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jellofish-plant · 3 months ago

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Table for One (Big Dysfunctional Family)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Genre: Fluff, Humor, Found Family vibes Warnings: Mild language, a lot of sibling banter, overprotective Bat-Dad Bruce

[Masterlist]

You were beginning to think you had walked into an ambush.

Jason had kept it suspiciously casual when he mentioned dinner at the Manor “Just a small thing, babe. Chill night, nothing fancy. I’ll drive.” You should’ve known something was up the second he actually wore a button-down that didn’t have a grease stain on it.

Now, sitting at an absurdly long dining table that could host a royal banquet, you were surrounded by all the Bat-kids. And Bruce.

Jason sat beside you, leg bouncing under the table in barely concealed anxiety. His arm brushed yours, grounding you both as you smiled nervously at the Wayne clan.

“So,” Tim said from across the table, peering at you over his glass of water. “How’d you two meet?”

Before you could answer, Jason cut in. “Not through crime, thanks for asking.”

“That wasn’t the question,” Damian muttered, stabbing a green bean like it had personally offended him. “But now I’m suspicious.”

“I was ordering a coffee,” you said, chuckling. “He was behind me in line and looked like he hadn’t slept in three days.”

“I hadn’t,” Jason said, leaning back smugly. “But I still got your number.”

“Pity,” you teased.

Dick grinned from the other end of the table. “Okay, but like real talk, how are you still with him after hearing him snore?”

Jason groaned. “I do not snore.”

You patted his thigh under the table. “He really does. It’s kind of adorable, though.”

“Betrayal,” he muttered, deadpan.

Bruce finally cleared his throat, his first real contribution to the conversation. “You seem… grounded.”

You blinked. “Thank you…?”

Jason raised a brow. “Wow, high praise, B.”

“I like grounded,” Bruce added gruffly, then focused back on his plate like he hadn’t just given you the Bat-version of a glowing review.

“You’ve passed the Dad Test,” Dick whispered dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear. “It’s beautiful.”

Alfred came in then with a tray of dessert and offered you the first slice. Jason leaned over, whispering, “They’re being weirdly nice. I think they like you.”

“They like me more than you, for sure,” you whispered back.

Jason snorted. “Yeah. No one’s surprised.”

As the night wound down, the conversation buzzed around you jokes, bickering, sarcastic jabs, and a warm undercurrent of love beneath the chaos. Jason looked at home here, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

Later, when you were slipping on your jacket in the entryway, Dick nudged your shoulder and whispered, “Hey. Thanks for being good to him.”

Your heart softened. “Thanks for letting me in.”

Jason appeared behind you, grabbing his keys, and held the door open. “Ready to escape this circus?”

You smiled at him. “We definitely have to come back.”

He blinked. “You want to?”

You nodded. “It’s messy. But it’s your messy.”

He kissed your temple, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “You’re crazier than I am.”

You grinned. “Yeah. That’s probably why we work.”

Tag list:

@dreamzaremyrealityy

@not-herexo

@a-brilliante-mariposa

@fandomtrashsblog

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gojosconsort · 4 months ago

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FUCK YOU (ON THAT BIKE) ♡ // SUKUNA

⁀➷ CONTENT. you thought you could bug sukuna while he’s working on his bike and get away with it. big mistake—he’s about to fuck you raw on that leather seat ‘til you’re crying his name.

♡ PAIRING. afab!reader x boyfriend!sukuna

♡ WARNINGS. mdni. choking (a little), spanking, finger-fucking (mouth), degradation, dacryphilia, manhandling, creampie, hair-pulling, spit, tears, sweat, grease (sorry), motorcycle sex, bratty!reader, sukuna being sukuna (sorry, not sorry)

♡ WORD COUNT. 2,400

you’re sprawled out on the shitty old couch in BOYFRIEND!SUKUNA’S garage, legs kicked up over the armrest, scrolling through your phone like it’s the only thing keeping you from dying of boredom. the air smells like motor oil and stale cigarettes, and the faint hum of some trap beat leaks from a busted speaker in the corner.

sukuna’s over by his pride and joy—his matte-black motorcycle—hunched over it with a wrench in his tattooed hand. he’s been at it for hours, tweaking shit you don’t even pretend to understand, and you’re starting to get antsy.

