all over his face, you let out a small sad laugh. 

"I mean, c'mon," You started, "I get asked out by this motorcycle guy, who everyone else in town seems to be scared of. He's the only one in town who doesn't wear one of those vests and is the only one who the club leaves alone." You took a step forward, reaching for his hand. He let you take it in your gentle hold, your fingers turning it over so his knuckles were on display. "He also shows up to my house with weird bruises and cuts on his hands that he has no believable explanation for." 

You looked up from his hand, not letting it fall between you. 

"I just wish he would've told me," You whispered, "If I had known, I wouldn't have gone looking for you that day. I would've seen your text saying you were busy, and left it at that." 

Finally, you let his hand go, taking your warmth with it and he tugged his lip between his teeth to fight the urge to reach out for you.

"And now, I feel like I have to choose between now you and past you. The you I know you are, and the you I thought I knew." 

He took a deep to steady himself, though it came out shakier than he wanted it to. 

"I'm so sorry," His voice strained in his throat, "I just didn't want you involved. I liked that you didn't know who I was. I just wanted to enjoy that while it lasted." 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You asked, your arms wrapping around yourself. 

"I was," He may have been quick to answer, but he didn't want you thinking for even a second longer than you already had that he was going to keep you in the dark forever. "I promise, I was going to tell you, but I didn't want to scare you off." 

You were quiet for a moment, and he could see those gears turning in your head as you contemplated his words. 

"Please," He whispered, "I'll do anything. I'll do anything you ask if you choose me. The me you now know I am." 

You took him in for a second - the bags under his eyes, the weight dragging down his shoulders, the pained sorrow lining the edges of his face. "Tell me everything." 

"Everything?" He asked. 

"Everything. No more secrets. No more hidden skeletons." You dropped your arms and stepped toward him, "I want to know it all. And then, I'll decide." 

His stomach erupted in nervous butterflies, realizing this was it. This was his last shot. 

So he told you all of it.

How he ended up a part of the club in his early twenties. How you'd stumbled across a rare moment of him having to defend his club's integrity from another. How even though he has to do those things, he doesn't necessarily enjoy it - he's just good at it. 

Some parts had you laughing, pulling a smile from his lips at the joyous sound that seemed so out of place considering the situation. Others had you hastily wiping the tears from your eyes as you sniffled. 

He spilled his guts to you. He turned over every stone and shone a light in every dark corner of his heart. He laid it out before you, for you to examine and judge, but he'd do it a thousand times over if it meant you'd let him sit next to you like you were. 

You two were in that office for hours. The bar had hit its peak hour. The music outside the office had turned from quiet rock to bassy club as people filed in to dance. The lights had lost their old yellow and turned to blues, greens, purples, and pinks, flashing through the blinds.  

When he was done telling you his life story, from the moment he joined the club to you sitting across from him, you were silent, staring up at him on the leather couch. 

"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely audible over the bass on the other side of the wall. "Thank you for telling me." 

He nodded, his chest aching in suspense as you continued to watch him. 

"Do you really love me?" You asked, "You said in your story about how when I ran off, you couldn't believe you fucked up the one relationship you'd ever cared about and lost the only girl you ever loved." 

Bucky's heart fell to the pit threatening to swallow him whole. He remembered saying those words, but he didn't think you'd heard them clearly enough because you hadn't acknowledged them. He hadn't meant to let them slip quite like they had, he wanted to tell you in a much more romantic way, but his mouth was moving faster than his brain. 

He dipped his chin in a nod, "I do." Your lips twitched up in the corners and that was all he needed to gain more confidence in his emotionally raw state. "I love you, and I've loved you from the moment I first heard you say my name back to me." 

You didn't say anything back, you just sat there with that small grin on your lips as you contemplated him. Everything that he was. Bucky didn't usually like being the center of attention, being examined. But with you, he'd remain under your eye for as long as you allowed. He did his best to ignore the race of his heart as he waited for a response, but your next move did nothing to help ease its fast pace. 

You slid over to him, gently raising your knee and setting it on the other side of him, straddling his thighs as your hands rested on the front of his cutte. He wanted to grab you, desperate to have his hands on you, to feel you again, but he didn't want to push you. So he fisted his hands at his sides as your fingers trailed up his neck and to his chin before resting on the sides of his neck. 

"I've missed you," You whispered, the smile falling from your lips as your eyes traced the lines of his face. "I want to choose you as you are now," You started, his heart racing at your words, "But you have to keep being honest with me. No more secrets." 

Your nose brushed against his as your eyes looked up from his lips and his breath caught in his throat. "No secrets. Ever," He whispered, the movement of his words brushing his lips every so gently against your own. "You have my word." 

"If you ever keep a secret like that from me again," You muttered, your words crystal clear as they engrained themselves into his heart, "There won't be another chance. Got it?" 

He nodded, "I understand." 

"Good," You remained close, your breath fanning against his lips as his hands itched to reach for you. "Are you going to touch me?" 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, imagining his hands touching you after the things you've seen him do was the hardest part. He didn't want to stain you with the bad side of him, the red on his hands. 

"Bucky?" Your voice brought him back, and he opened his eyes - when had he closed them? 

He wanted to voice what was racing through his mind, but he couldn't find the words and decided to save them for another day. Instead, he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper, "Can I touch you?" 

There was a certain understanding in your eyes as you nodded, "Of course you can." 

His hands found their way up to cup your face, the calluses of his fingers brushing against your soft cheeks. "Can I kiss you?" 

You let out a soft laugh as you nodded. That was all he needed before he closed that minuscule gap between your mouths, groaning when your hands tightened against the sides of his neck. 

Your lips danced to a familiar tune, but there were new notes now. Understanding and trust, however fragile and new. Longing and relief at starting fresh.

Your lips parted, allowing him to taste the subtle drink still on your tongue from hours ago. His hands slid down your shoulders and ribs, landing on your hips and pulling them against him. A whine vibrated through your chest into his mouth and the heat that filled his being was overwhelming as he rocked your hips with his hands. 

"I'm never losing you again," He said against your lips, "Never."

"I'll hold you to that," You breathed out, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth. 

"You better." His hands squeezed your hips, pulling them down again against the hardness in his jeans. 

"I love you, James," His hands slowed as you pulled away. "I love you so much, and that's why I was here tonight." 

His brows pinched together. "What do you mean?" 

"I know you come here every Friday night," You said, "And I didn't want to talk over the phone, and I didn't want to lose my nerve and hang up before you could answer a call, so I came here hoping to see you tonight. And I'm glad I did." You smiled down at him, your hips still moving against his.

He shook his head in disbelief and shock as he loosed a huff of a laugh. One of his hands left your hip and reached up to stroke your cheek. "I love it when you scheme about me." 

You let out a shocked laugh, "I do not scheme!" Your laughter burst out as he grabbed you and flipped you around, hovering over you on the couch. 

"Alright alright, whatever you say," He muttered into the skin of your neck as he trailed his lips down its surface, inhaling the scent of you as he made his way to the bit of your breasts that showed when he pulled your shirt down, "Schemer." 

You opened your mouth to deny the nickname but you hadn't realized his hand trailing up the inside of your shirt, sneaking its way under your bra, his fingers gently pulling at your nipple. Whatever you were about to say broke off in a soft gasp, ending in a little whine that was like fuel to the heat driving Bucky's hand under your skirt. 

It trailed up the softness of your leg, tracing soft patterns as it climbed before landing over the damp cotton covering your center. He pulled the fabric to the side and groaned a soft 'fuck' at the slick that instantly coated his fingers before they slowly circled your clit. "I want to taste you," He said the words into the skin of your breast, "Will you let me taste you again?" 

"Please," You begged, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling at the roots, "please Bucky." 

He smiled into your skin as both of your hands worked to pull the fabric of your skirt up to your waist. Bucky wasted no time pulling your underwear to the side and languidly dragging his tongue up your slit, moaning as your taste flooded his mouth. 

"God I missed this," He wrapped his mouth around the entirety of you, his tongue working slowly as he savored the moment. He would never take another moment with you for granted again, he was going to take his time to brand everything into his mind. The way your eyes fluttered but tried to stay open to watch him. The feeling of your hands pulling on his hair when he slipped two fingers in, curling them against your walls. The breathiness in your voice as you begged him to let you fall over the edge of release. 

"Bucky please," You struggled to grind into his mouth when he pulled away again to watch your cunt greedily swallow his fingers. 

"Can I take you home?" He asked, looking up at you. 

You looked down at him, the exasperation in your eyes almost making him laugh. "Now?"

He nodded, "Yes," He curled his fingers again, a smile growing on his lips as your jaw dropped and let out another delicious sound, "I want to fuck you properly, not in this office." 

"What if I want you now?" You asked, your voice tight and he groaned at the confession. 

"I would fuck you, but I don't want Frank coming back and smelling you in here," He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, "That's only for me." 

A low whine filled his ears as you tugged your lip between your teeth and nodded, "Okay, but you're driving." 

He curled his fingers one more time, relishing in the gasp you sucked in before he removed his fingers from you, sticking them in his own mouth to suck them clean. The sight made you moan before you leaned forward and pulled his hand away so you could capture his mouth with yours, tasting his mouth as he blindly adjusted your underwear and skirt back to normal. 

You two left the office, locking it behind you and weaving your way through the crowd that had gathered in the bar. Bucky laughed as you began to dance behind him while he led the way. When you both got to your car, you tossed him your keys and he sent off a short message to Steve letting him know he was leaving his bike around back. Steve had the spare key and would take it to the club for him. 

Bucky couldn't remember a time he drove so fast as he drove to your place, especially when you were sitting in the passenger seat looking at him the way you were. Your hands trailing over his lap, gripping him through his jeans. 

Your hand had made it past his belt and zipper, sneaking under the waistband of his boxers to start stroking him as you trailed kisses down his neck when he pulled into your driveway. He hastily threw the car in park and turned it off before turning to you and pulling you in for a bruising kiss. 

He pulled your hand out from his jeans and pressed the keys into your fingers, "Get inside," He mumbled against your lips, "You have two minutes before I come in there and take what's mine. I don't care where you are." 

You whined, trying to kiss him again when he pinned you with a look and you shuddered, nodding. 

"Go," He whispered, chuckling to himself as you scrambled to get out of the car and raced up your front steps. He fixed himself back into his pants, not bothering to redo his belt, before getting out of the car. He wouldn't have cared, but he didn't want any of your neighbors calling the cops for his indecency. 

He made sure to grab anything you left in the car and lock it before slowly climbing the same stairs you ran up. You'd left the door open in your haste, and your house was quiet as he stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He undid his boots, refusing to drag anything on to your soft clean carpets. 

As Bucky climbed the stairs to your room, he pulled his belt off, loosely wrapping it in a loop as he approached your half open door, pausing at the sight before him. 

You were sitting against the headboard, naked with your fingers buried in your cunt. Your breathy sigh when you spotted him was his undoing and he grew achingly hard in his jeans. 

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" He struggled to make his voice stern as you flushed, quickly removing your fingers. 

"I just wanted to be ready for you," You whispered, "I don't want to wait anymore." 

He smirked, and approached the bed, setting the belt on the edge of the mattress before he started removing his own clothes. "Kneel right here," He gestured to the bit of mattress in front of him, "and face the other way." 

You nodded, and he could see you easily slipping into the submissive side of you that you only let him see. You moved to where he wanted you, and when he was done undressing, he grabbed the belt again. 

He leaned forward, placing his chin on your shoulder as his tone softened, "You remember your safe word right?" You nodded, mumbling the chosen word in confirmation and he smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, "Good. Are you okay with this? Or do you not want that tonight?" 

"I want it," You breathed, a shiver raking over your body as he kissed your neck. 

He nodded into your shoulder before pulling back, "Give me your hands." 

You instantly followed his instruction, putting your hands behind your back, and he looped his belt around your wrists, fastening them together. "Bend over, darlin," He ordered, pushing his hand on between your shoulder blades. He grabbed your shoulder to help you bend over before angling your hips higher, presenting you before him. 

His hands wrapped over your ass, squeezing and spreading them apart. 

"Fuck," He muttered, probing your entrance with a thumb, "You're dripping." You moaned into the comforter as he pushed a thumb in, "I can't wait to feel you around me again." 

