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bi-writes · 1 day

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more little thoughts about curvy!sunshine!fem!reader and dark!simon (18+)

thinking about being so indifferent to his violence because it has never been directed at you. you had a bad night at the pub--an asshole tried to grab your dress in the brand new white dress you bought, with a puffy little mini skirt, and you had wanted to wear it out and get dressed up. the man had ruined your night; you just wanted to spend it with simon, drinking and spending time together, and as soon as he had his hand up your dress, and simon saw the tears in your eyes, all he could see was red.

you're sitting on the curb outside, sniffling, tears still a little damp on your face as you lick at the cone of ice cream you're holding. you click your heels against the pavement, and you look to the side when you feel a big, warm presence take a seat next to you. his shirt looks damp and sticky, and your eyes dart down to see how his boots smear blood against the ground. you smile a little through your soft tears, reaching over and sliding your arm around his. the tension in his muscles relaxes, and you lean up and kiss his cheek gently.

"did he squirm?" you ask softly as you trace his ungloved hand, running your fingers lightly over the fresh bruises there. "i know you hate it when they cry."

"didn't 'ave time t'cry," he grumbles. he leans over, kissing your forehead through the mask, holding you close. "cut his throat out before he could even think about it. and then i took his hands, luv--" you take a lick of your ice cream before you smile up at him. "didn't deserve 'em since he's had a feel 'f ya."

he lets you paint his nails. you sit on his big thigh, holding his hand up as you smooth black polish over his nail bed. you clean his cuticles and under his fingernails, giving him a nice little manicure before practicing your nail-painting skills. all he does is sit there and grumble as he watches a football game on the telly, not really paying you any mind. when you finish, you smooth lotion over his cracked knuckles and smooth some oil over his nails until they're nice and soft. when you finish, he makes you watch him stuff those fingers into your pretty pussy. he never takes his eyes off the game, but his lips twitch into the lightest smirk as he feels you writhe and squirm beside him, laid back on the couch as you wet his freshly painted nails with cum.

he never lets you cry, not really, because he fucking hates it. if you cry, he tilts your head up towards him, shoving his mask up before dragging his pink tongue up your face and ridding the pretty planes of your cheeks of any evidence. his solution to your sadness, if that doesn't work, is to put his head between your thighs and eat.

he never says no to you. wherever you want to go, he will take you. whatever you want to buy, he will buy it for you. even if it's something you technically can't have, like the vintage purse you see as you window shop with a not for sale tag on it. or the last pair of sparkly barrettes that the woman in front of you snagged first, found at the bottom of your shopping bag the next day. or the job you applied for that you knew you wouldn't get because you bombed the interview--only to receive confirmation in the middle of the night that you got the job, telling simon monday night that your new boss got mugged only a few hours after your interview!

(the bruises on his face are gnarly--and he seems to always avoid you like the plague.)

you break all his supposed boundaries in front of other people, but what they don't understand is that he has boundaries with everyone except for you. when you visit him on base, everyone tenses when you run into the rec room looking for him, slipping into the chair he sits in and taking your place on his lap. but ghost doesn't flinch as he does if others touch him. no, he just places his hand on your back to steady you. when you're out at the pub with his teammates, they stare wide-eyed as you cup his masked cheeks and kiss him all over his face--his eyes, his nose, his cheeks--but all ghost does is pat your ass soothingly and stroke along your hair gently. he stands out in crowds, so imposing and large and broad, and he ignores the stares when a pretty girl bounces into his orbit, taking his hand and pulling him along because simon, i saw this dress, but i need your help getting the zipper up--

there just isn't anyone like you. ghost feels dead, on the inside. he doesn't feel right. he knows something is so wrong inside of him. he wants to eat your glow. it's what he has loved about you since he met you. the unconditional devotion, the big heart you give him, the wet look in your eyes when he does anything for you, even when it includes the bloody stuff. even if he does the wrong thing, even if he kills the wrong man, and you know he is overreacting, you are never mad, never angry. you just kiss his scars and coo in his ear, "it's okay, you didn't know any better, you were just doing it for me, weren't you, baby?"

you give him the validation that he needs to be violent. you tell him it's okay. you aren't afraid of all the gore, of the terrible things he does, of all the things he rights with wrongs. he is quick to anger, and he finds it easy to be judge, jury, and executioner, and all you do is bat your lashes and open your legs and tell him it's okay, simon--it's okay, come here, i miss you.

you suffocate the things that scream in his ears. when it's too loud, you push him to lay down, climb up over him, put your thighs around his head and quiet the noise. you sit your pretty pussy on his mouth, and you ride his face, smoothing a hand over the balaclava that he is too busy to take off. you used to be afraid of being too heavy, of making it hard to breathe for him, but simon is a big boy, and maybe he wants to die, because you taste so sweet, and he always chubs up so easily with his hands digging into your hips and his tongue deep inside of you.

it aches, everything hurts, the world is too loud, but it isn't like this in your flat. it's just right. it's normal. it's safe. simon can be himself, and so can you, and when he is too brooding and terrifying, he looks at you, because if you're still smiling, he isn't too much of anything. and when you think you're talking too fast, when you are second-guessing the dress you want to wear, you look at him, because if he is there, nothing will ever be wrong, and no one can ever hurt you.

simon isn't a good person. you know that. he's quick to the knife. he likes to bite. he commits war crimes, and then he comes home, and no one asks him to explain himself, and no one tells him to stop what he's doing, and when he does it over and over again, all he gets is validation, medals for a job well done, and maybe you're an instigator, too, because you let him fuck you in every position whenever he comes home, a reward for bringing death to whoever was stupid enough to end up at the wrong end of his rifle.

but it's really, really hard to care. as soon as he steps through the door, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor, all of your doubts disappear. all you can do is stare at him in all his gear, swallow the drool that threatens to spill, smile--welcome home, teddy bear!

he is a bear. but you've never been on the receiving end of what scares people. if someone were to ask you what to do, you don't think you'd know what to tell them. you wonder what it is you would tell them if they begged for your help.

run away? or play dead?

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!simon #simon thoughts #sunshine!reader

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papayapiastri · 12 hours

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toying with you.

warnings: smut, thigh-riding. sprinkle of angst.

pairing: LN x Reader

———

it wasn’t often that you watched him train. but today was different. today; he asked you to watch.

No. He instructed you to watch.

Lando could tell something was off with you this morning. When he asked what was wrong you simply said ‘I’m fine’ or ‘don’t worry about it’.

He always knew when you were lying, even by the slightest of ways. Whether it was the way you made your breakfast; swift and without care, or the way you spoke with haste instead of your usual attentiveness.

He always noticed.

But it was just one of those days. no rhyme or reason why you were agitated.

You just were.

Unfortunately, Lando was stubborn and unrelenting. He wasn’t going to stop hounding you until you told him what was wrong. Even going as far as to wrapping his arms around your waist; pulling your frame into his own knowing how addicted you are to the comfort of his hold.

But instead of crawling into his embrace, you pulled back, resting your arms back at your sides with a grumbled sigh.

seriously lan, Im fine, just leave me alone.

As soon as the harsh words flew from your lips, a pang of guilt rang deep within your chest. Lando’s eyes flickered with a mixture of hurt and confusion, you could tell that he was contemplated whether it was something he did; whether it was somehow his fault, however, you didn’t have the energy to deal with it at the moment. Instead, you just walked away before things got worse.

It wasn’t until hours later that you started to feel like yourself again; building up the courage to go seek him out. When you found him, an unsure smile reached your lips as he sat comfortably in the living room, watching a show you couldn’t place. You tried making small talk, asking what he wanted for dinner, asking what he was watching…

…and you were met with nothing.

So many questions, yet after your little outburst this morning, it seemed Lando gave you the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him when you were met with the silence, or the slight shrug of his shoulders.

Childish. yet, you knew you deserved it.

So, you were definitely surprised when you received his text later that evening.

I’ll be in the gym at 7. join me

You stared at the screen. Puzzled. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard; wanting to send a plethora of questions. Never had Lando asked you to join him for his gym sessions. He flippantly claimed you were too much of a distraction.

But before you could respond, a tiny speech bubble bounced across the screen.

wasn’t a question y/n. be there at 7.

Your eyebrows furrowed. no emojis, no x’s or o’s that would be littered through his usual texts.

Just a direct instruction that you felt obligated to follow.

So here you were, attempting to silence your racing thoughts around why Lando asked you to be here. He hadn’t said a word to you since you entered the room. Your skirt delicately brushed against your skin as you watched him; your legs bouncing anxiously as you sat there. waiting. patiently.

You tried distracting yourself with the way the warm sun sizzled against your skin, painting the room with a golden hue. Or the way the heat caused droplets of sweat to hypnotically fall from Lando’s messy curls. Or the way your eyes naturally gazed down to his arms; veins tensed as his hands strained against the grip of the weight above him.

it worked for a moment. that simple distraction.

but now, you found your thoughts consumed by something else…

your thoughtful gaze found itself trailing down, noticing how lando’s shirt rode up ever so slightly; exposing his v-line.

While on a usual day you would be salivating at the outline of his boxers, today, all you could focus on were his thighs as they flexed with even the slightest of movements.

You couldn’t help as your stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight.

stop it. You mentally chastised yourself for objectifying something that was so inherently innocent, but you couldn’t help yourself. there was something so lewd, about the picture in front of you.

The sudden sound of Lando’s trainer snapped you out of your trance. Heat rushed to your cheeks, painting ur skin in a rosy pink hue as you forced yourself to look away. You weren’t about to get caught staring; especially by Lando’s trainer.

A moment passed as they exchange pleasantries, a day well done apparently. You were too distracted to notice, but at least Lando’s tone seemed light as he sent his trainer off with a curt grin.

It wasn’t long before you felt a curious set of eyes fall on you. Analysing. Reading you like you were an open page of his favourite book. “Seems I’m more of a distraction than you are.” He murmured bemusingly “Something on your mind?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, surprise painting your features at Lando’s unexpected blasé nature despite of everything that happened this morning. You shook your head; lazily leaning back onto your seat and crossing your arms in annoyance. “Care to explain why you’ve been ignoring me all day?”

With a click of his tongue, Lando shook his head “Your words y/n, you wanted to be left alone so—" his voice trailed off for a small moment.

“I left you alone.” He shrugged.

You hummed in response. You should have felt content with his response. It made sense. Yet, a part of you still felt jaded and hurt by his cold demeanour towards you.

As if immediately recognising your hesitancy, a tired sigh fell from Lando’s lips. “Come here.” He murmured, extending his hand towards you. Curiously, you pushed yourself off of the couch with a huff, taking small, uncertain strides towards Lando as he eyed you with sincerity.

Before you could react, Lando roughly grabbed your wrist, forcefully tugging your body down to his own as he placed you on his thigh. You squealed at the sudden gesture.

“Lando!” you scolded as strong arms snaked its way around your waist in an attempt to steady you and ur pulsing heart. With a hand to your chest, you attempted to calm your uneven breaths.

Lando couldn’t help the hearty chuckle that bellowed from his chest, not even bothering to hide the smirk that was plastered across his face. He loved seeing you flustered in every way imaginable.

“Sorry.” He muttered nonchalantly. Clearly unapologetic as he brought his hand to your face; his fingers brushing away the stray hairs that found themselves out of place, instead, placing them neatly behind your ear. “Now—” He began, his tone shifting slightly more serious, “Want to tell me what’s been happening in that pretty little head of yours?”

You could barely register the words that were said. Instead, all you could focus on was the friction that bound tight at your core, the thin lace of your panties that suddenly strained against Lando’s skin.

He seemed unaware, still distracted by your hair. the very hair you wish he’d bury his hands in and tug on the strands; maybe he’d call you a little brat for your behaviour this morning—

You silently wondered if he could see right through you. What you were thinking. The fact that even the smallest of movements could crumble your resolve.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes widened as they snapped to his. His smirk had fallen to a boyish grin as his gaze swirled with newfound amusement. He tilted his head, trailing his fingers from your hair to your jawline. With a hum, he spoke lowly, “If you’re not interested in talking about this morning, why don’t you tell me what’s got you so flustered?”

