Tumgik
#I thought it fine to use my own and cover their face
daisyblog · 16 hours
Text
First Date
Tumblr media
Summary: Harry and YN are set up on a date.
2019
Jonny had separately nagged YN and Harry to let him set them up on a date. Harry’s argument was that he was in the middle of writing his second album, and wanted to be on his own after his last break up. YN’s protest was that she was a single working Mum who didn’t have the time, and added “nobody wants to date a single mum”. 
After what felt like months of constant begging, Harry and YN both gave in to their friend and agreed to go on a date. Jonny had arranged for them to meet at a small quiet restaurant on the outskirts of London, knowing Harry would want to stay under the radar. 
YN had been nervous all day. She had messaged Jonny several times to try and cancel but he insisted that it was just nerves and she should give it a chance. Harry felt mixed emotions, part of him was nervous, he was meeting someone new but the other part of him was excited because he knew Jonny wouldn’t set him up with just anyone. 
Harry arrived at the restaurant first, being fifteen minutes early. He was shown to their table which he was grateful was tucked into a corner away from other tables. He knew that was down to Jonny’s request. Wanting to calm his nervous, Harry ordered a bottle of wine for them, hoping YN liked it too. 
He had just taken a small sip from his glass, when he saw the waiter walking towards him with a woman following behind. Harry stood from his chair, ready to greet her. “Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you”. Harry spoke first, bringing YN in for a hug. 
“Jonny and his persuasive ways huh?”. YN joked, causing Harry to smile knowing Jonny must have nagged YN as much as he had nagged him. 
Harry pulled YN’s chair out for her to sit before taking his place back in her own. “I ordered wine, I can get you something else if you’d prefer”. 
“No…wine is perfect, thank you”. YN smiled with appreciation, showing her little dimples. “I like your tattoos”. She complimented as she noticed them on his arm, that was exposed due to his short sleeved shirt. 
Harry glanced down as he looked at his arm, smiling slightly at the mixture of ink that covered his skin. “Uh thanks…I have too many to count”. He giggled. “Do you have any?”. He gestured to his tattoos. 
YN hesitated before explaining. “I have one…on my wrist”. She turned her hand over to reveal the delicate ink on her right wrist. “It’s my son’s name”. YN watched for a change in Harry’s response or how he may end the date now. 
But what surprised YN was Harry’s genuine grin as he looked down at her wrist. “What’s his name?”. His question was genuine, YN could tell by how he looked at her directly in the eye which a soft look. 
“Jacob”. YN smiled as she thought about her favourite person. The little boy who saved her in more ways than he would ever know. “He’s five and a real sweetheart.”. Harry noticed how YN’s whole face lit up as she spoke about him. “Does me having a son not bother you?”. YN couldn’t help but ask.
Harry frowned at her question before shaking his head. “Of course not…I don’t date people based on if they’re a parent, or if they have a certain job or x amount of money in the bank…I date people for them.”. 
“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help but ask, I’m not used to people being so understanding when it comes to Jacob”. YN apologised, hoping she hadn’t ruined the date before it had started properly. 
“Hey…it’s fine, you can be yourself tonight…there’s no judgement from me.” Harry reassured her, knowing how it felt for someone not to get to know you and having a false opinion. 
“Thank you…that really means a lot”. YN smiled before taking a sip from her glass, needing to treat her dry throat. 
“So tell me about you and Jacob…I can see he’s your life and I want to know more”. The sentence caused a spark in YN’s chest at how interested Harry was in not only her but the one person who mattered the most. 
Harry and YN had talked, laughed and smiled all evening. YN couldn’t remember the last time she felt like herself and was able to be just YN and not just a Mum. Harry wondered how he hadn’t met YN sooner because for once someone didn’t want to speak to him because he was Harry Styles, he could see that YN was genuinely interested in getting to know him as just Harry. 
Harry had learnt that YN was in university studying business when she fell pregnant but had to drop out before graduating. But now owned her own florist in London. He noticed that she hasn’t mentioned her family apart from Jacob, but decided it was best to leave it that way for now. She didn’t ask one question related to the band or his music, she asked questions about his family, where he grew up, his childhood memories and all the little things that built up who he is today. 
After they had finished their meals and nicely argued about how the bill was going to be paid, they found themselves walking through a quieter part of town, still chatting and giggling like two teenagers. They wanted to blame the wine but deep down they both knew it was from the excitement of each other. 
Harry had arranged for a taxi to drop them both back home. They were both supposed to realise that YN didn’t live far from Harry’s Hampstead house. He walked YN up to her door to make sure she was home safe. They both stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence. Smirks covering their smiles. 
“I had a really nice time tonight”. Harry broke first, meaning what he had said. 
“Me too!”. YN felt shy for the first time all evening. 
“Can I see you again?”. Harry was bold, he hadn’t felt like this after a date before and he wasn’t willing to lose his chance. 
YN smiled, she felt special and chosen for once and inside she was screaming with happiness. Harry really wanted to see her again. “I’d love that”.
They quickly swapped numbers and Harry was eager to arrange to see YN again. Before making his way back to the taxi that was waiting patiently, he leaned in to hug YN goodbye. It was like neither of them wanted to let go but the feeling of Harry’s lips leaving a peck on her cheek is what caused YN to jump around in happiness once she closed the door behind her that night. 
135 notes · View notes
kika-writes · 2 days
Text
two of them - l.n - part2
Warnings: Fluff!
Pairing: Lando Norris x verstappen!fem!reader
Summary: Lando and Y/N cross the no-no line. @firelily-mimi
part one
There was one thing about the Verstappen family - that wasn’t necessarily always a good thing - you guys loved to take risks. And when given the chance? You’d go straight for it. So of course, when Lando, your brother’s opponent, asked you to go out, you were definitely saying yes. Partly because he was hot as shit. 
Landinho - come out that little room of urs x 
y/n - I can’ttttt, Max is yapping again 😭😭
Landinho - u used the excuse? 
y/n - yeah gp’s on board xxx
Landinho - good girl. gotta run, meet where I said x
‘Good girl’. He probably didn’t even mean it to be that important, but they sent your heart racing. As for Lando - he was just happy his risk had worked, and that you didn’t think he was pathetic. As soon as your clock hit half past, you excused yourself from Max, rushing back to your apartment and choosing an outfit. You had half an hour to be at place Lando had said to be, and you were ever so slightly late. You’d chosen a pretty, short white dress and matching heels, a bow in your hair to finish off the look. 
You followed the directions as closely as you could - and found yourself standing outside a small shop. In the busy streets of Monaco, surrounding by people bustling around, celebrities everywhere, and no one was even looking at the shop. It was empty except from an old lady working at cashier, counting the money. Her eyes locked on yours as a smile jumped to her face. “Hello dear. Y/N, is it?” her voice was kind as you nodded and smiled. 
“Young Norris was certainly right about your beauty,” she said, gesturing for you to follow her as you blushed. “Right this way, my darling,”. You stammered a thank you for the compliment as you walked in. “Toward the back here,” she pulled the blinds down, the sunset rays peeking through the banded blinds. You found yourself in the back room of the shop, your eyes immediately locking on Lando. He had his hood up, covering his hat, so you could see the front. He was wearing an off-white hoodie with matching joggers and white trainers, a grin on his face as he put his phone down. 
“Thought you weren’t coming,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he pulled his hood down. “Sorry about all this,” he gestured vaguely as you laughed, “the media and all,”. “It’s fine, Lando,” you smiled, leaning forwards and pressing your lips gently against his cheek, leaving a red flush at the shock on his face. “This is Annie,” he acknowledged the lady, “she owns this place and is a good friend of mine,”. You smiled at her as she laughed. 
“She seems like a lovely girl, get her, Lando,” she winked at the driver as he blushed and groaned. Lando pulled out your chair, letting you sit down as you thanked him, placing your bag on the other chair as he sat opposite you. “D’you want anything specific, or…?” he trailed off,” handing you the menu. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you smiled shyly. “There’s some good stuff on there, take a look,” he promoted you. “It’s fine, really, whatever you’re having’s fine,” you shrugged it off. “I hate spice, so,” he laughed, “if you like it, sorry,”. You shook it off - you were the same. 
“Two sweet berry waffles for the lovebirds,” Annie said, coming in as you both attempted to correct it to ‘just friends’. “Don’t lie, you two,” she waved her hand impertinently, “he’s quite the looker, Y/N,”. You covered your face as Lando rolled his eyes. “I’ll leave you to it,” she chuckled as she laid the plates down. “You’ve got taste then?” you asked, gasping at the food in front of you. “‘s why I took you out instead of any other driver,” he smirked, making you flush. 
“Hardly think you would’ve taken Alex or George out,” you scoffed, trying to play it off as you scooped the food into your mouth. “Wouldn’t be as romantic,” he hummed absent-mindedly, watching your reaction. “Wouldn’t be as good of a sight to look up,” you said smugly. “That’s very true,” he teased as you flicked his arm. “You tease,” you rolled your eyes. “Well, what can I say? If it wasn’t George or Alex, I wouldn’t do this…” he leaned forwards, pressing his lips against yours. 
At first, you gasped, in shock of his sudden move, before bleeding into the kiss, pressing your tongue against his lips as his hand jumped to your cheek, pulling you in more as you hummed against his neediness. “Sorry, wanted to do that for a while,” he hummed, breaking apart, “you taste like waffle,”. You raised an eyebrow, “Wonder why?”.
135 notes · View notes
screamingcrows · 2 days
Text
Change of Pace - Dottore x reader
Tumblr media
Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and all that. Approximately three weeks after 'Tomorrow'. "Fuck it all" *softens your Dottore*. I need this man to kiss my hand or I will murder someone. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm sending you all Taenia solium eggs
Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, burnout, overworked, soft, very mild gore (mentions taking brain samples), comfort, fluff, they're both bad at this
MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI
Your samples were long past saving by now. How long had you been staring at the plate containing the biopsies, twenty minutes? The light was burning through your vision, making everything swim in your mind. But it was needed for the fixation in the next step. If you ever made it that far.
Hours of work, wasted because of your own inability. The clatter caused by your head hitting the table echoed ruthlessly while you fought off images of a dismayed Dottore. One thing was anger, disappointment was another matter entirely.
Maybe doing tissue analysis of your own brain would've been more valuable, at least then someone might figure out what was wrong with it.
A hand wrapped around yours, gently prying open your fingers before taking the scissors away. Sight was unnecessary to discern the owner as only a single other warm body frequented this section. Your eyes remained shut, now empty hand feeling along the table for its previous quarry.
If nothing else, dead samples could still be used verify that the technicalities worked, even if the data would be misleading.
"You're barely lucid, in which case I'd prefer if this waited until tomorrow. You're supposed to be handling raimei angel extracts later in the protocol, and stunning yourself would be unfortunate," Dottore was clearly trying, voice so uncharacteristically gentle it felt all manners of wrong.
It only made you sigh in desperation, how hard he was trying compared to you, his dedication unwavering regardless of the objective he put forward.
"I'm fine, I just need a moment. You wanted the initial assessment this week," your voice was muffled enough that it would hopefully hide the exhaustion.
The low chuckle he let out caused a shiver to run down your spine. It was something he'd done more as of late, a pleasant change of pace since the talk. You could almost see the charming smile that would no doubt accompany it, the glittering light in eyes you'd been fortunate enough to glimpse once.
There was no time to open your eyes and check, a warm palm coming to rest on the back your head. The light tremble in his hands made your chest tighten so long as you imagined it to be caused by worry instead of damage.
"You've been staring at nothing for an hour, hardly the best use of your time, and certainly not an indication of someone who is 'fine'."
An hour? Oh, the samples were beyond salvageable if that was true. Everything would've died in the wells by now. A pit dug itself out in your heart, tearing at what had otherwise reluctantly been dedicated to the harbinger. Thoughts of disaster were many, magnitude rivaling divine intervention according to what little remained awake of your consciousness.
Dottore was tugging at your wrist, hand swallowing yours with ease. For being a scholar, his hands spoke of a much different past than others bearing the same title. Another question that would at other times stoke the embers of your curiosity.
Did he want you to stand? Begrudgingly, your body attempted to follow where he lifted your arm. At the feeling of warm lips pressed to your wrist your eyes flew open in disbelief. The visage was the closest to divinity you'd ever gaze upon, in this fact alone were you without doubt. From where you were, the light behind him formed a halo, illuminating his tousled hair. His eyes were closed in silent devotion for but a moment.
Without the beaked mask, he was a completely different man. The large burn that covered a quarter of his face drew your attention first, but it was the crinkles around his eyes that made him look so painfully human.
"You are in no condition to work, this can bear to wait a day or two," his voice remained steady, the only thing you could safely cling to, too lost in committing to memory what he showed of himself.
"Are you certain, Dottore? If I just… ninety minutes of rest, a full cycle should be enough and then I can start over. We still have-"
"We still have plenty of time, dear. I told you, this isn't my most pressing project, so working you to the brink of destruction would be folly."
And that was enough to pacify you. The fact that he'd used a term of endearment, however questionable the choice, kept you smiling through the familiar corridors of the Palace, tucked securely under his arm and away from view. Under any other circumstance, this would've felt humiliating, but for today there was no fight left, only a dull yearning that had tears prickling your eyes.
It never became more than dozing off against him on a couch in his chambers. But that was enough, the heat from his body and his low mumbling while he read from a book soothed your frayed nerves.
68 notes · View notes
sisters-sideblog · 2 days
Text
And my other fill for Ravioli ship week, for that most classic trope of "Only One Bed!" Read it here or on Ao3.
△△△
Link wasn’t home much for a while. After his recovery and agreement that Ravio could use his house while he was away, he promptly found himself halfway across the country chasing clues for several weeks straight. 
He did make it back home eventually. Shaking off the dungeon dust, he staggered back to rest and resupply, so tired he’d forgotten Ravio would be there and nearly drew his sword at the enthusiastic greeting that waited for him in what he was used to thinking of as an empty house. 
In fairness, his abrupt return seemed to startle Ravio as well. 
Now he slumped over dinner, already eyeing the corner where his bed had been shoved aside. It looked like there was just enough room to push one of Ravio’s added tables out of the way and crawl in.
…In fact.
Yes. 
There were scuff marks on the floor. New ones, as if someone had been doing exactly that for several nights. 
Link realized he’d stopped chewing, spoon dangling precariously from limp fingers. At his back, the sounds of Ravio enjoying his own meal fell suspiciously silent. 
It occurred to Link. Finally, belatedly. That he perhaps should have thought of this sooner. 
He hadn’t seen any of Ravio’s possessions aside from the stuff he sold. Wasn’t honestly sure he even had any. But the bag was obviously magical, so maybe…?
Link cleared his throat. Ravio twitched at the sound, spoon clattering against his bowl. 
“Where have you been sleeping?” Link asked in the most neutral tone he could manage. 
“Um. Well. You see.”
When Ravio didn’t continue, Link waited. But aside from clearing his own throat in a distinctly nervous manner, Ravio didn’t continue. Link finally turned to look at him. From the way Ravio dropped his spoon entirely, there was some kind of expression on his face.