You moaned his name again, begging him to fuck you, but he shook his head.

"Not yet," He pressed his thumb further in as he rubbed your cheek with his other hand, "You touched yourself without my permission." He heard your gasp as he pulled his hand back, "Good girls don't do that." 

The smack that rang through the air as his hand collided with your skin was drowned out by the loud moan that you voiced. He waited for you to remember the rules of this little game you played and it didn't take long for pride to swell in his chest as you angled your head out of the blanket. 

"One," You whined, trying to push back against his thumb that was still in your cunt. 

"There you go," He muttered, raising his hand, "Let me hear you make that sound again," and bringing it down again and again as you kept count, your moans turning to shrieks then wails as you reached five. 

He gently laid his hand on the red skin, rubbing away the sting as he praised you, leaning down and kissing the tender area before tugging your legs off the bed. He kneeled behind you, giving you only one warning, "Don't come until I say you can," before removing his thumb and replacing it with his tongue. 

"Oh fuck," You cried, "James!" Your legs shook as your toes tried to push against the ground to raise your hips. His hand pulled your legs apart, keeping your feet from touching the floor as he moaned into you, the vibration tearing another cry from your throat. 

He knew you wouldn't last long like this, but god he just couldn't get over you. He wanted to devour you whole and this was the closest he could get. 

When your cries turned incoherent and your legs started shaking, he removed his tongue, gently setting your legs down and standing behind you. He leaned over you, resting his cock between over your ass and he kissed down your spine, letting you calm for a moment before undoing the belt and helping you turn over. 

He wiped the tears from your cheeks, placing gentle kisses along the trails. "You did so good." You hummed, your lids heavy but your eyes alert as you watched him. He lifted your legs, pushing your knees to chest, "I think you deserve a reward," Your eyes lit up, "What do you think?" 

He chuckled at your frantic nod, "Please, James," you begged, "Please fuck me. I've missed you so much." 

His heart squeezed, "I know," He lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing in as your jaw dropped open, "I've missed you too." 

His own breathing became tight as your cunt gripped him, pulling him in, eager to be filled by him again. 

"Fuck, I love the way you feel around me," he ground out, slowly pulling out and pushing back in, setting a slow rhythm. "You're always so warm, so perfect." 

His hands moved your legs to the side, holding them open as he sped up, driving into you. He wrapped one of your legs around his waist, letting go so he could reach up and gently grab your neck. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tightening with his own, letting him know how tight to squeeze, making your eyes roll back as you gasped. 

"Oh fuck," You whined, forcing your eyes open to look at him. "Bucky please, I'm so close, so close, please." 

He opened his hand, wrapping it around the back of your neck and pulling you up. Your hands shot out to grip his shoulders as he placed his forehead against yours, his pace growing brutal. 

"Hold on," He told you, "Almost, almost." 

He felt the familiar tightening in himself as he watched you do your best to stave off your own release, waiting for him. 

"Oh, good girl," he panted, his brows pinching, "good fucking girl, just a little bit more. You're gonna come with me, yeah?" 

You nodded, words gone from your brain as your moans grew higher in pitch. 

"That's a good girl," He praised, the sensation growing stronger and stronger until he knew the edge was right there. "Come for me baby," He all but begged, "Come on my cock, soak it , come on." 

He rambled as you tightened around him, squeezing his cock until he was falling over that edge with you, pleasure blinding behind his eyes as they closed. "Fuck fuck fuck," He dropped your other leg, catching himself as he fell over you, his breathing short as every other thought vanished from his brain. 

All he could focus on was the feeling of you wrapped around him, your fingers in a death grip on his shoulders as your cries filled his ears. 

"There you go, there you go," He muttered into your neck as you came down from your high. "I love you so much, I love you." An airy laugh broke from your chest. 

"I love you," You whispered, pressing your lips against his shoulder. 

Once you both came down from your high, he cleaned you up before joining you in bed, wrapping you into his chest. He would never forget how he'd almost lost this - lost you. 

As you drifted to sleep against him, a smile on your lips, he vowed to himself and to the silence of the house that he'd never fuck it up again. Never again.

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

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[shinynewmemories]

The exchange between Peeta and Gale in Tigris's basement used to be my least favorite scene in the entire book. I hated how it made Katniss out to be a heartless drone whose only motivation is survival. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I'm now convinced I grossly misinterpreted the purpose of the passage the first times I read it. I don't think it's about Gale revealing some sage wisdom about Katniss; I think it's a revelation about how far gone Katniss and Gale's relationship truly is, and how little he understands the way she loves. AND it's about how much better Peeta understands Katniss, even in his half-hijacked state. Let me break it apart a tad to explain what I mean:

“She loves you, you know,” says Peeta. “She as good as told me after they whipped you.”

Peeta is correct on both counts. Katniss DOES love Gale, and in CF, she internally refers back to the whipping as the moment she "chose" Gale over Peeta. Peeta knew it then, and he knows it now.

“Don’t believe it,” Gale answers. “The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell... well, she never kissed me like that.”

Correct, but it's interesting that Gale refers to THAT moment on the beach as proof that Katniss loves Peeta. Because on one hand, that WAS the first time she felt and displayed sexual desire for anyone. But on the other hand, I would argue that there was lots more evidence for Katniss's love for Peeta; "anyone paying attention" could see it. So why does Gale point to the one time things got hot and heavy between them?

“It was just part of the show,” Peeta tells him, although there’s an edge of doubt in his voice.

Incorrect, but I'll give him half credit for the "edge of doubt" in his voice.

“No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that’s the only way to convince her you love her.” 

Here's where Gale starts talking kinda crazy. Since when has the issue been convincing KATNISS that HE (or Peeta) loved HER? Since the end of book 1, there has never been the slightest doubt in Katniss's mind that Peeta loved her. And she's never doubted Gale's love, although she admits it caught her off guard. Does Gale actually think that if Katniss could just SEE how much he loves her, she'd have no choice but to marry him? Or does he think Katniss is holding back because he hasn't "given up everything" for her? Either way, he paints Katniss as a fundamentally untrusting and self-centered person.

Also, he implies that Katniss needs to be "won over", that she needs to be PERSUADED to love either of them... Yikes. It's like he actually believes Katniss doesn't have the emotional capabilities of falling in love all on her own.

There’s a long pause. “I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then.”

Incorrect! Over to Peeta for an explanation of why that would have been a Colossally Stupid idea:

“You couldn’t,” says Peeta. “She’d never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life.”

DING DING DING DING! I just picture Peeta making a ????????no??? face as Gale says he should have volunteered for him. Like?? Can you IMAGINE? Book 1 Katniss would have been screaming at Gale like "you absolute IDIOT. WHY would you throw your life and the lives of your and/or my family away. And for WHAT? MORON."

But I get it. Gale is saying this out of desperation. Because he can't say "I wish you had died in those games" (although perhaps that is how he's felt once or twice). And to be fair, if Peeta had never been in those games with Katniss, things between them now would be very... different. (shhhhh Gale doesn't have to know about the whole "this would've happened anyway" thing)

“Well, it won’t be an issue much longer. I think it’s unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it’s Katniss’s problem. Who to choose.” Gale yawns. “We should get some sleep.”

Correct, nothing to object to here.

“Yeah.” I hear Peeta’s handcuffs slide down the support as he settles in. “I wonder how she’ll make up her mind.”

Even though Peeta is more in sync with Katniss, he doesn't presume to know how her romantic side works. Gotta respect that.

“Oh, that I do know.” I can just catch Gale’s last words through the layer of fur. “Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.”

So I ask: if Gale is shown throughout this exchange to be mostly wrong about Katniss's motivations, desires, and possibly her whole personality, why would we believe he's correct about this?? I think the only conclusion is that he's NOT.

I'll end by adding Katniss's opinion about Gale's assertion:

It’s a horrible thing for Gale to say, for Peeta not to refute. Especially when every emotion I have has been taken and exploited by the Capitol or the rebels.

Katniss is DEEPLY hurt by what Gale said. And I no longer believe it's because it's the truth about HER. I think it's because it's the truth about how Gale sees her, and he sees her in a very hurtful (albeit incorrect) way.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Kirishima gives Todoroki S*x Tips | Todoroki x Reader Fic

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋, Shoto Todoroki x Eijiro Kirishima Friendship

Genre: Fluff, Sex, Friendship, NSFW

CW: MDNI!, discussing sex, foreplay, p*rn, hickies

Shoto Todoroki doesn’t really get sex until he gets it.

He loves you and knows you want to do it…so naturally he does research. If there’s one thing Shoto is good at, it’s mastering a subject

When Kirishima loses his virginity, he lets Shoto ask him questions. They sit late into the night at the library, reviewing and analyzing Kirishima’s 30 minutes of action. Shoto takes notes and in that straightforward way of his, asks for Eijro’s opinions on positions, foreplay and hickies.

“Did you perform oral sex on her? Is the female anatomy confusing?” He asks, causing Eijiro to go red in the face. Eijiro nods yes to both. “It took a few minutes, but once I got into it, I figured it out pretty quickly!” He says earnestly. Shoto scribbles down a reminder to Google some detailed diagrams of the female body when he gets home.

 “Foreplay is super important, because girls need to, like, warm up before they’re ready to bone.” Eijiro adds, motioning for Shoto to keep taking notes.

“I didn’t know that.” Shoto blinks, surprised. To be fair, he had never really thought much about sex until you’d brought it up a few months earlier. He knew the rudimentary mechanics from middle school health class, but had never wondered what went into the act beyond the basics of reproduction.

“Shoto. My dude. This is going to be harder than I thought.” Eijiro puts his face in his hands. “How does someone our age have little to no knowledge about sex?”

“I wasn’t interested in it until now.” Shoto says flatly. “But now that Y/N wants to do it, I want to, too.”

Eijiro stares at Shoto thoughtfully through his fingers. “That was a pretty chivalrous response.” He admits, lifting his head from his hands. “You just want to make your girl happy, I can get behind that. But Shoto – if you don’t want to have sex, you don’t have to. Enthusiastic consent is key to solid intimacy.”

“I really want to do this.” Shoto says insistently. “I don’t really understand what all the hype is about, but I want to try it with y/n. I want to feel close to her that way. And maybe once I do it, I’ll understand.”

“Alright, man. Then I’ll help you. Consider me your Sex Expert. Your Sexpert!” Kirishima grins at his witty wordplay.

Shoto looks at him skeptically. “Haven’t you only had sex once, though? How much of an expert can you possibly be?”

Kirishima deflates. “I don’t see anyone else out in the library at 11pm giving you sex advice!”

“True.”

“So let me teach you what I know.” He says sagely. “Just call me your Sex Sensei!”

Shoto snorts out a laugh. “Pass.”

“Fine, be like that. Regardless, you are now my student. I will shepherd you into the next phase of your sex life with chivalry and grace.” Eijiro is really getting into the bit now. One look down at Shoto’s nervous face pulls him back down to Earth. “What’s wrong?”

“This is a lot. What if I’m bad at it? And what if y/n hates it?” Shoto closes his notebook and looks pleadingly at Kirishima with his mismatched eyes. “You’ve got to help me.”

“Calm down, man. It’s really not as big a deal as you think! And I’ve already committed to being your Sex Sensei, so we’re going to see this through together.” He motions for Shoto to open up his notebook again. “Now let’s start with the basics – have you ever watched porn?”

--------------- FIN for now! ------------------------------------------------

I'm working on a longer fic to really dig into this exploration for Shoto! I love the idea of Kirishima being such a bro and trying to help his friends however he can. I also LOVE the idea of Kirishima fucking someone once and believing that makes him the resident expert on sex.

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty seven

prompt: teeth pairing: lando/oscar word count: 665 a/n: set in the single dad!lando/engineer!oscar universe. you can find more of this universe here and here

“Alright, kiddo, time to brush your teeth.” Oscar’s voice filters through the open door of the bathroom as Lando makes his way into their hotel room. He was running late, and he’s glad Oscar had the time to get Evelyn to the hotel room and to bed as quickly as possible. They try to maintain some kind of semblance of normalcy and structure in Evelyn’s day to day life, but it’s hard, sometimes.