“yo, how long you gonna fuck with that thing?” you call out, not even looking up from your screen. “feels like i’ve been sitting here forever.”

he doesn’t answer right away. just grunts, like you’re a fly buzzing around his head he’s too busy to swat. you roll your eyes, tossing your phone onto the cushion beside you, and sit up. the leather of his jacket you’re wearing—stolen from his stash—creaks as you move. it’s too big for you, swallowing your frame, but you like how it smells like him—smoke, sweat, and his cologne.

“sukunaaa,” you say again, louder this time, dragging out the last syllable like a brat. “c’mon, i’m bored as hell. entertain me or some shit.”

he finally looks up, those sharp red eyes fixed on you. his jaw’s tight, grease smeared across his cheek, and his black tank clings to his chest from the heat and even when he’s annoyed, he’s hot as sin. maybe especially when he’s annoyed.

“you see me working, yeah?” he snaps. “shut your damn mouth ‘fore i give you somethin’ to do with it.”

you smirk, hopping off the couch and sauntering over to him. the concrete’s cold under your bare feet, and your shorts ride up your thighs as you move. you know he’s watching, even if he’s pretending not to. “what, you gonna put me to work? i ain’t touchin’ that greasy-ass bike.”

he snorts, tossing the wrench onto the workbench with a loud clank. “you couldn’t handle it anyway, princess. too busy runnin’ that mouth.”

“maybe ‘cause you’re takin’ too damn long,” you shoot back, leaning against the bike’s seat, arms crossed. you’re close enough now that you can feel the heat rolling off him, see the way his veins pop under his skin as he flexes his hands. “thought you were good with your hands, big guy. guess not.”

that does it. you see the shift in his face—the way his eyes narrow, lips curling into something mean and dangerous. he steps toward you, slow and deliberate, and before you can blink, he’s got you caged against the bike, one hand slamming down on the handlebars beside you. the metal groans under his grip.

“you wanna push me, huh?” he growls, leaning in so close his breath hits your face. it’s hot, smells like menthol and alcohol, and your stomach flips. “keep talkin’ shit, see where it gets you.”

you tilt your head, grinning like an idiot ‘cause you love this—love how easy it is to rile him up. “what you gonna do about it, ‘kuna? spank me?”

his hand’s on you in a second, rough fingers grabbing your jaw, tilting your head back so you’re forced to meet his glare. “you’re fuckin’ annoying, you know that?” he mutters, but there’s this spark in his eyes—and you know you're winning. “can’t even let me finish my shit without actin’ up.”

“maybe i just want your attention,” you say, voice all syrupy and fake-innocent, batting your lashes at him. his grip tightens, and you can feel the calluses on his palm scraping your skin.

“oh, you’re gonna get it,” he says, and then he’s moving, shoving you back against the bike so hard you stumble. the leather seat digs into your ass, and he’s on you before you can catch your breath, one hand fisting in your hair, pulling you closer.

“sukuna—!” you yelp, half-laughing, half-shocked, but he cuts you off with a hard kiss, biting your lip hard. it’s messy, nasty, and you’re already soaked, thighs squeezing tight like that’s gonna hide it, but then he shoves his knee between them.

the denim of his jeans scrapes against your flimsy shorts, and he grinds his leg right up against your pussy, slow and deliberate, pressing in ‘til you can feel the friction burning through the fabric. it feels so good, teasing, and you can’t help the little moan that slips out, muffled against his lips.

“shut the fuck up,” he snarls against your mouth, tugging your head back so your neck’s exposed. his teeth graze your throat, sharp and mean, and you whine, hands scrambling to grab onto his shoulders and nails digging into the hard muscle under his tank while he’s still working his leg against you, grinding that thick thigh right where you’re throbbing. the pressure’s got your hips twitching, chasing it without even meaning to, and you’re damn near panting already. “you wanted this, yeah? fuckin’ beggin’ for it with that smart-ass mouth,” he says.

“didn’t... ngh—didn’t say that,” you gasp, but it’s a lie and he knows it, that bullshit excuse dying on your tongue as his knee presses harder, rubbing up and down, making your head spin.

he smirks like he’s about to ruin you and love every second of it, then he’s spinning you around fast, shoving you down ‘til you’re bent over the bike, chest slammed against the seat. the leather’s warm from the sticky garage heat, clinging to your skin through your thin-ass tank top, and your tits are pressed so hard against it they’re practically spilling out, making your nipples perk up even more against the rough leather.