“You’ve been sleeping in my bed.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Mister Hero!” Ravio immediately returned in a loud but not terribly sincere tone. “I had to leave home so quickly, you see, and I was sleeping on the ground with all those dreadful monsters around before you so graciously lent me your home. It isn’t very comfortable down there. As, ah. As you know. since you’ve probably been sleeping on the ground, too.” He faltered to a stop rather than try to dig himself back out of the hole he’d talked himself into. His hands were wringing together, his posture hunched in a way that made Link think he might be about to throw himself back down on the ground like he had when he was begging for a place to stay. Link couldn’t see the extraordinarily sad puppydog eyes, but he could feel them aimed right at him. 
He had spare blankets and a bedroll. The space in front of the fire would be perfectly warm. 
But Link wouldn’t get any sleep himself if he made Ravio sleep on the ground while he enjoyed the comfort of a bed mere steps away. If the guilt didn’t keep him up, the sounds of Ravio shifting around certainly would. 
He sighed. “Fine.”
Rounded shoulders immediately straightened. Link swore the fake ears on the hood perked straight up. “Really? Oh, thank you, Mister Hero! I promise you won’t even notice I’m there!”
Link doubted that. 
△△△
The problem of logistics returned once, after much arguing, they had cleared sufficient space around the bed for them to both now be standing on either side of it. The dying fire cast a dull orange glow through the room, the door locked and the shutters closed for the night. Link was halfway through trying not to think too hard as he stripped down to his nightclothes before he realized Ravio had pulled his boots off and stopped, reaching to fold back his side of the covers with the bunny hood still on.
“Are you going to sleep with that on?” Link didn’t really want those giant embroidered eyes staring at him in the middle of the night. 
“I usually don’t,” Ravio said, which wasn’t an answer. 
“I don’t care what you look like,” Link tried. 
It didn’t seem to help. Ravio faltered, wringing his hands and just standing there awkwardly. He finally cleared his throat. “Could you turn around?”
Eyes narrowed, Link gave him a suspicious visual sweep. “Why?”
“I’m going to take it off.” 
“I might roll over in my sleep,” Link warned. He still didn’t have the faintest idea why Ravio didn’t want him to know what he looked like, but obviously he cared quite a bit. It was only fair to warn him.
“I know, friend, I didn’t mean you had to stay facing away all night! I have this!” He pulled something from one voluminous sleeve; after a bit of squinting, Link first thought it a mask, then a blindfold. But it had no eyeholes to be the former and looked too padded and comfortable to be the latter. 
“I’m not wearing a blindfold!” he said hotly. 
Ravio, Link had noticed, seemed to almost fluff up and out when he worried he’d angered someone against himself. Like a frightened cat with puffed out fur trying to make itself bigger than it was. “It’s not for you, it’s for me! And it’s a sleeping mask, not a blindfold!”
They stared at each other from across the bed. One beat. Two. 
Feeling red in the cheeks and more than a little foolish, Link turned around. Rustling sounds behind him; the covers folding back. He heard Ravio sit, then near silence for several long moments, save Ravio hissing a brief curse to himself. 
“You can turn around now,” he finally said. When Link did, he found Ravio sitting upright in the bed, hugging the far side, his hood traded for some kind of silk wrap that completely covered his hair and ears and the “sleeping mask.” Between the two, he was still nearly as covered as with the hood alone. Unlike with the hood, it was obvious he could no longer see, the direction of his head aimed somewhere more towards the middle of the room than Link himself. 
“Well. Good night, Mister Hero,” Ravio said, sounding as awkward as Link felt. 
“Good night,” Link echoed. He watched Ravio lie down and roll onto his side, facing away. 
Climbing into his bed with someone else already in it was… odd. Link tried to lay on his back, since that seemed the safest way to not actually touch his bedmate. But he’d never been much of a back sleeper. It didn’t take long for things to start to ache, and no amount of fidgeting was making it any better. 
Ravio politely didn’t mention Link’s shifting, but his shoulders drew up under the covers. 
This wasn’t going to work. Time for Plan B. 
Trying hard to roll over without pulling any of the covers off of his bedmate, Link gave in and flipped to his side. 
This presented a new problem. His bed wasn’t terribly large. When he tried to curl up it pressed their backs together; a feeling startling in its intimacy. But more importantly, drawing his feet up meant he encountered Ravio’s own. 
“Your toes are cold!” Link yelped. 
“So are yours!” Ravio lied. 
“They are not!” Link yanked them further up regardless to get his poor innocent calves away from Ravio’s freezing toes, but that just pressed their backs more firmly together. Grumbling, he flipped over again. Onto his stomach now, head turned to the side on his pillow so he could breathe, one arm hugging the pillow and the other curled up against himself; a position Gully had found him in more than once when he was sent to see why Link wasn’t yet awake and working at his apprenticeship. He’d turned his head habitually to the left, and so now faced Ravio, his nose nearly tucked all the way up against the back of his neck. He thought he saw Ravio shiver when he exhaled. 
Link liked the way he smelled. 
“Is this okay?” He felt the need to check. 
“Perfectly fine, Mister Hero!” Ravio returned in a pitch that could accurately be described as a squeak. Link didn’t have the mental energy left to check whether he meant it. The past few weeks had been long, and now that he was finally comfortable they were catching up to him. Incoming slumber weighed down all his limbs. 
It felt nice. To fall asleep next to someone. It felt really, really nice. 
Not falling asleep on a hard dungeon floor helped, too. Ravio was right. Sleeping on the ground sucked.
Even if he did wake up in the middle of the night to find that Ravio had stolen all the covers. Ravio put them back when he rose before Link did in the morning; Link woke to the warmth of someone else’s lingering body heat in the blankets heaped up over him. It was a feeling he thought he could very quickly get used to.
43 notes · View notes
sofia-not-sophie · 24 hours
Text
In honor of Jason's death day I am posting a bit of a wip that will eventually turn into a Red Hood Bruce AU. (Yes there is only half an hour left today shhhh). Let me know if anyone would be interested in reading more of this kind of thing!! (Character Death tw for the whole of the text coming up, also minor panic attack of a non pov character)
Presenting:
Crossing That Line
Dick frantically punched his security code and the code for the watchtower into the zeta. Batman had sent multiple distress signals using his justice league and batcave beacon in the last ten seconds. Then all of his biometrics trackers went offline and new distress beacons stopped coming in. Bruce had been dealing with a justice league level threat for the past few days, so Dick had been taking the opportunity of a Bruce-less manor to spend time with Jason. He wasn’t looking forward to staying to babysit an injured Bruce, but at the same time Bruce was his sort of not really dad, right?
Dick wasn’t sure how long he had frozen once he saw the biometrics readings stop, but his training kicked in eventually and he was now on his way to see what he could do to help. Even if that was just standing by while someone else handled Bruce’s injuries.
He reached the watchtower and ran to the medical wing. The Justice League were all inside. Superman was sitting in a chair with yellow sunlamps trained on him, a bloody set of tears marring his suit, clearly his own blood, as Dick could see the injuries on his skin slowly healing themselves under the sunlight. He looked quite literally green around the gills, kryptonite then.
The others were around in various states of injured, but none of them were as severe as Superman’s injuries. Flash was helping Green lantern wrap a wound that probably had already been stitched up, but everyone else looked fine.
Then Dick noticed that Diana was standing at the end of a bed that had a sheet over it. There was clearly a body underneath. And Batman was the only person unaccounted for.
“Dick.” Clark said, his voice breaking.
Dick couldn’t say anything, he wordlessly moved over to the bed and pulled back the sheet. The cowl was still over Bruce’s face but it was severely damaged. Burns and scrapes and soot covered what parts of his face were visible. Dick put his ear by where Bruce’s heart should be and listened for a heartbeat.
Nothing.
Dick checked Bruce’s pulse.
Nothing.
“What happened?” Dick asked, becasue if he didn’t he might just get lost in his own thoughts and memories.
“Lex and the Joker.” Clark said, “They were making some sort of space laser together. I’m not sure to what end. I went to confront them while the others handled the guards. B, he went to dismantle the weapon. But there was a failsafe bomb. We couldn’t— We weren’t able to get to him. Not until after.”
A beep sounded someone arriving at the zeta station. A few seconds later Jason burst in in his full Robin outfit. Wait, Dick was still in his sweatpants. Not even a mask. What would Bruce say?
Dick wished he could hear Bruce tell him off for being in civilian clothes in the watchtower.
“I saw the distress record and your zeta logs.” Jason said, “What happened?”
“Jason.” Dick started and stopped, trying to put himself in between Bruce’s body and Jason.
“Can I at least see B? He’s my dad too you know.”
“Jason something really bad happened.” Dick felt the words spill out.
“What’s wrong? Where’s B?”
“He’s gone, Little Wing.” Dick bent down slightly to meet Jason’s eyes, or rather the white lenses of his mask, at level.
“No! He can’t be. He’s Batman.” Jason then seemed to notice Bruce’s still uncovered face on the bed. Jason ran the same tests that Dick had, adding in checking for breath fog on the edge of a batarang for good measure.
Jason finally pulled the sheet back over Bruce’s head and turned from the bed, he looked about three shades paler than normal. His breathing was racing and Dick noticed Clark looking at Jason with concern.
Shit. What did Bruce normally do to help with the panic attacks?
Dick silently tugged Jason to sit on the floor with his back against a wall. “Breathe, Jay. It’s gonna be alright.”
“Where am I going to go?” Jason whispered, still in a panic. It seemed to be more to himself than to Dick but Dick answered anyway.
“Breathe. You’re not going anywhere. You stay at the manor, I’ll move back in. You’re not going to get kicked out. Can you take a deep breath with me?”
Dick guided Jason’s hand to the front seam of the Robin costume so he could feel his own diaphragm move. Dick counted as he breathed in and out and slowly Jason’s breaths started to match his own.
“He’s gone.” Jason whispered.
Dick didn’t know what to say.
“How do we tell Alfred?”
Dick hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“I can tell him.” Clark said, “You kids shouldn’t have to worry about that.”
Dick nodded. Where was his voice? Part of him wanted to say that he should deliver it, he’s family, or maybe that he wasn’t a kid anymore.
“What do we do then?” Jason asked.
“Let’s go home and get you into some pajamas.” Clark said.
“I don’t want to leave him.” Dick said, looking at the sheet covering Bruce. “Alfred should have codes for the zeta to use in case of this specific issue. Have him bring the contingency files for a code dark night.”
Clark nodded and stood up. He still looked uneasy on his feet, but he got Jason to the zeta point. The rest of the League took the hint and made themselves scarce, leaving Dick alone with Bruce.
The sense of deja vu was sickening. It brought him back to the first minutes after his parents’ fall. Dick was the first one to get to them and for what felt like hours it was just him and his parents’ bodies in the middle of the ring. It hadn’t actually been that long until there were police and someone else in the circus, Dick couldn’t even remember who, was pulling him away and trying to comfort him. And then there was Bruce. Who Dick had talked to briefly that day, back then he had just been a random stranger offering condolences. Now…
Dick looked back at the sheet.
Bruce was dead.
What the hell was Dick supposed to do now?
25 notes · View notes
njamil21 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
"Why don't we let the Prefect show you the importance of upper body strength?" "Wait, Coach Vargas, I don't think this is appropri- AH!!"
Finished this piece for the @twst-charity request! Thank you for donating to help Palestine, it means a lot and I was so excited to draw this request! I imagine they're at Camp Vargas and everyone is not having a great time but at least the Prefect gets free reign to dish out some overdue revenge for one tricky octopus.
Thank you again for requesting this prompt!
Please do not edit or repost without permission. To donate and have your request submitted, click here.
67 notes · View notes
screampied · 3 months
Note
yuki fingering reader in front of choso who’s tied up and is soo whiney abt it bcs he also wants to touch reader.. 🤭
Tumblr media
❤︎ ໋𓈒 yuki teasing you in front of choso
warnings. fem! reader, fingering, choso’s tied up, praise, dirty talk, needy choso, mdni.
Tumblr media
“she’s such a pretty girl, isn’t she, choso?” yuki slyly says, having you sat promptly in her lap.
you moaned, your head being laid back against her chest while she had her fingers occupied inside of your pussy.
choso pouts, sitting across the room and he’s tied up, watching you be an entire mess with yuki. he felt the tips of his ears burn into a scorching hot temperature. “y-yeah,” he sighs, and his voice was so low yet soft. “yuki, i wanna touch her too.”
“baby, you will,” she chuckles, playfully tilting her head. choso’s lip quivers at hearing yuki use that pet name on him. he was so frustrated, he couldn’t touch you — let alone even touch himself. yuki’s got two fingers prodding against your entrance before maneuvering it against your clit to where you start to whine. she kisses against your neck before she brings another hand to make you face towards choso. “look at choso, princess. he wants to touch you. should he?”
“y-yes,” you huffed out, seeing choso all restrained and horny for some sorts of attention made you throb.
he has a sheepish grin at your response and yuki playfully frowns. “hmpf. fine,” and then she brings a soft nibble towards the inner part of your neck, softly making the tips of her lengthy fingers reach everywhere to make you whimper out. “but,” she cheeses, raising a brow at choso. “you’re gonna have to be a good boy and wait until she cums on my fingers.”
the pout spreads back onto choso’s face before he starts tugging on his restraints. “. . . told you to stop c-calling me that, yuki.”
“but it’s cute,” she giggles, her fingers still deep inside you.
you gasp, feeling her pry your legs open a bit more. yuki sat manspread, and you were just trembling on top of her. she stared at choso before simpering. “besides, you’re the one with the praise kink, no?”
“ . . . ”
“yeah, ‘s what i thought,” she slyly remarks, bringing a kiss towards your cheek.
yuki was so gentle with her technique — her fingers roamed all against and throughout your clit. her chest pressed against your back as you sat on your lap, biting your lip to suppress your sweet moans.
choso’s cock twitched in his pants from the way you kept your eyes on him the entire time. the direct stimulation she was providing with your pussy made you slump your head back against her. “y-yuki, ‘m gonna cummm..”
“yuki, you’re being stingy,” choso whines, his own breathing starting to pick up—you glance at choso and the cute frown that tugged his lips down was adorable. he was so needy, bouncing his thigh slightly, not even sure how to get himself off with the way he was tied up.
“am i?” she smiles, staring off into space with such playful demeanor. “maybe you’re both just being brats.”
you moaned, feeling her fingers goad against the very edge of your clit. it felt so good you heard the beats of your heart pour out your ears.
you were in the midst of closing your legs but forgot you couldn’t since she had them nicely spread.
just for choso to see, and fuck did that make him ten times harder than he already was . . .
her fingers created a rhythmic pace of stroking against your clit.
your folds that were so soaked, sheeny and covered in nothing but your sweet. she was obsessed with your pussy, making sure you and choso just heard how sloppy it was. the perfect squelches it sang out in harmony each time.
she giggles once you start to convulse right on her lap, becoming an entire shaky mess.