“Dad says that if I brush my teeth every day that they will turn pearly white and the sun will reflect off of them,” Evelyn says, voice turning up in excitement in the end, and Lando grins as he drops his bag on the couch in the middle of the hotel room, pictures her facial expression, eyes no doubt big in wonder.

“Well, I’m not sure that’s possible,” Oscar says. “But we can try?”

“Trying is important,” Evelyn says sagely. “Oscar, can I ask a question?”

“Sure, Eve, always,” Oscar replies. Lando’s on the brink of making his presence known, moving towards the bathroom, but something withholds him. Curiosity, about what Evelyn will ask. About how Oscar will answer.

 “Who are you?���

“Ah,” Oscar says. “Well, I’m many things. Happy, for starters.” Lando’s heart does a little jump.

“No,” Evelyn says. “That’s not what I mean. I mean like. You are with dad, right? And you take care of me too, so. Are you also dad?”

“Oh,” Oscar says. “That’s a good question.”

They haven’t talked about this, not really. Sure, they talked about what it would mean, to be together, to raise Evelyn together, what their future would look like. But not this. Not if Evelyn should call Oscar dad, or papa, or whatever else. Lando bites his lip, goes to intervene, when Oscar speaks up again.

“Do you want me to be dad?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” Evelyn says, clearly deep in thought. “Can I try it?”

“Of course, bug,” Oscar says.

“Dad, can you please help me brush my teeth?” There’s a pause, and then. “No, no, no, that felt really weird.”

“Well, you don’t have to. You can call me whatever you want,” Oscar says.

Evelyn seems to think about this. “Can I just call you Oscar? But you are still my dad. But your dad name is just Oscar.”

“I think I can work with that, yeah,” Oscar says. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” Evelyn says decidedly. “Oscar, can you help me brush my teeth?”

“Always, kiddo,” Oscar says.

Deciding the moment must be over, Lando finally makes his presence known, steps into the bathroom, where Evelyn is trying to squeeze toothpaste onto the sparkly Disney princess toothbrush Oscar is holding out for her. “Hey,” he says.

“Dad!” Evelyn says, dropping the toothpaste in her haste to go hug Lando, letting it clatter down into the sink. Oscar picks it up with an amused look on his face as Lando pulls Evelyn into a hug, picking her up off the floor and giving her a little spin.

“Hey, love. Have you been good?”

“The bestest,” Evelyn says, as Lando carries her back over to the sink, leans over to press a soft kiss to Oscar’s lips. “Oscar and I have decided that you are dad and he is Oscar.”

Oscar meets his eyes over Evelyn’s head, a silent question presence in them. “That’s awesome,” Lando says, to Evelyn as much as to Oscar. “Alright, go let your Oscar help you with brushing your teeth. I’ll go read you a story later.”

“Yay,” Evelyn says, and then takes the toothbrush from Oscar’s hand. “I love you,” she says.

“Love you too,” Lando and Oscar say, at the exact same time. Their eyes meet again, over Evelyn’s head, and Lando smiles at Oscar, soft and fond, and hopes that it conveys everything he’s feeling about his little family right now. By the way Oscar smiles back, equally soft and fond, he thinks it does.

[houseofanticipation]

You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."

"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"

Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."

"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."

You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"

"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."

"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"

"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"

Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'

What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.

I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.

A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.

In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."

It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.

I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.

After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties

You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."

I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."

You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."

It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.

"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.

Who am I do decline?

I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.

You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.

All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."

My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?

I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.

What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hi 👋🏻 are you taking requests for the creators child AU.

Could the child be Alhaitham's or maybe Diluc's.

Thank you

The creator had

Such a smart child

WC: ~900

This feels more like a collection of head cannons but enjoy!

I believe Nahida would be able to dull the hit to the archons enough for them to not have a public outbreak like in other scenarios, so most of the gossip around is from people of sumeru.

“Stop speaking like that of the acting great sage! The matra will get you punished if they hear you talking like that”

“I'm not claiming anything! I'm just saying it's weird how much time he spent around them”

“They were reviewing the structure of the akademiya”

“Sure, and my wife and I were just studying so many years ago”

“Profesor…”

"that is why my daughter was finishing highschool when we both published our thesis. We were 38 but you get the point"

"professor please... Stop..."

It has been a running rumor for a few months, but nobody really believes it, the stone faced great sage and their welcoming grace? No, never, impossible. There are scholars attempting to refute it but their attempts are short-lived as a few months later you settle back in sumeru, and your lazyly hanging robe you wear now is pushed slightly forward around the abdomen, just enough for it to be an untold fact.

“Why am I returning? I guess it just felt right, given everything” slowly after the theory took traction.

On the later months the baby gets calm whenever he is read books, the kicking stopping for as long as anyone recited paragraphs of dense knowledge, it was a common occurrence for you to tag along thesis defenses, something that professors enjoyed the opportunity of chat you up and students suddenly put delays because of sickness on masse.

“I wonder why they are all so nervous to defend their statement! I don't even ask them questions for them to be scared of me!”

“I think regardless of what you did or didn't do any of them would be at ease”

“And I heard they sit through thesis defenses and lectures because the child is calm hearing long speeches”

“I heard that too! I even heard that once they summoned one of the great sages to read a book so they could fall asleep”

“Really! Could it be…” the teen girl looks at her friend mischievously “great sage al haitham?” Making her friend look away feigning not knowing.

°•°

“I'm extremely sorry for calling you so late, Haitham” you lay on your bed, back flush against the wall. The covers on your lap make little to cover the almost watermelon sized bump “I attempted to read to see if he calmed down on his own but when I stop he starts kicking up a storm”

Alhaitham drags your vanity stool to your bedside, a soft creaking sound coming from the friction between the woods. He just hums as he skims the bookshelf “don't fret so much, it's only natural for me to do this” his fingers dance softly caressing the spines of various books ranging from Inazuma novellas to published investigation on bird care “what has been working best? Early language dictionary? Transcripts of old manuscripts?”

“alchemical botany has been doing alright”

“great, it's coming out to be a spantamad or amurta. I'm sure Tighnari and Cyno will be elated with the news” he rolls his eyes and pulls out a leather bound book with vine engraving.

“Aww, is someone jealous?”

“I'm just saying that something like ‘development of runic language during the last 300 years’ might be more interesting” you just snicker “weren't you attempting to sleep? Close your eyes”

You side down the pillows with a smile on your lips “fine, if you don't want to read alchemical botany why don't you use the white book?” as he glances over he read the simple title ‘weight distribution in columns depending on materials’ and sighs heavily.

“Spantamad might not be so bad.”

There is a small whisper in the last few months that the child could be meant to be one of the great sages but the matra keeps it down when someone starts with it.

When he is born Alhaitham reads to his son some of the books he kept from his parents.

The one year old is perched on his lap, leaning against one of his arms while they both look at the book, one of them reading attentively the words and explaining some concepts while the other is attempting to fall asleep.

“I doubt he is truly listening to you”

“You would be surprised by how much the biology faculty showed children can learn before school”

“I believe they meant before the 5 years mark, not 6 months”

Maybe even wants you to do something similar, it could be an essay, thesis or even storybook but he would want it to have some banter between you two or little comments like “it's good that you remembered to spell correctly postganglionic fibers, I don't have to correct you anymore”

He uses kaveh as an underpaid nanny just plopping the toddler on his lap and leaving without saying a word. He does stop when his son's drawings start to feature more houses and structures than people.

“Are we sure he is mine?”

“For the sixth time, yes. He is a carbon copy of you”

When your baby grows he is the smartest of his class, reciting everything his father read to him since before his birth, even if he refuses to acknowledge it al haitham is really proud of his son and his little shelf with math Olympics medals or the certificate he got from the first place in a writing competition.

Even then the moment your son turns 18 and has to decide what branch he wants to go into is the hardest week of his life, dreading the possibility of another architect in his life. He is quite happy when he choses spantamad, even if he would have like him to go for haravatat.

[thedivineden]

Bible Study

pairing: tomura shigaraki x reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Fem!, Dubcon, religious themes, manipulation, sexual themes, age gap, no quirk, breeding, unprotected sex, dumbification

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.” Matthew 6:24

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Over and over, you could hear the man in your ear. Whispers of the Lord’s Prayer embedded on your brain, you must think of something else, anything else. “Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” you could hardly contain yourself as you opened your eyes, the from the stained glass windows seem to illuminate the indiscernible halo perched on his head. “and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” He had you hooked, “Amen.”.

“Amen.”

You could hardly contain your excitement as you marched out the door towards your parents. Your session with Minister Shigaraki had you on cloud nine. Even if you couldn’t interact with him for more than 10 seconds before someone else is running up to him, being in his presence is a blessing. Despite the initial annoyance, you understand the effect he has on the congregation. Not only is he incredibly handsome, but his words have a way of touching people.

“Come on sweetheart, we need to get home. We can’t be late to dinner.” responding with a quiet yes ma’am you trail behind you family. Shuffling down the corridor and out the door you could feel the July heat swell around you. Even with the barge of people you still manage to catch a familiar smell of spice and soft sage. He’s nearby. Whipping your head around you see priest shigaraki a few feet behind you with that dazzling smile plastered on his face.

His movements are so smooth, the way he weaves through the crowd halts you. It felt like time was moving slow, In a few strides he was in front of you, smiling from eye to ear. It didn’t matter what it was, you were always available to talk to Father Tomura. In a few strides he was in front of you. It felt like time stopped for you two, there was an undeniable connection and you know he felt it too.

“I’m glad I caught you, it seems like you leave something every Sunday. It’s almost a routine” he says with a light chuckle, you knew he would come running after you. He’s the reason this doltish crush continues. If he allows it, then the lord is truly on your side. “Apologies minister, I am rather forgetful.” Laying your hand upon the scarf you brush his hand lightly pulling away. “I do have a rather important matter to discuss with you. Can you meet me in my office after Tuesday night bible study.” Immediately a smile stretches across your face replying with a sheepish yes, “I knew I could count on you, have a blessed darling and stay out of trouble!” The moment he turns from you the world seems dull.

Sunday dinner came and went as normal, it was nice to spend time with family but draining when it comes to your older cousins. They made it very evident that the Priest is only reason to attend church. “I bet you he’s never even fucked someone before, he screams virgin.” Your cousin jasmine says passing the phone to your cousin Brianna. “ No girl, he’s definitely fucked before. You should see what he looks like under the robe.”

That statement alone makes you ears hot. How the fuck does she know what he looks like under his robe. As if she knew you were looking at her, she whipped around to face you smirking. “What’s wrong cuz? Got something you want to ask?” Flustered wasn’t even the word for you right now, you wanted to know. “H-How do you know what he looks like under his robe?” Without another word, jasmine is closing her room door turning the lock. “You have to promise to keep this a secret, we didn’t know he was getting undressed.” They were watching him get undressed?

Would God punish you for this? The pure terror you felt is all the conformation you need but the heat swelling below beckoned for more. “I only want to see because I don’t believe you.” Eyes rolling jasmine pulls out her phone, scrolling through her photos she throws her phone across the room at you. Landing next to you is a photo of the man himself.

Minister Tomura in the back room of the church, cerulean hair pulled back with his robe draped around his waist revealing his large carven chest. Your eyes were glued to the screen. Looking up at your cousin, cheek hot, you ask “can you send this to me?” Giggles and laughs erupt from the two as your throw the phone back to her.

The moment you arrived home you set to finish your chores and participate in night prayer. “Sweetie, can you lead the prayer tonight?” A feeling of shame seem to wave over you and disappear once the intercession began. “Now I lay me down to sleep” you can hear a voice in the back of your head. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep” maybe it’s a spirit trying to send a message. “Watch and guard me through the night” the voice whispering how they will watch over you fills you with warmth. “And wake me with the morning light.” Implicitly wishing father tomura would bless you with his presence, the image of his rope hanging off his waist fresh in your mind. “Father, you know my worries and care for my troubles.” Opening your eyes you can see your mother in front of you, eyes closed reciting the word unaware of your sickly desires.“So I give these heavy concerns to you, Amen.”

“Amen. Thank you sweetie, I love you. Goodnight”

Your night was far from over. It seems as if your knees are bolted to the floor, your ill feeling can only compare to shame and guilt. What would mother say if she knew I was calling out to our pastor instead of the lord. When you heard a ding come from your phone all shame null in your mind, you knew what it was and your mind was racing.