“bullshit,” he says, kicking your legs apart with his boot, spreading you wide like you’re his to play with. his hand cracks down on your ass, a sharp, stinging smack that makes you yelp, the sound bouncing off the garage walls, and you hear him chuckle—like he’s getting off on it.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down just enough—barely past your ass, fabric bunched tight around your thighs, pussy dripping and on display. “look at you, fuckin’ dripping already,” he mutters, smearing a rough hand over the wet mess between your legs, “needy little slut.”

you whimper, pushing your hips back toward him, ‘cause yeah, you are needy—have been since you walked in here and saw him all sweaty and pissed off. there’s something about sukuna when he’s like this, rough and unfiltered, that makes you stupid for him. “just fuck me already, asshole,” you mutter, glancing over your shoulder at him.

his eyes flash, and then he’s yanking his jeans down. his cock springs free, thick, heavy, veins bulging under the skin, tip already leaking a fat bead of precum that glistens in the dim garage light, and fuck, it’s so long and girthy.

he steps up close, smirking at how you’re bent over, ass up, and grabs your hips with those big, rough hands, fingers digging in ‘til it stings. you’re already a mess—needy as fuck, whimpering soft and pathetic under your breath, little “please, ‘kuna” sounds slipping out ‘cause you can’t help it, you want him bad.

he doesn’t rush it right away—nah, he’s a fucker like that and you hate him for that—shoves his cock between your folds first, sliding that fat length back and forth, teasing you with it. the tip catches on your clit, smearing his precum all over your slick pussy, and he grinds it there, slow and mean, letting you feel every inch of him rubbing up against you ‘til your whimpers get louder, needier, hips twitching desperate for more.

“fuckin’ wet for me,” he mutters, then he pulls back just enough, pushes your soaked panties to the side with a flick of his thumb, and slams into you—bottoming out in one brutal thrust that splits you open, making your whole body lurch forward against the bike.

“fuck—!” you cry out, hands scrabbling against the bike for something to hold onto. the stretch burns, sharp and overwhelming, but it’s so good, the kind of pain that melts into pleasure fast. he doesn’t wait, doesn’t ease up—starts fucking you hard and fast, hips snapping against yours with a force that makes the whole damn motorcycle rock.

“this what you wanted?” he growls, leaning over you, one hand wrapping around your throat. his fingers dig into your skin, not choking yet, just holding you there, keeping you pinned. “huh? fuckin’ take it then.”

“y-yeah,” you moan, voice breaking as he hits that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. the bike’s shaking too, creaking under the weight of his thrusts, and you can hear the wet slap of skin on skin, the filthy sound of him pounding into you. it’s nasty, raw, everything you love about him.

he tightens his grip on your throat, just enough to make your head spin, and you’re gone—clawing at the seat, gasping his name like a prayer. “sukuna... fuck, ‘kuna, don’t stop—”

“fuckin’ loud,” he says, but you can tell he loves it, loves how your so messy for him. his other hand slides down, smacking your ass again—once, twice, ‘til it stings—then grabs a fistful of your ass, pulling you back onto him harder. “gonna make you scream, brat.”

and he does. he fucks you like he’s trying to break you, each thrust deeper, rougher, hitting that sweet spot over and over ‘til your vision blurs. your thighs are slick, dripping down onto the bike, and he laughs when he notices. “messy fuckin’ slut,” he says, reaching down between your legs and smearing something onto his fingers before shoving them into your mouth. “taste yourself.”

you groan around his fingers, sucking on them like he wants, lips stretched tight as he shoves two thick digits into your mouth, pumping them in and out like he’s fucking your face with them. they’re rough, calloused, tasting like salt and grease, and he’s not gentle—thrusting deep ‘til they hit the back of your throat, making you gag.

your tongue flattens against them, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, and you can barely keep up, slurping messy and loud. he’s watching you, eyes dark and hooded, loving how you choke on it just for him. “fuckin’ nasty,” he mutters, voice hoarse, and he pushes them deeper, curling them against your tongue ‘til you’re whining around the intrusion.