“yuki,” you hiccuped, bringing a hand to rub against her wrist. she peppers a kiss against your forehead before a loud whine gets elicited from your throat with such each. “g-gonna cum, hafta cum.”
“at least untie me before she c-cums,” choso whines, desperately craving some sorts of attention . . . it was cute. his hair bounced against his shoulders as he shifted and jerked in his seat, staring at the lewd view in front of him.
yuki smears her pink glossed lips together before rolling her eyes.
“okayyy, fine,” and she takes a brief break to untie choso—you watch as choso then drags his feet, only to kneel down and give you a kiss. the kiss was so passionate yet needy, lapping his tongue against yours, you hear a whiney moan leave from his throat.
yuki rolls her eyes once more, witnessing the two of you make out. her fingers still shoved deep inside your cunt before she uses her full wrist to match her rhythm. you bit your lip, feeling her imitate a bowling ball grip with her fingers, knowing each spot to go into to make you whimper and squirm.
“you two are such sluts.” she teases cheekily, an arm going around choso.
he tastes sweet, his warm breath went against your own before he trails his own hand down towards your body. your chest until it reached near between your legs. the touch from the two of them, you moaned, feeling your legs nearly start to be ice out.
“i-i want a taste,” he murmurs, getting on his knees in front of you and yuki. your eyes glance down at choso to see him lean up close, softly creating a cute kitten lick towards your pussy.
you shuddered, the pleasurable sensations of yuki’s fingers mixed with choso’s tongue—your eyes started to roll back, and by this point you were really at your peak . .
choso starts to lick against your folds, giving it a concise suck, even licking against yuki’s fingers that was going in and out of you and you whimpered. a hand of yours grips onto choso’s messily tied up ponytails.
“aw, he’s been waiting to taste you all day, pretty girl. look at how eager he is to please you,” she coos against your ear, playfully nibbling against your ear lobe.
your legs instantaneously shook. feeling such ripples of pleasure brew up, choso’s practically making out with your cunt, swirling his tongue against your folds before sucking it, whining while reaching into his sweats to stroke himself. he was so needy.
the minute you cum on yuki’s fingers, you fall back right against her chest, letting off the biggest whine. the her fingers were so long, stretching your pussy out so easily—you pouted once she stopped.
you looked down, and choso’s still lapping his tongue against your folds before he gulps, departing his lips from between your legs, only to greet your inner thighs with soft sweet pecks.
“choso, give our good girl another kiss.”
he pouts, getting up to bring you in for a loving kiss—you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer before he starts grinding against your body. he was in heat, desperate for more of your touch. you had him hot, and for a moment, the two of you forgot yuki was right between you two.
she smiles, abruptly pulling the two of you off before humming. “hm, ‘m not done with you though, princess,” she softly says before making you get up from her lap. she kisses near your chin as she’s behind you now. you gasp once she swiftly drags your ass back and forth against her, only before you felt what seemed to be a toy strapped on her waist. “still got so much more of this stunning body to worship,” and then she gives choso a cheesing smile. “and choso’s gonna be a good boy ‘n watch, right baby?”
“…f-fine, yuki.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
astronicht · 25 days
Text
Okay I'm almost done with Fellowship, here's an incomplete list of shit I noticed and thought was buck fucking wild on my first ever read-thru: medieval edition.
In literally the second line of the book, Tolkien implies that Bilbo Baggins wrote a story which was preserved alongside the in-universe version of the Mabinogion (aka the best-known collection of Welsh myths; I promise this is batshit). This is because The Hobbit has been preserved, in Tolkien's AU version of our world, in a "selection of the Red Book of Westmarch" (Prologue, Concerning Hobbits). If you're a medievalist and you see something called "The Red Book of" or "The Black Book of" etc it's a Thing. In this case, a cheeky reference to the Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest). There are a few Red Books, but only Hergest has stories).
not a medieval thing but i did not expect one common theory among hobbits for the death of Frodo's parents to be A RUMORED MURDER-SUICIDE.
At the beginning of the book a few hobbits report seeing a moving elm tree up on the moors, heading west (thru or past the Shire). I mentioned this in another post, but another rule: if you see an elm tree, that's a Girl Tree. In Norse creation myth, the first people were carved from driftwood by the gods. Their names were Askr (Ash, as in the tree), the first man, and Embla (debated, but likely elm tree), the first woman. A lot of ppl have I think guessed that that was an ent-wife, but like. Literally that was a GIRL. TREE.
Medieval thing: I used to read the runes on the covers of The Hobbit and LOTR for fun when I worked in a bookshop. There's a mix of Old Norse (viking) and Old English runes in use, but all the ones I've noticed so far are real and readable if you know runes.
Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you once spent months of your life researching the early medieval art of galdor, which was the use of poems or songs to do a form of word-magic, often incorporating gibberish. If you think maybe Tolkien did not base the entirety of Fellowship so far around learning and using galdor and thus the power of words and stories, that is fine I cannot force you. He did personally translate "galdor" in Beowulf as "spell" (spell, amusingly, used to mean "story"). And also he named an elf Galdor. Like he very much did name an elf Galdor.
Tom Bombadil in fact does galdor from the moment we meet him. He arrives and fights the evil galdor (song) of the willow tree ("old gray willow-man, he's a mighty singer"), which is singing the hobbits to sleep and possibly eating them, with a galdor (song) of his own. Then he wanders off still singing, incorporating gibberish. I think it was at this point that I started clawing my face.
THEN Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you've read the description of the scop's songs in Beowulf (Beowulf again, but hey, Tolkien did famously a. translate it b. write a fanfiction about it called Sellic Spell where he gave Beowulf an arguably homoerotic Best Friend). The scop (pronounched shop) is a poet who sings about deeds on earth, but also by profession must know how to sing the song or tell the story of how the cosmos itself came to be. The wise-singer who knows the deep lore of the early universe is a standard trope in Old English literature, not just Beowulf! Anyway Tom Bombadil takes everyone home and tells them THE ENTIRE STORY OF ALL THE AGES OF THE EARTH BACKWARDS UNTIL JUST BEFORE THE MOMENT OF CREATION, THE BIG BANG ITSELF and then Frodo Baggins falls asleep.
Tom Bombadil knows about plate tectonics
This is sort of a lie, Tom Bombadil describes the oceans of old being in a different place, which works as a standard visual of Old English creation, which being Christian followed vaguely Genesis lines, and vaguely Christian Genesis involves a lot of water. TOLKIEN knew about plate tectonics though.
Actually I just checked whether Tolkien knew about plate tectonics because I know the advent of plate tectonics theory took forever bc people HATED it and Alfred Wegener suffered for like 50 years. So! actually while Tolkien was writing LOTR, the scientific community was literally still not sure plate tectonics existed. Tom Bombadil knew tho.
Remember that next time you (a geologist) are forced to look at the Middle Earth map.
I'm not even done with Tom Bombadil but I'm stopping here tonight. Plate tectonics got me. There's a great early (but almost high!) medieval treatise on cosmology and also volcanoes and i wonder if tolkien read it. oh my god. i'm going to bed.
edit: part II
2K notes · View notes
myfictionaldreams · 7 months
Text
Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter
Tumblr media
Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught
Part 2 // Part 3
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
Tumblr media
James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.
It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.
This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.
He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.
Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.
It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”
“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.
Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.
James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”
Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.
The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.
“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”
“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”
“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.
James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.
Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.
“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”
Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.
“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.
Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.
“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.
They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.
James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.
“So what did you think-”
James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.
Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.
Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.
As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.
However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.
Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.
You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.
He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.
“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.
You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.
James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.
You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.
As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.
His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.
As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.
Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.
James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear. 
“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.
His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.
“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.
James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.
James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”
7K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 7 days
Text
Smooth-Talker
Lando Norris x press officer!Reader
Summary: in which Lando has a pick up line for every occasion
Tumblr media
“Did it hurt?” Lando asks, leaning casually against the wall outside the McLaren garage.
You glance up from your clipboard, raising an eyebrow. “Did what hurt?”
“When you fell from heaven,” Lando says with a cheeky grin.
You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. As one of McLaren’s press officers, you’re used to Lando’s constant stream of corny pick up lines and good-natured flirting.
“You know, I think that line was old even when my grandpa used it.”
Lando clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch, straight to the heart!”
You laugh and continue reviewing the schedule for the race weekend. Lando falls into step beside you as you start walking towards the paddock.
“But seriously,” Lando says, “You should be arrested.”
You glance over at him. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“For stealing my heart,” Lando says with a wink.
“Mhm, nice try,” you reply dryly, though you feel your cheeks flush slightly.
“Hey, are you religious?” Lando asks.
You raise an eyebrow. “Not particularly, why?”
“Cause you’re the answer to all my prayers,” Lando says earnestly.
You bite your lip to hide your smile. “That one was pretty good, not gonna lie.”
Lando pumps his fist triumphantly. “Yes! I knew you’d like that one.”
You reach the motorhome and pause, checking your watch. “Okay Casanova, I’ve got to prep for the press conference.”
“Before you go, quick question,” Lando says, gently catching your arm. “Do you have a map?”
You frown in confusion. “A map? What for?”
“Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” Lando says softly, gazing at you.
You feel your heart skip a beat as you meet his own warm eyes. You open your mouth but no witty comeback comes out.
Lando grins and releases your arm. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He winks and saunters off towards the hospitality tent.
You watch him go, butterflies swirling in your stomach. You’ve always thought Lando was cute, with his curly hair and infectious smile that lights up any room. But since joining McLaren, your feelings have slowly deepened into something more. And based on his incessant flirting, you’re starting to think maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way.
Shaking your head, you refocus on the task at hand — prepping talking points for the upcoming press conference. Still, you can’t stop thinking about Lando and the way he always seems to make you blush and smile, even with his cheesy pick up lines.
Over the course of the race weekend, Lando continues his campaign of corny pick up lines and flirtatious banter. Between FP3 and qualifying, he sidles up next to you in the garage.
“You know what you would look really beautiful in?” He asks.
You glance over at him. “Hmm?”
“My arms,” Lando says with a cheeky wink.
You bite your lip, feeling your cheeks flush. “Lando, I’m trying to work here.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Lando says, though he’s clearly not sorry at all based on his impish grin.
Following qualifying, Lando scrambles out of his car after setting the fastest lap. He makes a beeline over to you through the celebrating crowd of papaya.
“Do you have a Band-Aid?” He asks urgently.
You frown, instantly concerned. “Are you bleeding? What happened?”
“No no, I’m fine,” Lando assures you. “I just scraped my knee falling for you,” he says with a roguish smile.
You cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. “Oh my god, Lando, that was terrible!” You try to look disapproving, but end up laughing.
“Worth it to see you smile,” Lando says warmly before darting off again.
On race day, you’re feeling anxious. As you pace around the paddock, you literally run into Lando.
“Whoa there!” Lando says, catching you by the shoulders. Concern flickers across his face. “You okay?”
You nod, acutely aware of his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Yeah, just nervous I guess.”
Lando rubs your arms reassuringly. “We’re gonna do great. And you know what else is great?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Hmm?”
“The view,” Lando says, gaze locked on you. “Pretty spectacular from where I’m standing.”
You duck your head, heart pounding. When you look back up, Lando is watching you closely. He seems to be debating saying something else. After a moment, he just squeezes your shoulder gently. “We’ve got this,” he says sincerely, before heading off to get ready for the race.
You take a deep breath, feeling bolstered by Lando’s encouragement and flirtatious comment.
The race gets underway and immediately descends into chaos. Multiple collisions on the first lap bring out the safety car. You watch anxiously from the garage as the pack circulates behind the safety car for several laps while the debris is cleared.
Finally the message comes across the radio - the race is going green again on the next lap. You glance at the screens and see Lando lining up in P3 for the restart. You cross your fingers and silently will him to have a clean restart.
The pack accelerates for the restart and manages to get through the first few corners without incident. Over the next 20 laps, Lando battles fiercely to maintain his podium position. Other drivers try to challenge him but he holds strong in P3.
With 10 laps to go, you’re on the edge of your seat watching Lando defend P3 with everything he’s got. Suddenly over the radio you hear Lando’s frustrated voice. “Something’s wrong with the car, it’s down on power.”
Your heart sinks as you listen to Lando’s increasingly concerned radio calls about the lack of power. He’s slowly losing positions as the laps tick down. By the last lap, he’s fallen from 3rd to 7th from the sudden power loss.
As Lando’s car limps across the finish line, you hurry down to meet him. He pulls off his helmet and balaclava, looking weary and disappointed.
“Lando, are you okay? What happened out there?” You ask worriedly.
“I’m fine. The car is just a bit banged up,” Lando says with a tired smile. “Not sure what happened with the engine yet though.”
You hesitate, then wrap Lando in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you murmur.
Lando seems surprised but hugs you back firmly. For a long moment, you stand there just holding each other, the sounds of the paddock fading away.
Finally you step back, smiling shyly up at Lando. “So, P7. Could’ve been worse I guess, considering the issues you had.”
Lando nods, scrubbing a hand through his wild curls. “Yeah, could’ve been much worse. I’ll take the points.” He smiles ruefully. “Not quite the podium I was hoping for to impress you though.”
You bite your lip. “Lando ...”
Lando rushes to fill the silence. “You know what’s on the podium of my heart?”
You sigh, though you feel your pulse quicken. “What?”
“You,” Lando says softly, gazing at you with open affection.
You stare at him, heart thumping wildly. Before you can overthink it, you grab his race suit and pull him in for a kiss. Lando makes a surprised sound before wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply. For a blissful moment, everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.
When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Lando has a dazed, elated look on his face. “Wow … so does this mean all my cheesy pick up lines finally worked?”
You laugh and smack his chest playfully. “I don’t know if I’d say they worked … but they did make it very clear someone has a crush on me.”
You smile up at Lando, enjoying the faint blush on his cheeks.
Lando grins. “Maybe just a small one,” he teases. His expression turns more serious. “I really care about you, Y/N. And I’d love to take you on a proper date, if you’d like?”
Your heart swells and you nod. “I’d really like that.”
Lando’s answering smile is bright enough to outshine the sun. He squeezes you in another quick hug. “I better go debrief about the race. But I’ll come find you after?”
You nod, giddy butterflies taking flight in your stomach. “It’s a date,” you say with a smile.
Lando heads off looking like he just won the championship, with a spring in his step and grin on his face. You brush your fingers over your still-tingling lips, scarcely able to believe that really just happened.
After Lando finishes his lengthy post-race debrief, he finds you packing up for the day in the paddock. “You ready?” He asks, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.
You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Ready!”
You head out of the paddock hand-in-hand, both still riding the high of finally admitting your feelings for each other.
“Sooo, what exactly did you have in mind for this date?” You ask Lando curiously.
Lando grins. “Well first, how do you feel about Ferris wheels?”
You smile slowly. “I think Ferris wheels have potential to be very romantic.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Lando says with a wink.