Getting up from the floor you close your bedroom door triple checking the lock before running over to your desk. Phone in hand you make your way over to your bed climbing under the covers. Your heart is racing the sound of it thumping in your ears.

Opening your cousin message eyes landing on the fatal image you saw earlier. Just the thought of him made you immoral, sinful thoughts plague your mind asking the lord for forgiveness before you’re rolling up your nightgown. You swear you can smell spice and sage as you trace shallow small circles around your clit. God, please forgive me.

What would he think if he saw you like this? Your finger speed up whimpering for the man craving for release. Chest heaving you can imagine him over you, praising you, fondling you. The thought of it all sends you over an intense orgasm strikes through you. Sitting up in your bed throwing your legs to the side you slide down to the floor on your knees and pray for your transgression.

Waking up on Monday morning was dreadful for you. Your body felt heavy and your mind is racing, thoughts of last nights dallying has you shaking you head. I need to get it together. Minister Tomura was a background thought as you went to class. Your day is as normal as it can be taking your exams, thinking about priest tomura, attending office hours with your professors, masturbating in the bathroom to his picture again, volunteering at the homeless shelter, and begging god for forgiveness in your driveway.

Mentally you were falling apart. Laying back in the seat you recount your day. The photo of your very own priest has plagued your mind. You were beyond forgiveness, there is no way you’ll be able to look him in the eye on Sunday. He would call you a pervert. What if your mother found out? The buzzing in your ears seems to increase with every thought. Your chest felt tight breathing becoming ragged and shallow. How could you be so disgusting?

Before you have a chance to spiral again a knock on your window startles you. Reclining your seat forward you see an all familiar cerulean head of hair. The universe seems to be playing a practical joke on you, why would your pastor be in your driveway. “Why are you sitting in the car?” Nope, this is definitely him, and you could hardly stop the disgusting abstractions from popping up. Punishment is due soon for you.

After having a short and awkward conversation with Minister Tomura in the driveway, you both made your way through the front door and towards the dining room. You didn’t even have a chance to ask what he was doing here. What if he knows about the picture? “Oh! Minister! I’m so glad you were able to stop by! Go wash up sweetie, dinner is almost ready.”

Palms sweaty you head up the stairs to your room. Your stomach has a mix of butterflies and ill. After freshening up you put on some comfortable clothes and head downstairs. your ears were practically on fire trying to hear the conversation from the steps. Rounding around the corner met with the eyes of your mother, father, and pastor seated at the dining table. “Hope the party didn’t start without me” letting out a nervous chuckle you take a seat next to Tomura.

The smell of spice and sage dance at the tip of you nose, his smell is intoxicating sitting so close to him makes you want to pounce. Who cares if your parents see. You’d suffer through the embarrassment if it means you can having him buried inside of you. “Did you hear your mother?” snapped out of your daze your eyes dart across the table. “Aah apologies Minister, my child has a tendency to daydream.” you can hear a small chuckle come from the man. It sent chills down your spine.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her like this. She’s so vocal in study, I don’t know what I would do without her.” in that moment you felt like your heart would jump out your chest. There is no way Father Tomura hand is resting on your thigh. You immediately put your hand on top of his offering a small smile. This is the best night ever. Once dinner is over you start clearing the table retreating to the kitchen placing the plates and pots into the soapy water.

The sound of the clanging pots drowns out the sound of your parents and guest laughing. You didn’t even notice a presence behind you until you felt hands on your shoulders. Tilting your head up you’re greeted with a toothy smile. “H-Hello Minister, is there anything you need?” disappointment crashed on you when his hand left your shoulder. “I just wanted to know if you need any help? It would be rude of me not to help my favorite congregant.” You were his favorite? It fell so smooth out of his mouth it made your knees weak

“Of course Father, I would never deny your help. You’re a good man.” You can hardly think straight. Why is he so silent? What if he thinks you’re gross or trying to hit on him? You can feel his slender finger under your chin lifting your head up to meet his eyes. “You think I’m a good man?” small shocks flow through your body, you were hot under his touch. “I do! I think you’re a good man. I’ve seen how you connect with people it’s like you get them not only physically but spiritually an-“ his lips on yours send you into overdrive.

“Thank you for your hospitality and the lovely dinner. I’ll see you at tomorrow night bible study?” turning to you, offering him a small nod, he wishes you and your family a good night. Heading to your room you close and lock the door. You can still feel his lips on yours, you would give everything to him if he asked. Tuesday morning came faster than you thought soon you were out the bed and on your way to work. Tomura being the first and only thing on your mind. Was he thinking about you too? Of course not. He has better things to worry about than some kiss.

It wasn’t just some kiss to you, thoughts about how soft his lips were and how your tongues dances with each other. Recalling how his hand slid around your waist holding the small of your back. His finger no longer under your chin but sliding through your braids. You were on cloud nine. How could he not feel the spark between you two, you belong together. Once you arrived at work your mind shifts between holding meetings and filling complaints out you had no time for distractions.

Only when your workload is complete and you’re in the car the excitement hits you. You have to know what the kiss meant. Your unwavering devotion and desire for him expands beyond the holy gates. He’s all you can dream of, who you touch yourself to — he is truly deserving of worship and praise. Upon arriving to the church you sat in the parking lot for ten minutes asking and pleading with God to lead you on the right path to guide you with strength and compassion.

The horde of teens and kids comes into view once you lift your head up, you were going to need to head in at some point. Exiting the car you make your way to the double oak doors, the moment you step in you notice the empty pews making your way to the back room.

Past the open doorway you have a clear view of an angel. Everything about him is heaven sent, from his slender jawline to his scarred lips. Every inch of him is perfect. “Good evening Minister” it’s so sweet and natural in your mouth your excitement dissipates the moment he opens his mouth. “We’re holding independent group sessions, you have your own. Good luck.” he didn’t even give you a chance to respond leaving you stunned as he sits at the opposite end of the room.

He avoided you the whole night, it felt like your heart was shattering. It’s infuriating. You actually thought he would be interested in you? Now you’re watching him laugh with members of the church. The quicker you can leave the better. Making your way out you exchange pleasantries with familiar faces. Standing right by the door is tomura, greeting him with a smile you ask “Is there something I can help you with father?”

“I hope you’re not leaving we having had our discussion yet.” his unwavering smile made you feel delicate, you didn’t even notice how he stepped forward backing you away from the door. All you want is for him to hold you in his arms and never let go. “No, I was just stepping out for some fresh air.” with a reassuring smile he steps aside holding the door open for you. “Head into my office when you get back, I’ll be done soon.” softly nodding you make your way outside.

Your mind is reeling the only thing that keeps you sane is praying. ‘Heavenly Father, thank You for Your great faithfulness in my life. I choose to flee from lust, because I know You will empower me to follow righteousness, faith, love, and peace with all who call on you out of a pure heart. Amen.’ once your mind is at peace you head inside gunning for the ministers’ office.

You hear the large double doors slam shut and lock the sound of his footsteps down the corridor. The hair on the back of your neck is raising your hands bunching the ends of your dress out of nervousness. Once the door opens he’s apologizing “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Taking a seat in the leather brown chair his arms immediately crossover his chest. “What we did last night was inappropriate. I have to apologize for my transgression” your heart is thumping so hard, if you don’t say something now you’re going to lose him.

“I have a confession father.” lifting his head up to look at you made you neurotic, “I-I haven’t thought about anything else since last night, if I must be frank, I think about you a lot even in the most shameless ways.”. Eyes bouncing between the floor and his gaze, his expression is unreadable a sigh leaving his lips he says “Confess your sins child and I can set you free.” Patting his lap you get out of you seat circling around the amber desk swiveling the massive chair around you find purchase on his thighs. You can feel his slender fingers snaking around your waist palming at your sides breath hot on your ear he whispers “what thoughts have been tormenting your pretty little head?”

All confidence went out the window the moment he spoke those words into your ear, “It’s too embarrassing to say, I don’t want you to think less of me.” The grip he had around your waist tightened “my sweet flower, I could never think ill of you.” planting a kiss behind your ear you body involuntary jolts forward. The friction between his pants and your cotton panties made you melt. God has answered your prayers.

“I touch myself whenever I think about you.” No words left his mouth he only hummed bouncing you on his thigh. Small whines escape you lips, your bodies were so close. He sighed at your naivety “Is that all, those th-“. “Even now as I sit here I can only think about your touch.” your mind is blank the only thing you can focus on is grinding. release is your only concern. The grip he had around your waist tightened halting your climax.

Tears fall from your eyes “I’m so sorry father, I-I didn’t mean to!” overwhelmed with shame and arousal trying to squirm out of his grip. “Don’t be disobedient. Let me take care of you, get rid of impure thoughts” picking you up bridal style he sits you down on his desk. “Lay back for me sweetheart” obeying his command you lay back on the desk holding the end of your dress over your panties.

A low chuckle follows this action your hand jerked away from your dress. “Don’t get shy on me sweetheart. You were just riding my thigh, confessing your sins. You feel no shame.” His words were harsh, but he only spoke the truth. Father Tomura is never wrong. His words were harsh but you knew he would never steer you wrong. “Be a good girl and I’ll make sure these thoughts go away.” standing in between your thighs you can feel his hands sliding up your legs.

Slowly he trailed caressing and massaging every inch of you. His touch is so soft and soothing the butterflies in your stomach, it made you feel loved. Working his way up your panties sliding your underwear off. You don’t see him bundle them up in his pocket as he brings your legs to his shoulders. Tomura bent down swiping his tongue through your slit without warning. Your thighs snapped around his head — your hands attempt to push him off, as the grip he had around your legs tightened he forces your legs open.

“Tomura~ please.” your pleas were null to him. “It’s Father Tomura, if you can’t get it right you won’t get anything at all.” pouting you relax your legs allowing him to dive in between you legs. He was gentle and reassuring at first. Tracing small circle on your clit teasing your hole with his tongue. Whimpers and prayers fall off your tongue fingers tangled in his hair. Tomura could hardly contain himself sucking and pulling at your clit. Tomura wants to see how far you can go, how much he can make you cum.

You were so sensitive, his actions were beyond making you cum. He wants to feel you around his dick moaning and screaming his name. Deciding to speed up the process his finger ghost over your hole trying to get his fingers wet with your slick before easing his fingers into your sopping cunt. His eyes are zoomed on you — he’s watching the way you grab the desk, the spit spilling out the corner of your mouth “Ahh~ Tomura, slow down.”. Completely disregarding your request he continued to pump his finger curling them to hit your sweet spots.

The pressure in you stomach is unbearable you were practically begging him to slow down. Just looking at you made hard. He wants to fuck you into the table, tears rising in your eyes he takes this moment to slide is fingers out and unlatch from your clit. Eyes wide you try to make an escape before he slaps your clit hard. “No! Please!!” all of your tension and shame is washed away letting the pleasure surge through you. You were soaking, wetting the minister and his robe pathetically covering your face with your arms.

The best part about this is he has full view of your cunt clenching around nothing.You’re practically begging for it. Untying his robe let’s it fall to his ankles pulling you to the edge of the desk. His juice soaked hand came up to you face slightly caressing it as he teases your entrance with his tip. His movements were so smooth — one moment he’s leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead, next he’s bullying your cunt with his cock. “Repeat after me, Lord, forgive me for I have sinned before you. Wash away my sin, purify me, and help me to turn from this sin.”

Your eyelids were heavy you reaching for something maybe some solace from his dick kissing you cervix. Eyes fluttering open you can see the furrow of his, the stern look he is giving you reminds you that silence wasn’t an option. His hand rose again coming down on your clit with force. A squeal erupts from you as your hips jolt forward, breathlessly you recite the prayer “Lord, f-forgive me for I have sinned before you. Aah~ wash away my sin, purify me, and help me to turn from this sin.”. The way your cunt is convulsing around his dick makes him feel invincible. The sounds you’re making alone sends him over. He’s only focused on release.

His dick jumped at the thought of desperate inexperienced girls opening their legs for him. You were the perfect vision of sin. “Father Tomura~ I can’t hand-“ you words cut off by his lips smashing onto yours. “Just push a little hard for me sweetheart, I know you can do it. Look at how easy you’re taking me right now” you response were incoherent and thats exactly how he wants you. His groans made the tensity in your womb crack. You wrap your arms around his shoulder and tighten your legs around his waist.