you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks, and he curses under his breath, hips stuttering against you, cock still buried deep inside. “shit, you’re tight—gonna... ughh... fuck—” he cuts himself off with a growl, yanking his fingers free with a wet pop, a string of spit trailing from your lips to his hand before he he pulls out of you just long enough to flip you onto your back. the bike wobbles, but he steadies it with one hand, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

“look at me,” he says, slamming back into you, and you do—eyes locked on his as he fucks you senseless. his face is flushed, sweat dripping down his jaw, and he looks like a goddamn animal. got your legs hooked over his shoulders, one hand gripping your thigh so tight you’re gonna have bruises shaped like his fingers tomorrow, the other braced on the bike to keep it from tipping over while hips bullies his cock into, the wet slap-slap-slap of skin on skin echoing in the garage louder than the trap beat still buzzing in the background.

his cock’s thick, stretching you open every time he buries it to the hilt, dragging against your walls in a way that’s almost too much, the head hitting that spot inside you over and over ‘til your toes curl and your vision starts to white out. his muscles flex under his tattooed skin with every roll of his hips, like he’s claiming you, breaking you apart just ‘cause he can. “gonna cum for me?”

“y-yeah,” you whimper, nails digging into his arms. “please, ‘kuna—”

he grins and then his thumb’s on your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that make your whole body lock up. it’s too much, too fast, and it sends you crashing over the edge hard. you scream, just like he promised, voice tearing outta your throat raw and desperate, back arching off the bike so far you nearly slip.

your orgasm rips through you—messy as fuck, intense, a hot flood that leaves you trembling, thighs soaked, and tears spilling down your cheeks ‘cause it’s overwhelming as shit. your chest heaves, little sobs breaking free between gasps, and he doesn’t stop—keeps fucking you through it, cock slamming into you relentless, dragging out every shudder and twitch, crying his name in wet, broken hiccups. “s-sukuna... fuck—‘kuna—”

“fuckin’ good girl,” he mutters and then he’s coming too, burying himself balls-deep with a guttural groan that rumbles through his chest. you feel it—hot, thick spurts filling you up, spilling out around him ‘cause there’s nowhere else for it to go—and he doesn’t pull out right away, just stays there, hips pressed flush to yours, panting heavy and ragged.

he leans down, your tears are still streaming, salty and warm, but hen his tongue flicks out licking a fat stripe up your cheek, tasting the wet mess of your cries. “fuckin’ crybaby,” he murmurs, but he loves it and you whimper, half-embarrassed, half-gone from how fucked-out you are, his breath hot against your skin as he stays buried inside you, his cum dripping down steadily between you legs.

when he finally lets go, you’re a wreck—sprawled out on the bike, legs trembling, his cum leaking out of you onto the leather and he smirks. “marked my shit up,” he says, nodding at the bike. “guess you’re good for somethin’.”

you laugh, weak and breathless, barely managing to lift your hand to flip him off, fingers shaky. “fuck you.”

“fuckin’ act up again, huh?” he shoots back, zipping up his jeans with a lazy tug. he steps away, leaving you there sprawled like a used rag, and grabs the wrench off the workbench like nothing happened, crouching back down by the bike to mess with it again while his cum’s still dripping out of you onto the floor next to him, and he doesn’t even glance at it—just keeps working.

you pull yourself together, sorta, hair a sweaty mess sticking to your face and flop back onto the couch, limbs heavy like they’re made of lead. “still bored,” you say, just to fuck with him.

he glares over his shoulder. “keep it up, and round two’s gonna be worse.”

you grin. “promise?”

————— ୨୧ —————

⁀➷ masterlist

#—amy writes : ryomen sukuna ★#ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #divider by cafekitsune

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themightyhumanbroom · 2 years ago

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The fight between Surge and Shadow reaches its climax and an old foe reveals itself

Told ya chapter 3 would come out quick! Thrilled to finish this fic, it was a lot of fun to write. Happy I finally got to reveal a plot point I've been working on for a while. There is gonna be a fic after this one that deals with the aftermath of this whole mess. After that fic were gonna go back to some slice of life fluff stuff. Been slacking on the surgolin content lol.

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lead-to-light · 9 months ago

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Welcome to the lead to light ask blog!

