#if a hug would help I insist you try again

[spookieolson]

First Date- Chris Motionless x Reader

Tw: None! Just fluff!

A/n: woah I’m actually uploading fics again?? I actually had the motivation and desire to write today who cheered? I felt like writing fluff for our fav spooky singer. Enjoy!!

Taglist: @skulliecadaver-blog @witchyweeb34 @cookiesupplier @raydenrrobertson @sakuracyberhex @beaker1636 @lyschko666 @black-damask1999 @synthetic-wasp-570 @jilliemiw86 @tearfallpixie @thatchickwiththecamera @th0ughts-pr4yers @zuberweirrd @bxrnthyfears @miamore0570 @yournecessaryevil @arkiliastuff

………………………………………

You sit down on the tan chair by a table at a family owned coffee shop as you wait patiently for your date, Chris.

You had met at this very same coffee shop two days ago, accidentally bumping into him and spilling your drink all over his shirt.

Strangely enough, he wasn’t fazed or upset by it. In fact, he was rather calm and sweet about the incident, letting you help clean his shirt off. It was a pleasant surprise, you thought for sure he would be pissed off and make a fuss of it.

He even helped you calm down a bit after what happened, seeing as your anxiety was getting the better of you. He talked you through it all, making sure that you controlled your breathing.

Eventually, you did calm down, and offered to buy him a coffee to make up for it. Even though he stated that you didn’t need to, you were insistent. Besides, it would give you an excuse to see the handsome stranger again. Seeing as you wouldn’t take no for an answer, he accepts and you give him your number.

You fidget with the hem of your blue dress, foot lightly tapping anxiously as you awaited Chris. Your thoughts were starting to get the better of you. What if he didn’t show up? What if you accidentally spilled your coffee on him again? What if he doesn’t like you and never speaks to you again?

Before your paranoia could get the better of you, your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching you followed by a chair being pulled out.

“Hey, y/n. Sorry if I’m a few minutes late, couldn’t find my keys for a minute back at home,” Chris says with a sheepish chuckle as he sits down. He takes in your looks. “You look pretty.”

His compliment makes your cheeks flush. “O-oh, thank you. You look good yourself. And you’re not late, don’t worry!” You stutter a bit before clearing your throat. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Any excuse to get out of the house for coffee is a deal for me. My band mates call me a coffee fiend.” He says with an eye roll and slight laugh.

You chuckle at his comment. You had been texting back and forth over the past two days and you remember him mentioning he was in a band. You had checked out the music, and it was love at first listen. Chris’ voice was incredible, and it gave you even more reason to like him.

“Hey, can’t blame you there. I love a good latte every morning and I have to say, this place definitely satisfies that craving.”

“Oh, definitely. I discovered this cafe a couple of years ago and it has never failed to impress me every time I come. Always a treat coming here, especially since it brought us together.” Chris says with a soft smile, his expression genuine.

You can’t help but smile yourself, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I can say the same. Would you wanna order now?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You both get up and walk up to the counter. You place your order and you pay the cashier. Once that’s done, you step to the side and wait.

As you’re waiting, you can feel an unfamiliar man’s eyes on you. He’s staring at your body, and it’s making you uncomfortable. You hug your arms over your body and try not to look at the man.

Chris seems to take notice of your body language fairly quickly, and raises a brow. He looks over and sees the man staring. A pit of disgust forms in his gut, glaring at the man and wrapping an arm over your shoulders.

The gesture makes you blush, your heart skipping a beat. The man sees how Chris is holding you, frowning before he stops looking at you and sulks away. You let out a sigh of relief once he’s no longer near you.

“Thank you…he was making me really uncomfortable..” You mutter softly, looking up at Chris with a grateful expression.

He nods with a small smile, releasing you and giving you a bit of space. “Of course. I could tell how uneasy you were, that guy was a dick.” He says, a bit of annoyance in his tone. He hated people like that, staring and making others uncomfortable.

“I appreciate it.” You say as your order number is called. You go up to the counter and pick up your order.

“Careful, don’t spill your drink on me this time,” Chris teases with a wink, carrying his coffee and pastry. You roll your eyes with a smile.

“Oh hush. I’ll be careful.” You state as you go sit back down. You sit and pick up your breakfast sandwich, taking a bite and humming at the taste.

“This place makes the best breakfast sandwiches. If I could, I’d live off these things.” You say in between bites, devouring the sandwich within a matter of minutes.

“Oh yeah, they’re pretty great. Way better than Starbucks or Dunkin.” Chris says, munching away on his donut. You nod in agreement.

You finish up your food, now sipping on your latte. “I still have some coffee left to finish, wanna take a walk in the park across the street? Weather’s nice.” Chris suggests.

“That would be nice.” You say with a smile, standing. Chris smiles and stands as well, now taking your hand in his. This makes you blush yet again.

His hand was larger than yours, tender and warm. You take notice of the tattoos on his fingers, knuckles and hand. The intricate work was impressive, and his tattoos looked good on him.

You now leave the cafe, walking hand in hand with Chris across the street to the local park. You had a soft spot for it, you grew up near it. Your parents took you all the time so it held quite a bit of nostalgia for you.

“I’ve always loved this park,” You say as you walk through the entrance, taking in the cherry blossom trees and random strangers that have been in the area. “My parents took me all the time, and my friends and I went here after school. It’s always been a peaceful place.”

Chris hums. “That’s a nice thing. It’s nice that it’s quiet. You’d think that I wouldn’t mind noisy, occupied places but I actually prefer a more slow paced, peaceful environment. It’s easier to think that way.” Chris speaks thoughtfully as he too takes in the sights.