His kisses and stormed become messy and deep, it felt his smell is suffocating you. He wants to absorb everything you have. Feeling the way your cunt is fluttering and gushing around him it’s begging to be filled and defiled. “You’re such a good girl, I’m going give you a reward. A present from god.” Burying his head in the crook of your neck satisfaction is all you felt. Your orgasm takes a new form within you, nails digging into his back your hips are fucking into him chasing, pleading for relief.

His pace is brutal the thought of filling your lewd cunt made his mouth water. Drool coaxing the side of your neck a low growl causing your body to shake “cum f’me sweetheart~”. Fireworks exploded through your body, you can hardly formulate words as squirt cover both your abdomens. The corners of your eyes succumb to darkness as Father Tomura restlessly pounds into you. His teeth engrave your neck, praises and apologies fall off his tongue, “M’gonna fill you up. You’re such a good girl, squeezing my dick like this. M’gonna give you what you want”.

His grip is shaky the twitch of his dick is evident, he’s hooked your legs around his arms deepening the position. Tomura felt pure bliss being buried in you, his mind was hazy, the once relentless pace faltering as he fills you up. The only sounds in the room were shallow breaths, lifting his head you expecting pure joy across his face. Disgust. “You’re so disappointing. I thought you were better than this.” As he let your legs sliding out of you, he continued his verbal assault. “You seduced a holy man and allow a man who isn’t your husband taint you.”

The room feels cold. You rose quickly reaching out for him catching his arm. “I’m sorry father! I am disappointing! I-I can be better, I can do better! Snatching away from you he rounds his desk sitting in his chair, almost instinctively you were in front of him on your knees. One of his hands gently grasp the side of your face. Wiping the tears from your eyes. “Show me.”.

[bunicate]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒉 . al haitham x fem reader

warnings ꒱ྀི blowjob. kaveh is hinted to have a crush on you :c ﾉ wc ꒱ 1.5k ﾉ 18+

a string of expletives tumbles from the back of his throat, followed by a deep groan akin to a growl.

there’s a slight pain wracking through his body from his fingernails biting into the hardwood desk — as well as the jagged edge that pokes his back, but he remains still. if he moved even an inch, he’d lose focus.

al haitham felt as if celestia was within his reach, like he could part the clouds himself if he wished. the pleasure elevated him past his ever-thinning threshold of patience— so much that he’s almost able to ignore the week he’s had as the acting grand sage. 

his new title, temporary but nonetheless, his responsibility, and just like that al haitham has to come back down to earth, just for a little.

though his head runs in circles, he has to ground himself. he has to remember where he is, who he is, and that he cannot let his guard down completely. 

after all, it's vastly inappropriate to have his girlfriend on her knees and give in to the blinding warmth generated by the stickiness of her tongue.

but the slow lift and come down of your mouth, each suck pulling him closer to the imaginary edge, made it too simple to drift off far away in the back of his thoughts. 

his balls are warm and plump waiting to be emptied, and when you involuntarily swallow when they tap your chin, al haitham has a full body shudder. his abdomen is tight and tense, preparing for the sudden flash of heat and pleasure that would soon engulf him. 

he’s just a corner away from pumping your throat with his load. just a few more deep and sloppy thrusts of his hips until the chase was over, and then maybe he could get through the rest of the day in higher hopes.

but of course, like the easily distracted creature you are, you unceremoniously paused in the midst of your ministrations. you suckle around him for a brief second and look up in curiosity. 

his hips jerk, trying to find purchase in the back of your throat once more, but you remove that sweet little mouth from his cock.

an audible and wet shlick as you depart from his member, and his dick bobs up and down, spit leaking from his pink head. 

it takes a moment for al haitham to catch himself.

“what is it ?”

he looks down and sees your glittery eyes and a string of spit hanging from your mouth that he can’t ignore—runny drops of his semen dangle from your bottom lip. your dark lashes and eyes big and innocent as a hare could almost dissipate his slight frustration, but your precious fucking face makes him harder. now he misses the warmth of your mouth even more. 

“haithy, don’t we have a reservation for heaven’s night ? what time is it?” you trail off, eyes searching for the grandfather clock tucked in the corner of the wall. 

you squint. half past 4. you gasp.

“oh no, kaveh is gonna be so upset. he doesn’t like it when we’re late.” you shift to rest your bottom on your heels and al haitham sighs.

it’s hard to think when his aching cock was in front of your face, but at the mention of his roommate's name, he grimaces. 

“we have time,” he says coolly, “and kaveh is always aggravated no matter what.”

he rubs your cheek before dragging his hand to the back of your head. licking his lips, he gently pushes you toward his groin. the pants of air on his cock make it twitch from the warm breeze. his eyes twinkle once more at the sight of your plump lips ready to enclose around his shaft. . . until you pull away. again.

“aww. . don’t be mean, haithy. I wouldn’t say that he’s aggravated. I actually find him to be more passionate if anything .”

he huffs. 

al haitham wants you to, just this once, stop talking, but you don’t seem to understand his plight despite it being right in front of you. 

throbbing. 

and wet. 

your mouth moves, but he’s barely listening and still you keep going, rambling about kaveh. all he could think about was using your mouth for something else. 

he had to interject. if he didn’t, he’s more than certain you’d keep going, and he couldn’t have that when you robbed him of his orgasm.

he motions to speak, hoping it will end your little chatters. 

“there’s a thin line between passion and aggression, and he crosses it. every time,” he punctuates.

“and kaveh is infatuated with you. he just wants to go out to dinner with us so he can delude himself into thinking he’s on a date with you, while he just ignores me the entire time.” 

you make a sudden squeal and open your mouth to protest such a claim, but he cuts you off before you even start.

“and I don't care what kaveh thinks. you're my girlfriend, yeah? so stop talking about him.”

your lips stretch into a pout at his bluntness, and your cheeks flare up. the whirs in your brain twist and clank and you feel . . . embarrassed all of a sudden.

infatuation? 

such a strong word, and yet al haitham didn’t seem bothered by that revelation. slightly contemptuous, sure, but not at all upset.

“ w-what do you mean? he’s not infatuated—“ you stutter, and you whisper the last word in utter disbelief but your boyfriend only reaches for you. 

“shhh.” he places a steady palm on your head to urge you closer. molded together like a puzzle piece, you melt into his touch— your fussiness already a thing of the past. 

you open your mouth obediently. your tongue twirls around before flipping out, waiting for him.

“uh-huh. just like that.”

he grabs his cock and strokes it, rotating his hand around the tip with a tight grip. he’s getting off to your dazed and erotic expression, squeezing just under the head. all he needs to do is bring his hips a little forward. more cum beads, a transparent white, and he wants to see dance on your tongue. 

he slowly inches to your awaiting mouth until —

"wait . . .” you whine. 

al haitham lets out a long exhale, cursing silently. his eyes sharpen and the grip on your head tightens, gently pulling on loose strands of your hair that slipped out of your ponytail 

"what is it now, my love?" 

such a delicate choice of praise, but you can feel the frustration through his fingertips 

you giggle at his clear agitation.

"im sorry for being so annoying and. . . i love you.” 

it’s not like you meant to be such a bother, but you can’t help that your brain just wanders and your mouth just babbles. but it’s what he liked the most about you. a mind with boundless thoughts and imagination. there’s just something about an innocent curiosity untainted by the ruins of the world that he found so alluring.

al haitham dryly chuckles and the corner of his lips upturned into a smirk 

“never apologize.”

he traces the outline of your lips with his thumb before pressing on it. “and I love you too.”

you give him a wide and sweet smile and just as you acknowledge his affirmation, your mouth is already pressed against his pelvis, his cock lodged inside your throat.

he humps your mouth—fucks it like he’s using your cunt. your cute and choked gags around him send him into a frenzy. his arm bulges with lean muscle as he drags your head up and down his thick cock like you were a little dolly. your eyes cross at the display of dominance. 

"you're cute like this, you know. “the wetness from his thrusts are nearly deafening. “—with my cock in your mouth.”

his hand strokes your throat, caressing his bulging shaft from the outside as if to say, ‘feel that?’. It's obscene, he’s obscene, and it renders you into nothing but a frilly pliant mess. 

“as much as I love hearing you speak, I like it when you listen too.” 

in between your thighs are sticky as he uses you to his own completion. his tip hits the back of your throat and you were sure you’d feel it tomorrow . “— your mouth — looks so small on my cock.”

he’s enamored by the view. your hands lay flat on your lap and feet tucked under your butt. 

audible sounds of his flesh sliding over your tongue, caressing thin veins and folds of skin fill the office. he rubs your scalp, and you moan, sending vibrations through his body. 

“stay still for me.” 

and you do. you know that’s going to occur. a rush of anxiety came down knowing it was only a matter of seconds before his release.

you straighten your posture and do your best to not move. the scribe’s bottom half twitches against your mouth, and you welcome the thick spurts that warm your throat. you gulp down his cum like it was a sugary milky treat, tasting every drop and a surge of arousal rushes through you.

nose mushed against his tummy, you look up and meet his needy stare. you can smell his scent — sweaty mixed with a vanilla amber, and his eyes flicker between yours and the mouth that swallowed his entire cock. the tension is palpable as he stares at you with a hungry desire that even surprises you.

and as for your reward, he pats your head. 

“good pup.”

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。WONDER — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. fluff, mentions of al-haitham’s grandmother, hints at sensory sensitivities (neurodivergent al-haitham is canon to me), just thinking ab al-haitham perhaps not liking being grand sage at all but nothing is ever that bad as long as he has you, y’know?

“hey,” you murmur, sitting next to al-haitham. he hums, watching from the corner of his eye as you settle down. “kaveh said you’d be here. mind if i join?”

“no,” he mumbles, “never. as long as you didn’t bring kaveh.”

“i didn’t,” you roll your eyes, smiling.

al-haitham has come here since he was young—by the docks of sumeru city at night, feet dangling over the water. the first few times, grandmother had scolded him when he’d return—by the fifth, she’d resigned to letting him run off. it’s quiet—it’s still and peaceful, but not lifeless. for a while, it used to be a spot for him to just read. after some time, it becomes the one place he can relax when even being home is not enough to calm him.

“rough day?” you ask gently, rubbing over goosebumps on his exposed arm. his cloak keeps the other warm, safe from the night breeze as you sit by the water.

“yeah i guess,” he mumbles, “just overwhelming.”

“these didn’t help?” you ask sympathetically, tapping on the ear pieces over his head. he shakes his head, sighing as your fingers slip into his hair, stroking through the locks gently.

“couldn’t turn them on for most of the day anyway,” he mumbles, “had too many people coming up to me.”

“grand sage life’s not treating you well, huh?”

“not in the slightest,” he snorts—but it ends in a scoff, and there’s not much humor in his voice.

“well, you’re doing a good job,” you lean and kiss his jaw, hugging his arm, “for what it’s worth.”

“i didn’t want to take it,” he mumbles, “but no one’s qualified for the position right now. i didn’t….i can’t let anything happen again.”

al-haitham is kind—most people miss it. you can tell from the way he finds remorse in the way life is so complicated in sumeru, in the way most people can’t find peace even when they try. so he takes up the offer, even when he doesn’t want to—just so life doesn’t have to be even more complicated, even if just for a bit.

truthfully, you don’t think there’s anyone more capable of being grand sage than al-haitham. in fact, you think it’d be safest if it was him. but you also don’t think he could do it for too long, not when he hates it—the responsibility, the pressure, the authority. grandmother has always warned al-haitham of people who try to take advantage of the brilliant, of the burdens that come with being different.

it’s a gift, she’d tell him, but all gifts come with a cost. so he keeps a simple life, stays to himself and does nothing more than he needs to. it’s better that way, he realizes—but even so, he could never turn away when he’s needed, especially not when the whole nation is ready to crumble.

“you’ll find someone soon,” you hum, hand rubbing slow circles into his chest, “and then you’ll get demoted to scribe again. don’t worry, i’ll still love you the same.”

“because my salary will remain?” he teases lightly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—the first smile of the day, but not the last.

al-haitham trusts you with that—with making sure he smiles at least once a day, with making sure he falls asleep with a smile at the end of every night.