You spend the evening strolling around the nearby funfair, enjoying the lights and sounds. Lando wins you an oversized stuffed teddy bear playing carnival games. You share candy floss and corndogs while taking in the sights.
Finally, you hop in line for the Ferris wheel. When it’s your turn, you settle into the seat across from Lando. As the wheel lifts you into the night sky, you take in the sprawling city views.
Lando slides closer and slips his hand into yours. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”
You smile, loving how he still seems nervous even after kissing you earlier. “Smooth line, but I’ll allow it,” you tease gently.
Your Ferris wheel carriage reaches the top and pauses, giving you a panoramic view of the city at night. The lights twinkle like stars around you.
It’s magical.
Lando’s arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you closer. Your heart races as you turn towards him. His eyes reflect the dazzling lights as he gazes at you. He brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch igniting sparks along your skin.
As he leans in, you let your eyes flutter shut. His lips meet yours and the rest of the world fades away. Up here above the world, wrapped in Lando’s arms, you feel like you’re flying.
By the end of the night, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Lando walks you to your hotel room, fingers intertwined, reluctance slowing your steps.
Outside your door, you turn to face Lando. “Thank you for tonight, it was perfect.”
Lando smiles, tracing patterns on your palm with his thumb. “So I did alright for a first date then?”
You laugh. “You far exceeded expectations.” Your smile softens. “I’m really happy.”
“Me too,” Lando says, eyes shining. He takes a deep breath, looking uncharacteristically nervous again. “So, I was wondering … and feel free to say no obviously! But, um, I have two tickets to the Arctic Monkeys concert next weekend and was hoping maybe you’d want to ...” he trails off, biting his lip anxiously.
Your smile widens and you squeeze his hand. “I’d love to be your date to the concert.”
The answering grin that lights up Lando’s face is breathtaking. He punches the air, looking adorably excited. “Yes! This is going to be epic.”
You giggle at his antics. “Well this was a really fun first date. I can’t wait to see what other surprises you have planned.”
You lean in and kiss Lando softly. As you pull back, Lando clears his throat.
“Y/N, can I tell you something without you getting mad?”
You raise an eyebrow curiously. “Umm sure, I guess?”
Lando winces slightly. “I was wondering if you could give me directions ...”
You look confused. “Directions? To where?”
“To your heart,” Lando shoots you a cheesy grin.
You stare at him for a beat, then burst into laughter. “Oh my god, Lando, that was so corny!”
Lando just smiles unrepentantly. “Maybe, but did it work?”
You continue giggling and shake your head. “I don’t know why I find your cheesy lines so charming, but I do.”
You lean in and give him one more quick kiss. “Goodnight, Lando. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lando’s eyes shine happily. “Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he says, squeezing your hand before slowly backing away towards the elevator.
You watch him walk down the hallway, giddy butterflies still fluttering away in your chest.
You have a feeling this is the start of something special. A lifetime of cheesy pick up lines sounds pretty damn perfect.
2K notes · View notes
e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
Text
Much Too Kind
Tumblr media
pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : astarion has found a soft spot for a girl who is much too kind for her own good, too trusting, in such a gruesome world.
warnings : astarion bites.
a/n : i haven't played baldurs gate (so i apologize for my lack of knowledge) but astarion is consuming my brain.
Tumblr media
“Do you honestly feel safe sleeping with him sitting this close by?”
“He’s done nothing but help us this whole time, why would I not?”
“Because he’s a vampire?” Shadowhearts face is blank, speaking as though her words shouldn’t need to be spoken, an obvious thought. She stares into you, awaiting a proper answerings, and she almost scoffs when she doesn’t get what she wants. In return you roll your eyes, continue to ready yourself to sleep. 
When you feel that you're ready to go to bed, Shadowhearts voice is unheard. She is already situated inside of her bedroll, which she had set up farther away from the fire than you liked, in a way of protecting herself from a seemingly harmless Astarion. In all fairness, you have probably been too trusting in the man. But how could you not?
He had been such a tease since the moment you met him. Because he seemed to annoy you, he never left your side. But you quickly grew fond of the pale man, and it was suddenly you who couldn’t leave his side. Astarion had no problem with this, and a weird fondness began brewing in his chest whenever he was around you. He had a burdening soft spot for you unlike anyone else. He couldn’t even bring himself to feed around you in case he scared you off, feeling an unprecedented amount of fear of losing you. The relationship you shared was teetering on a very thin line of romance and teasing gone too far. 
The two of you were an unlikely pair. Astarion was manipulative, and you knew that from watching him work, but he never used it on you (as far as you knew). He viewed you as too sweet for your own good, taking it upon himself to keep you from danger. In all honesty, you probably didn’t need him for that. Sure he helped when you were obviously being lied to and couldn’t tell but you could hold your own in battle just fine. From your point of view he was nothing but trustworthy and helpful. Shadowheart, your ever protective friend, had a hard time seeing the same thing. 
But when you made a fuss about having to sleep in your armour, unlike Shadowheart who had no problem with the matter, he had offered up a spare shirt. You weren’t sure where it had been beforehand but it was comfy, with undone strings hanging from the neckline, and it was large enough to go down to your mid thigh which was perfect. And his scent covering it was an added bonus. You had never thought much about it, but you never wore your heavy pants to sleep, being too hot inside your stuffy bed roll. 
You were usually asleep before everyone else, and the first to wake in the morning, so this never proved to be a problem. And, if you had to think about it, you were usually in a tent by yourself. But with only Shadowheart and Astarion around you didn’t see a problem. 
But when you crawled into your bedroll, at a middle distance between Astarion propped up against a log by the fire and Shadowheart sleeping farther from him, you began to see the problem. Shadowhearts words from before were dug into your brain, what if Astarion was dangerous and he did end up hurting you in your sleep just like she had said. You had never felt any fear towards the man, but her words had planted an unfamiliar distrust in your head.
You were dangerously aware of every noise around you. Unable to sleep, because of your focus on everything around you. The soft snores from Shadowhearts bedroll, and the quiet hum from a bored  Astarion playing with the fire. As long as he was by the fire, seated much too close for comfort now, you thought you’d be able to hear him coming. You think everything is fine, but being so edge you catch the smallest sounds, and you shoot up at the sound of a twig snapping. 
“My, my. Such a light sleeper my dear.” You turn towards Astarion, breath heavy, and a guilty feeling festering in your lower stomach. He’s almost exactly where he was when you first laid down. There’s a smug grin written on his face and you’re not sure why, though you don’t have the energy to question it. With sleepy eyes, you look around once more searching for anything out of the ordinary in the darkness, but you turn back to Astarion in the end. 
“I can’t sleep.” He throws another piece of wood on the fire, the light dancing across his face in pretty patterns from the dispersed light, his white shirt untied just enough to see his collarbones and the beginning of his chest. The sight alone has thrown the tenseness away from your body, and your muscles soften up, posture loosening. 
“And is there any reason in particular?” You meet his eyes again, a flurry of heat covers your cheeks, the look in his eyes telling you that you had been caught ogling him. “You seem so on edge, darling.”
He’s seated, practically the same height as you while he lays against the log, but it feels like he’s staring down at you. His fangs show as he parts his lips in a small, condescending grin. 
“I’m just not used to sleeping out in the woods s’all.” He nods, he doesn’t believe you, and you can understand why because you’ve only been camping in the wild for weeks by now. 
“Are you sure that's all? Cause I believe I heard that vile woman over there talking about a ‘bigger threat’ than whatever’s out there.” He gestures to Shadowheart and the dark, full woods around you. 
You shake your head, pout on your face, nervous that he would think differently of you if he knew what was actually going through your head. He was perceptive enough and, unbeknownst to you, you were an easy read. Of course he had heard the two of you talking, and he knew that you had not spoken ill of him, but it was so fun to tease you. And he knew you had grown nervous in his presence. 
“You’re not worried because of me are you?” Your eyes widen and you shake your head once more. There was  concern written all over his features, the crinkle in between his brows and his parted lips. To anyone else his concern would look fake, you were certain it was real. And to him, it was somewhere in between. He did feel something for you that put him in an unfortunate position, but the idea that you were scared of him sent misery through his bones.
“No of course not!” The comfy bedroll you had been laying in, shimmies down your legs as your torso tightens up again and your posture becomes much too straight for your liking. 
A soft sigh leaves his mouth, “Would you come sit over by me? You feel so far away.” His lips curve at the corners when you seem to think for a moment, but ultimately stand up. You bunch your bedroll up in your arms, not wanting to sit on the rocks. And when your eyes meet his again, he's already eyeing up your legs, you feel suddenly much too exposed. The night air nips at your skin and you hurry over to the spot beside him, throwing the bed roll on the ground and sitting on top of it. 
“Didn’t need to bring that over, silly girl. There’s a perfectly fine seat right here.” His eyes look down to his lap then back up to you, your face flush again. 
“I’m okay here,” You regret looking at him when you see his eyes plead with you, “..For now.” 
He really was cunning. You figured he was scheming. But he truly had no intention of misleading you, just wanted you close. He couldn’t help that he found it so cute how nice you were. Too nice in his opinion. Dangerous world out there, he was just trying to teach you who you could and couldn’t trust. Maybe you would get into more trouble, if you always trusted men like him.  
But no danger if you never have to think about other men. 
“Do you believe the things she says?” His eyes stared into the fire, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him, that guilty feeling was growing in your stomach. “I know you must not trust me, at least not fully.”
You stay silent, you’re almost scared to talk, in fear you offend him anymore then you already have. You pull your knees up to your chest, arms wrapping around your legs, guilt eating away at your insides. 
He looks at you now, with his eyes he traces your legs where your shirt no longer hangs enough to cover you, up to your face that wears a pout and tired eyes. “Do I scare you?” 
“No!” You sit up onto your knees, facing him fully. “No! I’m sorry Astarion, if i made you feel that way..”
He almost feels bad for a moment. You were too sweet, and while yes he had been worried for a moment, he was only teasing. 
In your moment of weakness, and putting yourself in an easy position, he grabs you to pull you onto his lap. Where he has wanted you all along. Both thighs on either side of his seated form, face much closer to his own than you ever planned on being. His shirt, adorning your body, hangs down your thighs and rustles against his legs. 
“Could you..promise?” His voice is so smooth, and his eyes look so alluring in this position, his hands planted on your hips. Your breath is caught in your throat when he asks, you aren't so sure that your answer before is entirely truthful now. He has too much control of this situation, and it is making you nervous, more nervous then before if that was even possible. 
“I..I promise. Of course, I promise!” You're in such a compromising position and you wish you had slept with pants on. It’s much too cold out on your bare skin, but being on Astarions lap is making your body much too hot.
“Very good.” His head moves closer to you, pulling your body into his and sending shivers down your spine. 
“Astarion!” Your hands find his shoulders, trying to put distance between you but his hold is strong. He has got you where he wants you and there is no way he will be letting you go. His face buries itself in your neck, breath tickling your skin and his nose leaving soft touches against you. 
“You smell..delicious.” His voice was sultry, and so suggestive. You knew what he wanted, had been waiting for the moment he would say something. He was a hungry man with an uncomfortable amount of power over you. And your neck was looking awfully inviting. You hated that he had you feeling so many things, for a man who was so obviously trying to take advantage of you. 
He may have thought you were naive but you were smart enough to know what this vampire wants from you. Even though you were debating allowing it just so he would be happy and full, it tugged at your mind that he might just be using you for this purpose.
Shadowheart may have been right about him being a threat while you slept, but right now he was just as threatening. Would it hurt when he sunk his teeth into your skin?
As if he suddenly became more conscious in his actions, he pulled away, breath heavy against you. “I’m sorry, you are just such an appetising little thing.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek, your silence beginning to fill him with the same guilt you were feeling. He wasn’t sure why. This is what he wanted, sure he had grown fond of you but this is what he needed from the beginning. But it didn’t feel right anymore, not with the way you were so pliable in his hands, allowing him to tease you just so you wouldn’t offend him. 
“Are you hungry?” Your voice, surprising him, sends his eyes straight to yours. You couldn’t possibly be considering what he thought you were. 
“Yes darling, but don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” He lets out a heavy sigh, planting more kisses on your cheek down to your jaw. His attempt to distract you almost works but you gently move your face away, pulling your hair away from your neck. 
“Could I help?” You looked at him with a warmth in your eyes, one he hadn’t seen from anyone but you for years. Your devotion to him pulled at his heart, you were so willing to help him without even knowing if it would hurt or not. 
“You would do that..for me?” His hand finds your cheek, voice sending gentle vibrations through you. You can only nod, scared that if you speak it’ll be nothing above a whisper. 
He takes your hair from your hand, holding it out of his way. A gentle kiss to your cheek. Another on your jaw. And he moves them all the way down to your neck where he intends to bite. 
‘Astarion?” 
“Yes, my dear?” He pulls away, and you can tell it pains him to by the look of disappointment on his face, lips too pouty for how tough he always tries to act.
“Is it going to hurt?”  His eyes are so soft when he looks at you, even though he wants nothing more than to sink his fangs into your flesh. 
“I’ll try to make it painless, but you can hold my hand, yeah?” You nod and intertwine your fingers with his, scared but determined to make him happy. 
He returns to his place in your neck, places a soft kiss before he sinks his teeth into you. Immediately, your fingers squeeze his own and he sends a squeeze back so you know he’s there. He almost feels bad, whimpers falling from your lips, but you taste so delectable that he can’t bring himself to. 
Astarion continues to drink, and you allow it. You only make an effort to stop him when you become dizzy, and your head becomes too heavy for you to hold on your own. Your grip on his hand loosens, and you use his other one to tap at his arm. It seems to snap him out of his trance cause he pulls away, licking his lips. 
“You taste as good as I had hoped you would.” A drowsy smile crashes against your face and your chest swells with pride, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The energy is gone from your body. You know he wouldn’t have killed you, but any longer and you wouldn’t be in any condition to fight the next day. You didn’t know if you would be as is. 
Astarion seems to notice, and he moves you to sit inside your bed roll. Your hand still holds his, and you lay on your side to face him. 
“Such a sweet thing,” he rubs your hair flat with his free hand, admiring your sleepy features in the fire light, “Sleep my dear. I’ll keep you safe.”
5K notes · View notes
morosis-haze · 10 months
Text
Bakugou slowly moving you into his apartment
Tumblr media
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!black reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: a curse word I believe that’s it
Tumblr media
❒ Bakugou who doesn’t really want to admit it, but he’s been getting used to your presence on those days you come over to the point he wants you to stay the night
❒ Bakugou who was asking or coming up with excuses on why you shouldn’t leave “There’s a few more episodes til we finish the season” You might as well stay on the couch cuddled up with him only a few more episodes until you could leave, right?