Lando’s jaw clenched as he assessed you. every movement, every flinch. Anything that could give away the clear desire that you felt building at your core.

You sighed heavier than expected. “I’m not flustered. I’m annoyed.”

“With me?” He tilted his head curiously whilst his fingers continued their exploration down the side of your throat, crossing over every divet before letting his hand rest behind your neck. His grip was light, but noticeable. Your skin exploded in goosebumps at the anticipation of something more. You wanted, needed, something more.

“Especially with you.”

“Mm…” he hummed approvingly, wetting his lips as his other hand began its teasing assault on your hips, drawing up your skirt ever so slightly as he tightened his grip. “Anything I can do to fix that?”

You shook your head. attempting to use one of your hands to push yourself off of him. This time, you weren’t surprised at the sudden clutch of your wrist. However, you were surprised by how easy it was for Lando to pull you further into him. The harsh movement causing his muscles to flex, sending pulsating waves to your core. You bite the inside of cheek, attempting to hold in the whimpers that threatened to escape, but nothing could hide the rosiness that burned across your skin. A constant reminder of Lando’s effect over your body.

“Are you sure y/n?” he teased, softly grabbing the side of your cheeks with his index finger and thumb before bringing his face close to your ear.

“you must be so...” you could barely hear his voice as he murmured sweetly against your skin, trailing soft fleeting kisses trailing down your neck. “frustrated.”

Your hands curl around his shirt, gripping the cotton as you attempted to ignore the delicious assault. “You’re toying with me?” you mutter, taking in shallow breaths as your eyes flutter closed; your senses consumed by Lando’s every movement.

You feel him smile against your skin “only because you’re letting me.”

“Admit it.” he whispered, leaving lingering kisses across your collarbone. The feeling of his lips hovering against your sensitive skin sent electric shocks down your spine. So much so, you didn’t even notice how your back arched; your head tipping ever so slightly to give lando access to even more of you.

He sighed longingly against you “Spending the whole day without me to get you off. You were practically drooling the minute you saw me.”

Embarrassed couldn’t begin to describe how you were feeling, but it was especially made worse by the amused laugh that reverberated from the man in front of you. “Talk to me baby— ‘miss your sweet voice.”

“What’s got you so needy for me?”

There was no hiding from Lando. You could either tell the truth and face the potential lifetime of embarrassment that would soon follow, or, lie, and not get what you wanted.

What you really needed.

Let’s face it. you weren’t in the mood to be denied.

not tonight, atleast.

“Your thighs.” You murmured. Barely a whisper, barely a breath. You wondered if he even heard you. especially since he didn’t seem to react to your words. Instead, his chaste kisses travelled up your neck; one planted softly on your cheek before reaching messily to the side of your lips.

Lando pulled back for a moment, shamelessly admiring you. While you averted his gaze, you took a peek at him through your eyelashes; attempting to fight the thrashing heat against your skin. “There we go.” He hummed approvingly. “Was that so hard?” He tilted his head, a familiar sense of mischief dancing on his features.

But a moment of silence followed. Any sense of urgency that Lando had seemingly dissipated as he lazily leaned back, continuing to assess your features. His hands clutched around your wrists; taking away any possible chance of escape.

“Well?” You snapped. all this work to get you to admit something so humiliating and depraved and now… nothing?

“Well what?” he questioned with a scoff. “You think I’m going to help you?” You could tell he was still toying with you. Clearly, he was still mad about this morning.

“I’m just respecting your wishes baby.”

What a childish little prick— Heat returned to your cheeks, as you realised what he was doing. you tried averting his gaze, pulling your hands back so you could leave, but you couldn’t, he was too strong. Any tug at your wrists would be met with him pulling you back tenfold.

With a click of his jaw and a boyish grin he cut the tension with his teasing voice, “Come on baby; you don’t need to ask, just take what you need from me. Anything to make you feel better.” His tone dripped with mockery, there was something about it that felt so degrading, almost as if he enjoyed seeing you clearly suffer; clearly needing more than what he was willing to give.

You shook your head: your lips in an ‘o’ shape as you sat there in disbelief. a small moment passed, one that felt like a lifetime.

Fuck it. If he’s so adamant on playing this game with you, then you might as well win it.

“You’re fucking insufferable.” you murmur, forcing yourself out his grip to plant your hands into his curly strands; leaning your body further into him and positioning yourself perfectly against his thigh.

Pulling at the strands, a low groan rumbled from Lando’s chest. The sound sending waves of pure euphoria through your body as you repeated the same assault he practiced on you; nipping and pulling at his skin with each intense kiss.

You whined lowly as you felt Lando’s hand begin to travel under your shirt, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to reappear on your skin as he slowly traced across your stomach; your chest; before roughly gripping your breast. it didn’t take long for your body to respond to his, melding into one another.

You needed him. His fingers, his tongue. his cock. anything that could help release the tension that pooled at your core. Hiding your face into the nape of his neck, you planted small kisses against his skin; revelling in the faint oud smell of his cologne; continuing to roll your hips against him to aid the lingering ache between your legs.

“Has my baby become a slut for me just from my thighs?” You hear Lando tease yet his voice sounded far as you remained trapped in the sensations of his hands. His fingers drew hypnotic circles around your nipple as his other hand harshly tugged at your hips, rhythmically following your own movements. For a small moment. You wondered whether Lando knew how strong he actually was, whether was aware that the tight grip he had on you were would leave haunting bruises on your skin the next day. marking you as his, and only his.

You pulled away from him, causing his fingers to fall from your delicate skin. You look down, frustration clearly plastered across your features. “please lan.” you whimper softly. You felt your pleasure building ever-so-slightly; waves of heat radiating across your whole body yet—

it wasnt enough, it would never be enough. You knew that. He knew that.

“Please what?” his mocking tone sent a shiver coursing through your spine as he tilted his head. - slight curve teased his lips. “You had so much to say this morning, but now, it seems you can barely find your words.”

“Stop punishing me.” You grumbled.

“Punishing you?”

“I’m not punishing you y/n. you’re the one who told me you wanted to be left alone.” He said matter-of-factly. Even so, his eyes lingered downwards, watching as his fingers trailed over your exposed thighs, across the soft skin before planting himself right between your legs, tracing over the delicate fabric; hovering over the sensitive nerves that ached to be touched.

“Look at you. you’ve made such a mess for me already and I’ve barely even touched you baby.” His other hand rested around the nape of your neck; his thumb gently tapping the side of your throat, as if he was teasing the thought of tightening his grip.

You hated it. You hated how humiliated you felt. Lando had you melting on top of him, writhing in the most degrading way imaginable without so much as a thought of release for you.

You turned your head slightly, a breathy sigh leaving your lips at the realisation.

“Y/n.” Lando called knowingly; pulling your focus back to him before your thoughts could sabotage you further.

Your attention snapped back to his as his eyes trailed longingly over your features. “if you need me, you better start using your words. no more hiding in that pretty little head of yours.”

it was funny that even in such a intimate moment Lando tried to counsel you, make you feel better; safe, supported. He’d been that way your whole relationship; which only made you feel even more guilty for snapping at him this morning.

fine. he wants me to use my words. so be it.

You pondered his words with a small smile before leaning in, wrapping your arms around his tense shoulders. Your lips brushed against his in the slightest of touches. “Lan, I need you. ‘need you so fucking bad.” You weren’t afraid of a little begging, you knew how much he loved it.

Your fingers trailed the back of his neck before delving back into his hair. “Need your fingers to help get me off, d‘you think you can do that for me baby?” You whispered.

His eyes widened at your sudden directness. “Fuck…” he hissed as you tugged on his curls. you could tell he was caught off guard, but that quickly washed away as you felt his grip tighten around your waist; guiding your hips as they rolled against him. “There’s my sweet girl.” he muttered. Fingers that were previously wrapped around your neck disappeared into your panties; the large digits not even hesitating to roughly push against your aching clit.

You felt that familiar pressure build and build as his fingers circled your core. Controlled and rough.

It didn’t take long for the melding of pleading whines and pleasured moans to fill the room, you begged for more, and more, and more; pushing your hips further into him as Lando praised, worshipped and fulfilled you completely. “So beautiful— so fucking wet for me.” he muttered harshly; possessively.

It only took his sinful tone to send you to the point of no return; pulsing waves flooding your body leaving you a whimpering mess in Lando’s hold to keep you steady as he continued to shower you with affirmations “that’s it baby, cum all over my thigh; show me desperate you are for me.”

You felt his movements slow, giving you a chance to breathe while sending aftershocks up and down your spine. You hid yourself in his neck, exhaustion hitting you out of no where. You left a small kiss at the base of his neck as your heart rate attempted to lower itself.

Lando comfortingly trailed his other hand down your back. “See baby, a lot of good can come from using your words.” He quipped lowly.

“Should try it again next time.”

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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 2 days

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pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

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yueebby · 2 days

Note

Ok so this is a random and weird scenario i thought of after watching some INTERESTING videos on YouTube, I know but I just need to tell someone(it involves lovesick!Gojo- and no this isn’t a request, more like a rant😭)

imagine- it’s summer and all the second year students are sweating and want something cool to eat. Satoru randomly brings in a watermelon and challenges the others to try and open it without any cursed energy or a knife, just pure raw strength. Nobody can do it except him and he laughs a bit before reader crushes the watermelon between her thighs and opens it just like that…IDK Y I THOUGHT OF THIS AND IDK HOW HE WOULD REACT TO THAT BUT I IMAGINE HE WOULD BE RED IN THE FACE AND LIKE ‘me next🙋‍♂️’ IM SRY IM AWARE THIS IS VERY WEIRD😭😭

2:35pm — gojo satoru

synopsis. a certain challenge makes gojo go feral for you

contents. fluff, CRACK, lovesick!gojo, he is (highkey) a pervert, everyone in jujutsu tech is sick of him

“The one and only Gojo Satoru is here to save the day~” The familiar drawl of a sing-song voice calls over the sound of the dingy fan that you and Shoko were huddling in front of. Both of you were sprawled on a tatami mat with the door wide hoping, hoping to catch a gust of wind.

The grin adorned on his face didn't falter when his only response was three annoyed groans.

“It is way too hot for your antics Gojo,” You look up from the fan to half heartedly glare at the white haired boy in front of you. He stares at you, blue eyes slightly wider than usual before he gulps. You brush it off, knowing that you probably looked like a mess, considering you had just finished training in the sweltering Tokyo heat.

Your usual uniform is long gone, replaced with the dress shirt that you wear below it. Even with the undershirt and your skirt, you’re still suffering from the particularly hot day, skin glowing in the sun as a silent testament.

Gojo is forcibly kicked out of his trance upon Suguru harshly bumping shoulders with him.

“Show them what we got,” Suguru’s smooth voice says. Your eyes follow down to whatever he was referring to.

Without any difficulty, Satoru holds up a large watermelon proudly. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the large green fruit. How refreshing!

“Ah you didn’t have to go through the trouble after your mission, Suguru!” You leap from your spot, a bright smile painting itself on your face.

The pleased look on Satoru’s face turns sour. “I was the one that brought the watermelon?” He lifts the large fruit, flexing the muscles that were showcased from his dress shirt being cuffed up to his forearms.

“I should be the one getting the thanks, it was my idea to get it in the first place,” Shoko wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The taller boys in front of you look sheepishly away under her stern gaze.

You wrap an affectionate arm around her, “You’d make a good wife one day Shoko.”

Gojo’s jaw drops incredulously, leaning closer into your face, “What about me? [Name]! Wouldn’t I be a good doting husband too?”

You lean away, flustered at his sudden confrontation. His intense blue orbs never leave your face, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shoko snorts, shielding you from his heavy gaze. “Anyways, how are we going to cut this thing? You brought a knife didn’t you?”

…

There is a long silence shared between the four of you.

You think you see an irk mark appear on Suguru’s forehead.

“I clearly told you to bring a knife from the kitchen,” Suguru snaps his head to his white haired counterpart.

“Must’ve slipped my mind, heh,” Satoru whistles. “We can just break it ourselves, no?”

TEN MINUTES LATER—

“Ready,” Satoru’s smile grows wide. “Go!”

You watch expectantly as Shoko’s hand descends onto the watermelon in a swift chop. To your shock, the watermelon stays unharmed despite the legs of the wooden table below it creaking loudly.