“well, as much as i love grand sage salary,” you chuckle, “i love you more—at least, i think,” you add the last part with a playful nudge. he laughs softly—the first laugh of the day. even if the laughter comes late, there’s something peaceful about ending the day that way.

maybe it’s not so bad, he thinks, maybe nothing is so bad when he has you to come back to before the moon leaves and takes the stars with her. as long as he ends the night with you, he supposes he doesn’t mind starting a new day all over again, even when it comes with new troubles.

“you only think you love me?” he asks, biting back an amused smile.

you shoot him an easy grin, “well, love is fickle, grand sage,” you tease, “who knows what it is for sure?”

it’s easy, you think quietly—it’s easy to define what it falling in love is like when al-haitham sits next to you, when he drapes his cloak over you, when you feel his heart beat under your palm, when you can see the tension ease from his shoulders the more he sits with you.

it’s always been easy, like it comes and goes as second nature.

“you know,” he says quietly, after a few moments, “when i was young, i asked grandmother what it felt like to be in love.”

you hum, staring at your feet as they dangle over the water, tapping your foot against his. he taps back, making you grin to yourself softly.

“oh really?” you raise a brow, “you thought about other things besides books as a kid?”

“i read all kinds of books,” he defends, “it’s good to be well rounded. i enjoy a romance here and there. besides, everyone wonders at one point,” he adds, “didn’t you?”

you smile at the thought of al-haitham reading something romantic, giggling quietly as your hand grabs his and weaves your fingers together. “i suppose i did wonder, yes. what’d she say?”

“she said i’d figure it out when i do fall in love,” he chuckles, “i wasn’t too happy with that answer.”

“i can imagine,” you say in amusement. “well? have you found your answer yet?”

he thinks for a moment, pondering if he has. he thinks about how he waits to have lunch late every day just to have it with you, how even with an empty stomach, he feels full to the brim when he sits down with you. he thinks about how he walks the long way home just to buy those sweets you like, how even if he’s tired, he’s never felt more alive than when you smile. he thinks about how he’s cold right now, how even when the cool air stings his skin, nothing is as cold as the way your touch is warm.

if love doesn’t feel like you, then al-haitham is inclined to believe he’s not made for love. it must to be you, he thinks, how could it not be?

“i think so,” he nods, squeezing your fingers with his.

“then do share, grand sage al-haitham,” you tap your foot against his again, swinging your legs as you shuffle closer to him. “what does it feel like to be in love?”

he turns, leaning down and stealing a soft, chaste kiss against your lips. “like that,” he grins, “wouldn’t you agree?”

i’m down so horrendously and embarrassingly bad for this guy what the fuck

[phantom-0-writer]

what even is your life danny?

Danny had been shocked awake by Adam practically breaking down the door to Wes’s room as he barged in. “Wake up!” He yelled frantically. 

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked, sitting up at the thought of a ghost attack. 

“Wha-” Wes asked, bleary-eyed from his side of the bed, drool still wet on his mouth. Adam in all his everlasting energy, practically pushed Wes off the bed, making room for himself. 

“Y’know Nightwing’s recent case-” He started excitedly before turning around to face the two of them, his voice more serious, “You know about it, right?” Adam asked. When they both nodded- as if Tucker would have let them go this long not knowing about it- Adam continued in his original energy. “They finally released the names of all the kids that got switched.” Adam started in the same excitement someone would announce they won the lottery in a hallmark movie. “They made this mini-identity check thing, since, y’know it counts as personal medical history, and it legally can’t be free access to the public. It’s actually quite ingenious- yet simple.” Adam’s voice began trailing on the edge of mystification before snapping back to his original energy. “I thought we’d all give it a shot to see if any of us qualify!” He ended happily. 

“Dude, how can you have so much energy so early in the morning,” Wes asked, bundling himself in his blanket, his voice heavy in a sleepy drawl even though he looked much more awake now. 

“It’s 1:30. Regular people like me have been up for hours now,” Adam responded snottily, shoving a hand in his younger brother’s face.  “Also Danny, your phone’s been going crazy all morning. You left it on the couch last night.” Adam said, handing the device to Danny.

“Who was it?” Wes asked, looking over at him. 

“My parents,” Danny put the phone on speaker. Two rings echoed in the still anticipation of the room before the familiar voice of his mom came through the other end. “Hi, sweetie!” She said happily, “Did you just wake up?” 

“Oh, uh Yeah. I did. I was-”

“We got a call this morning and you’d never believe who it was.” Mom started, her voice only marginally louder than the loud work of whatever she was doing. “The FBI! Can you believe it? They said you were one of the children involved with Dr. Kilye’s case-” 

Danny looked up to share a look of shock with Adam and Wes, jaws loose, having pierced the puzzle together. 

“-Apparently the child they swapped you with, mine and Jack’s biological child, had been born with an undiagnosable fatal condition, and hadn’t been able to make it. His name was… Philip. We were quite sad about the news.” The sound of the drill echoed through the room. “But apparently the agent- the FBI agent!- had already talked to your biological parents - you know Jack and I always wondered who it was you took after, and I thought it was my Great Aunt Sally, but Jack always said his late Uncle Bob. Oh right, what was I saying? Oh! Your parents- right! They seemed pretty eager to meet you. Or at least your father, I think -or was it your mother, I can’t remember. The other one went missing a while after you were born. I don’t remember all the details. I sent you the phone number they gave me, I figured you’d want to talk to her.” And before Danny could even get a word out she hung up. 

There was a palpable silence, “I’ll make us some food,” Adam said, being the first to leave his spot. 

Wes jumped up instantly at the declaration, “No!” 

“How about I make us some food.” Danny offered, making his way to the kitchen.

“Yes, that is the better option.” Wes nodded sagely, plopping onto the barstool as Danny took inventory. Adam hauled himself onto the counter, letting his long legs dangle right above the floor as he watched Danny cook. 

“You got your bio mom’s number, right? Are you gonna talk to her?” Adam asked his hyper attitude from the morning replaced with a still-eager yet more restrained and slightly somber one. 

Danny let himself consider it before responding. “I don’t even know her name or anything though. What would I even say?” 

“We could look it up on the thing Adam was tellin’ us about.” Wes offered. “I’ll grab my laptop.”

“Your call,” Adam added. 

“Yeah… I think that’d be good.” Danny looked up from the food he was preparing, “Thanks, guys. I dunno how I would’ve taken this without you.” He smiled softly. 

“You’re the one cooking for us, man. We should thank you.” Adam laughed. Plates wiped clean and in the sink, they all huddled around Wes’s laptop as Danny put his information to the FBI’s server. 

“Dude,” Wes gasped reading the file, placing his hand on Danny’s shoulder as he leaned in closer from behind him.

“Your dad-” Adam spluttered, “Your dad is Bruce Wayne?” He practically yelled, turning to look at Danny for confirmation. As if he had any idea what was going on. “Bruce Wayne.” He said, again amazed. 

“What even is your life Danny?” 

“Did my mom just casually send me Bruce Wayne’s personal phone number?”

“Tucker’s so going to lose his mind.”

except from regular boy: daniel wayne (chap 6)

[moonstruckme]

happy 7k mae! i absolutely love your writing 🥹 can i request an apple pie with lily + prompt 28? please and thank you! 🩷

Thank you for requesting angel <3

²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek

cw: alcohol

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 597 words

You find Lily curled up in the corner of Sirius’ couch, smiley and sparkly-eyed with a drink in her hand. She’s looking especially lovely in a satiny dress and darker-than-usual makeup, her hair spilled elegantly over one shoulder. Sirius had insisted this be more than a casual gathering, because he was inviting his new work friends and if you lot make me look bad, I’ll have no choice but to abandon you for them. 

It’s devolved into a casual gathering nonetheless, Sirius’ coworkers less pompous than you expected them to be and James Potter of course bouncing about the room spreading charm like a drug and making everyone feel at ease. This means you can arrive an hour late, and Sirius doesn’t so much as cut you a look from across the room.

Your girlfriend smiles as you sit down next to her, turning away from a conversation with Mary and Alice. “Hello.” 

“Hi.” You take her drink, swirling it in the conical glass. “What’s this?”

“It’s a passionfruit martini.” She raises her eyebrows at you. 

You raise yours in turn. “Fancy. He’s really trying to impress.” 

Lily nods sagely. “I think he’s nervous,” she whispers, like it’s a conspiracy. “Isn’t it cute?” 

You laugh, taking a tentative sip. “Ooh, it’s good.” 

“Isn’t it?” She leans towards you, her knees falling across your thighs, and kisses your cheek. “I’m glad you could make it.” 

Me too, you’re about to say, but as Lily backs away from you her lips part, the corners tilting up almost unwillingly. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“Sorry.” She looks sheepish, taking your face in her hand to rub her thumb over your cheek. “I’ve gotten lipstick on you.” 

“Oh, that’s okay.” You tilt your face to give her easier access, though you really don’t mind. Lily’s wearing a dark lip color, one you’ve seen before but only on special occasions. It makes her mouth look pretty and alluring. If there’s physical evidence that your face has been kissed by that mouth, that’s not something you mind at all. 

“Oh no.” She’s giggling, the sound light and fizzy like champagne. Her eyes are creased at the corners. “It’s only smearing.” 

“I don’t care,” you reassure her. But your girlfriend’s getting practically in your lap, and you’d never deny her that, her tongue peeking out of her mouth as she tries to wipe it off on the backs of her fingers. You feel your cheek squish upwards.

“This is what I get for trying to be daring. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she laughs. Her hair falls like a curtain between your shoulders. “Alright, it’s not coming off, but I think I can pass it off as blush. Do you mind?” 

“Go ahead.” You’re more than happy to simply look at her as she works, clever green eyes squinting with concentration, then with warmth when she notices you staring. “We’ll be kind of matching, now, won’t we. In a subtle way.” 

“Quite subtle,” she agrees. “This color really suits you, actually.” 

“Not as much as it suits you, I bet.” 

You’re not trying to be smooth, but it’s the earnestness in your voice that makes Lily smile. She looks like she’s going to kiss you again, then thinks the better of it. You’re sorely disappointed. 

“You know,” you say, looking at her hopefully, “if we’re trying to pass it off as blush, I could probably use some on the other side too. For even application.” 

Lily’s smile grows, almost as flirtatious as it is plain fond. “Really good point. You’re so brilliant.” 

She kisses you on your other cheek.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 11 - Cover up the blank spots

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, nobody really having a great time.

Me again! Thanks for the wonderful response to last chapter. Bucky is still an idiot I’m sorry to say…but he’s getting there.

As always thank-you for the lovely reblogs and comments, it makes my day reading them!

As the door slammed loudly behind you, the group stood in silence looking at Bucky as he just stared back at the exit where you’d just been. The many sets of eyes on him seemed to snap him out of it, he snarled and turned to them.

“Well? We’re closed. Why are you all still here?”

The group blanched but glanced at each other. They seemed to be battling with obeying an order from their President but also wanting to speak up. Amber and the girls took that as their cue, grabbing their things and scattering out of the bar. Amber scowled at Bucky as she left, which he pointedly ignored.

Bucky continued to glare questioningly at the group before Steve finally cleared his throat and spoke, “I don’t think she did it, Buck”.

Steve crouched down and began to pick up the discarded notes you had flung at Bucky. He gathered them all into a pile and shuffled them against the bar to straighten them into a neat bundle.

“I don’t think she did either,” Nat spat as she pointed an accusatory, manicured finger at Bucky. “And that was really fucked up, reading her the riot act in front of everybody like that. At least confront her privately”.

There was a quiet murmur from the others, seemingly in agreement.

Bucky glowered at Nat, “Watch your tone, Romanoff” he warned. He didn’t like to pull rank but he didn’t like his authority being disrespected by members, either.

She held up her hands defensively, but her voice softened, “Okay – I’m sorry. I’m not trying to disrespect you here, but you always say we can speak freely, and that this isn’t a dictatorship. Right?”

He frowned but nodded reluctantly.

“Well…I don’t think she did it,” Nat continued. “I don’t think she’s so hard up for money that she needs to steal 170 bucks or whatever. I’ve seen her make that in tips on a big night! And even if she was stealing, she’s not dumb enough to take it all outta the register at once. And then leave it in her purse! She’s worked in bars for years, she knows receipts are checked against takings. She knows you count the cash every night and it would’ve immediately shown up”.