❒ It was all a plan leading to the “It’s late you should stay over tonight” He says it like he didn’t have you stay at his place until it was pitch black. How could you argue it was normal to not want your girlfriend out late there were a bunch of dangerous things that lurked the night, even if you’re also a pro hero who could defend yourself fine until you get home
❒ Bakugou who heard you talk about how multiple mornings and nights he is ruining your routine so he gets stuff you need
❒ It started small with him buying another toothbrush paired with a cover on it, it stood next to his in the cup. If you ask about it he’ll only say “So? You’re over here so damn much complaining about not having a toothbrush.” He acts as if you’re the one inviting yourself over
❒ “Maybe I’ll come over less.. y’know actually sleep in my apartment” You see his gaze flicker for a second before he grunts out “Well that’s not needed anymore” he moves onto a different topic ignoring the teasing smile on your face
❒ Bakugou kept slowly trying to move you in never mentioning it to you. He’d rather not deal with you being smug. That wasn’t gonna help though.
❒ Next time you come over to Bakugou's apartment you smell the scent of your favorite candle that said man had previously complained about when he was at your place “I thought you hated this scent” he looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about “What scent?” You point to the recently burned-out candle “It grew on me” he rolls his eyes seeing you smile about it, but you can see the slight pull of one on his face
❒ You were both coming from a party a class 1a reunion if you will though there seems to be plenty of those as the students all got close over the years. Bakugou was the one who picked you up and was gonna drop you off home though he had different plans.
❒ You were busy about to post pictures of Mina and you along with the rest of the girls when you finally look up onto the road “Isn’t this the way to your apartment?” You glance at him as he continues “ ’m too tired to notice… you wanna just sleepover?”
❒ Maybe he really was tired and used to all the times of you staying over it was becoming an instinct. You were able to see the weary expression on his face and you didn’t wanna make him turn back around to drop you home so you’ll stay over…again
❒ Used to all the nights over here you go into one of his drawers planning on wearing something of his own but you notice everything in it is different it’s not a lot, but there were now a few clothes in your size and there were three bonnets in different colors and patterns
❒ “Katsuki are you changing your style?” He goes into his room raising an eyebrow at your question “You know I didn’t really take you for the bonnet kinda guy, especially one of this color but you do.” You picked up a patterned one a smug look on your face
❒ He huffs electing to ignore your comment too tired to be bothered he mutters “It’s for you” before he goes back into the bathroom letting you change in his room
❒ You get done changing and head to the bathroom knocking on the door before being allowed in you brush your teeth alongside him as you both finish up he nods to something on the counter you didn’t notice it was your favorite cleanser
❒ You both continue with your routines before heading to bed he seems to have a small smile on his face maybe because you aren’t complaining or seeing you look even slightly happier from his actions improved his mood
❒ The weeks continue you stay a little longer in the morning and you’re not as reluctant on staying the night. Bakugou gets more things for you, anything to make you more comfortable so maybe you could stay longer than last time
❒ Your favorite snacks were in his pantry, a duplicate of your lotion next to his so you no longer use up your travel-sized bottle from your purse, but what you weren’t expecting is the new silk pillowcases
❒ Bakugou may have overheard Mina talking about her new pillowcases and how they’re so amazing, as he listened it sounded like it could benefit you so he looked into it
❒ Sure he could’ve just given them to you for your own bedroom, but he used them in his even though the purpose of them being here is for you
❒ “I can’t tell if you’re getting bougie or if you genuinely wanted silk pillowcases..” you joked looking at the man as he climbed into his bed with you “They’re good for your hair and shit” “Good for my hair… you got silk pillowcases because of me?” He doesn’t look at you as he answers “There are other benefits it’s not just cause of you...”
❒ There goes a smug expression returning back to your face “Careful I might just stay here forever, Katsuki” You give him his goodnight kiss before laying down as he turns off the lights you hear him say “Maybe that’s what I want”
Tumblr media
𝐀/𝐍: Back from the hiatus I’ll be redoing my taglist so if you want to join it fill out this form
4K notes · View notes
impishjesters · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Heavy Petting NSFW
warning(s): kissing, grinding, drooling(?), use of the word dick/cock, no penetration, no genitals used or mentioned towards the reader, overall just heavy petting themes, submissive-like Jax, dominant-ish reader note(s): This is a sort of continuation to my SFW post of touch-starved Jax. So many people, I'm talking so many have asked for an NSFW version and I decided to go far out of my comfort zone to actually write something instead of using the bullet points. (Though there are bullet points for setting up, below the keep reading heads straight into the writing.) A/N: I let Jax have dick privileges (initially I wasn't going to), even though you don't see it. I'm not really confident in my NSFW writing abilities, I've barely held another human's hand let alone bumped clothed uglies with one. Beta read by my mother, yes, you read that correctly.
It doesn’t take long for those little moments of laying in bed together just kissing away at whatever your lips can reach to turn a little more…heated
It was you who brought it up first, asking if he was aware of what more was—he immediately said yes, namely because you were straddling his thigh and your own knee kept nudging against his crotch
Jax for once is a nervous, stuttery mess. If kissing already makes his brain go fuzzy, what the fuck is more going to do??
He oh so graciously lets you lead (let’s face it he’s too nervous, there’s a high chance he’s never done anything like this before)
you start with kisses on his hands and work your way up an arm to his shoulder. it’s nothing fancy, just the standard kisses the two of you have shared before
except now you’re straddling his hips and he’s lying propped up against the pillows in bed
Jax doesn’t know where to look, your position above him has him wanting to look up at you, at your face to try and get some grasp on whatever evil plan is cookin’ up there. But the other half has him wanting to look down at his crotch, sure both of you are completely covered but you’re just sitting, well hovering over his dick.
He knows he said he’d let you take the lead but you are moving slower than he thought. Working kisses over his hands, wrists, all the way up to his shoulders. You even fiddle with the straps of his overalls before brushing them off his shoulders. He’s almost tempted to slip them entirely off his arms as a means of teasing you back but doesn’t get a chance to act on it.
Your lips travel from his shoulder down over the smooth expanse of his upper chest, over his collarbones until you reach his other shoulder. He shudders beneath you and it takes everything in you not to giggle, he’s so sensitive that it’s cute.
A gentle unexpected nip to his neck makes him choke on air, large gloved hands quickly latching onto your hips for leverage.
Perhaps his touch-starved nature ran deeper than you initially thought if he was starting to get this breathy over a few nips and kisses to places you hadn’t focused on before.
Oh, how beautiful he’ll be completely coming undone under you.
“You know the deal.” He swallows hard at the warm breath against his neck, trying to pay attention. “I do anything you don’t like you stop me, and I mean it Jaxy.”
Jax nods, he’s getting a little fidgety just sitting still but it’s not like his usual fidgeting. Irritation is replaced with an embarrassing need, a need for you to hurry the fuck up.
“Nuh uh, verbally sweetie.”
He exhales with a groan, hands tightening on your hips before slipping one of them onto your thigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll say something if I want you to—!!” He’s not even given a chance to finish the sentence before you bite down on his neck.
It’s harder than the nip from before but not painful enough that has him pushing you away. Jax trusts you enough to know that you won’t intentionally harm him. Though he’s pretty sure he’s more worried about the fact that his fucking dick just twitched at being bitten.
If he wasn’t embarrassed before he is now.
Kisses are placed over the bite mark and holy shit you left a mark! You aren’t sure why that’s hotter than it should be, you weren’t actually expecting the bite marks to stick like that? This world is too confusing at times.
Apparently, you’re taking too long, because Jax’s hands squeeze at the flesh under them and he pulls you down, finally sitting you down on his lap. He has the decency to not yank you directly onto his crotch but just a few inches away and wow, that’s…warm.
This whole situation is embarrassing enough he really doesn’t want to embarrass himself more by finishing that quickly.
Somehow, lasting long doesn’t feel like it’ll be an option though because your hands slip up his arms, one hand coming to rest on his neck and the other coming up to an ear. You tug his ear as if it were hair, forcing his head to jerk backward and further reveal the untouched portions of his neck.
A breathy moan jumps out of his throat before he has the chance to try and compose himself. Fuck he almost came, that’s fucking embarrassing.
There’s barely enough time to process the pleasant sting from his ear being yanked before you attack his neck with bites and kisses. To throw even more on him your hips shift forwards against his and fucking hell that is indeed a very warm crotch against his own. Fuck.
Well, there goes all attempts at lasting as long as he can because he’s not positive that he came but the crotch of his overalls is definitely wetter than he thinks it should be.
Tears pool in his eyes, not out of pain but pleasure, he honestly didn’t think you could cry over pleasure. Just something for extra flavour in movies where some poor sap starts crying during sex or whatever. He’s quickly learning that may not be the case.
The hand on his neck vanishes but doesn’t go far, fingers ghosting down his arm until it reaches the hand on your thigh. Bucking your hips you push his hand further up, pressing down onto his hand to let him know he’s allowed to move back against you.
You might be in charge but you weren’t limiting him from being able to seek out his own pleasure and chase after it.
Finishing though? That was your job.
The bites die down but the kisses don’t stop, every inch you can reach of bare skin is fair game. Chest, neck, jaw, lips—err teeth? Jax is too busy being a breathy moaning mess to really process the regular kisses but he returns them when he can. His main focus is on the way you grind down on his cock, it’s not just front and back rubbing. You’re twisting your hips and pulling back now and then, causing his own hips to buck up in an attempt to get that sweet friction back.
“Oooohh fuuuck..” His hand slips back to your thigh, tugging your hips down in time with his own grinding. The other hand goes to your lower back, fingers digging tightly into the fabric and nearly ripping it right off you.
Truthfully, you aren’t even doing much work. Yes, you are grinding on him, changing up the motion and pace, but the majority of the friction is entirely on him.
You have to take a break from kissing him to simply just stare down at him, his ears are pressed flat and there are unshed tears still lingering in his eyes. His usual lilac skin is flushed pink and there’s…a trail of saliva starting to leave the corner of his mouth.
He looks completely ruined and it’s only been a few minutes. Though you can’t blame him for that, when the two of you first started simple kisses in bed it already seemed like he’d just pop a boner then and there. Maybe he did, who knows?
What you do know is that you aren’t going to judge him, regardless of how he behaves or how quickly he finishes.
“That’s it, such a good boy.” Your words are soft, boarding on teasing but overall genuine in praise. He’s an utter mess but he’s doing so well, pulling you against him and working after his own high.
When the kisses stop he struggles to gain a moment of clarity to look up at you and watch you watching him. Your face is so tender and warm, under normal circumstances he’d comment on how dumb you look. No, that’s wrong he doesn’t think you look dumb, it’s just a completely foreign expression he’s not used to seeing directed at him. He’s seen that took on the face of others directed at their loved one, but never at himself.
His hips stop and his hands slip up your back to pull you in closer. It’s not fair that he’s the one getting all this attention after all—even though he doesn’t know that was your intention.
You are only a little surprised when he stops moving and you let him pull you down against his chest. He peppers a few kisses to your face, brushing your hair out of the way before his mouth trails over your jaw and down to your neck.
Jax is loosely trying to copy what you had done to him, though his head was full of cotton at the time so he’s having to make it up as he goes along. But whatever he’s doing gets the job done because you’re letting out quiet little whimpers.
“Jax, you don’t have to do that… this was supposed to be about you.” It’s mumbled through gritted teeth, the little attack was so sudden that you didn’t have the time to choke back those embarrassing little whimpers.
A grin makes its way to his face, one of your hands coming up to wipe away the drool before pinching his cheek. “You wipe that smirk off right now.”
“Nah, I don’t think I will.” He snorts, one of his hands gently stroking at your lower back, fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt. “Bet you thought I was just gonna lay back and let you do all the work without even giving you anything in return?”
Jax let you lead, he never said anything about not including you in this.
It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, just when he was being cute he had to go and try to take back the control. Whether it was because he needed to be in control to feel comfortable or just because he wanted to get back at you for easily turning him into an embarrassing little mess, though you knew it was likely a little of both. You did sort of take the reigns from him.
His hand slipped under your shirt but never left your back as you sat back up in his lap. Your hand took his free hand and slipped it over your thigh to your ass and of course, he had to give it a good squeeze. This time you roll your eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips. “Then how about we do this together? I’m sure,” you push your hips downwards on his neglected cock, “this little guy is feeling pretty neglected.”
Jax choked out a “rude” at the comment, caught off guard at the action but quickly bounced back. “I’ll have you know it’s perfectly proportionate to my height.”
“Another time.” Your hand returns to his ear but instead of just the one, you tug them both forcing his head back. Jax lets out a loud moan, whimpering and shuddering under you before your hips start moving against his.
The trail of drool returns in no time as the two of you move against one another, your fingers stay tangled in his ears and he makes no attempts at moving, only using one hand to pull you down into a messy wet kiss. It’s not often but his teeth separate enough for his tongue to slip out, the two of you learned early on how to work around his teeth and the rare occasions that included his tongue.
Both of you move like a well-oiled machine against one another, when open mouth kisses become too much, at risk of him biting his or your tongue the two of you move to kiss one another elsewhere. He kisses your neck while you’re kissing his shoulder.
The wet spot at his crotch only grows, an occasional glance downwards shows him it’s not just his own mess now but yours as well and fuck, if that isn’t hot as hell. At least he’s feeling less alone and a tad less embarrassed now that he knows this sticky mess isn’t entirely his fault.
Moans and ramblings of breathy pleas for more fill the room, the kisses quickly get abandoned the closer the two of you get.
The hand at his ears leaves, and both of your arms move to wrap around his neck before burying your face into the space between your arm and his neck. Both of you know neither of you will last much longer, all you want to do is hold tightly onto him, and he takes the lead.
Large hands wrap around your hips, and with little effort, he’s working your hips against his own. The bite of your nails on his shoulders lets him know you are close, and even when you let out a loud cry beside his head indicating you came he doesn’t stop.
It’s sensitive and borders on discomfort but you don’t stop him, he still hasn’t finished. Unraveling your arms from his neck you reach up and take hold of his face, your thumb slips into the side of his mouth against his teeth and applies just a gentle pressure to get him to open his mouth.
His tongue rolls out and you jump at that chance to kiss him. These kisses are his favourite and he’s ashamed to admit that the kisses are more than enough to push him over the edge.
Jax cries out a slew of cuss words that get censored, even the moment of ecstasy can’t be ruined by those obnoxious censorship sounds. His hips jerk a few more times before stilling, all though his hands stay glued to you the rest of him relaxes and slumps into the pillows.
His mind is too far gone to even process that he really just came to a bunch of kissing and grinding. For fuck sake his dick is still covered too. Ah shit, that’ll be an interesting mess to clean up.
You slump forward against him and simply lie there, soaking up the afterglow. Or tried to that is because, of course, Jax had to open his mouth.
“Gross.” He groans and finally removes a hand from your hip to rub his face.
Gross because of the mess in his pants, gross because he’s embarrassed that he didn’t last long—because he knows for a fact now that he came twice. He fucking came from you tugging on his ear and now that memory will forever haunt him and have him more aware the next time you go to scratch his head and ears.
Overall he’s not actually unhappy and you can tell, despite the annoyance plastered on his face you can tell he actually enjoyed it. If anything he’s probably trying to balance out his emotions and process everything that happened.