Here you can ask the cast of the lead to light AU questions and they'll answer them as long as they're not really really really weird. (I have a high tolerance for weird but please don't stress test it lol)

Here are the characters you can ask questions at the moment

Lanolin

Surge

Kit

Tangle

Whisper

Jewel

Belle

Grease

Amy

Sonic

Silver

Tails

Knuckles

Rouge

Shadow

Omega

Clove

Rough

Tumble

Clutch

Ian Jr

Gadget

Cassia

Barry

Chelydri

Jerry

Connor

Vicki

Annabelle

Caoine

Please do not send an ask involving an OC or AU that you didn't create.

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bumpsyp1ains · 16 days ago

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the clumsycule chapter 4 is out now!

#future of freedom au #amy rose #knuckles the echidna #trip the sungazer #rouge the bat #belle the tinkerer #kit the fennec #grease the orangutan #ashley the leopard #rachel the squirrel

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y0-yo-yo · 4 months ago

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DCxDP: Amity Park aka uncanny Valley

Who ever thought that a family road trip across the country was ever a good idea? Especially when the family concerned is the Waynes!

...plus a Brown but you can't really talk Waynes without including Stephanie Brown

Bruce had a gala to attend in Chicago during the summer vacation Dick jumped at the opportunity to do a family road trip and try his newest car/van

was putting a Damian Wayne in an enclosed space with a Tim Drake a good idea? No. Was Dick going to argue with Bruce at least thrice a day? Maybe Will Jason be even remotely happy to be part of this trip? Probably not and will all the kids fight to choose who is in charge of the radio? Most definitely, but it'll be fun!

At first everything was awful,Bruce made them wake up terribly early, for once that Tim had slept that night! (albeit for only three hours which was plenty if you asked him) to leave even before the sun was up

Then it became alright, the eight seat car was spacy enough to not get into each other's personal space, everyone started to sing along to music and exchanging playlists

Dick had an awful amount of dico and 80's music, Bruce played his dad rock while Steph and Jason talked white girl music

They started their trip by going through Pennsylvania, taking pictures and joking on how Batman should be a local super hero there instead than in new Jersey,then they headed for Washington DC, it was fun visiting the hall of justice as tourist even tho they all knew the place better than the guides,then they went through Kentucky where Dick really wanted to visit the 'longest cave in the world' and comparing it to the bat cave (Bruce was unimpressed)

And finally they'll drive right through Illinois to get Bruce to Chicago and escape before he tries to get them to join the Gala

And then the car broke down in the middle of nowhere.

The sun would set soon but it was still really hot as we were in early August.

"the GPS say the closest city is a fourty five minutes walk" Annonce Duke while Dick,Tim and Bruce tried to find what's wrong with the car

"We could easily do the journey" Damian says placing a draw two making Steph, too invested in this game of uno with Cass and the demon brat frown

"in this heat!? Do you want us to die of a stroke?" The blond replied placing a plus two as well

"It looks like it's our only choice guys...the car won't start anytime soon better get to a town and buy some new parts" The eldest said from the front of the car

"can't we just call a cab or something?"

Asked Stephanie

"privileged behavior" Duke replied back to back "plus I don't think there's cabs in bumfuck nowhere...I ain't never even heard of 'Amity Park', plus, if they did they wouldn't have eight seat"

"wait Amity Park?" Asked Tim who was swiping grease on a now ruined travel towel "I have family who lives there..." He said thoughtfully

"maybe you can ask them if they have a place to stay for the night? There's only cheap motels in this town and I don't really wanna catch bed bugs" Duke says still on his phone

"oh wow now look who has privileged behavior!" Stephanie snort a smirk on her lips as she add a plus four to Cass's

"uhm can we go back to the part of Tim having living family members? That own a house? Why would you make up one if you had family in the state?" Dick ask "and why do you live with us?" Added Damian because, of course he would

"well... it's not like we talked a lot, I saw them...maybe two times in my life? And they were definitely my parents type of neglectful so going to them wouldn't have changed much"

"...do they also have a kid?" Bruce ask and before he got the chance to talk more he got shut down with a "no you can't adopt more kids!" From all his children

"but yes they do have a kid, we got along great from what I remember...but except sparkly pink dress I don't remember much..." Tim clarified

"I vote we still ask them for a place to stay or at least a ride, if they're Drake's family they should at least have a limousine or mansion no?" Steph asked eager to find a good bed once more

"I don't know...I haven't talked to them much... especially not after my mother's passing...I don't even know if I still have their number" Tim think his voice a little lower, he did think about his mother's sister and her family when he was still living alone in the Drake mansion but thinking back on the blurry memories of being forgotten for hours on end with his cousin didn't really make him want to reach out

"it's okay if you don't want to Timothy, we can find another way" Bruce says in his paternal voice placing a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulder

"no,no it's okay, a call won't hurt right?"