Bucky put one hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair. His tone was still firm, but he looked visibly stressed, “So, what, she just happens to be carrying around a wad of bills that are about the same amount that we’re missing?”

Steve sighed. “I agree with Nat, she looked genuinely shocked to be accused. And she’s not stupid. If she was gonna steal I think she’d skim small amounts off the top so we don’t notice. And this,” he held up the cash, “I think she was telling the truth about it being her grandma’s money, its kinda musty and old, like it’s been stored somewhere a while, it doesn’t feel or smell like the rest of the bills in the register. It tracks that she found it in her stashed in her nanna’s house or whatever”.

“Old lady money,” Peter nodded sagely.

The others all looked at him for a second.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright…everybody out, now, except Steve and Sam”.

They followed his lead and dispersed as they mumbled their goodbyes, the thundering roar of motorcycles ringing out as they peeled out of the parking lot just moments later. Bucky could feel their disapproving gazes on him as they left, the guilt swimming in his stomach as he started to think about what he’d done. 

“Fuck…” muttered Bucky. He frowned and rubbed his temples with his thumb and little finger.

“Why’d you check her bag in the first place, man?” Sam asked, “clearly you had suspicions about her if you went through her stuff”.

Bucky frowned, “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I wasn’t even thinking that the money was stolen…or that she would’ve stolen it…I just saw her purse in the office and…just sort of found myself picking it up without even really knowing why. And just as I was feeling like a total asshole and about to put it back, I saw the cash. And I saw red…I was so angry, so…hurt…that she could do something like that to me…to all of us when we’ve accepted her into the group…I didn’t really think I just-”

He winced, his head falling into his hands.

“Fuck”, was all he said.

“That was messed up,” Sam told him firmly.

“I know…fuck…I fucked up, bad”.

Steve clamped a hand onto his old friend’s back, giving him a reassuring pat. “Do you think part of the reason you had such a strong reaction is because you’re sleeping together, and when you thought she’d done that, it felt more personal?”

Bucky blanched, “wait, we’re not…”

“C’mon man, we’re not blind,” Sam chuckled.

Bucky looked guiltily between his two friends, immediately dropping the charade, “is it that obvious?”

Sam just grinned, “It wasn’t. But I saw you grab her ass earlier”.

Bucky groaned.

“You’re not that obvious. Mostly,” Steve explained matter-of-factly, “but I’ve seen the secret looks. The way you’re always touching her. The weird vibe the two of you have, with your little fights and what-not. There’s clear chemistry there. I don’t think the others have caught up yet, though”.

Bucky grimaced then rolled his eyes.

“You’re too damn good at your job…” he growled, but then softened as he considered Steve’s words.

“And yeah…I guess I felt…betrayed…when I thought she’d stolen. It was like she’d stolen from me. I just got so mad thinking about how she could be so sweet to my face but do that to me…but I shouldn’t have gone through her bag…I shouldn’t have yelled at her like that…in front of everyone…shouldn’t have been an asshole”.

Sam and Steve nodded in agreement.

He groaned, “fuck. What a fucking mess. What’s going on? I’m falling apart here…this isn’t like me at all”.

Steve and Sam shared a heavy look.

“You need to fix it,” Steve told him.

“I don’t know if I can…I really hurt her”.

“You need to try, at least. And you owe her a grovelling apology”, said Sam.

“Yeah. She’s a nice gal. And she’s also the best bartender we got,” Steve advised pragmatically as he pulled out his phone and began tapping away at it.

“And we need to figure out what happened to that money,” Sam added.

“Maybe we did fuck up the numbers somehow and we weren’t light? But I checked…so did Steve-,” Bucky pondered.

Steve suddenly started to wave his phone in the air.

“Mm. Well, just call me Poirot I guess…” he said without looking up from his screen.

Bucky and Sam exchanged a puzzled look before leaning over to see what Steve was looking at.

He was logged into the bar’s Instagram page, flicking through the stories that customers had tagged the bar in that night. Between the drunken selfies and silly filters, Steve stopped on a video of the bachelor party from earlier – the men singing tunelessly and belly laughing as they swayed in front of the bar, their knees buckling as they leaned against it.

“Drunk guys. So what? What am I looking at here?” Bucky muttered.

Steve held his finger on the screen as Sam and Bucky leaned closer. Behind the partygoers, clear as day, the cameraperson had inadvertently caught Tom the bartender quite literally with his hand in the register – quickly shovelling a wad of bills into his pocket before turning to pick up some discarded glasses. It was fast, but unmistakeable.

Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides.

“That sonofa…”

*

You had managed to drive home without crashing the car, which was no mean feat considering what a mess your head was currently in. But you were also weirdly numb, driving almost on autopilot as muscle memory got you back home.

You were humiliated. Embarrassed. Angry. Devastated. You felt too many things to count, your emotions so overwhelming that you’d short circuited. You couldn’t believe Bucky would do that to you, in front of everyone, that he thought so little of you that he assumed you were a thief – even digging through your private things without a moment’s hesitation.

At least, thank God, you hadn’t already shared your true feelings for him. How stupid you were! You were gearing yourself for your big movie moment while he’d written you off as a lying crook! You felt ashamed you’d allowed yourself to be so caught up in him, to let your body be enjoyed by a man who clearly had so little respect for you. You must’ve been an easy mark for him, the stupid temp bartender who was so easily bedded with a few nice words.

You trudged inside, methodically changing into your pyjamas and getting ready for bed. You kept replaying the MC’s pitying eyes in your head over and over, screwing up your face as you re-lived in the embarrassment in real time. You could see the rage on Bucky’s face, the face of the intimidating MC President, not the tender man who kissed your forehead when he thought you’d fallen asleep on the couch.

Tomorrow, you would allow yourself exactly one day to wallow: a day of take-out, crying and bad movies. And then that would be it. After tomorrow you’d get going again. You’d drop off Granny’s donation to the shelter (well…your donation now). You’d finish the DIY. Fix the damn fence. You’d call the realtor and get the house valued, get it on the market and start taking viewings. You’d start making plans for your next move, call up some old job leads, start looking at apartment listings in new cities. Or maybe you’d take a chunk of the money from the house sale and go on a fancy ass vacation like Granny would’ve wanted.

As you get into bed, you close your eyes and visualise a brief fantasy…

…boarding everything up and leaving early in the morning, zipping away in Sally to your next adventure as you look back wistfully at the house. Mere seconds later, Bucky turns up to your door, flowers in hand, when he’s learned the truth about the money. He falls to his knees as he realises you’re gone forever, he’s too late! Sobbing and wailing, crying out your name as it begins to pour with rain and-

Okay. Maybe a little dramatic. But it was your fantasy.

A loud knock at the door tears you from your thoughts. You frown, having a good idea who it might be…

“Sugar…open up, it’s me,” Bucky calls through your door, his tone sheepish and contrite. “Please…”

Part of you is tempted to stay in bed and let him stew, but you’re unable to contain how angry you feel, so you stomp down the stairs and swing open the front door.

He looks surprised, then relieved, that you actually answered. Standing on the doorstep in his kutte, he somehow appears drastically more tired and weary than he did just an hour ago, there’s an expression anguish on his face you’ve never seen before – and the beginnings of bags tease under his wide eyes.

No flowers though.

“Sugar…thank god…look, I’m so sorry, I fucked up, I really fucked up…”, he babbles as he reaches for you, “I know it wasn’t you. It was Tom. We’re dealing with him now. Oh Jesus, Sug, I messed up, I don’t know what I was thinking…I shouldn’t have touched your bag. I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have accused you…”

Part of your resolve wobbles at his direct display of vulnerability. This is what you wanted, an apology, vindication, and humility.

But it’s all too fresh. And your pain is so raw.

 You step away from him, and he visibly wilts. You are unmoved.

“Save it,” you spit.

He pales but stays quiet.

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear any of it. Just like you didn’t want to hear it at the bar. You said everything you needed to back there. And of course it was Tom, only an idiot couldn’t see that,” you sneer angrily. “Now, get the fuck away from my property, or I’ll call the police”.

You go to slam the door, pausing at the last second as you meet his gaze.

“I just…I can’t believe you’d think that of me,” you tell him, your voice cracking slightly, “that you would think…that I’d do that to you”.

He tries to speak but the door slams in his face, and you’re grateful your tears wait until you get upstairs before they shed. You hear a small thud and his motorcycle roaring to life just a few moments later.

You sigh, picking up your phone. You scroll through to messages and bring up the one from Peter you received earlier.

As you compose a response, an envelope has been slid under your front door. It lays on the doormat at an angle. $175 sits inside, along with your final paycheck and tips. Scribbled on the front reads a single phrase.

I’m sorry.

*

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Hi there if possible could we get a Monkey reborn where he is Jealous please?<3

Reborn!Wukong: Jealous.

Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A.

Authors Notes: I think that Reborn Wukong is the most easily jealous out of the four Wukongs that I'm going to write. Make this before the movie. Definitely will be making a fluff taking place after the movie and involving Fruitie. Enjoy!

<---Previous | Start | Next--->

He couldn't help it. He was just… naturally territorial, especially when it came to you. In his defence, though… How dare that bastard even look at you like that? How exactly? With his eyes. That punk that ran the Inn you all were resting at for the past three days had no right to look at his goddess or have the audacity to openly flirt with you in front of him. 

Since you all checked in, whatever his name was had continuously given you the sweet eye, but you either didn't notice it or didn't care. In Wukong’s mind, your innocently pure soul didn't see it, since you didn't.stop.talking to what's his face. He wasn't anything to look at really, Wukong was taller than him and compared to the Monkey King, the human was a twig, and that was saying something.

I could take him out easily. He thought to himself as he watched with narrowed eyes as you spoke with the male with Wujing. His punishments would be limited considering his master already went to bed, so the only thing he had to worry about was your wrath. Sun Wukong, The Great Sage Equal To Heaven, the Monkey King, the Demon King… couldn't stop himself from boiling over with pure jealousy at the fact of human male audacity.

“(Y/n), can I talk to you for a second?” He asked through gritted teeth as he tried to remain calm. 

“In a sec,” 

You should've taken this as a sign, but the conversation with the mysterious stranger was too exciting, you didn't see the signs. The poor Demon King was seething and on the verge of dragging you away by force, but he knew better than to do that. 

“(Y/n),” he once again tried to get your attention. 

“Can't you see we’re talking?” the male looked at Wukong in slight annoyance, yet you still didn't see the red flags… not till it was too late. 

“Wukong!” you scolded and were about to run over to check on the poor guy who was kicked through three trees, but Wukong grabbed you by the arm and dragged you away. “Wukong, listen to me!”

“No, you listen!” he finally snapped as he turned to look at you. “I don't know if you realized this, (Y/n), but you're mine,”

“I know that,” you always got so flustered when he reminded you of that fact, especially when he said it in that growl that gave you goosebumps.

“That punk was flirting with you, and you let him!”

“What are you talking about? He wasn't flirting with me,” You were kinda oblivious to others flirting, getting used to Wukong being the only one to flirt with you. He sighed heavily and turned away from her. 

I should've known… He thought to himself. 

“It was obvious to everyone that he’s been flirting with you since we got to this piece of shit temple.”

“C'mon, Sunny, that's not nice,” you said and got him to release you.

That wasn't true… was it? You really did think he got a bit too comfortable with you, but you just thought he was being hospitable to a travelling guest… apparently, not everyone saw it that way.

In all honesty, since you started dating Wukong a little over a year ago, the advances of other men seemed to naturally filter out of your head. You only saw Wukong in that light, there was only him for you and you for him. Of course, he knew this, but he has had too many restless nights about some human man taking you away from him.

“What the hell was that for?!” The human looked at the Demon King with narrowed eyes as he stormed back over holding his arm. 

“You're getting too comfortable with my woman,” he snarled as he got in the male’s face. “So I gave you a light warning.”

“Light? You almost killed me!”

“But I didn't,” he tilted his head slightly. “Is that little body so weak it can't withstand a little kick?” he raised a brow slightly.

“Okay,” you immediately got between the two to avoid your boyfriend giving the male any more ‘gentle warnings’. “That's enough.”