The annoyance pools into one of his iconic grins and you can’t help but feel a tinge of fear in that grin. There’s something in that grin that tells you that this isn’t over.
2K notes · View notes
luvf4ngz · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media
HOT LOVE ON THE WING - jason todd.
Tumblr media
Descripton: You’re not upset about your most recent breakup; you’re just upset you have no one to fuck anymore. Good thing your Shakespeare loving best friend, Jason, has a solution to that.
Contents: This Bad Boy Is PACKED With Shakespeare References, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating (Not By Jason Or Reader), You And Jason Are Absolute Fucking DORKS, Good Friend Jason Todd, Best Friend Jason Todd, Self-Indulgent, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Female Reader, HEAVY Banter, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation :), Pet Names, Praise Kink, Dacryphilia, Soft Jason Todd, Dom Jason Todd, Missionary Position, Doggy Style, Cowgirl Position, Nipple Play, Spanking, Rough Sex, Dumbification, Fucked Stupid, Unrealistic Sex, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Spit/Drool, Goofy Giggly Sex, But Also Hard and Fast Sex, Jason Destroys Your Spiderman Panties :(
Word Count: 3131
Author's Note: If it wasn't obvious from the tags this is a repost from my AO3 hehe. This is genuinely my favorite fic I've ever written, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :) <3
“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”
Tumblr media
You threw open the door to his dorm, instantly honing in on his bed and diving into the soft plush. Jason is sitting at his desk, looking up at you from his book with a roll of his eyes at your dramatic entrance. 
“Well, hello to you too.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his smile betrays his facade. “It’s nice to see you again, stranger. How long has it been, hm?” He teases, his words alluding to the fact that you’ve been spending less time with him lately in favor of being with your “new boy toy” - as he put it.
You let out a hum into the comforter before moving to your side to properly look at him. “Well I think you’ll be very happy to hear that I’m all yours again, Todd, so there’s no need to be jealous.” You cheekily reply. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. You thought it made him look adorable.
“I broke up with my ‘boy toy’, as you so politely called him.” You giggled out, using your fingers as quotation marks for emphasis. 
“What!? What happened?” Jason’s eyes widened at the news you so casually dropped.
“Apparently he’s been cheating on me for some time. My friend showed me some pictures of him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat at a party so I broke it off with him this morning. Anyways, what’s been going on in Jay-Land?” You grin widely as you gaze at him from the bed.
Your attempt at changing the topic of conversation went unsuccessful. 
Jason sat up from his spot, setting his book down before hurriedly making his way over to you, settling down beside you on the bed.
“Are you okay?”
“Don’t I seem okay to you? I’m just fine, dude.” You tried to reassure him, your voice unwavering and relaxed as your eyes followed him.
“I mean, I guess; but I thought you really liked him.” 
“It seems like you want me to be sad over this. What do you want me to say? ‘Tears seven times salt burn the sense and virtue from mine eyes!’” You gasp out the line dramatically, bringing a hand to cover your heart and the other to wipe non-existent tears from your face, before bursting out into giggles. 
“Don’t you go quoting Shakespeare at me! That’s my role in this friendship!” Jason playfully nudges your shoulder as a wide grin breaks out on his own face.
“The Jason doth protest too much, methinks.” You do your best to put on a snooty tone, but your laughter prevents it. 
“Oh, shut up.” 
Another round of cackles start up between the two of you, and you both relish in the comfortable silence that falls after. 
“You know,” You start, breaking the silence and making Jason’s head turn towards you. “There is one thing I’m sad about.”
“What?”
“His dick game was mad good.” You say with an extravagant sigh. “I’m gonna miss it.” You fake a few sniffles.
“Aw, come on now. There’s other dick out there.” 
“Nah, it’s too much work. I’ll just have to survive without it for now. ‘But I have that within which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe.’”
“I can’t believe he’s got you so cock-drunk that you’re quoting Hamlet.” Jason tsks out in false disapproval. “He’s not good enough to be depressed for.”
“He’s not, but the sex definitely was.” 
“It couldn’t have been that good.”
“It was.”
“Not better than what I could do though.”
“Ehhhhhh…” You squinch your face together in overplayed disbelief, causing him to fix you with a sharp glare and a hurt gasp. 
“Is that a challenge?” He smirked, his eyes narrowing in competitiveness. 
“I know it not ‘seems’.” 
“You cheeky motherfucker.” Jason smiles out before grabbing your waist and throwing you further up the bed. It causes you to let out a startled yelp as Jason moved to hover over your body.
“Oh? You gonna prove it to me, Todd? You must be overcompensating for something if you get this riled up over such a small comment. You know, if you wanted to fuck me - you could have just asked.”
“Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing.” He leans in to bite your neck, making your body jolt against his.
“Hey! Play nice, Todd.” You scold, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’m ever so sorry, madam.” He fake pouts before attacking your face with kisses. 
“Stop!” You squeal out, giggles erupting uncontrollably from the ticklish sensation. You move your hands to his chest, pushing him away from you. “Are you ever gonna get on with it, or are you just gonna keep messing around?”
“That’s a fair thought: to lie between maids’ legs.” 
“Ugh, it doesn’t sound as good when you do it.” 
“Excuse you? I’m a Shakespeare quoting champ!” 
“You’re awfully defensive today, Todd.” You note with a grin. 
“Keep talking, princess, see what happens.” He jokingly warns. 
He pulls back from you to pull his shirt over his head, before going to tug at his pants. You follow after him, sitting up to discard your own clothing. Once you both are left in your underwear, Jason pushes you flat against the bed again. 
“Spiderman panties. Cute.” 
“Shut up. It’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You grumbled out at his observation. You forgot about them and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Mhm, sure, sweetheart.”
Jason starts planting sloppy kisses on your skin, trailing his way down your body until he’s reached your waistband. He shuffles down the bed and lies down between your legs, leaning in to snatch the fabric of your underwear between his teeth and ripping it off your legs. 
“Jay! I liked that pair!”
“My bad, princess, I’ll be sure to buy you some new ones.”
“Better still be spiderman.”
“I’m more Team Cap.” He disserts before gripping your thighs and dragging your core closer to his face; the back of your calves rest on his shoulders. 
His eyes drag down your glistening pussy before he lets out a loud wolf whistle at the sight.
“Ew, Todd!” You laugh, trying to kick him for the action but the hold he has on you is too tight to allow movement. 
“What? I’m just appreciating the view.”
He dips his head down, tongue flicking at your hooded clit before he wraps his lips and around the bud and sucks. He feels your thighs tighten around his head as your own tilts up to let out a loud moan. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, expertly working the nub in circles as he peers up at you. 
Your head is turned to the side, eyes clenched and lips spilling shaky whines. 
‘A damn nice sight’, if he did say so himself.
He continues to stimulate your clit with his thumb, pressing his tongue to your dripping hole to lap up your arousal. 
“Fuck, Jason! You really know how to put the money where your mouth is,” You mumble into the sheets, hips bucking up every once in a while from the pleasure. 
Jason grips you tighter, preventing you from moving. He briefly looks up to note “I think you’ll find I know how to use my mouth quite well”, before moving to continue eating you out.
His actions are faster, more feverous. His tongue runs up and down your sex, your slick coating his taste buds. He savors it - lets out a deep hum that reverberates through your pussy and up your spine, sending shivers through your body. He sucks and slurps at you, so passionate that you swear you can feel your soul escaping through your cunt. The wet smacks do nothing but turn you on more, your thighs pressing closer to his head and acting as earmuffs. 
Your hands move from their place bunched in his sheets to his hair, tanging the dark locks between your fingers and instinctively tugging. It causes a low groan to tear from his throat, the bass and depth of it fueling the uncontrollable hot ache in your stomach. That only makes you want to do it again. The second tug makes a sound that’s akin to a growl, before Jason pauses his movements to stare up at you.
“Careful, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” 
It’s a sight to behold. Jason: heaving, eyes blown, his face shiny from your smeared slick. His mouth is open, panting - his gaze refusing to leave contact with yours. There’s mischief glimmering in the depth of his eyes. 
You don’t reply - only smirk, and yank his head closer to your sex again. 
“Oh, you’ve done it now.” 
His hand moves from your clit to your dripping hole, two fingers pushing their way inside you. His lips reattach to your clit as he starts to move his fingers - fast and rough and leaving you no time to adjust to his intrusion. 
“J-Jesus fuck!” He can feel your thighs twitching, can feel your fingers gripping onto his hair hard in response, and it only spurs him on more. 
His palm smacks against your cunt with each hit, splattering your slick. His fingers move at an unfathomable speed, pads searching for that one spot inside you that will make you see white. 
You’re whimpering and whining above him, senses overwhelmed at Jason’s rough ministrations. It’s too much: the pressure building inside you. It feels like you’re on the edge, senses ready to fall into a never-ending pit of endorphins and fear and exhilaration. There are fireworks inside you, lit and ready to burst and fry all of your sensibilities. 
Finally, it happens - what Jason’s been waiting for. With a slightly tilted angle of his hand and a curl of his fingers, he finds it. He knows because you suddenly tense up; because you let out the most angelic, strung-out moan he’s ever heard; because your walls clamp down on his fingers and a jet of tangy, sweet liquid hits his awaiting tongue. 
God he wishes he could watch you cum over and over and over. He’s gonna think back to this moment when he’s fucking his fist in the future - that’s for sure. The view of you - back arched, eyes teary. The sensation of you - warm and wet and tight against his digits. The sound of you - desperate and high pitched and wailing out his name. He wants it all burned into his brain.
“Jason, Jason!” Yeah, that’s the sound of heaven alright. “Jay! Stop! I came- I can’t!”
Hm?
Oh. He hasn’t stopped pumping his fingers inside you. Oh, well.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”
God, you’re shaking. You look like a leaf shivering in the wind, or a cat left out in the rain. Your eyes are glossy and teary and fuck. You look so beautiful falling apart for him. 
Your brain is in shambles, screaming and begging for a reprieve. It’s dizzying, the assault of your sensations. All you can hear, think, feel is Jason.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please!”
“Come on, princess. Just let go. Just one more for me, yeah?”
You can’t tell if the second orgasm hits you like a train or slowly drowns you in its weight. Maybe a mix of both - a crashing of a tsunami that simultaneously relieves your ache and steals your breath. 
You’re sobbing, trembling, gasping for breath and trying to regain feeling from the clouds that seem to have replaced your nerves. 
“You did so well.” Jason cooes. He’s sitting up, suckling your juices from his fingers like you were a decadent 5-star meal.
He moves to lay down beside you, pulling your body to curl into his, back to peppering your cheeks with chaste, affectionate kisses. 
“Fuck, Jason.” You heave out, still slightly out of it. 
“Was that okay? Did I get carried away?” He questions softly, concern lacing the green in his eyes. 
“Yeah, no, that was great.” You quickly reassure him. “I just- wow. I need a moment.” 
He chuckles quietly before holding you close to his body again. “So? Did I exceed your expectations?”
“Don’t get cocky. Hubris was the downfall of Macbeth.” You shuffle closer to him. “Speaking of cocky, is that a dagger - or are you just happy to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you princess,” Jason croons. “but I am extremely rock hard right now, too.”
Your hands drift down his body, sensually tracing every muscle from his chest to his pelvis, before tugging off his boxers.
You swing your body on top of his, straddling his waist as you begin pumping his cock. 
“Well then” You start, positioning yourself on top of his awaiting member, “O’ happy dagger, this is thy sheath…”
You start to sink down on him as you finish the quote, your words trailing off into a wanton moan. 
“I’d yell at you for saying something so stupid if you weren’t fucking squeezing my cock right now.” Jason manages to huff out. His teeth are gritted, eyes shut as he tries not to cum at the sensation of you wrapped warm and tight around him. 
His large hands settle on your waist as yours plant themselves on his chest for support. 
“You have to admit, it’s clever wordplay.” You mewl, mind fuzzy from the sensation of his dick stretching you out. 
Tingles shoot up your body as the pain dissolves into a delicious fullness. You crave friction, your very core feels like it's aching for it. In fact, you think you’ll go insane if you don’t start moving right now. 
You carefully lift your hips up, before dropping back down again, repeating the motion over and over until you’ve built up a somewhat regular rhythm. 
Moans ceaselessly flow from your lips, interspersed with mumbled swears and curses.
Your head is tipped forward, your hair falling into your face. Jason’s hand comes up to brush it back behind your ear, before gently cupping your cheek.
“You feel so good baby, fuck.” He grunts.
His other hand comes up to undo your bra, releasing your tits to him. Both palms move to cup them, kneading at the soft flesh before working your perked nipples with his fingers. 
You still your movements with a whine, too confounded by the assault of stimulations you were feeling. That doesn’t mean that you’re not still desperate and yearning, though. Your thighs do their best to rub against each other, trying to chase friction despite your inaction. 
It’s only as you rest that you feel how sore your legs have become, enough that you let out a pitiful mewl. 
“Is my pretty baby tired?” Jason muses, while he’s still pinching and rolling your sensitive buds. 
“Mhm,” You moan out in reply. 
He quickly rolls the both of you over, laying you down onto your back again before flipping you onto your stomach. 
You quickly shuffle onto your knees, arching back against him in wait. 
“Good girl,” He laughs out. His palms rub against your cheeks, squeezing the flesh there before pulling back and giving it a slap. 
It earns him a broken moan from your throat, and the view of your ass shaking in desperation.
It only makes him laugh again. “Have some patience, naughty girl.”
He spanks you again, and you keen so high-pitched and pretty that he can only relent to your demands. 
Jason grips his cock and guides it to your wet folds, sliding it up and down before finally pushing in. You welcome him easily, pussy molding perfectly to his thick cock. 
A hand settles on your waist while the other tangles into your hair. He yanks your head back as he starts fucking you hard and fast. 
His hips smack hard against your ass with each thrust, slowly turning the skin there sore and heated. His cock is bullying its way in and out of you, the tip knocking against your sweet spot with a force that repeatedly knocks the breath and thoughts out of you. 
Your eyes are rolled back, brain melted, as drool drips from your lips. 
Chants of “fuck” and “Jay” are the only sounds your mouth remembers how to make now. 
“Just keep saying my name like that, sweetheart.” Jason pants out. 
He can’t believe how good you feel around him. You’re so warm and wet that his cock glides in and out so easy, making it effortless for him to abuse your poor cunt. 
The hand in your hair guides you up to him, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he tilts your head and leans in for a kiss. 
It’s messy with your spit and drool, both your movements uncoordinated and sloppy. 
He fucks up into you all the while, gravity allowing him to hit harder and deeper inside you.
He can feel that you’re close again - your body is twitching against him, your cunt beginning to spasm. 
The hand on your waist reaches to rub quick and hard circles against your clit, and you’re gone.
Your whole body shudders as you soak his cock, before going limp is his hold. It’s an intense buzzing sensation that overtakes you, settling deep in your veins until you’re trapped in a pleasing static. Your head is submerged in sticky syrup that makes it hard to think, so you just indulge in the calming weight of it. 