“Wha–?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

Satoru shrugs, “Better stop smoking and start training. You’re falling behind~”

You and Geto have to hold Shoko back from lunging at the smug white haired bastard.

“Next challenger, step up!” Satoru announces.

Fueled with hunger and the desire to get your hands on the juicy watermelon that awaits, you sit down on the cement floor of the school with the watermelon in your lap.

You gently place the fruit in between your thighs, inhaling slowly.

Squish!

The watermelon breaks in half with a crunch.

“Oh,” You blink in shock, surprised that your plan managed to work. “I did it.”

Your joy is short lived when you realize that your legs are sticky as a result of the juices of the fruit. A sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.

“Gah–?!” Gojo chokes on air as he watches your thighs glisten with the sunlight. Though his mouth is agape, no words seem to escape. He’s nearly certain that the heat rushing throughout his body is not from the sun.

Shoko whistles, squatting down to eye level with your thigh to assess the damage done. She gives your thigh a good squeeze, “Nice legs.”

You’re too flustered to hear Gojo growl from just a couple of feet away at Shoko’s shameless attempt at flirting.

“My face next.”

extras:

- the only reason why satoru forgot to get a knife was because he was practically skipping to you once he got through the gates of jujutsu tech. suguru was nice enough to spare these details from you.

- despite all sorcerers being able to detect cursed energy, gojo satoru is pretty exceptional, being able to mask his cursed energy usage. that, and you were too tired to even notice it. (he lightly coated the watermelon right when each person went up to break it. suguru noticed immediately, but wanted to see how the prank would play out).

#was i sober writing this? errrrr #kt.fantasies—!#gojo x reader #jjk fluff

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clockwayswrites · 19 hours

Text

Another Red - Bunny Nose

Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes, even though it wouldn’t be seen behind his lenses. “You can stop lurking, I know you’re there.”

“I let you.”

“You were obvious,” Danny said.

“Let you,” Black Bat said again, her voice almost sing-song.

It would be a fair argument with anyone else, Danny figured. She was absolutely silent as she moved across the roof to sit next to him. If he was a normal person, he probably wouldn’t know that she was there.

But he wasn’t normal.

“I could tell anyways,” Danny said with a little shrug. He let himself rock slightly as Black Bat bumped their shoulders together. He gave a little snort but didn’t move away. “I can. You’ve got a… presence about you.”

“Rabbit special power?”

“I don’t know how that name stuck,” Danny grumbled instead of answering. How did he explain being dead? That was too weird to go into, even to someone dressed like a bat. “I don’t look much like a rabbit.”

“Idea. Idea for weeks,” Black Bat said, sounding almost smug. “But you always run.”

“Yeah.”

“Not tonight.”

Danny shrugged again, their shoulders brushing with the motion. “Yeah. I’m… I’m just tired of running. Tonight I just wanted to… to enjoy the night.”

That didn’t even began to explain it, but it was all the words that Danny had for the horrible bubble of feelings under his rib cage.

“I should go?” Black Bat offered.

Danny leaned a little of his weight against their touching shoulders. It felt so nice to just be like this next to someone again, it made Danny’s heart give a lurch. “Naw, you seem nice and calm. You can stay. Just us though?”

“Others are busy,” she promised, going as far to actually cross her heart.

Danny gave a little bark of laughter that was joined by Black Bat’s almost silent laugh. When their short burst of laughter faded, they were left with the sounds of Gotham at night: people on the street talking, the mechanical rumble of the tram, an echoing siren in the distance. It was hardly the sounds Danny had grown up with, but they were starting to be comforting. Maybe Gotham could be home some day too.

“Present time?” Black Bat asked after several minutes of quiet.

Danny turned enough to look at Black Bat in confusion. “Present…?”

“Yes, idea present,” she said as if that explained anything.

It didn’t.

“Okay…?”

“Eyes closed.”

That made Danny hesitate. That was a lot of trust. But he was already letting her close enough to touch him. He’d seen Black Bat in motion and knew that she could take him down in an instant if she wanted. Giving in, Danny sighed just to make a point of it but closed his eyes as told.

When something pressed on the muzzle of his mask he jerked back instinctively, earning a tut from Black Bat. He tried not to move anymore as the touch continued or when he felt nimble fingers in his hair. The longer it continued, the more the touch in his hair was actually soothing. He could almost relax like this. When was the last time that he had relaxed?

Danny swayed a little as the fingers pulled away and Black Bat steadied him by the shoulder for a moment before her touch left him completely.

“Eyes open.”

She had a tiny camera pointed at him when he did and snapped a photo. Danny was still blinking the flash away as she quickly turned the camera around it around to show him the view screen.

Perched in his hair, right in the middle, was a headband with two little black rabbit ears. On his mask, Black Bat had drawn with some sort of bright red paint pen. Five simple lines made up a stylized rabbit nose and mouth. Danny found himself laughing, bright and loud and true.

“No.”

“Adorable,” Black Bat insisted.

Danny tried to stifle his laughter. “I am not wearing bunny ears to fight crime!”

“You are not fighting crime!” Black Bat insisted with a jab at Danny’s shoulder. “You are rescue.”

“Sure.”

“Rescue only!”

Danny raised his hands. “I said sure!”

“Sarcastic sure,” Black Bat grumbled.

“Still a sure.”

She sigh with a despondent air and slumped against Danny again. Danny didn’t mind the grumbling, it was still just nice to be touched. It was still just nice to be noticed by people who didn’t just want him gone. He’d take a few sighs and the bizarre rabbit theming to keep this.

Wasn’t that a fucking weird thought? To maybe let the Bats close. To maybe let them really see him. To maybe let them care. Would they care, if he let them?

Danny didn’t know if he was brave enough to find out.

---

AN: I needed something to write and @wolfjackle asked about the bunny face on this art. Cass decided to be responsible for that.

Stay strong darlings, strong and delightful.

#dp x dc #another red #batpham

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worldofkuro · 2 days

Text

Painted Smile

Painted Smile X

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

<- Previous Chapter

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I won't lie it was a difficult chapter because Reader's psyche is changing but without this I loved this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did ! There is fluff but beware there are racism, killing envy and blood. But nothing too bad I think... yet. I really hope you'll love it, it's the turning point of the story !

You woke up against Alastor's naked chest, still enveloped in blankets. You could feel him playing with your hair while humming a song you’ve heard on the radio. You tilted your head toward him, watching his face wearing his usual smile.

“ Hello, dear.” he whispered. You kissed his cheeks and put your head back against his warm chest. You could feel his body being more tense than usual, maybe being almost naked against each other made him uncomfortable? You tried to sit up but he pushed your head against his chest once again. “ Stay…”

You hummed, caressing his scars. It was strange, the skin color was different depending if there were scars but you were surprised by how smooth it was. You couldn’t tell the difference between his scars and his skin.

“ Who did this to you..?” you whispered. Even though you both were alone in the cottage, cut from the outside world by the snowstorm you didn’t want to break the comfortable and quiet atmosphere. You felt like, if you began to talk louder, Alastor would shield himself from you. You felt him take a big deep breath before speaking a word you couldn't help but expect.

“ My father.” He sighed.

“ Do you wish to talk about it?”

“ What is there to tell, dear? The man who owned the title of being my father had my mother pregnant, he wanted to be a perfect man so he married her. It was a gamble that failed. I was born and he would beat me or my mother if we were acting a little too “ black” for him, with his belt, his fists, cold water and so many other things. He teached me how to hunt, how to kill, how to hurt… I know so many things that would make you run away from me, my dear friend…” he hugged you tighter.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this angry. The man you have met many times, the very man who hurted Alastor, has always been close to you and you’ve never seen it. You tried not to imagine Alastor being alone in his room being beaten hard by his father while trying not to cry while holding onto Eamon. Had you hurted him when you would smash into his arms for a hug? Had you hurted him when you would jump on his back because you didn’t want to be walking because you were oh so tired. Why didn’t you realize that Eamon’s fur was getting redder and redder because Alastor was bleeding on him because of his father. Why did you not realize that Alastor didn’t want to let Marie alone in this house because there was a demon living among them.

“ Dear?”

“ I hope he dies during the war.”

There was a silence before Alastor tilted your head by your chin toward his face. His eyes had the same warm glint but there was something else, something darker that seemed to try to stay hidden. He was looking at you, observing you like he was searching for some kind of answer. You tried to show how angry you were, you wanted your eyes to give the answer Alastor was looking for.

“ And if I told you I didn’t wish for him to be killed during war?”

Your eyes widened. What?

“ Alastor.. I know he is your father and maybe you still feel some kind of bond with him but you shouldn’t. He doesn’t even deserve to be killed as a soldier, he should be taken by the enemy, tortured until he can’t even spell his own name. Being eaten by dogs. No, it would be bad meat for the dogs. He should just get his members cut off, his tongue eaten by rats, he shou–” you gasped as Alastor kissed you, pressing your body against his own. Why was he kissing you so passionately when you were talking about how his father should die.

He leaned back with a soft smile, that dangerous glint in his eyes back. You tilted your head, you didn't finish talking, it was rude of him.

“ Aah.. Darling, you are…” he sighed in bliss as you felt his nails dug comfortably into your waist.” What if.. What if I told you I didn't want him to be killed because..” he stared at you a moment before speaking again.” I want to be the one to kill him.”

You shivered even though you were against Alastor’s warm chest and under several blankets. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? You were staring at him while he was observing you, waiting for your reaction. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? Well, you did want the bastard dead and Alastor deserved his revenge but to kill.. to kill another human being…

“ Killing him…? But …”

“ Don’t see him as living being my dear, he isn’t worth the title. Think of it.. Like I’m going to hunt a dangerous animal that needs to be put down. I’m just like your ideal Prince charming , aren’t I? Killing dangerous people for his loved one?” He tilted his head with a soft smile.

You couldn’t help but nod. What he was saying was true. Killing his father would be a great thing. You were beginning to scared yourself as you felt no remorse or guilt to think about Alastor killing his father, his own blood. Why would you? He didn’t deserve to live after what he had done to Alastor and Marie. The idea didn’t scare you but your thoughts did. Deep inside you, you knew you weren’t scared because this idea was coming from Alastor. You trusted him with your life.

“ How would you kill him?” you asked, curiously. You giggled as he kissed you everywhere on your face. His body, once tense, was beginning to relax a little. You didn’t know what you had done but it seemed like your gave the answer Alastor was waiting for.

“ How I’m going to kill him, you mean. I have many ideas my dear! By knife, rifle or maybe by strangling him?” he pondered as he stared at the ceiling with a happy grin.

“ Won’t he be able to scream if you strangle him?” you asked. You remembered, when you were playing with your cousins, some would play a little too hard and would “strangle” you. You would just scream so your mother would come and scold your cousins.

“ Oh trust me dear, if you do it right, you can’t scream for help.”

“ How do you know?”

“ Well, I tried to scream for my mother one day.” he smiled at you and you felt angrier than you were minutes ago. His bastard father had strangled Alastor when he was a kid. What a demon! He really didn’t deserve to be alive! “ I have so many ideas!”

“ You know, If you really happened to kill him, I wouldn’t tell a soul… In fact.. If you need me at that moment.. I promise, I’ll be there.” you said sure of yourself. You did not know if you could handle everything but you’ll be by Alastor’s side from the beginning. You didn’t know if you could kill… It was a thought too far from your morals but helping Alastor if he happened to be injured or something else… That, you would do it.

“ Oh dear.. Don’t tell me that, you’re going to make me say things I’m not ready to tell yet.” he sighed dreamily as he tilted his head backwards. Now, that made you curious. What could Alastor be hiding, he just told you he planned to murder his father, what more could you be hiding ? You smiled as you nipped his neck, making him shiver.

“ Like what? Tell me. Tell me!” you smiled as you kept kissing him on his jaws, his cheeks and his nose. “ Come on now, you just told me you wanted to kill your father, what more can’t you tell me ?” you whined before settling against him once more. You closed your eyes and listened to his heartbeat. It was fast…

“ Fine… Dearest, once I have killed my father,” you hummed while he took your hand in his. “ Would you marry me?”

…

Oh Lord.