Tim looked through his phone and he, in fact, did have his cousin's number saved, he stepped away from the car to make the call. He was a bit nervous and a bit ashamed, he had a cousin his age that lived in similar conditions as him and he never thought to check up or call,and now that he did it was for a favour, they hadn't talked in over ten years and he couldn't really remember what they were like, hopefully they hadn't grown up like their parents as a stuck up asshole

----------------------------------------------------------

Samantha Manson wasn't a family person,

She didn't care for them,they didn't care for her.

She labeled all her extended family members under "family" as contact names and usually wouldn't pick up when they'd call, not that they did regularly

Yet,she was in a good mood today so when her phone light up and her ringtone rung she picked up

"uhm Hi Sam...antha?... it's Tim- Timothy drake?Wayne? I uhm- our moms are sisters?"

Was the anxious voice that waited for her on the other side of the phone

Huh...

Huh.... Timothy ? Oh fuck Timothy ! Was she a bad cousin to have forgotten one of the only kids her age that she got along with in her family?

Well got along is a big word they just stuck around each other the two times their families were attending the same galla but it was fun for once...if she remembered correctly

It was still a time where he mother was the one dressing her up in those awful sparkly or floral dresses with cutesy hairdo...a goth's nightmare Sam got shivers just thinking back on it

"Yes I remember you Tim Drake...what can I do to help?"

--------------------------------------------------------

"okay so, my cousin say she can come pick us up as long as we don't care for basic road safety?"

Tim said coming back to his family who had all migrated to sit at a picnic table near the car

Jason Dick and Damian who had left for a gas station a few minutes ago to grab some snacks and see if they had anything to fix the car came back at the same time dropping bags of chips, candy and other bar chocolate

The comment about road safety made Bruce frown (hypocrite) but all the other kids could not care less

"so...we're not getting picked up by a limousine? Or is it more of a bus bar type of thing?"

Stephanie ask resulting on her head being bonked by Dick

"no the real question is what's your cousin like?"

"I am not spending a car ride with a snobbyer version of Tim"

Jason added making Damian nod in agreement and Tim roll his eyes

"To be honest, I don't remember much? She didn't sound snobby on the phone?"

Tim guess trying to make a mental image of what Samantha may look now, she probably let her dark chocolate brown hair grow? Or maybe she cut them? Would she still wear floral prints and sparkles? Probably not she hated them as a kid

"and how are her parents?"

Bruce inquired not without warning glares from his kids

"I remember even less! But Sam said they weren't home so..."

"hn"

Bruce narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything

"really all I remember about them is the fakest laugh and sparkly pink dresses"

Tim sighed

"sparkly pink dress? Are you trying to kill my rep?"

A new voice joined in the conversation making everyone at the table jump save from cass who had noticed the presence long ago

All but turned to see this goth girl wearing an all black dress with at least three layers of clothes and even more in accessoires

She smiled at them with teeth a little too sharp for comfort

"hi I'm Samantha Manson, but please call me sam! I hope you won't mind but my car might me a little cramped"

She said in a friendly voice beeping her car key bringing her car, a hearse, back to life radio blasting the latest song she was listening to and making her headlights bath them in light really tieing the whole spooky vibes together

Yeah...the kids are gonna like this girl.

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mariasont · 11 days ago

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hot to the touch

you were fully prepared to tease aaron mercilessly while he grills, but one small burn has him play caretaker. maybe injuries aren't so bad after all

pairing: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader warnings: suggestive content, minor injury (burn), sexual tension, sudden marriage fantasies triggered by men with tongs prompt: here! wc: 0.7k

You nod at all the right times (or maybe the wrong times, you wouldn’t know), while Aaron says something about charcoal ratios or burner placement, details that seem very important to him, and impossible for your brain to retain when he’s looking like that. One hand rests near his mouth, thumb grazing his lower lip like he’s posing for the cover of Men Who Know Things and Also Ruin Your Panties. His shirt clings to his chest with a damp little wrinkle, and you’re hit with the overwhelming urge to drop to your knees and just… take a little detour. Chest to navel, navel to belt.