“I'm just talking,” he looked at you with a much gentler expression. He turned back to the human male with a glare when he scoffed in disgust at the new information. Wukong’s manly instinct was right, the bastard was just trying his hand to bed you. 

“You're actually with this hairy demon?” he looked at you in scorn. 

“Pardon?” you couldn't help but question him. 

“I didn't think a beautiful girl like you would degrade yourself being with an unwanted mongrel-” Wukong's mouth opened slightly in shock as he looked from the male you'd just punched to you. 

“You better not dare speak ill of him ever again,” you warned, giving the man a menacing glare that pleased and made the Monkey King smirk at you. He could kiss you at that very moment. “Unwanted mongrel? He's mine. He may be a demon, but he is more wanted and loved than you could ever dream, and with a personality like yours, I understand why you're single.”

He'd never thought it possible, but he was immediately more in love with you at that moment than before. Yes, he was yours, all yours. Unaware, Wukong straightened up while his prideful expression turned to the man holding his now swollen cheek. He knew how it felt to be hit by you because he had been hit many times before. Even though you would feel bad and apologize when you hit him too hard, treat him like your little baby afterwards.   

“Whatever,” the male scoffed and walked away, not wanting to risk either of you hurting him more. 

“Big jerk,” you grumbled and puffed your cheeks slightly in frustration. He smiled slightly at your display before he took the hand you punched the guy with and kissed each knuckle softly… which not only calmed you down but made you extremely flustered.

“That's my girl,” he smirked a bit at you before he intertwined your fingers with his. He couldn't help that he was protective, he just didn't want to lose you. You were his everything, his anchor, his peace, and his love. 

“Wukong~” 

Oh, no… He knew that tone and, as he looked at her, that smirk. 

“What is it?” he questioned, as if he didn't already know what you were going to ask.

“You wouldn't happen to be… jealous, would you?”

“No,” he huffed and folded his arms. “I just don't like that some bastard thinks that he can flirt with you in front of me.”

“That's jealousy,” she chuckled, but hugged his torso and buried your face into his chest. “Foolish Monkey King. Don't you know that you're the only person I’ll ever love?”

“Yeah… but I'm not a person” he mumbled stubbornly, trying to ignore you, but his blush gave him away. He found comfort in both your words and your embrace. You could tell that the demon king was starved for touch and affection. He was weak against your simplest advances.

“Wukong, look at me. Come here,” you said as you reached for his face. Instead of lowering himself as you wanted, he picked you up by your thighs and brought you to his level.

“Hm?” He tilted his head, smug as ever to see your expression as he held you in his arms.

“Look, I don't care if you think you're just a devious demon that only does wrong… I know that you have the purest heart and soul. I love you, you stupid demon, nothing and no one will ever change that,”

You hugged him tightly, making him tense, but quickly relaxed and buried his face into your neck. You always knew just what to say to warm and make his stone heart, which he swore he didn't have, race and have him weak to you, just puddy in your hands. 

“I love you too, peach.”

“You don't need to be jealous, especially not of someone like him,” she assured, and though you doubted mere words soothed his worries, they did. 

“Good.” he tightened his grip a bit. Because you're mine.

“I am…” You smiled and held his face as you pulled back. “And you're mine.” That made him smirk at you before he carried you to bed to get some… sleep, and cuddle… a lot.

[punkshort]

Remember the 10 likes and dislikes you did for sheriff!joel?, would you consider doing it for Pornstar!joel? <33

Ok YES I love this and it was such a great mental exercise for myself because as I was thinking about my answers I came up with a few ideas for future chapters so thank you very much for the inspo!

Let's dive in, shall we?

Likes:

1. The rain: he loves it when it rains. He's not sure why. Maybe it's the smell, maybe it's the sound, but he just loves it.

2. His family/mom: as we discovered in chapter two, Joel cares very much for Mama Miller. Both he and Tommy are mama's boys, through and through, and even if he brushes off her advice at the time, he definitely takes it to heart.

3. Weddings: he may not be a marriage guy himself, but he loves going to weddings. He loves a good party and just simply loves love. It makes him happy to see other people happy.

4. Pool: he's gotten pretty good at it over the years, especially since Tommy became a bartender. He's been hanging out and all sorts of bars, waiting for his brother to get off work, and he's gotten a taste for pool. He's even won a few bucks off some drunks when they try to test his skill.

5. Sundresses: at the end of the day, Joel is still a man. And if he sees a pretty girl in a sundress, he's going to look twice. He can't help himself. Something about the ease of access and the air of innocence really gets him going.

6. Board games: Joel is competitive. Blame it on Tommy, but he loves a good board game and he really really loves to win. Doesn't matter what it is, Monopoly or Candy Land, he will give it his all and he will get super pissed off if he loses.

7. Sleeping in: Alright, he usually works late hours sometimes and he likes to sleep in. There's nothing like waking up naturally, letting the sun seep through his curtains and slowly rouse him from his slumber, and even better if he has a warm body next to him in bed.

8. Driving: He loves driving. He's not really into cars, per se, but he likes the act of driving. The open road, windows down, radio up... perfection.

9. Breakfast: He might like to sleep in but he will eat breakfast any hour of the day. Pancakes and bacon are his weakness.

10. Classic rock: Anything from the 70s will make him happy. He knows just about every hit and every band. Doesn't really care too much about current music, his radio is always tuned to classic rock.

Dislikes:

1. Leather sofas: Ok, the leather sticks to his skin and he doesn't like it. It gets hot in Texas and he hates the feeling of his skin unpeeling from a leather couch when he gets up. It's especially terrible when trying to hook up with a girl - the sound, the feel... it just kills the mood.

2. Snobs: People who think they're better than him or his friends/family can go to hell. He really dislikes snobby people, rich people, people who treat others differently, people who think their shit doesn't stink - can't stand it.

3. Drugs: Unfortunately in his line of work, he's seen a lot of his coworkers get sucked into drugs. He doesn't mind weed, but the harder stuff he can't stand. He's been in a handful of situations where it was obvious to him the girl he was working with got way too high before filming and it completely ruined the vibe for him. He doesn't like the idea of girls feeling like they need to get messed up to fuck him, but that's a whole other situation.

4. Cooking: He's terrible at it. He typically orders food in, gets something from work or heats something up from the freezer. If you're helping him, however, that changes things...

5. Sage: He can't stand the scent. It's too overpowering and it reminds him of his aunt's house when he was younger. A house that was most definitely not designed for children and more like a museum, where his mother would constantly scold him and Tommy, making sure they didn't touch anything breakable.

6. Olives: They are slimy and taste awful, and he will not be fielding any more questions on the matter.

7. Fake nails: He doesn't care if girls have their nails done professionally but the really really long, sharp ones freak him out. Especially when a scene partner has them and they are wrapped around his dick. He's always afraid one is going to accidentally stab him somewhere way too sensitive.

8. Blood: Joel gets woozy at the sight of blood. He doesn't know why, it's always been that way and Tommy has teased him about it for years.

9. Ties: Absolutely despises dressing up and wearing ties. It feels like someone's lightly choking him all day when he has to wear one. If he absolutely must, he always tries to make it as loose as possible without looking sloppy.

10. Golf: Because all my Joels hate golf. For no particular reason at all.

[cmdrfupa]

Love you a waffle lot, you know?

Hiromi Higuruma x Reader

Sfw, established relationship w/ soft king Hiromi. fluff with smoochin (so sprinkled nsfw if you squint)

Foodies and Goodies entry and also me dusting off the typewriter after almost 10 years of not writing a fic. Thank you @tsukimefuku for the inspo!

The sensation of the cold, wet air and the faint sound of rain awaken your senses. A rainstorm provides respite from a week of stress, anxiety, and fatigue as it welcomes you to a new day. The overcast sky is causing very little light to filter into your bedroom. You awaken to the sensation of cold, satiny sheets beneath your hands, only to find yourself alone in the vast bed. With a smile and a hint of grogginess, you realized that not even a rainy Saturday would keep Hiromi in bed past 10 am unless you physically held him down.” That man can’t stay still.”

When you look out the window to see the rain splattering over the glass, the smell hits your nostrils just in time. The chill of the outside air was making it slightly uncomfortable to stay in bed. Well. Uncomfortable to stay in bed alone.

Shuffling down the hall to the low-lit, sage-colored, sunflower-accented kitchen as your husband comes into view. Wearing a fitted knit tank top and pajama pants from a set you bought him years ago, he leaned against the kitchen counter. Dark hair was damp, and wispy strands were sticking together at the nape of his neck. Eagle eyes watch the waffle maker as if it’ll walk off if he even thinks about looking away.

He notices your outline at the doorway and turns to you, holding out his hand for you to come to him.

“The waffle maker? You’re pulling out the heavy artillery. Need any help?”

With a slight shake of his head, the corners of his mouth turn upright.

“Was going to bring it to you. You didn’t have to get up, darling.” He spoke warmly. Fingers hooked with his, the smell of his aftershave commingling with the scent of the dripping coffee nearby.

“I was getting cold.” He brings you closer on impulse, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back with a delicate touch. His embrace is familiar and inviting as he kisses your head. His steady breath encouraged a sense of cozy contentment.

“You looked quite comfortable. It would’ve been a crime to wake you. So I figured I’d make a simple breakfast we could enjoy in bed."

“You spoil me, Mr.Higuruma.”

“Oh, just you wait. I even have the berry syrup you love to have with them.”

Eyebrows raised now with just a hint of excitement. “What on earth am I going to do with you?” The ding of the waffle maker brings you two apart. He gives your forehead a soft peck before you reach the kitchen nook in the corner.

“Love me forever, of course.”

"And if you think that’s bad, she didn’t even update us. Just sent the files over to Nanami and left for her vacation.” His hand on your thigh, not keeping you from spilling your thoughts.

“Not even a concern about whether our workload was already maxing us out.” The golden brown waffles sat in front of you both, fragrant berry syrup dripping off the sides as you cut into the crispy cake, feeding another forkful to Hiromi, him happily receiving the food, chewing as you talked about the previous work day.

“I’m telling you, romi. The late nights because of her lack of care are becoming irksome. Either her boss gets her together, or I’m tying Mei Mei to a tractor-trailer by that stupid braid”. Hiromi observed you as you grabbed your coffee, the first sip taken with closed eyes. 4-second sip followed by a quick lick of your lip to catch the vanilla-flavored trickle. He always waited to make sure he had your coffee perfect before taking a sip of his own. Noticing his gaze, you move the mug from your lips.

“Honey, you okay?”

“Of course, darling.” He kissed your neck, then lips, the taste of the sweet syrup lingering. “Mei is being her usual half-ass self while you and Nanami work to improve her look.” Eyes now on you, he thumbs at your lips. “ You deserve the opportunity to tie her to that tractor-trailer.” The rich tone of his voice, followed by his lingering gaze, kept you from immediately replying. You instead smirk, sipping your coffee again.

“You know what I’m going to say, so I won’t say it.” That simpered smile you’ve loved from the beginning tugs at his cheeks, “But… whenever you decide to put the salary job down…”

“I know, Hiro..” the unyielding taps of rain on the glass filled the comfortable silence. Taking your fork and having a bite of the waffle, eyes closing for a moment. “Mmm”

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, his hands reaching to bring your legs to his lap.

“I don’t like seeing you stressed. Leave that type of nonsensical energy for me to work through.”

“And what do I do when you are overly stressed, my dear husband?” Reaching to glide the tip of your finger down his aquiline nose. A sigh of contentment huffed softly under your always tender touch.

The pitter-patter of the rain hitting the glass is soothing. droplets slide down the window in a slow, methodical movement, colliding with one another and forming larger droplets that glide down faster.

Your view through the rain-streaked window was now slightly obstructed, adding to the coziness of being inside. Hiromi forks another piece of waffle into his mouth, returning his attention to you and pushing the plate away.

“This. Simply be near me.” Dexterous fingers grip your thigh as his loving gaze approaches your face. “Be near me and maybe make the waffles next time. They don't taste like yours.”

“Nutmeg. And just a spill of heavy cream.”

“Nutmeg. You beautiful genius.”

The sound of the rain fills the air, the steady rhythm of the drops building a barrier around you, separating you from the world for the weekend. Whispers of affection and conversation as your forever coffee date share what he wants to do on your rainy weekend inside.