You sat up, staring at him. He was looking at you, kissing the back of your hand. You were shaking, did he .. did he..?

“ I won’t lie, I still don’t know what Love is about. I just know that I want you to be by my side, I don’t think I could remain sane if I were to see your attention shifting to someone else. Just like Narcissus with his own reflection, I can’t get enough of you and yet I feel so fulfilled when you are by my side. I’m… I think I may be obsessed with you. You are the person who brought my human heart to life, how odd. I know it’s not the love you read about or you wish for.. I don’t even know if this is love. But this is what I feel for you, and I don’t think I’ll be able to feel it for anyone else, heck, I don’t want to feel it for anyone else…I want you caged with me. I want you to think about me just like I’m always thinking about you.” he stared at you, waiting for your answer, caressing your trembling hand. His eyes were shaking but he kept his gaze on you, observing your reactions. “ Would you accept my mad affection?”

You were shaken. You were with Alastor, almost naked, sitting on his pelvis with a blanket around you and a snowstorm outside.You felt hot. So hot. Alastor wanted to marry you. He wanted you to be his wife? It felt like everything clicked in your brain. Each time you were running after him, each time you wanted to make him like you, each time you wanted him to see you as a lady, each time you asked him to let you enter into his mind, each time you felt anger when a woman would come close to him, each time you wanted him to watch you and only you.

You were madly in love and obsessed with Alastor.

You read so many love novels… The prince never asked the princess to marry after telling her he was going to kill his father. The prince never asked the princess to think about him only. Their love was pure, not tainted by obsession, not tainted by the immense need to be by their lover’s side… Their love was not like what was happening right now.

And yet you couldn’t be happier.

You smiled at him, your vision blurry because of the tears blinding your eyes.

“ Alastor.. I may be just a foolish sixteen year old girl. Maybe your obsession will pass when you see I have nothing to offer you but trust me, my affection for you has been present since the day I laid my eyes on you.” you felt him squeeze your hand harder as you continued your confession.” We are both young, so maybe you’ll change your mind. You’ll find a proper woman but I know that you are the only man I wish for in my life. The only man I wish I would marry…” you sobbed as you squeezed his hand back as he stared at you with clear obsession in his eyes. He leaned toward you, whispering against your lips.

“ Say it.. Say it..” he begged.

“ Yes, Alastor, I will marry you.”

He kissed you with a big smile you couldn’t help but imitate. He hugged you against him so hard you felt pain in your chest but you didn't care. You squeezed him as hard as you could, you’ve never felt happier.

“I feel like this is too good to be true…” you heard him say against your skin. You couldn’t help but laugh while wiping your eyes. You leaned back as you took both of his hands in yours.

“ It’s true.. I feel like.. Once we leave this place, everything would be a faraway dream.” you sighed with a soft smile. You felt like you were dreaming right now…

“ I.. May have an idea for that.” he smirked at you as you tilted your head, confused. “ I find myself being interested in voodoo.” he held his hand in front of your mouth as you gasped. “ No worry darling, voodoo is not a barbaric religion. It’s in my blood, I found books about it and where it came from. And, there are some rituals that can bind souls together… Would you like to try it?”

“ For real?” you said, astonished. From what you heard, voodoo was a banned religion because it was witchcraft which came from black people. You didn’t really find yourself into religion, men killed for religion no matter which one. But if voodoo was something Alastor’s looked into and was coming from his ancestors, that could be interesting.

“ Yes indeedy. They wrote it as a curse though but…” you peck his nose before he could continue.

“ Yes, I want to.” you smiled. “ How do we do it?”

“ I don’t have the book with me right now. But it’s very specific.. I’ll need some of your blood.” he said carefully but soon his expression turned to surprise as you ran toward the kitchen and gave back with a knife. “ Well, aren’t you in a hurry to be bound to me body and soul?” he said with a teasing smile.

“ Oh, you are right, we can wait.” you said and smiled delightedly when you saw his expression twitched. You knew that Alastor would be the less patient of the both of you for this kind of thing, for you, which was surprising, he was known to be patient, very patient. “ Here I was, ready to make my ring finger bleed.” you shook your head with a saddened expression. “ How foolish…”

“ Dear…”

“ Seems like I’m in no hurry to become your wife!” you squeaked as Alastor tugged you against his chest with a smile so big it almost looked like inhuman.

“ Dearest, don’t play with me. Not with that.” he gently took the knife from your hand. “ No need for this. If you accepted, I could cut you.” he looked at you, seeming unsure. You tilted your head, cutting yourself seemed scary indeed.

“ It’s going to hurt, right..?” you asked softly. You watched as he played smoothly with the knife in his hand. You wished you knew how to do it…

“ I’ll try to make it so you don’t feel anything.”

“ No. I want to feel it. I want to feel this moment.” you said sure of yourself. Tonight would mark the first step of becoming Alastor’s wife, body and soul. You would be damned together or go to heaven together, there were no in between. You saw Alastor’s smile widened, it seemed like he was sharing the same feeling as you about this situation.

You looked as he sunk softly the knife’s edge into your skin. You shivered as you bit your lips, you were feeling no pain. You remembered in your romance books, normally the woman would be crying as the prince would pass the ring on her fingers. And yet, here you were, letting Alastor cut your skin and enjoying it.

He took a napkin from the table and held it against your bleeding finger.

“ Are you okay?” he asked, observing your reaction once more. You nodded, you don’t think you could feel even better ! He put the napkin on this table with a satisfied smile before you pinned him on the sofa, hugging him against you.

“ I’m the happiest girl in the whole world !” you shouted before leaving the sofa, leaving there a confused smiling Alastor, and you jumped everywhere. You couldn’t wait to tell your mother, your father, Alice ! You squealed in delight as you jumped around under Alastor’s soft gaze.

“ You gave me the best birthday’s present.” he said as he stood up. You grinned at him, his birthday was tomorrow, you needed to prepare the food. Even if you knew nobody would be coming, it was for the better!

You took Marie’s recipes’s book, still with the blankets around you.

“ Let your future wife cook for you!” you smiled confidently.

Alastor let you in the kitchen for 15 minutes before running back because he smelt fire. You just smiled sweetly at him with a burned stove. Alastor sighed with a tender smile before helping you cook. You wanted to try to cook something spicy, that’s why you had asked Alice to bring hot pepper for his birthday.

“ Do you think you could eat one and handle it ?” you teased him. He just looked at you and ate a whole pepper without flinching. You stared at him in shock. He winked at you before giving you a hot pepper with a mocking smile.

“ Could you handle it?”

You scoffed and took the hot pepper in your hands. If Alastor did it, you could do it! You took the whole hot pepper in your mouth and swallowed it. You waited a little then laughed at Alastor.

“ I had worse at my– Oh my god..” you stopped every movement as your felt pure fire began to grow inside of you. You felt tears streaming down your face as you coughed, holding on Alastor’s arms as he was laughing so hard you could see tears on the side of his eyes. “ Alastor, help me!” you tried to fan your tongue, jumping around as Alastor held himself against the wall, crying of laughter.

“ Haha! Dear, drink milk ! milk!” he laughed as he pointed to the fridge. You ran toward it and slammed its door open. Did you even have milk? Yes! You took the bottle and drank messily the milk until the bottle was half full. “ Oh dear… Would you like a kiss after this horrible experiment?” he smiled as he walked toward you, but as he leaned closer to your face you almost could feel the hot pepper still on his lips.

You ran away, screaming at him. You didn’t want to feel this pain anymore! You were screaming as Alastor ran behind you, his laughter echoing in the little cottage.You couldn’t help but smile, if this scene would represent your future with Alastor, you would love it!

After your battle, easily won by Alastor’s lips against yours, you went back to cooking. Alastor was showing you how to cook and you took notes. It seemed so easy from his movement. You were almost jealous but then you began to smile as you remembered that you would see this scene every day in the future.

“ You have such a big smile dear, does watching me cooking bring you such pleasure?” he asked teasingly. You stuck your tongue at him, you knew he was happier than he let on. His smile was more genuine and his body was more relaxed than you've ever seen him.

After an hour you went back to the living room, near the fire and ate Alastor’s cooking. You called your mothers to reassure them that everything was good and you were safe. You gossiped, played a few games, like poker and Alastor was way too good about it , you would just throw a pillow at him each time he would wink at you, meaning he knew he had won. You took a nap against Alastor’s chest and when you woke up it was almost midnight. You stood up from his chest and were surprised to see Alastor asleep. Maybe being away from everything, with you had made him relaxed enough that his body could sleep? You smiled and went to the kitchen and took a cake out of the fridge. You tried to make a coffee cake two days ago, you hoped it was still good… You put the candle on the cake and lit them up before walking toward the living room.

You saw an awaken Alastor turning his head toward you as you sat in front of him on your knees, with a soft smile and whispered in the quiet room.