He drags his forearm across his brow, smearing a dark streak just above his temple — soot, grease, or possibly some chemical compound the government invented in a lab to make men full of pure, unfiltered sex appeal.

“Hold still,” you say quickly, already yanking your tank top up and blotting the edge of the mark with a careful hand. “Got a little something, handsome.”

He doesn’t respond, just stares, all squinty and broody and clearly seconds away from kissing you into next week, right here, in the presence of God and team members while the tongs dangle uselessly from his hand and your body leans just a little too close. Maybe you were meant to be a lake wife. Maybe you were born to wear flannel and make babies with a man who smells like hickory smoke and bourbon. Maybe you need to price out outdoor furniture. And double strollers.

“Sweetheart,” he says, one hand ghosting toward your waist. “Careful. The grill’s hot.”

You bat your lashes. “I’m fully aware of hot things in my immediate vicinity.”

“That’s not —”

“One burns food. One burns through thongs.”

He lets out the kind of breath that sounds like it’s been fighting to escape for an hour. “You want dinner, or do you want me to drop everything and bend you over the nearest surface?”

“...Both?”

He doesn’t justify that with a response, just catches your wrist, kisses it once then tugs you in front of him, slotting you between his arms.

“Okay,” he says against your ear, “burger watch. You look pretty. You keep me company. Talk to me about anything but your thong and warn me if I get too distracted and set something on fire.”

“Are you objectifying me right now, Agent Hotchner?”

“Constantly.”

“So obsessed with me. It’s cute.”

His tongs hover mid-air for a second too long before he clears his throat and shifts a patty to the cooler side of the grill. “You make it difficult to do anything else.”

You open your mouth to hit him with something dramatic, probably “well I make it hard for most men” because you are who you are and he deserves to suffer, but apparently, the universe thinks you’re getting a little too cocky.

Your hand, moving of its own volition like a traitorous limb, finds the grill's edge and suddenly your palm is sizzling like cheap diner bacon at three in the morning. It takes one Mississippi, two Mississippi for your brain to connect sizzling flesh to actual pain.

“Oh,” you squeak.

“Shit,” Aaron breathes, already grabbing your wrist, tugging you toward the kitchen.

The skin at the base of your palm is already turning pink, angry and glossy. You stare at it as Aaron moves. He flips on the faucet, cold water blasting as he angles your wrist under it, thumb pressing gently to the back of your hand to keep it steady.

“Surface burn. Small area. Base of the palm’s got padding, you’re lucky,” he says, almost to himself. “Not deep. Should heal clean.”

“So no amputation?”

“No amputation,” he confirms, half-laughing as he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Though you do seem committed to testing my blood pressure.”

And oh, isn’t that a delightful thought — you, single-handedly responsible for the downfall of Aaron Hotchner’s otherwise perfect cardiovascular health. You’d probably feel guilty i it didn’t thrill you just a bit.

“See? This is what happens when you distract me with your face. I get hurt. And then you get stressed. It’s a dangerous cycle, Aaron.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

You tilt your head toward him, lashes still damp from the steam, mouth pulled into a soft pout. “In the meantime, I think you should take responsibility and kiss me until I forget I was ever injured.”

He chuckles under his breath, already reaching for the burn cream. “Somehow I don’t think that’s what the CDC recommends.”

Yet, despite his skepticism, he’s already leaning in, breaking every known regulation in existence, just for you.

join me at the lake for my 5k event!

maria's red, white and bau masterlist

#mariasredwhiteandbau #mariaversegetawaytrip #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x self insert #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic

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luludeluluramblings · 9 months ago

Text

SugarBaby!Reader (Neglected!Bat!Sibling) x Tony Stark - Falling in Love

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two

A/N: Someone wanted more fluff of this and I had thoughts about it last night. Tony isn’t my favorite, but I kinda wanted to challenge myself with this and see if I could try it writing some romance.

A/N: Smalltown!Reader is still coming. Pregnant!Reader will be getting a part 2 at some point. Might post another series, the one army dreamer inspired, because why not? Gonna have sooo many WIPs. But, maybe they’ll give y’all some delight.