Jason pulls out and gently maneuvers your dazed body back to the bed, hand working himself to completion before finishing on your stomach - his warm cum splattering on the skin as he lets out a husky grunt.
He stays there, catching his breath for a few moments before he disappears to the bathroom while you come down from your high, washing his hands and grabbing a damp towel to bring back to you. 
He wipes you clean before poking your cheek until your gaze refocuses on him.
“How was it?” He cheekily smirks. 
“I certainly died a lovely death in thy lap,” You chuckle.
“If you can still quote Shakespeare I didn’t fuck you dumb enough.” Jason frowns.
“Awh, cheer up, you big baby.” You reach out to pat his head endearingly, “I change my mind; your dick game is definitely better.”
“YES!” Jason fist-pumps like he just scored a touch-down and you smile at how stupid he looks. “Okay, now you go pee.” He shoos you away. “I’ll change the sheets and we can watch reruns of Gossip Girl again.”
“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.” You fake tear-up, wiping your eyes before giggling the whole way to the bathroom. 
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3
- sumi ☆ミ
ミ☆ masterlist
789 notes · View notes
i-cant-sing · 13 days
Text
Time Traveller AU pt3
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Find the AU masterlist here! Check out my MASTERLIST here.
"This is so unnecessary" you whispered to the man sitting behind you. "Everyone's staring." Your eyes scanned over the mass of people in town, as your horse passed through.
You thought you would get your own horse, but Baldwin had other plans apparently, as he just picked you up from your armpits and plopped you in front of him on his horse.
You could feel him smiling from ear to ear. "I think they're just in awe of your beauty. I would suggest getting used to the stares, now."
You rolled your eyes. "Dont flatter me. I know how I look, besides- I was referring to us sharing a horse. Its unnecessary and its why everyones looking at us."
"I think its unnecessary to get another horse for you. You dont know how to ride them, and believe me when I tell you- these horses are wild. I dont want you to get hurt when they kick you off." He teased.
You scoffed. Alright, maybe you werent an equestrian, but how hard would it be to ride a horse anyways? Didnt Baldwin learn to ride one when his right arm was paralysed and he had to do with his thighs mostly to control the horse?
"Still, I couldve gotten a carriage. Or better yet walked? Maybe even ride a horse with someone else-" You quieted down as you felt a pair of lips peck behind your ear.
"Dont even think about it. Why would I let anyone touch you, be this close to my princess-" his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you back closer to him. "Wouldnt you prefer your soon-to-be-husband to help you instead?" He whispered as his hand slowly found its way to rest on your belly, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Heat rose to your cheeks as you pulled his hand away and smacked it when it tried to touch your waist again. "Behave, Baldwin." You admonished with a smile as people looked at you. You dont want to create a scene (especially not one where history would report some lady smacking King Baldwin).
You getting flustered and angry only made him chuckle, as he leaned down to give the back of your head a kiss.
Enough with the PDA already. Arent medieval times supposed to be more conservative?
Ugh. Your lips formed into a thin line. Maybe he'll back off when you reach Salauddin and he sees how other Muslims act.
With some entourage accompanying you guys, you travelled away from the kingdom for almost an hour or so until you crossed that one sand dune beyond which Salauddin and his people were camping.
Before reaching the dessert, you had asked Baldwin if he had something that you could cover yourself up with. You want to adhere to the customs and not accidentally piss off one of the greatest Muslim rulers. Sure, you could've worn something more concealing before leaving the castle, but neither of you wanted people to know that you two were going to meet Salauddin.
Baldwin nodded and in one swift motion, he had removed his cloak and wrapped it around you, bringing the hood over you.
"But- what about you?" you looked back at him with wide eyes. People didnt just wear full length clothes back then just because of modesty, but also to protect their skin from sun damage.
He smiled. "I'll be fine, princess." No, you wont. And you're not risking yet another historical change by having the king of Jerusalem getting skin cancer.
Immediately, you tore off the bottom of your tunic and made a keffiyeh (a headdress) which covered both his head and his face. "There, now we can go."
From the keffiyeh, only his eyes were visible, which crinkled up. "Did you cover me up because you dont want women staring at me in awe?"
"What? Of course not. You just recovered from leprosy. Your skin would be sensitive to the harsh sun and heat of the desert-" He cut you off by laughing lightly.
"Whatever you say, princess. Whatever you say."
As you neared the camps, you saw men dressed in battle armour coming out of the tents, and you from the way he walked, the way he dressed, even his mere presence could make you recognise Salauddin from a mile away.
The horse stopped and Baldwin got down first before helping you down. You followed him as he walked towards Salauddin, who was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. An erie silence settled all around you, the sound of air whooshing being the only thing audible for a few moments. Salauddin stared into Baldwin, while men from both sides glared at each other, one hand on their swords, ready to fight.
"Salam alaikum." Baldwin spoke first.
Peace be upon you.
You heart dropped for a second when Salauddin didnt reply back immediately. With your hood covering your face, you couldnt exactly see his expressions, only resorting to his body language and sounds to anticipate his mood.
Salauddin's lip quirked up. "Walaikum asalaam." He opened his arms and both men embraced each other for a few moments and you could feel the tension around you finally melting away as men from both sides finally started conversing with each other normally now that their kings were talking amicably.
Salauddin patted his back and raised a brow at you. "Who taught you the keffiyeh to cover that sore face of yours?" Baldwin chuckled. "My fiancee- Y/n, princess come here will you?" You walked closer to Baldwin. "This is Y/n, and we're both here today to invite you to our wedding. Darling, say hi, will you?"
You gulped. "Assalamu alaikum".
Salauddin's ears perked up. "Walaikum asalam. That was perfect pronunciation. Have you been taught by Arab scholars?"
"About that..." Baldwin chuckled nervously. "Y/n, why dont you go there with the ladies? They seem pretty eager to meet you." Salauddin nodded his head and a couple of women, all wearing burqas approached you. "This is princess Y/n. Take good care of her." Salauddin told them as they took you to their tent, where only women remained.
Meanwhile, Salauddin let Baldwin in to his tent.
"So, whats the secret?" Salauddin asked as he sat down, beckoning Baldwin to do the same.
He took a deep breath. "Y/n is... a Muslim."
Salauddin blinked at him. "What?"
"She's Muslim." He repeated. "So could you just tell me about the Islamic wedding ceremony? Nikkah, right?"
Salauddin stared at him. "Are you joking?"
"No."
"You cant marry her, Baldwin."
"Why not?"
"Because she's a Muslim and you're Catholic!"
"So? I havent seen it stop Muslims from marrying non muslims."
"No- only muslim men can marry non muslim women. It doesnt work the other way around."
"Salauddin, thats sexist."
"Its not sexist- nevermind, I cant help you understand it. But no, you cant marry a Muslim woman."
"What if... shes not Muslim?" Salauddin gave him a puzzled look. "I... believe Y/n may be using religion as an excuse not to marry me."
"If she doesnt want to marry you, why do you wanna marry her?"
"She does want to marry me, she's just... confused. Look, Salauddin. She cured me- CURED leprosy. This doesnt happend to anyone. She- she has something holy about her. How else do you explain this miracle?"
"So what? You think God and what- Jesus? chose this girl for you? That they gave her healing hands to cure your disease? You think shes of divinity?"
Baldwin smiled softly. "I do." Salauddin rolled his eyes. "Youre infatuated with her, Baldwin. Its temporary. She performed some magic, or tricks and you think she's divine? Do not make a fool of yourself."
"Then explain how I suddenly got well, Salauddin. Youve travelled the world, you sent me your best Arab healers, you believe in sciences- explain to me how I was cured of my incurable disease."
Salauddin gazed at the young king. "Let me guess, she claimed that she's been sent by Almighty God to cure the King and save Jerusalem, and in return, you must marry her or give her your throne to fulfil some prophecy?"
Baldwin chuckled, leaning back against the ottoman a bit. "Actually, she's been denying that she did anything to help me, she keeps on making excuses to marry me, she avoids my affection- and if I'm being honest, attention." Salauddin's eyes furrowed a bit. What game are you playing?
"Maybe... Black magic?" Salauddin is well aware of witchcraft, its been mentioned by his religion too.
Baldwin shrugged. "She's far too angelic to be associated with that. I'm sure there would be prominent signs if she was involved in any sort of magic or witchcraft."
Salauddin was about to reply but just then, his guards came running in.
"Salauddin! There's a sandstorm coming!" Immeadiately both kings sprung up.
"Tie up the animals! Tell everyone to get in and take cover!" Salauddin barked orders at his men.
The women in your tent were immediately informed of the situation and they quickly started taking measures, with the men outside helping to nail down the tent and gathering the baby animals and children, bringing them inside the tent.
You got up to leave and go to Baldwin, but the women pushed you back down, telling you its not safe to leave.
"The storm is here! You can't leave now!" Well, alright then. You plopped back down on your seat, when you heard someone cry out loud and your eyes immeadiately saw the liquid on the floor.
Of course it was the pregnant lady.
The woman had went into labour and everyone rushed to help her. Everyone but you. Nuh uh, youre not meddling in this time, lest anyone else accuses you of having magic healing hands.
Another harrowing scream pierced through the room, with the harsh winds threatening to blow away the tent adding on to the tension.
Maybe I could just stand near them, just to make sure they are using proper hygiene. Or actually just to see how midwifes worked in the past. Yes, its for science.
You stood near the midwifes, out of their work field because you dont want to be an obstacle. Of course, you may have had caught the sight of the poor woman and her... vagina, which youre ashamed to say has made you sick to your stomach because child birth is not a beautiful phenomenon and fuck this shit youre never having babies.
After almost an hour, the baby was finally out. The stench of sweat and blood and the nightmarish sights you'd caught glimpses of had made you want to throw up when suddenly the enviorment turned gloomy. And it hit you.
The baby wasnt crying.
The mother who was previously crying from labour, was now crying due to a different kind of pain.
You felt for her, you truly did. Carrying a child for 9 months, making sure to take every precaution, not to mention the constant prayers for a healthy baby (and for some, specifically a boy) otherwise the mother would be blamed.
The midwife put the dead baby in the bassinet beside you before tending back to the grieving mother, who was still bleeding from down there.
"Poor Fatima." You heard one of the women whisper to her friend. "To wait for 8 years before she finally conceived... only for her child to die before he could even take his first breath."
Your heart broke as you heard them, the woman sobbed inconsolably. You turned your head to look at the baby in the bassinet and subconsciously, you wondered what went wrong.
Doesnt look like he was choked by the umbilical cord... and he doesnt look cyanotic either, so he probably wasnt dead inside the womb. Your eyes widened. Maybe-!
Your hands went to pick up the baby before halting mid air. No. No. I cant interfere- I cant mess with history more than I already have. I cant save a child who was destined to die-
Your head whipped to the woman who let out a shrill, devastating cry, begging God to let her son live.
Fuck it. You picked up the baby. Maybe this baby was destined to live.
Immeadiately you checked for breathing before putting the baby on a table nearby and placed two fingers on the left side of his chest, starting compressions.
"1. 2. 3-" you muttered under your breath, trying to recall what was drilled into your head when you were attending first aid classes. Pinching the baby's nostrils, you breathed into his mouth, eyes watching as his chest rise and drop. You repeated the compression set 2 more times when the baby finally took a huge breath and began crying.
Picking up the baby, you ran towards the bucket of water and started cleaning the baby's head and face off the mix of blood and amniotic fluid, while massaging his back and his feet to encourage him to breathe on his own.
After a few minutes, you turned around to cover the baby with a cloth swaddling him up nicely and thats when you finally looked around you.
Everyone was staring at you in shock, the sound of the baby crying echoing the silence.
Shit. You rocked the baby gently as you handed him to his mother, who also looked at you in shock with tear streaks on her cheeks. I hope... they didnt see me do CPR.
Yes, damage control. Thats what you need to do. You cleared your throat. "Um- yes, Allah has blessed you with a beautiful son. Lets be grateful to Him." And the women slowly began talking again and agreeing, some saying that they'll go give sadaqah (charity to please God) while others were going to go pray.
When you turned around, you saw Baldwin and Salauddin standing at the entrance of the tent, the former having a beaming smile while the latter looked in surprise.
Maybe it was the stench of sweat and blood in the room, maybe it was emotional situation you went through (high key nauseating), or maybe it was the mix of amniotic fluid and blood on your mouth from when you saved the baby, but the next moment, you lost consciousness.
-
When you woke up, you noticed you were in a different, much bigger tent. Rubbing your eyes, you sat up with a groan.
"You're finally awake." You looked up to see Salauddin sitting at his desk in the other corner-
Salauddin? Your hands went to draw your hood over your face but you realised your (or well, Baldwin's) cloak had been replaced with a cotton niqaab that veiled your entire face except for your eyes.
Standing up, you looked in his direction. "Where's Baldwin?"
You heard him chuckle darkly. "He left."
"He left?" You heard him walk over to you, and instinctively you took a step back, narrowing your eyes at his audacity.
He towered over you, face neutral as he looked down at you. His hand gestured to his right, where a chess set was placed on a table.
"Do you play?" He asked, eyes never leaving yours.
Hesitantly, you nodded. He sat down, beckoning you to do the same.
"Ladies first." He let you start the game. "I should tell you though- if you wish to leave out of this place alive, you'll have to win."
What the shit? Is this some sort of psychological game? Or is this actually happening? I mean, people in the medieval times were crazy. Just because he's muslim shouldnt excuse him from insanity.
You picked up the white pawn. "Where is Baldwin?"
"I told you, he's gone." He moved his black pawn. "He sold you to me."
You looked up at him. What? "Focus on the game. You do not wish to know what will your fate be if you were to lose this game." You immediately picked up your bishop and moved it.
Salauddin clicked his tongue as he took your bishop. You moved your pawn again. "Why- why would he sell me? I'm his fiancee." You asked, your eyes never leaving the board. You're playing for your life here.
"Well, when we saw you use black magic to save that baby- oh, I took your other pawn too, mhm-" He smiled as he looked at your furrowed brows. "And then I told him that you cant be a muslim if you were using black magic."
"Black magic? When did I use it?!" you asked exasperatedly as you lost your knight.
"We saw you muttering something when you were "saving" that child." Muttering? When was I muttering? "One of the ladies even said they heard you whisper some repetitive words to a tune too."
Repetitive words-? You wanted to bang your head against concrete when you realised he was referring to you doing compressions to the rhythm of Stayin Alive by the BeeGees. This one is not your fault because the instructor taught you guys that.
"I was not doing black magic. Even so, who are you to decide if I am a Muslim or not?" You moved your other knight.
"I am Salauddin Ayubi-"
"So?" Salauddin looked at you.
So? So? No one has ever dared to ask him questions.
"Your real name is Yusuf. Salauddin is just a laqab, hm?" Your eyes never left the board as you made your move. "Do you think you're above me? Above Baldwin? Above anyone?" You didnt let him answer as you gestured at him to continue the game. "I dont recall you being a prophet. I dont remember you being a caliph even. So, Salauddin tell me what gives you the right to judge if I'm a muslim or not?" You asked as you took his pawn.