“ Happy birthday, Alastor”

~~~

“ Happy birthday Alastor!” you all cheered and brough your glasses together. You were in a bar with jazz playing, celebrating the new year and Alastor’s 23th birthday. Alice was there, with some of Alastor’s friends, you didn’t really remember all of their names but one, Mimzy. It was a name you never heard of so it stuck with you.

Alastor has become a real man. He was taller than most people, his frame was deceivingly slim, his smile was as broad as ever, his hair were a little longer than when he was younger and as always , he had his glasses on. He was grinning as everyone congratulated him for his birthday. You looked at Alice with a soft smile.

Alice had changed too. Long gone was the sweet innocent looking girl, she was now a beautiful woman who was confident in any way. She had cut her long hair, now they ended toward her shoulder. She looked at you and winked.

“ Another shot?”

You laughed and nodded but Alastor stood up.

“ My dear friend, what a day to celebrate the new year and myself. I have happy news to share.” all of you looked at Alastor, waiting for him to tell you his news. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile, he was such an attention seeker. “ My voice is going to keep you company most of the day as I have been hired in a radio station.” he said with a proud smirk, his eyes never leaving yours. You shouted of pure happiness, standing up so abruptly the chair fell down behind you. You clapped just like the rest of the people around the table.

“ I knew you would do it, sweetie!” said Mizmy, giving him a side hug.

“ I'm paying for another round of shots!” you exclaimed with a big smile. You didn't even wait for everyone to tell you what they wanted. You were already going toward the barman. You were really walking straight but who cared, everyone here was busted.

“ Heya doll, whatcha want?”

“ Give me your strongest.” you said while pointing to your table. He nodded and you went back to your table who were still praising Alastor. You sat back down next to Alice.

“ Hearing Alastor’s voice all day? Ugh, I’ll have to endure it.” she said with an amused expression. You laughed, Alastor and Alice always say they didn’t like each other but when it was for you, they would team up.

“ I can’t wait to hear his voice on the radio. You don’t understand, we’ve been waiting for it since childhood!” you said with a nostalgic smile. You remembered your sleepover and your childish broadcast… Aah, how time flies. You smiled as the waitress put the shots on the table with a whole bottle of whiskey.

“ Order from the house.” she said flirty before leaving. You all took one shot and drank it. You try not to grimace, this one was really strong. You laughed as you saw Alice’s head fall against the table.

“ Oh, this one was a bitch.”

“ You need more training, love.” you heard Mimzy say to Alice as she tapped her back. You looked at Alastor who didn’t even flinch. He was talking with one of his friends but you knew better… Those friends must be useful in some way. Your expression lifted up as you heard a song you wanted to dance to. You moved Alastor’s friend out of your way and dragged him on the dancefloor. You laughed as he began to spinned you.

“ Are you sure you can handle me in that state, love?” he taunted you as he spinned you back against his broad chest. You winked at him, you may be more than tipsy but you weren’t drunk yet. You could handle him. You began to dance with Alastor, quickly being the center of all attention. You knew every step by heart, Alastor could throw you in the air you would just close your eyes and wait for him to catch once again.

After a lot of dances, you went back to your table as Alastor danced with Mimzy. You sat next to Alice, making air with your hand. So hot.

“ I won’t lie, there is so much tension between you I don’t know how you don’t just.. jump each other when you both are alone.” Alice said before drinking a glass of whiskey.

You laughed, smacking her arms. There have been moments where Alastor and you would make out so intensely you would get ready to give him your virginity but he always said to be patient and wait for your future wedding night even if it was killing you both. You respected his decision, you would wait for your wedding. The only person who knew what had happened in the cottage, the only one who knew about your promise, for Alastor 17th birthday was Alice, who almost broke every damn mirror with her screams.

“ What? Look at you ! You’re like.. ethereal ! And I’m the one saying that.” she said before slipping her hair to one side of her shoulder. You grinned, you did grow up well. Your mother was so proud of you and even your father. When your father had returned from war he was badly injured so you took upon yourself to be his personal nurse. You weren’t a perfect nurse but you knew how to clean wounds, do stitches, you weren’t disgusted by the sight of blood anymore. And to top it all off, you were used to seeing Alastor bring back dead animals from his hunt now. You weren’t the fragile little girl anymore. Something your parents would missed sometimes, but from your friends point of view and even Alastor’s, you could still be endearingly naive.

“ And what about you Alice? The jewel of New Orleans? No one fancied yet?” you smirked before taking a glass of whiskey. Alice had, as always, so many people who threw themselves to her feet but she didn’t care.

“ No, which is infuriating , look at me ! Poor little me being single!” she groaned as you laughed before hugging her. You knew Alice would find someone, she deserved it!

You kept celebrating until 3 am before you knew it was time for you to go. You were tired and you knew you would have to take care of your father if needed. He was doing well but he couldn’t stay still so he went to work with the police. What a stubborn man. You kissed Alice on her cheek and smiled when you felt a warm hand on your back.

“ Ready to go, dearest?” Alastor smiled at you, he already had his jacket on his arm. You nodded and said your goodbye before leaving the bar. You were staring at Alastor’s handsome punchable face. He looked down at you with a teasing grin. “ Yes ?”

“ Nothing.. I’m just admiring your face.”

“ Oh, please, do continue.” he chuckled as he walked you to your home. In front of your door you hugged him as he kissed your forehead. You began to turn away from him, ready to catch some sleep but he took your hands.

“ I say I had good news right?”

“ Yes, you are now a radio host.” you smiled before giving him a peck on his lips. “ I’m so proud of you. We’ve been waiting for this, haven't we?”

“ We have, indeedy, dearest. But I have some other news, for both of us.” He took your hand toward his mouth and kissed the back of it, staring into your soul.

“ My father is coming back.”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics

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jedi-hawkins · 1 day

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Callsign: Omega

post-s3 finale head cannons (spoilers, duh)

Omega, she’s become one of the most famous pilots for the rebellion.

She names her x-wing “Havoc 5” for her brothers

Of course it has their ct numbers written across the back, right behind the cockpit, for they’re always watching her six. She can't see them when she's flying, and frankly doesn't look at the worn numbers there every day, but they're there always.

The belly of her x-wing is covered in tally marks. The blue ones are for each clone she’s helped free, an ohmage to a clone her brother Echo told her about, ARC-5555. The black ones are for every other being she's helped free. And the red ones, those are for the lives that have passed on and become one with the Force.

On part of her landing gear is a blue pawprint.

On her helmet she only has five things painted, a knife, a crosshair, a tooka doll, a handprint, and a pair of goggles.

On the shoulder of her flight suit, she adds another CF 99 patch, just like the one on her jacket.

She goes by callsign “Omega” for she is the last. The end. The final thing her enemies will see, the last thing the Empire will feel as it falls. She is the being that brings an end to the suffering that so many clones have faced as wards of the Empire when she shows up to liberate them. Omega.

Bonus: The first time she returns to Pabu, Hunter immediately notices the nose art she's chosen to paint on her shuttle, the one built from the Marauder's salvage. It's a stark replica of the nose art that once adorned the original ship, back in the Clone Wars. His stomach plummets and he can't even find the words. As his daughter strolls down the ramp, she immediately bursts into laughter at the look on his face.

Her brothers, Crosshair and Wrecker stroll into the courtyard, the larger of the two asking loudly, "What's so funny, 'Meg?"

"I think that is what's so funny." The lankier one replies, gesturing to the nose of the shuttle with his left hand. He's forgone his prosthetic today. Some days he wears it, others he chooses to wear his cap with pride.

Wrecker scratches his beard and both his eyes widen, "WAIT- IS THAT?"

"So, it would seem." Crosshair says, placing a toothpick between his lips. "Breathe, Hunter." He says pointedly at his brother, who still looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"I-uhh. It's good to have you home, Omega." He finally stutters out.

He wraps his arms around her tightly as always, but his eyes are still glued to the hull of her shuttle. "Done some decorating, I see?"

"Yeah." She replies simply, giving Wrecker and Crosshair their own due hugs. "You like it?"

"It certainly is... something." Hunter gets out, stumbling over his words yet again.

"I found the image in some old Republic files we recovered, it reminded me of something I saw as a kid, but I don't remember where." She says, coming to stand beside Hunter again.

"Ehhh... Omega." Her father groans, running a hand through his greying hair. "Do you... Do you remember what the Marauder looked like when we first met?"

She turns to him. "No, why do you ask?"

Hunter finally peels his eyes away from the shuttle to face his daughter. "That picture you found... That was... That was the Marauder, that's where you know it from. You only saw it once. We scrubbed it off as soon as we decided to come back to Kamino for you."

"Really? I had no recollection." Omega tries to stop the grin from spreading across her face, but she can't help it, and Hunter, still perceptive as always scoffs at her.

"Why you little..." He growls at her, stifling his own laughter.

"I think she knows..." Crosshair chimes in, running his hand through his silver locks.

Wrecker's jaw drops, "Wait, you know where that's from?"

Omega shakes her head at her brothers. "Of course I know, I never forgot how awkward you all were when I asked about it. It didn't click exactly why until I found that old picture. Thought I'd bring it back for old time's sake, eh Hunter?"

Hunter's eyes widen as words escape him once again.

"Kidding," Omega teases. "I just wanted to see what your reaction would be."

Crosshair steps closer to the shuttle to examine the paint job. "Though this has been wildly entertaining, it might be best for you to scrub it, 'Mega."

Omega crosses her arms. "Why? You did it first little brother."

His eyes narrow at his sister, he's the only one she ever pulls that with and though he secretly loves it, she can't know that. "I mean it." He says sternly, pointing his toothpick at her. "Otherwise, Hunter is going to have an aneurysm every time you come home."

Omega looks to the clone beside her, just barely an inch shorter than her now. She places a hand on his shoulder, "Of course I'll scrub it. Echo thought the idea was hilarious. Plus, it gave me an opening to show you this."

She gently reaches into her bag and brings out a holoframe, turning it so Hunter can see. It looks just like any other quick photo taken in a Republic shipyard. Troopers are milling around in the back, by the looks of the landscape it might've been Ryloth. The focus of the photo, however, is a black Omicron-class attack shuttle and five clone commandos posed in front of it in red and black armor.

Their helmets are off, their faces young and confident, proud of their most recent mission. Though, the sniper has a rifle held in his right hand, and the one crouched in front doesn't have his goggles on. But it's clear who it is, all five of them. And on the nose of the attack shuttle behind them, is the striking portrait of the last senator of Naboo.

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bobateababe · 13 hours

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꧁꧁perv satoru x bimbo reader꧂꧂

perv satoru who purposely buys you thick drinks, like milkshakes with straws so he can see your pretty, glossy lips linger on the straw for some time as you moan in delight because of the flavor.

perv satoru who buys you cute short pink skirts for you to wear so he can shamelessly watch as your ass sway and jiggle when you walk around.

perv satoru who always snatches whatever's in your hands and holds it high above his head so he can watch with amusement as your tits bounce and sway as your jump up to grasp whatever is in his hand.

perv satoru who loves going shopping with your and makes you hold a bunch of stuff so when you drop something he gets a free show of your cute skirt riding up to your ass and your plump pussy which is barley restrained by your tight panties.

perv satoru who loves your perfectly painted toes. He always buys the best sandals for you so he can see them on display.

perv satoru who loves to fondle your tits in the middle of the store at the most random times. He uses the most pathetic excuses your dumb little brain would believe.

"t-toru! m-my tits! hey!"

"relax princess, your boobs were spilling out in that 'lil tight top...i'm just putting them in place yeah? Wouldn't want 'yer sweet tits swaying out for everyone hm?"

perv satoru who knows that your not completely stupid and knows that your purposely wear tight, revealing tops because you love being watched by him.

perv satoru who pulls you onto his lap during a scary movie, whispering in your ear about how he'll always keep you safe, and that those stupid serial killers wouldn't dare touch his perfect princess.

perv satoru who pulls you onto his lap during a scary movie because he loves the way you squirm against his cock during a suspense scene. He knows that you feel his raging boner pressing against your soft ass. He sees the little smirk you have when you rub up against him more and more times throughout the movie.

Perv satoru who jerks off alone in his room after a day out with you. He thinks about your glossy lips and your soft ass swaying and jiggling so innocently. His milky cum spurts out intensely, shooting all over his hands and his chest and he continues to milk his cock by just the mere thought of you.

bimbo reader who knows exactly what she's doing and placed a camera in Satoru's room so she can finger her tight, cute pussy as she watches her needy 'toru milk his sweet cock.

this is by far the most lewd thing I've ever wrote im ngl, but I hope ya'll enjoyed it just as much as my kitty did.

😭

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strawberrystepmom · 2 days

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gojo x f!reader are married. he refers to readers breasts and makes a lewd joke. divider by cafekitsune my most beloved | wc 822

“That one looks like you.”

Squeezing Satoru’s bicep where your hand rests against it, arm looped through his, you giggle and shake your head. The statue in front of you is flesh made marble, a woman with thighs that maybe on a really good day resemble yours so painstakingly crafted that crowds gather to see her. She’s beautiful, a depiction of a goddess from fables you are both vaguely familiar with.

Is this really how he sees you? It makes those same butterflies he always manages to create stir in your belly and you wrinkle your nose, taking a peek up at him but looking away to admire the beauty depicted in front of you.

“You’ve already charmed me, Satoru. You don’t have to tell tall tales.” His gaze shifts from the sculpture to you, something you can feel rather than witness. He scoffs and tilts his head, shifting from standing beside you to in front of you, arms still linked together.