Warnings: GN!Reader, Mentions of bedroom activities, fluffy, not edited, hardly anything Yandere. Intended to be

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

When you and Tony started dating it had been after he had wooed you at some gala. Something for a long forgotten charity. You had initially been hesitant, knowing his play boy reputation. The one so eerily similar to your father’s Brucie Wayne persona.

Still he was charming, good looking, and had convinced you that one night wouldn’t hurt.

And, it hadn’t. The next day when you were about to crawl out of bed and begin your walk of shame, he had dragged you back. Taking his time repeating the night before and with an encore.

By the time you had finally been allowed to leave the bed, your stomach had let out an embarrassing growl that made your cooling skin flush once more.

Of course, Tony wasn’t going to let anyone he spent such a good time with go hungry. Ordering the two of you room service and a giant spread of breakfast.

It’s in that moment things start to shift. You were a good lay for Tony. A young pretty little thing that was some of the best he had had in a while. (Due to him mellowing out with age, not that he’d ever admit that.) But, it’s the way you look at him, shyly and with such genuine gratitude just for him buying to brunch that makes him stop.

Not pause. Because pause means he’ll end up playing again. And, he’s fairly certain he’s done playing. Because, when you happily sit in his button down shirt, munching on the food he bought you, and listen to him talk about an old project (he wasn’t dumb enough to share anything new he’d been working on) with such bright eyes and enthusiasm he realizes this might be trouble for him. It’s even cuter because he knows you don’t understand a single thing he’s saying, but you’re trying. You’re trying so hard and it’s so cute.

It keeps going on like that. Passionate nights and slow talkative mornings that morph into date nights and fun trips and days lounging together. You’re still honestly convinced it could all end at any moment. Nothing good last in your life. And, despite how desperately you want this to last you know it probably won’t. Still you swear to hold on. To take everything he’ll offers. Even if it’s not much and he leaves you in the end. You’re going to appreciate how full and fulfilled her makes you feel.

For you, you fall in love slow and overtime. It a soft and startling realization when you realize you love Tony. You love him dearly and he could break your heart into a million pieces. But, it would be worth it.

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Loving him and waiting for him. To leave.

For Tony, it’s similar. He spoils you he does. He loves the way you look at him when he does. But, as he unknowingly starts to settle, the realization that he’s not showing you off in public as much anymore and that he enjoys just being near even when there’s nothing to talk about hits him in the chest. And, in a Tony Stark like fashion, he spirals for a bit.

It causes him to spend three full days in his lab avoiding the world and his problems. Not sleeping, hardly eating, ignoring Jarvis.

When he finally does emerge, he’s covered in sweat and grease. He aches. He’s tired. He’s irritable. His fully expecting you to be mad he missed your fancy date he had planned. But, when he looks up at you and see’s that exact same grateful look in your eyes, it clicks. You give him that same look of gratitude and adoration every time he does something for you. He’s not doing anything other than being here with you. And, that’s enough for you. You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you. And your willing to love him as his is and with what ever he gives.

Tony doesn’t confess though. To cliche. Instead he proposes. With no ring, no plan, and covered in grease. But, completely serious. It isn’t long until you understand he really means it, that he wants you for you and you’re leaping in his arms crying, yes. Yes. And the. You tell him to shower, because despite the love you feel and your happiness, he smells ripe.

He chases you around instead, before dragging you into the shower with him.

It isn’t until you both have a small private court house ceremony and he’s dragging you on to a luxury honeymoon that he leans over and confesses. Casually. Like it was a stray fact.

“Oh, hey, by the way, I love you.”

It makes you squawk that he has the audacity to do such a thing, but you lean into him and say it back.

“I love you, too… Silly old man.”

“Hey! That’s not what you were saying when I-“

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You hadn’t even thought about you family with Tony. Hadn’t thought to invite them to the wedding. You did call Alfred as soon as you got back though. Telling him the good news with so much happiness that the old Bulter cried when the call ended. You had sounded radiant, and it broke his heart.

Broke his heart that no one in the family had seen just how beautiful your joy was and that they had never bothered to cause it.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Based off this ask.

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader #marvel x reader #marvel #sugar baby!reader

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