Salauddin narrowed his eyes at you, making his bishop take another pawn of yours. You didnt let it deter you as you practically snatched the same bishop of his with your rook. "Just because youre a muslim, you think you have the right to judge me?"
He scoffed at your words, making his move but you took yet another black pawn. "I am a Muslim. I was born in a Muslim family-"
"Exactly." You took more of his black pawns as he took your white ones. The board was mostly empty now. "You were born in a Muslim family. Do you honestly believe your Lord is happy with you because you were born in the right family? Is that the essence of what being a Muslim is?" Salauddin now looked at you but you didnt let your eyes stray away from the chess board. "Are you a Muslim because you were born in a Muslim family? Or were you born in a Muslim family because Allah knew you wouldnt find your way if you werent? If you were born in a catholic family, youd be a catholic? Lets say you are a Muslim, how do you know youre a good enough Muslim who can judge me? How do you know Allah will let you in heaven when youre on Earth declaring so and so is doing magic and isnt a muslim? Only Allah can judge us, not you Salauddin Ayubi." You stated calmly as you made your final move. "Thats checkmate."
You finally looked at him, your eyes holding satisfaction at his distressed face, though he masked it well.
How you wished to reveal to him that he was playing against a grandmaster whose parents made her take chess as a hobby since she was 6 because they believed it would make her smart and get into good colleges (it did. Thanks mom and dad.)
"Salauddin, we can play chess all you want but dont lie to me. You know I wasnt doing magic, and you know that I know that Baldwin wouldnt just leave me behind. So please, tell me, where is Baldwin?" Before he could reply, you continued. "Remember, lying is a sin."
At this, his eyes finally showed amusement. "He's outside, helping the women sew a niqaab for you. He wants to embroidery a flower in or something." You rolled your eyes at that. Of course, leave it to Baldwin to do cute romantic stuff.
Salauddin leaned back in his chair as he studied you. "So, how did you bring the baby back to life?"
"I prayed to Allah." He quirked a brow at you. "I also cleared his nostrils. They were plugged with fluid, so he didnt know or couldnt breathe with his lungs. Then I just warmed up his body a bit and he was crying- the baby was never dead. You know that no one can be saved from Azrael if Allah has written for that person to die."
Angel of death.
He gave you a nod, though his eyes watched you curiously. "How were you so sure that I knew you were a Muslim?"
You shrugged. "I just did." Why wouldnt you know when he was playing chess with you to check your psychology? Not to mention, he allowed you to be covered with a niqaab even when you were unconscious and let you stay in his tent? If he even doubted that you were a non muslim, you more than likely wouldve been treated far badly.
Salauddin chuckled. Of course, youd keep your secrets. "Then you know that as a Muslim woman, you cannot marry anyone of another faith."
"I dont plan on marrying Baldwin." You scoffed. "I already rejected him and have tried to sway his mind, but hes set on his decision. I think he actually believes that Im an angel or something divine."
He quirked a brow at you. "So he's forcing you to marry him?"
"I wouldnt say force- well, actually I would say that. But he doesnt treat me badly or anything. He's very sweet, even when I avoid him."
Salauddin clicked his tongue. "I could help you." You looked at him. "You are a Muslim, a part of the ummah. I could-"
"No. If youre suggesting starting a war, no." "Well, not a war, youre not that important." Damn. He grinned at your offended eyes. "I meant, I could send some people to sneak you out or-"
"No, if Baldwin finds out youre involved in any way in my escape he would-" you cant risk an extra crusade happening because of a damsel in distress, aka you. It would put the fate of Jerusalem at risk as well as the fate of the Ayyubid dynasty.
Wait. Ayyubid dynasty. They ruled over Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Yemen and so on. But Egypt was the learning center of the Islamic world during this time because they focused on arts and education which meant they hosted the world's greatest scholars there.
"Salauddin, can you get me to Egypt?" The king of Egypt, or sultan of Egypt looked at you quizzically. "I can, but why? Do you have family there?"
"What? No, I'm not running away to Egypt. Look, I just-" you cant explain to him about your escape plan that you were going to use the help of scholars to help you make the tools which you can use to fix your broken time machine. So, you lie. "You're someone who enjoys learning, right? I know you like history and sufism, and I would just love to get to know more about it."
With his head resting on his palm, he studied you. You intrigued him, and although he sensed you had ulterior motives, he agreed. "I cant take you there personally because I am busy here, but I could send you there with some trusted men." You smiled under your veil. This is exactly what you want. And almost as if he could sense your glee, he continued. "Your madly-in-love fiance wont send you alone, or at all."
"Let me worry about Baldwin, and he'll agree because I'm not running away. I'll work on my escape another way in which no one has to die." You said, finally standing up and walking out of the tent to find Baldwin who was sitting with the other veiled women, his eyes focused on the needlework.
"Baldwin." You called out with your hands behind your back as you walked upto him.
He looked up and his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of you. "Princess!" He stood up and immediately went to hug you but you stopped him before he could, nodding your head at onlookers. "Oh right, sorry." He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, ears turning pink as the women giggled.
He then picked up the niqaab he'd been working on, the blue cloth matched the color of his eyes. "Look, I made that flower." There was embroidery done on the sleeves. And of course, amongst the mass of tiny, delicate pink and white flowers, Baldwin made the biggest, slightly wonky flower.
It brought a smile to your lips. Gosh, he's such a-
You shake your head. No. No. You cant.
"Its beautiful, Baldwin. Thank you." He grinned at your praise, nodding his head as he folded it up. Still holding the embroidered niqaab in his hand, he walked over to Salauddin and shook his head. "We should get going now. Thank you for hospitality, Salauddin." The Kurdish nodded. "Of course. You're always welcome. And if you have any more questions about our traditions and rituals, dont hesitate to reach out to me. Although your wife to be seems quite knowledgeable on the subject herself." Your eyes widened every so slightly. Did Salauddin- did he just acknowledge that you're not as dumb as he thought you were.
Baldwin smiled before leading you towards his horse, helping you get on it.
Salauddin watched as your entourage left, and his mouth twitched.
You have piqued my interest, Y/n. He called his right hand man.
"We still have spies in Baldwin's castle, right?" The man confirmed. "Excellent. Have them find out all they can about lady Y/n. And prepare a small entourage ready to go to Egypt."
"Wont we be staying here, sultan?" The man asked, confused as to why Salauddin would be leaving Jerusalem this early.
"We will, but I will make a short trip in between."
Of course, Salauddin cant just let you go to Egypt alone. The sultan will have to make proper arrangements to welcome you there.
And to find out what you're really there for.
He returned to his tent, his eyes landing on the chess board. Walking upto it, he looked at how you had defeated him.
Salauddin smirked, using his finger to knock down the white king.
It'll be fun to make Baldwin jealous.
Tumblr media
880 notes · View notes
pioneergirlsie · 11 months
Text
Frickin’ Watermelon
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
Summary: The 141 finds out about your skincare routine, and you wonder if one of your teammates might benefit from having one also.
A/N: This is my debut piece for the CoD fandom. I fell fast and hard for MW, and I thought this piece up while scrubbing my face one night, trying to keep the acne at bay. I hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
As a sniper, you have to keep your face out of sight. You prefer face paint, camouflaging yourself to blend in. You’d gotten quite good as quickly painting yourself and heading out for whatever mission was next.
Unfortunately, on this mission, they decide rather last minute to use your sniping skills, simply shrugging when you asked for face paint. They hand you a balaclava, which would do the job fine.
You slip it on, slightly peeved that you couldn’t use your paint. There is a reason you wear paint. The longer you wear that face covering, the more you feel like you were going to choke on your own breath. It is hot and humid, and the balaclava gathers sweat and oil and dirt and hot breath, keeping them all close to your face.
Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you force yourself to take a few deep breaths, lifting the mask a bit to let some fresh air in from time to time.
You spend several miserable days out on that mission. The final morning when you pull on the balaclava, it rubs painfully against some recently developed acne.
Mercifully, the mission ends successfully, and you return to base. After a quick shower to degrime from your time in the field, all you want to do was fall into bed, but that acne is just getting worse.
Half asleep, you reach for your bottle of face wash. It was watermelon-scented pink gel that works wonders for you. You scrub your face with it, put on some moisturizer, and stumble your way to bed.
—————————————————————————
“What do you even need face wash for? Isn’t water good enough for the princess?”
You might have hit Soap for his teasing if you hadn’t detected a hint of genuine curiosity in the question.
“There’s no way water is going to cut through all the grime on your ugly mug,” you tease back. “For a guy called Soap, you should use some a little more often.”
“Ouch,” Soap says with a grin.
After a long day of training, you, Soap, Ghost, and a few other members of the 141 have gathered to just relax. You don’t know how the conversation turned to your skincare routine, but here you are. These boys are oddly fascinated with the care you give to your personal hygiene.
“I’m honestly surprised you guys don’t get acne more often. That one mission a few weeks back, I had to wear a mask the whole time I was in the field, and I broke out so bad,” you said. “It was awful!”
You caught Ghost’s eyes after that remark. *He* wore a mask all the time. But it was different for him. The mask was part of him at this point. It was freeing, somehow, in a way you couldn’t quite grasp; for you, it was smothering.
If you got that bad of acne from a couple days with your face covered, you had to wonder: did Ghost ever break out?
“You know, if you ever want to try it, I can give you a full rundown of the routine. Face wash, moisturizer, the whole works,” you said, directing your comment to Soap. Then, meeting Ghost’s eyes, you added, “You can’t miss the face wash. Bottle of pink gel in with my stuff.”
Soap snorts, and Ghost doesn’t say a word. You didn’t want to straight-out say that he could use your wash if he wanted to. After all, “skin care” didn’t have the manliest connotations. His eyes reveal nothing of his thoughts on the matter.
“Pink? I suppose it smells all fancy, too?” Soap laughs.
“Well, of course! Nothing too girly, though. Just some light, fresh watermelon scent,” you reply.
“Ah yes, watermelon! The manliest of all scents,” Soap says.
This time, you do hit him.
—————————————————————————
After a few days away on a mission, you are glad to be back on base. It hadn’t been a bad time out in the field, but it had been boring. You guess that’s better than things going horribly wrong, but you’d like at least a little fun while you’re out.
After a hot shower, you move to the sink to wash your face. You reach for your bottle of pink face wash. As you lift it, you realize it feels slightly lighter than it had before you left. You level the bottle, looking at how much is left. It’s not much emptier, but it’s definitely less than you thought you’d had before this mission.
But maybe you just were misremembering. After all, the bottle was exactly where you’d left it. You liked to display it in the corner with the cute watermelon decal facing outward, and that’s precisely how it had been.
With a shake of your head, you dismissed the thought and washed your face.
—————————————————————————
Your strides were quick as you made your way toward Price’s office. He’d asked to see you, and while it wasn’t urgent, you liked to make a good impression by being as punctual as possible.
In your haste, you nearly bump into Ghost, who’s turning the corner.
“Oh! Sorry!” you exclaim as you check up, barely keeping from smacking into him.
He nods at you as he continues on. As he passed, you swear you catch the scent of watermelon. You whip around, watching him walk away, but saying nothing before continuing to Price’s office.
—————————————————————————
You clutch the brown paper bag in your hand as you make your way to your lieutenant’s room. After slowly watching your face wash deplete seemingly on its own for several more days and catching a few more whiffs of watermelon whenever you were near Simon Riley, you were fairly confident you knew where it was going.
You didn’t want the man to have to keep using your face wash forever, though, so you’d gotten him a bottle of his own. Unfortunately, the stuff only came in the cute bottle with the watermelon decal, so you also bought a plain opaque bottle to put the pink gel in. You couldn’t resist adding a label with a skull and crossbones on it that read “Poison” just for fun.
The rest of the contents of the bag were some more intense acne treatments for breakouts and stubborn spots along with wipes for the black paint he used around his eyes and moisturizer. You’d also written a note with detailed instructions on how and when and what order in which to use the products.
You were just going to set the bag outside his door and maybe knock and run. The moment you bent to set it down, however, the door swung open to reveal Ghost.
His eyes met yours, then traveled down to the bag in your hand.
“What’s that?” he asked.
You blushed. Why did he have to catch you?
“It’s… um… for you,” you finally blurt and shove the bag at him.
Ghost gives you a suspicious look. He takes it and opens it before you can run. His eyes quickly scan the contents, and he pulls out the “Poison” bottle of face wash. He meets your eyes again. His eyes are nearly unreadable, but you catch a hint of curiosity there.
“Face wash,” you explain. “I thought maybe you’d like your own. And I put in some extra stuff, too. And instructions. If you want. Or if you… don’t.”
*Why* had you thought this was a good idea?
Ghost stares at you for a few more seconds, making you wish the floor would open up and swallow you. Finally, he breaks the silence.
“It was the frickin’ watermelon, wasn’t it?”
You blink. “What?”
“That day we met in the hall. You smelled it, didn’t you?”
“I… I thought I did,” you admit.
“You did a whole three-sixty after I passed,” he accuses. “Shoulda stopped using it then.”
“No!” you quickly say. “No, I’d hoped you’d use it. If you needed to. Or wanted to, even. I didn’t know if you’d really take me up on it.”
Neither of you speak for a moment. He stands there, face wash and bag still in hand.
“I can show you how to use the rest of the stuff if you want,” you suddenly offer.
Ghost gives you a sharp look.
“I mean, I’d do it on my face and explain it. You wouldn’t have to take off your mask or anything. I just thought…” you trail off.
You’ve stared down armed enemies before and not been this nervous. Now you are practically oozing awkwardness. The confident soldier was reduced to a bundle of nerves over a discussion about skin care.
“You wrote instructions, yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He hesitates a moment, shifting the bottle in his hand.
“Better run through it once so I can keep it all straight.”
You give him a bright smile, immediately turning on your heel and making your way to your sink where you keep all of your products. You look around carefully before entering with Ghost, making sure no prying eyes spotted you. Locking the door behind you, you arranged all of your bottles and containers, beginning the lesson.
Ghost listened intently as you explained what each product did and how to best use them, giving a nod here and here. You demonstrated and gave tips, like dabbing the face with the washcloth and towel instead of scrubbing it to avoid further irritation. You went through each step, making sure to take your time.
“And then you take about this much moisturizer,” you say, dabbing a bit on your finger and spreading it. “And you spread it evenly. If you have dry patches, you can give those a little more. But after that, you’re done!”
You turn and give him a smile.
“Thanks,” he says after a moment. “Thanks for… this.” He holds up the bag. “And for this.” He gestures vaguely, probably meaning your little lesson.
“Of course,” you say. “Can’t have my favorite LT going without proper skincare, can we?”
You both stand there a moment more. The silence is not uncomfortable. There’s something there, something unsaid, but you don’t mind. This is enough.
It takes you a moment to realize, but his eyes are smiling back at you.
5K notes · View notes