“You always say that when I compliment you. Why?”

Laughing, you reach to pinch his side with your freehand and he dodges just in the nick of time. It’s preventative, he always giggles and causes a scene when you touch the tender ticklish spot right at his hip bone, and a museum in another country on a trip the two of you had to bend your schedules to go on is not the place to have a tickle fight. He traps your hand in his and deposits it at your side with a smug half smile.

“Let’s not get into it right now. I’ll just say thank you for the compliment and we can move on.”

Never one to take being put off gracefully, he crowds against you until there is zero space between your bodies. You worry about the PDA being seen as offensive or too much and glance around the mostly empty on a weekday museum where everyone else is fairly ignorant of your existence. It’s just the two of you, as always and not just in your head this time. Smiling, you let him embrace you and rest his balled hands against the small of your back, your entire body leaning into his side.

“You know, I’d have a house full of sculptures and paintings of you just like that if you’d let me,” he mumbles under his breath to bait you. You laugh aloud, pressing your cheek to his arm. “What, nude?” He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and raises his eyebrows over the tops of his sunglasses. “Obviously. Or clothed or in a gown or in water or tangled in our bed sheets.”

Pausing to take a breath, he’s surprised to see you already looking up at him when he gazes down at you. He wishes he could capture this with more than just his eyes, his phone and heart. He has painted you before and would create a thousand more odes to his beauty if he had more time on his hands and you’d let him. You’re so eager to disbelieve your own beauty, you haven’t sat to be painted by him in years.

Satoru makes a mental note to rectify that as soon as the two of you get home but continues to speak now that he has your undivided attention, smirking, all dimples and mischief and the things you love the most about him, the tenderness in your glance a reflection of how you feel.

“I’m just saying. I’m sure I could find some sculptor to carve my pretty wife and would do those,” he glances down at your chest and you roll your eyes half-heartedly, still wearing the smile he put on your face with his casual comparison of your likeness to that of a goddess. “The artistic justice they deserve.”

Despite the tongue in cheek joking, he can be such a romantic when he wants to be. You kind of feel he’s laying it on a little thick because you’re on vacation but what’s the harm in having fun when it is luxuriously just the two of you, the rarity that it is?

Smiling up at him, you offer a better solution.

“Maybe they can sculpt both of us. We can see if they’ll do that,” you subtly reach down and pat just below his belt buckle before he can swat at your hand or turn on his Infinity to keep you away, pulling your hand away as quickly as you can. “Some justice too.”

Now that’s an idea he appears to like, his smirk sliding into a full smile. You pat his arm and separate yourself from him, only to be met with a whine. You reach behind you and grab his hand, fingers intertwining as naturally as they always do, pulling him along with you.

“Now let me show you which one reminds me of you,” you tease him, smiling over your shoulder.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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vivwritesfics · 2 days

Text

Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter Three

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut

1.5K

Series Masterlist

Would she have stayed in San Diego if it wasn't for the handsome aviator she had spent the night in a few days ago? No. No she would have been on her way, off to the next state.

But here she still was, in San Diego, staying in that shitty motel. She had called on Bradley Bradshaw, more times than she cared to admit. Every day he was working, but then he'd pick her up once he was finished, in his aviator uniform (you know, those hot overalls), and take her... wherever, showing her around North Island.

On her third night of overstaying her welcome in San Diego, she returned to The Hard Deck. Bradley had said he was going to be there and that she should join him, and who was she to say no to that?

She pulled up in the McLaren, parking herself beside the Bronco. Bradley's Bronco. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she climbed out of the McLaren.

She didn't know about the group of aviators inside, updating Bradley about the super cool car they'd seen a few days ago. The car that Bradley definitely hadn't seen because he was 'too busy making eyes at that girl'.

Bradley said nothing. He didn't tell them that he knew who the McLaren belonged to. He didn't tell them that she'd be on her way now.

He lifted his beer to the lips, looking towards the door as she walked in. And, when Bradley looked, the rest of his old squad did to. Simply because he wasn't listening, and Mickey and Reuben wanted to know what on earth could have been more interesting than the fucking cool McLaren they'd seen a few days ago.

But then they saw it, outside of The Hard Deck. That fucking cool McLaren they'd seen a few days ago. "No way," Mickey couldn't stop himself from saying as Bradley ordered her a drink (gin and tonic, he'd learnt that by now).

"Hey," he said, passing her the drink as she tucked herself into his side. It looked far too domestic for two people that hardly knew each other.

"Hey," she replied, mirroring him as she looked up at him. She pulled his aviators from his face and tucked them into his shirt pocket.

And just as Bradley opened his pretty mouth, just as he was about to say something, he was interrupted. "Rooster!" Mickey shouted. "That McLaren is back! The person that owns it has got to be in here."

Bradley simply looked from Mickey to her. "Do you wanna tell him?" He asked, gently squeezing her shoulder

"Fine," she said and rolled her eyes, but it wasn't malicious. She shoved her gin and tonic into Bradley's hand and held her hand out towards Mickey. "Yeah, it's my Mclaren. Or, I'm borrowing it from a friend."

"Dude, who the hell are you friends with?"

She wore a sort of mischievous smile as she shrugged her shoulders.

But she didn't get a chance to say much more. Not before another, much older man approached. His smile was so white it was almost blinding as he greeted the woman behind the bar fondly, and then greeted the squad.

His eyes locked onto her. "Holy shit," he couldn't stop himself from saying as he pulled down his sun glasses. And then he said her name, the pronunciation of Verstappen perfect.

Her heart dropped as everyone, including Bradley, looked at her. But she let that painted, PR smile cross her lips. "Big Formula One fan?" She asked as she took her drink from Bradley's hands.

"Incredibly big," he said as a drink was passed to him. "I was in Vegas last year, saw your drive, it was incredibly impressive."

She paused, straw between her lips. The grumble she released wasn't supposed to be audible, but she couldn’t exactly control that. "Yeah, Vegas was a shit show," she mumbled. "Celebrated the end of it like the sun would never rise, though."

She didn't say the things she wanted to about Vegas, that it was the best drive her team had seen all year, but it still wasn't enough to keep her seat. There was anger that burned in her chest, but she pushed it away as she finished her drink.

Suddenly there was a crowd of aviators around her, asking her question after question. She tried to answer as best as she could, but the questions just kept coming. It was too much, all too much, and she couldn't get away. Back pressed against the bar, she answered as many questions as she could.

But she couldn't stop herself from looking around in panic for Bradley. He'd been next to her just moments ago, where the hell had he gone?

When she stumbled over an answer, she was ready to throw up. But then the bell from the bar rang. All of the aviators stopped and looked towards the bar owner. "Who's tab?" One of the younger ones had asked.

The bar owner shook her head. "No tab, just leave the poor girl alone," she said.

The aviators backed off, returning to the pool table and the darts board. She sat up at the bar, ready to order herself a drink (since Bradley had apparently ordered her a new one and taken off with it).

But, as she sat, the older aviator, the one who had recognised her, sat on the bar stood beside her. "Sorry about that," he said as he finished his drink. "I can't help but think I started that."

She shrugged her shoulders as the bar owner placed the gin and tonic in front of her. "Just surprised that somebody out here recognised me. I thought most of the states was into Nascar," she muttered.

Maverick laughed, his way of trying to ease the tension. But she didn’t laugh back. So, he took the next logical step and shifted the focus of the conversation away from her. "How d'you know Bradley?"

Her shoulders raised and fell in a shrug. "Oh, you know. From around, sleeping together, all that shit," she mumbled and finished her second gin and tonic, piano music starting up from somewhere in the bar.

As soon as her glass was back down on the bar top, she slipped out of her seat. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for Bradley and, more importantly, her missing gin and tonic.

She found Bradley at the piano, pressing his fingers to the keys. His fingers were big, she knew from experience, but they played such delicate music. She sat on the bench next to him and took a drunken minute (which, in reality, was a minute and a half) to listen.

"I thought you said you were a car mechanic," said Bradley, over the delicate sounds of Billy Joel (yes, he was particularly fond of Jerry Lee Lewis, especially after all of the stories his mother had told him about his father, but he saved that for when the bar was packed, when there were oh so many people gathered around the piano, singing along with him. While the bar was quiet, Bradley played other songs he had learnt through his childhood.)

She let out a breath. "Would you have treated me differently if I was honest?" She asked and laid her head against his shoulder.

Bradley couldn't answer that. He didn't know if he would have treated her any differently if he knew who she was. A rather large part of him knew that he wouldn't, that he'd be the same gentleman that he had been since the moment he met her, but the was that small bit of doubt in the back of his mind.

The music dimmed with less notes to fill it as he reached up for her gin and tonic. He passed it to her and placed it in her hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sing along with me," he said and went back to playing.

That she was happy to do. She couldn't couldn't play the piano, she couldn't sing, but she was still having the time of her life.

And, as she got into it, the door of The Hard Deck opened. Bradley didn't turn around the greet the person, so she didn't greet them either. She was having too much fun, shouting the lyrics to the song at Bradley as he did the same to her.

It took all of her willpower to keep singing, to not stop him to kiss him.

"Have you guys seen that sweet McLaren outside?" Asked the person who walked over to the piano, interrupting the singing. She rolled her eyes when he let out a whistle.

But, after all of their prodding, the rest of the dagger squad thought the McLaren was old news, too. Why wouldn't they when they had a Formula One Driver singing with their Rooster. "Shut up, Bagman," One of them called, and the singing resumed.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool

@not-nyasa

@nurse-sainz

@boiohboii

@thehufflepuffavenger1

@sweate-r-weathe-r

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dixons-sunshine · 3 days

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Hey!! I really REALLY love your girl dad Daryl series and I thought maybe I could request something :) Imagine Daryl building a doll house or something (maybe a cute little mini motorcycle) for his daughter I can totally see him doing something like that it’s all I can think about when I see this picture. He would totally get the materials from one of his supply runs because I headcanon that everytime he brings something for his daughter (like a doll or something)

His Motorcycle Princess | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When his daughter was born, Daryl swore to himself that he'd do everything in his power to ensure that she remained happy at all costs. So when she asked for her very own motorcycle, who was he to deny her that?

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (the bridge exploding doesn't happen, so Daryl never goes looking for Rick and he's happily living in Alexandria).

Warnings: Swearing, slight suggestive talk.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: Okay but why can't Daryl be the father of my future kids? He'd be the best dad ever. All jokes aside, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, may I ask what the fuck that is?” you asked in surprise at at the sight before you, folding your arms over your chest.

Daryl looked up from his workbench, his ocean coloured eyes meeting your eyes before glancing back down at the big pink object in front of him. “S'a toy bike,” he stated plainly, patting the toy for added effect.

“Okay,” you drawled, nodding your head slowly. “But... Why?”

“S'fer Hazel,” he explained, picking up a screwdriver and resuming his task of assembling the toy motorcycle. “She asked fer a bike like mine, but obviously I ain't 'bout to assemble a real one fer a five year old, so I got this instead.”

You walked down the steps into the garage and walked over to your husband, standing slightly behind him as you watched him tighten the screws of the toy. “Where'd you even get this?”

“I was lucky 'nough to find a toy store tha' was left relatively untouched. Found this hidin' behind one of the shelves,” he explained, glancing over to you and nervously gulping at the close proximity. It amazed him that even after so many years together, you still managed to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“Aah, okay,” you nodded, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hazel is gonna freak out over this. This is gonna be her new favourite thing in the world.”

“Ya really think so?” Daryl asked, looking at you hopefully.

You smiled softly at him. There was lot of things people could say about the archer. People who didn't know him personally would call him rude, obnoxious and cold. Those who knew better would call him loyal, determined and caring. When it came to you, there was a lot you could say about your beautiful husband. He was kind, caring, loving, considerate, observant, and so much more. And you could also proudly say that Daryl was an amazing dad. Nobody was perfect and the archer had his moments that he wasn't proud of, but all in all, there was no denying that Daryl would do anything for your daughter.

“I know she'll love it,” you reassured him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You could bring her a painted rock and she'd love it. As long as it's from you, she doesn't care.”

“Nah, she hated tha' bunny I brought back fer her,” he replied, closing his eyes at the warm, soft feeling of you pressed against his back.

“It's only because it was covered in walker blood,” you explained. “After I washed it, she wouldn't let the thing go.”

Daryl couldn't deny that. The aforementioned toy had been a proud edition to Hazel's stuffed animal collection for two years at that point. She loved that bunny more than anything, favouring it to join her when she played tea parties with you and Daryl. It made the archer's heart swell with love, just knowing that his daughter appreciated what he did for her made everything worth it. All the battles he fought, all the blood that was shed, it was all worth it in the end. His wife and his daughter were safe, and he'd never been happier in his life than he was in those moments in the small home you shared in Alexandria.

With you still firmly pressed against his back, he got back to work. The toy was almost done; he only had a few finishing touches he had to do. Admittedly, it was a little harder to do so with you pressed against him from behind, but he refused to ask you to move. He'd much rather work on the toy for a few extra minutes than lose the comfort your mere touch brought him.

You watched his hands intently, your mind unwillingly wandering to a place that wasn't needed at that moment. However, you couldn't help it, the knowledge of what those hardworking hands could do in other activities taking over your senses.

“You know, this gives me deja vu,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah? How so?” Daryl asked, tightening the last screw into the toy.

“Remember back when you were building your own bike five years ago?” you asked, continuing when he nodded. “Seeing you hard at work, doing something you were skilled at really did something to me. It was because you were building your bike that we even have a kid at all now. And now you're building a motorcycle for our kid.”

Daryl chuckled at the memory. “Never knew grease could turn ya on like tha' until then.”

“When it's on my handsome husband's hands? You best believe it does.”

Daryl turned around and wrapped his arms around you, staring down at you lovingly. “And now we have our own kid.”

“Our own little family,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.”

“Mama! Daddy!”

Before Daryl could lean down and capture your lips in his for a kiss, your daughter bounded down the steps. The two of you sent each other an amused look, reluctantly pulling apart. Hazel came over to Daryl and held her hands up in a silent plea to be picked up, and the archer complied.

“Hey there, Hazelnut,” Daryl greeted her with a fond smile, placing a light kiss to the top of her head.

“Hi, Daddy,” she giggled, sending a wave at you. “Hi, Mama!”

“Hi, Baby,” you chuckled, walking over to rub her hair affectionately. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah! I'm ready to play now!” she exclaimed happily, a toothy smile on display.

“Well, how 'bout ya and I race our bikes?” Daryl questioned, capturing Hazel's attention.

“But Daddy, only you have a bike.”

“Not anymore,” you said in a playful tone, sharing an excited glance with the archer. “Daddy got you something.”

Daryl turned around with her in his arms and showed her the bright pink toy motorcycle. Hazel let out a surprised gasp before laughing in excitement, throwing her arms around Daryl's neck and hugging him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed in excitement.

Daryl chuckled fondly and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Yer welcome, Hazelnut.”

“Now I can be like you!” she giggled, wiggling slightly to be put down. When she was, she ran over to the workbench and stared in awe at the toy.

“Yeah,” you agreed, walking over to her to ensure she didn't accidentally hurt herself with the tools that were still on the workbench. “You just need your own crossbow now.”

Hazel gasped in delight and turned to Daryl. “Daddy, can I get a crossbow?”

“'Course ya can. How else would ya help me on my hunts?”

“Yay!” Hazel happily clapped her hands. “Mama, I'm getting a crossbow!”

Daryl smiled and walked over to the two of you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and playfully ruffling Hazel's hair. He chuckled at the giggle she let out, feeling content and comfortable as he listened to Hazel's babbling as she regarded over all the places she would go with her very own motorcycle, even to the moon. There was nothing better in his life than moments like these. This was what he fought for. And he would do it all over again if it meant keeping the two most important people in his life safe.

Because without you, his beautiful wife, and Hazel, your perfect daughter, his life would never be the same.

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idyllic-ghost · 3 days

Text

title: Delicate pairing: idol!hoshi x non idol!reader genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers warnings: just two little goofs finally realizing they like each other, it takes them some time, not proofed synopsis: You've been friends since he could remember, and since that summer night last year it's been different - you can both feel it. So why is it so hard to just say it? wordcount: 2.3k taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz,

rating: PG 13

a/n: inspired by Delicate by Taylor Swift because i currently have it on repeat

join my taglist

masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The rain is falling heavy as Soonyoung all but sprints up to the door of your apartment complex. A pair of dark sunglasses pushed up on his nose cover what his hoodie and cap can't, despite the fact that it's dark outside. It's late, but he knows that you're still up because he can see the light coming out of the window of your third-floor apartment.

Soon enough, he's shielded from the rain by the small roof that covers the entrance to your apartment. With shaky hands, he pushes the digits into the keypad; four-one-six-five has become his favorite number combination. A smile plays on his lips as the lock clicks open and lets him push the door open.

Your apartment doesn't have an elevator - and if that isn't enough of a giveaway that it's old, the smell in the stairway makes it even more clear - but Soonyoung doesn't even think about complaining as he jogs up the stairs to the third floor. He's just thinking about you, what you would look like when he finally got up the stairs, what you would say to him, and, more importantly, what he would say to you.

He takes a moment to catch his breath once he gets to the door to your apartment - silently thanking Jihoon for taking him to the gym so much, and the choreographer for working them to the bone until they knew each step perfectly. After he fixes his clothes - pulling at his jeans, fixing his jacket, and taking off his sunglasses - Soonyoung finally knocks on your door.

It takes a few seconds, and he can hear you shuffling around on the other side of the door. You slide open the cover to the peep hole, he can hear the little squeak it always makes, and he waves right at the hole. A soft laugh echoes from the other side of the door, pulling at Soonyoung's heartstrings. The latch comes out of it's place, the lock turns, and then you're there in front of him. You're a vision in one of his "stolen" t-shirts and the heart-print sleep shorts he gave you - a big grin is painted on your face, which is glowing from the skincare you had probably just gotten done with.

"Soonyoungie!" You throw your arms out to him, and he engulfs you in a big hug.

You don't care that he's wet from the rain, or that his "outside clothes" are touching your "inside clothes" right now - as you usually would. You can't think of the last time you had seen him, mostly because you don't want to think about the months you have spent without him. Soonyoung spins you around in the air as he gets inside your apartment, knocking over something on the table you keep in your hallway. But you couldn't care less about your things getting knocked over, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek before he sets you down.

"When did you get back?" you ask, your hands still on his shoulders and unable to fully let him go.

"An hour ago," he says.

"I just needed to see you," he wants to add, but stops himself. It isn't the right time. You invite him to take off his jacket and come inside. While he gets rid of his wet clothes, you pick out a few things of his that he had left from last time he was here. You don't have to tell him that you knew it would be good to leave a few things at your place, he already knows.

Once Soonyoung has changed, he goes into your bedroom where you're lying with your laptop in front of you. When you see him, a giddy smile appears on your smile and you immediately get up to prepare a spot next to you. He would never get tired of seeing your face light up as he walks into the room - for a moment, he can pretend like you're his.

As soon as you move the covers to reveal your comfortable mattress, Soonyoung practically jumps in next to you. You groan and complain - grumbling something about how he spends an awful amount of energy arguing that he's a tiger, when he acts like a kangaroo - but Soonyoung doesn't listen. Your computer almost gets knocked over as he snuggles closer to you.

"Hey, watch it!" You push your computer further into the bed with your foot.

Soonyoung doesn't heed your threatening warning, he doesn't even hear it. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, pressed up against your warm skin, and his arms are wrapped around your torso. Yes, this is home. He notes that you're still using the same scented lotion, but that your laundry detergent may be different. Maybe it's creepy to remember those things - but Soonyoung is clinging to each and every detail of you as if his life depended on it. Once your nagging stops, he finally gets to feel you hug him back. Your arms wrap around him, one of your hands coming up to cradle the back of his head, and Soonyoung finally feels complete.

He can't tell you this, but he's madly in love with you. Everyone else seems to realize but not you - or maybe you're just pretending to not to know. However, Soonyoung can't lie to himself no matter how much he tries. He's been in love with you since last summer - or at least that's when he realized his feelings. His friends told him that they could tell he's liked you for longer, but Soonyoung can't confirm that theory.

Either way, you can't know... is what he used to think. After that time last summer, where he had kissed you in a drunken game of truth or dare, he decided to keep his feels secret. It was only when he wasn't able to see you for months on end that he realized he can't keep it up. He missed your touch, your scent, your voice, your everything. Too many nights were spent complaining about not being able to see you, to the point where Jeonghan had almost called you to tell him of Soonyoung's feelings himself.

Now he's with you again, determined to confess... at some point. This situation was just too delicate.

"Do you want to watch a show with me?" you ask. "I already started it, but I'll catch you up on the details."

"Sure." Soonyoung didn't care what you two did together, as long as he got to be with you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You're sitting on your bed with your computer on your lap. The episode is at it's end, and you're planning on going to sleep right after it did - unless it ends on a cliffhanger, of course.

When the doorbell rings, you all but jump out of bed. It's late, and you aren't expecting anyone. You know better than to open the door to a stranger, let alone pay any attention to a late night door bell without anyone telling you they're coming over first. However, the annoyingly curious part of you forces you to make your way to the front door. You quickly slide away the cover to the peephole and lean in to look through it.

To your surprise, it's not a scary stranger standing on the other side of your door. It's your Soonyoung. A giddy feeling spreads through your chest as you watch him wave at you through the peephole. With hands shaking from excitement, you fumble with the latch before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

"Soonyoungie!" You hold your arms out to him, and you're quickly swept up in a big, wet hug.

Right, it's raining outside. He lifts you up off the ground and gets both of you inside the apartment. You hear him knock something over, but don't even look to where the noise came from. He was finally home - as of an hour, he tells you. He came to see you immediately, you can't help but think. You try not to think about the fact that you're wearing his shirt and the heart-print pajama shorts he gifted you for a joke. If you didn't think about them, maybe he wouldn't notice. The proud look in his eyes says otherwise.

You end up getting him new clothes before going back to your place on your bed. At this point, your heart is in your throat - pounding so hard that you're scared it's going to come jumping out if you speak. It was your friend's fault - the ones who dared Soonyoung to kiss you. If they had kept to themselves, if they hadn't mocked you by basically showing you what you would never have, then maybe it wouldn't have gotten so difficult to talk to him.

It only got worse when Soonyoung came back. You moved around, making space for him to lay next to you, and he came running to your side. You let out a groan as Soonyoung crashes into you, his body molding so perfectly against yours.

"You know, you talk a lot about being a tiger but you seriously act like a kangaroo." Your comment falls on deaf ears, and it's partially because your voice is so quiet seeing as Soonyoung is suffocating you with his weight.

At Soonyoung's dramatic movements, your laptop almost falls off the edge of the bed. You yelp and reach for it with your foot, seeing as the rest of your body was stuck thanks to the man beside you. His face was in the crook of your neck, and you could feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin. You don't press him harder against you, despite desperately wanting to. Instead, you shuffle around until you're somewhat free and pick up your laptop.

"Do you want to watch a show with me?" you ask. "I already started it, but I'll catch you up on the details."

"Sure," Soonyoung mumbled.

You're not sure if he actually heard you, but you put on the show anyway. Whenever the characters bring something up from a past episode, you mutter an explanation to Soonyoung - who only hums in response. His arms stay wrapped around your middle, although you wish that they wouldn't. Having him hold you like this almost makes you believe that he liked you back. He has been different ever since that summer evening, but you always brush it off as him feeling weird about kissing a close friend.

"Who's that?" Soonyoung pauses the episode to point at a character.

"Oh! That's my favorite character!" You tell him the character's name and the backstory that has been revealed so far.

Soonyoung's eyes stay on the screen, practically glued to the character. At first you think nothing of it but as you keep talking about him, Soonyoung holds you a little tighter. The actor is very attractive, no one can deny that, and so you may or may not start gushing about it.

"Hey," Soonyoung interrupts your rambling and finally looks up at you. "Why don't you talk about me like that?"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The words pour out of Soonyoung's mouth before he could process them, and he instantly regrets them. "Why don't you talk about me like that?" Who says that? But Soonyoung can't hide now. He can't look away from you when he's said something like that. He keeps his eyes on you, despite wanting nothing more than to look back at the stupid character on the stupid screen.

"What?" Your voice is laced with a suspectfull humor - as if you aren't sure if he's being sarcastic or not.

"I just..." He finally looks away. "It's nothing..."

"Tell me," you whine as you shake his shoulders. "You can't say that and then not explain yourself!"

A part of him wonders if you want him to say it so badly because you already know. Because you're in love with him too. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but Soonyoung is willing to take his chances.

"The way you keep complimenting this random guy..." He motions to the screen with a nonchalant flick of his hand. "It's like you don't even see that I'm laying right next to you."

"You want me to compliment you?"

"I want you to see me."

Soonyoung meets your gaze again. The playful smile on your lips falters as you see the serious look on his face. He's close to you, your lips are right there, and he can feel your breath fan his skin. When you don't respond, Soonyoung grows anxious. He looks back to the screen, ready to make a joke to relieve the tension, when you take his jaw in your hand and force him to face you again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your lips smash against his in a messy and passionate kiss, so unlike the shy and timid kiss he had given you that summer evening. This was coming from the cave in your chest, where your heart had been spinning threads of want and need for the past few months since then. You're not just his friend anymore, not after this. You couldn't bring yourself to. The pounding of your pulse was drowning out all noise - so when he pulled away and mumbled something to you, you couldn't hear a word. Your half-lidded eyes lingered on his lips, you could see them move but not a word processed in your brain. That was, until he smiled and his laugh made it through the mental barrier you had put up.

"Answer me."

"What?"

"What was that for?" he asked, probably for the umpteenth time.

"I just wanted to kiss you again," you admit without thinking.

"Good." He all but beams as his eyes glances at your lips, and shyly asks you, "Could you do it one more time?"

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applejuicebegood · 2 days

Note

I'm sorry if your ask box isn't open I was wondering if you wouldn't mind like an angst with jason todd where the reader is like the complete opposite of like his ex's like she's chubby and isn't this Amazonian woman but so she feels like he is with her out of pity and a huge miscommunication is going on because she doesn't want to bother jason with these self conscious problems she is facing

A/N: This shall be my first attempt at Jason angst so I really hope it's decent!! It will be fluffy towards the end tho dw. Thank you sm for the request dude!! CW: Body-image insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety Masterlist

You always had a complicated relationship with your body. Never fitting into the right molds of beauty provided to you.

Only to grow older and realise that this would be the only body you had in this life - you should love all the parts that came with it. Parts that you would see mirrored in sculptures of gods and paintings of royalty. Why shouldn't you be proud of the fact that it was bodies like yours that were the templates for worship?

And then you saw your boyfriends ex. It was during one of your book-shop dates, he pointed her out before quickly walking to the next aisle thinking that you would be right behind him. Hating that his comfortable bubble with you had been suddenly popped by the presence of a dead love.

But you were stuck, your feet nailed to the floor, gazing at this pillar of a woman. And suddenly the blaring buzz of weight-loss adds and the 'concerns regarding your health' filled up your head. Making you hang your head to glare at your shoes. Jason appeared, looking concerned that you didn't fallow. He came and touched his hand to your back. 'You ok ma'?'

You nodded and tucked your hand back into his, with a cold pit of doubt forming in your stomach.

The next few weeks was a confusing fix of dread and doubt, for the both of you. You became distant, preparing yourself for the eventual confession from Jason that he only got with you because he felt bad. Brushing off his sweet touches and offers for you to spend the night. Resulting in Jason trying to chase after you in fear that his blunt arrogance was driving you away. He was confused, and when he got confused - he got angry. Something he felt an infinite amount of shame regarding because what if his capacity to be stuck in this loop of anger was the thing pushing you away.

You, the one stable thing he found that was able to drowned all of it out. You, he couldn't loose, not because of him.

'Baby.. we- we need to talk' He said, standing from the couch as you tried to escape to the door. You had prepared yourself for these words. Preparing yourself for the stinging pain of loneliness that would fallow as he tells you that you guys should break up. 'Here.. let's just sit' He say's motioning to the couch. At least you would be near him just a bit longer. 'Listen... I know I'm a dick- and that I can be really difficult but.. but baby if I did or said something that's making you so distant.. you need to tell me'. He pleaded, taking your hand into his. This was not in the script you had conjured up in your head. He was supposed to tell you to pack up your stuff and leave. That he had gotten back together with Artemis, someone actually deserving of his praise and unconditional love. Someone who was actually pretty. 'What.. Jace- no.. you.. Wait what are you talking about?' 'I mean- you've been so distant and just off for like weeks now, and if it was something I did.. baby I'm so sorry' 'Your not..? never-mind..' You say, tucking your hands under your thighs. 'So.. did I do someth-' 'No! Gods Jason, no! You didn't do anything I just.. I mean I figured you.. I mean I.. UGh!' You stuttered, simmering in your own frustration. 'Its so stupid..' You mumble, the warmth of Jason's big palm rubbing over your tense back became the rope keeping you from the harsh pit of disappear you were about to be cast into. 'Baby, It is not stupid if it's got you like this. Please, just talk to me..' 'I.. like- I mean Jace, I'm not the prettiest of girls. I'm not skinny.. and I just.. I mean maybe you should be with some-' 'Don't even finish that' He said sternly, grabbing onto both of your shoulders. Making your glossy eyes meet his intense glare. He sighed, taking a moment to place his words in the right order in his head. 'If you think, for even a moment, I would ever fall out of love for you because of how you look- I'm going to throw you off of the balcony' 'Please don't' You giggled, the swell of tears building in the corners of your eyes. 'Is that was this is? You thinking you weren't good enough for me because of your body?' You nod, swiping the tears escaping down your cheeks with the back of your hand. Jason scoffed, seemingly in his own disbelief. He suddenly shifted from the couch to kneeling in front of you, taking both of your hands into his. 'So, not to sound like too much of a pig.. but baby, your body is one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. Your glorious.. every inch of you is perfect' He said. Your fingers reached our to cup his chin and jaw, those rich green eye's looking up at you so lovingly. 'No.. Jace I-' 'Yes. Yes you are. And if I ever start to say or think differently, you better fucking shoot me'. He chuckled, softly rubbing the sides of your thighs. 'But-' 'No'. 'I just-' 'Stop talking' He mumbled kissing your palm as your hand curled around his cheek. You felt whiplashed. This was so far from the expected outcome of this conversation. Weeks of starving yourself of his touch for a false premonition, all for it to end so suddenly. It was this quiet revilement of your doubts. As you looked back into Jasons sorrowful eyes, it was like a fire catching to greater heights as you remembered just why you fell for him. He stood suddenly and bent down to sweep you up from the couch and into his thick arms. Your hands immediately wrapping around his neck as he pressed soft kisses around your cheeks and nose. "Wa- Jay! What are you-?' 'I think.. you are in need of some lovin' tonight Miss L/N. To make up for all this distance.. you owe me that' He said, making his way to his bedroom as his lips traveled down the curve of your neck.

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mimixmunson · 12 hours

Note

Can you do a smut where Eddie slaps reader's butt as a joke or something but she moans when he does it?

A playful tap. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb.

“What on earth was that?” Eddie smirks, his hand recoiling from your ass. He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. You scrunch up your face, the sting of his ringed fingers still warm against your butt cheeks. Cursing yourself for wearing those tight little shorts from last summer, the ones that always rode up and ended up looking just like underwear. They did not help with spanking protection.

“S-stop. I, I didn’t say anything.” You stuttered, nervously choking on your words, you never were a good liar. But Eddie was adamant, his ears couldn’t fool him. He knew one of your moans when he heard it. The sweetest sound he’s ever heard, he once confessed that he would write a song about your soft groans and giggles.

“Sure seems like you did, princess. I mean why else is that pretty face painted all red?” He mocks, running his fingers over the pink stained skin of your ass. You wince, it’s still tender to the touch. You were sure Eddie didn’t mean to hit you that hard, but he did, and it felt good. Good enough that your lips betrayed you and let out the most pornographic moans that your vocal cords could muster up.

“I- I was just surprised, that’s all.” You grumbled and grabbed at your stupidly short short. Pulled them down to cover your cheeks as they should. Pulling your hair behind you as you turned to face him. You offered him a weak, unconvincing smile. But Eddie saw right through it.

“Oh of course. How ever could I have been so silly? Just shocked, aren’t you? Well. I’m not gonna push for more information, you’ll tell me if and when you’re ready, I know that. But if you do want more, my lap is always open for you to lay over.” Eddie assured you, but it just made you blush harder. Stuck in shyness, you couldn’t speak. Your mouth just parted open, breathing in and out of it.

“Close your mouth darlin’ you’ll catch flies.” He chuckles, lifting his hand up to raise your bottom lip to your top and you just let him, as if you were putty for him to manipulate any which way he wanted.

“I, I can’t explain.” You admitted. Not knowing what to say, all of your thoughts were replaced with the image of Eddie. His rings slamming against your butt cheeks, causing the warm sting that felt so good. A sting you didn’t realise you’d been dreaming of forever. Your lust for his hands just grew and grew with every passing second.

A sudden wave of confidence or need washed over you, feeling as if you were floating. All of the background noise simply disappeared and all you could sense was Eddie’s smile. That cheeky grin that just beamed with slightly cocky teasing. You leant forward, positioning yourself over his lap, kissing his nose as you passed it and giggling whilst you bent over his knee.

“Knew you couldn’t resist angel. Now count with me. 5.” He smirks harder than before and before you could usher a word out, his hand spanks against your flushed ass once more. Bathing in the familiar pain and you let out another groan. You both sensed it, is going to become a regular occurrence.🦋

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feltit-writeit · 2 days

Text

The Prodigy Son

Art Donaldson x Fem!reader

Something about all the stress Art had been under all of his early teenage years and right now made him vulnerable. He had always been, the only difference is that he had you now.

Warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, sad! Art, panic attack, talk of death

Nothing ever made you more worried than the text you had just received from your boyfriend.

Paint :) -> I need you. I'm in the lockers, please hurry...

You took your school bag off the floor quickly and hurried to meet him. Art had never texted you like this. Without a nickname or even a silly exclamation point that showed you he was always happy. Not in this one though. There was an absence of both. When you reached the men's locker room, it was silent. You dared a glance in and saw that the place was void of any other men. "Art? Baby?" You called out to locale your boyfriend.

Sobs. There was only sobs to be heard.

You walked to the sound and saw your boyfriend on a bench in his underwear. His head was held up by his arms propped up on his knees. His entire body shook and his breathing was uneven; dangerously so. You got closer to him and made your presence known by getting on your knees in front of his eyes. "Baby. Breath. Come on, breath for me." He then looked at you for the first time. But his breathing hadn't changed. He was sobbing like it was never going to end. In all honesty, you were started to get scared. "Art, please follow my breathing pattern." You took a deep breath in, telling him to do the same, and followed by breathing out. You repeated the process six times until his breathing had evened out. That is when he said his first words to you: "Can you hold me. Please, Y/n/n?" You didn't hesistate to take him in your arms and wait for him to come back to reality totaly.

It took about ten minutes for your boyfriend to calm down completely and stop sobbing. Your soothing movements on his back had stopped and you pulled away to see his face better. His soft features were marked by tear streaks and you frowned at that. What had made him so upset? It wasn't his first panic attack. You knew that because he had shared that with you during one of your late night talks. But you had never been there during one. He had not had one since you two got together seven months ago.

You helped him get dressed by handing him his Stanford shorts and polo shirt. He kissed your lips quickly a few times and let a few more tears out. Art was a mess and you didn't know why... "Art?" You asked while he was pulling back from a kiss after having put the final item of clothing on his body. "Yeah?" You took his hand and made him sit with you on the bench. "I think we should talk about this. Right? I'm sorry if it's too forward, but it's worrying me and-" he cut you by putting his hand on yours that was on the bench between your two bodies. "I want to talk about it. If you want to ear it, of course?" You nodded silently and held his hand while he started explaining.

"I love tennis. I really, really do. But sometimes I'm wondering if I have what it takes." He admitted while looking down at his lap. You rubbed his thumb reassuringly. "Of course you do, baby. I'm no expert, but Tashi told me so. Your coach seems to think so too... What happened that made you think that?" You tried to meet his gaze but he just went deeper into his head. "Hey. Stay with me..." You took the side of his face in your palm and lightly brushed it with your thumb. "My father called..." He said and tears came again. "What did he say?" You wanted to know what had put him in this state. "My grandma's dead, baby. She died last night of a stroke." He burst out in tears againa nd you went forward and held him.

You knew how close Art had been to his grandma. She was her biggest supporter, she had always been. "I shouldn't have waited to go pro. She never got to see me pro, Y/n/n." He blurted out through sobs. You held him closer than ever and sighed. "I know baby, but she'll see you from up there." You whispered. "I think and know she was proud of you right now, Art. No matter where you go after this, she would've been your biggest fan. That I am sure of. Don't put pressure on yourself over her. From the little I do know of your beautiful grandma, I know she would be sad about it." He pulled back a little and looked at you intently. "You think?" He asks more unsure than you had ever heard him. You nod your head and wiped his tears away. "When's the funeral?" "In two days." He answered and a comfortable silence fell over you two while you held for the third time in the pas hour.

A little while after, Art got up after kissing you and took his bags with him. He led you two to the exit of the lockers and you walked him to his dorm. "Y/n?" You turned your face to look at him while holding his hand. "Would you come with me? To the funeral, I mean." He waited for an answer and you smiled at him softly. "Of course, whatever you want, Art." He lifted your entertwined hands and kissed your knuckles. "Thank you for being there for me. I love you." You smiled even brighter. "I'll be here for you no matter what, baby. I love you more." You said to him as you guys continued your way to his dorm. You had spent the night at his place and you watched his comfort film while cuddling up and organizing your trip to his hometown.

At the funeral, everybody was happy that Art had found a girl as loving and supporting as you. When he walked to the open casket, you held his hand and comforted him to his needs. No one had ever done such a beautiful and meaningful thing for him. For him, you were it. You were the person he wanted to be fierce and also vulnerable with.

It was not even a full year later that he asked for your hand.

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