You nod. “I can understand that. It must be nice to get away from the noise.”

“For sure. Whenever I get the chance to on tour, I always try to find somewhere quiet to be alone and relax for a bit.”

“I don’t blame you.” You say in response. You end up walking around the park, chatting for over an hour. Chris was so easy to talk to, like you had known him for ages. He listened to everything you had to say, genuinely interested.

It was nice getting to hear about his tour life, and what it was like being in a popular band. Despite his fame, he was so humble and down to earth. You were developing quite the crush on him.

As you start to head towards the exit of the park, a cool breeze blows by, causing you to rub your arms as you shiver a bit.

“Damn, if I had known it was going to be a bit chilly I would've brought my jacket-“ As you speak, you’re cut off by Chris’ leather jacket being placed over your shoulders. You smile shyly at the gesture. “Y-you didn’t have to do that.”

Chris shrugs. “You need it more than I do. I’ve got a sweater on anyway, so it’s not a big deal. I’d hate to see you cold.”

His words leave your face warm. He was so kind. “If you’re sure..”

Chris ends up walking you home since you didn’t live far from the cafe. You both stop at your doorstep.

“I had a great time with you today. And thanks for the coffee.” Chris says with a genuine smile, a look of admiration in his eyes.

You smile back. “So did I. And it was no problem. It’s the least I could do.” You say with a sheepish smile. You take off the jacket and hand it back to Chris, only for him to shake his head. You raise a brow.

“Keep it.”

“What? A-are you sure? It is your jacket.” You ask, a bit baffled.

“I’ve got another one just like it back at home. Besides, you look better in it than I do.” Chris laughs softly as you blush. “Would you maybe wanna grab some lunch on Saturday? I’d love to see you again.”

Your face lights up and you can’t help but smile. “I’d like that.” Chris smiles.

“Great, does two work for you?”

“That works. It’s a date.” You say with a warm smile.

Chris’ smile widens. As you turn to unlock your door, Chris leans down and kisses your cheek before stepping back. “I’ll see you Saturday.” He says before he starts to walk away.

You’re left standing there, a blushing mess, but…a happy blushing mess.

[he11swinter]

i love asking these

to Horace and Ryan!! no sure sure if you guys are a big fan of hugs, especially Horace cus youd probably just throw me, but can i get a hug from u guys? im in a rlly bad mood rn!! (just don't kill me pretty pls :3)

Horace and Ryan say:

Ryan’s eyes dart to the side—and up!—in panic of being put on the spot. He’s looking at Horace, whose arms cross with a scoff, looking nowhere close to a wanting to give you a hug. The stance practically dares you to try…just to see how far your body will fly.

“Probably?” Horace whispers, baffled.

Now, Ryan hisses. “Oh, no, I don’t think you’ll want to hug me, either. I mean, I don’t want to hurt you, but oh, y’know, I…don’t play nice with others.”

Secretly, though, it’s been years since someone’s shown him kindness and he doesn’t know how to react to it. He wishes he could say yes.

[reignpage]

Help Me Step-Bro!

Content: dubcon, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, anal

Step-Bro!Choso came with the new house and new husband. Your mother dated a pretty nice guys for about a year before jumping the gun and eloping. Now you have a whole new family: a new father and two new brothers. 

One of them is an adorable little boy, a little ray of sunshine who’s always eager to play and go on adventures. The other is a grungy emo a year older than you, with facial piercings, a tattoo running across his face, messy ponytails, and a sinful body. 

Step-Bro!Choso likes to walk around the house in just his boxers. Having come from an all-male household, he never felt the need to cover up. And though you’ve told him off so many times since you’ve all moved in together, three months ago, he never seems to remember. 

He leaves his room with ruffled hair and plaid pyjama trousers hanging dangerously low on his hips revealing a V-line leading to a place you’ve been trying really hard not to think about. And it’s so hard to when you’ve actually seen the damn thing, and good god, it’s huge -- he really needs to stop forgetting his towel when he comes out of the bathroom. 

“Sorry sis. I forgot again,” he gives you a sheepish shrug. “Bathroom’s free though!”

Step-Bro!Choso is touchy. He loves to cuddle. He does it with Yuji, with his dad, even your mother. Whether it’s just a side hug or one from the back, he does it with everyone, he even greets with his friends with hugs. But with you…

You swear it’s more than just an expression of familial affection. Your new brother doesn’t need to linger, his hands shouldn’t be gripping your hips, arms should not be circling your waist, pushing your tits up and bouncing them when he lifts you. And he really really shouldn’t be rubbing something hard against your ass. 

Step-Bro!Choso swears he can’t sleep when it’s thundering outside. He’s practically shaking when you open your door for him, and what kind of cruel monster would you be if you didn’t let him in? 

“It’s too loud. Can I stay with you for tonight, again?”

So, you lead him to your bed, letting him climb in behind you. His naked back warming your body, arms holding you tight against him whilst he buries his face into the crook of your neck. It’s his tears of fear that wet your skin and not the open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving there, nipping and sucking until your thighs are squeezing together. 

You feel his cold piercings against your skin -- the ones of his eyebrow, and oh no, the one on his tongue?

He pushes his own leg between yours, and his muscular thigh pressing right against your damp panties provides the perfect amount of friction for your throbbing clit. One of his hands creeps under your big shirt, cupping a tit there and letting the weight ground him. He doesn’t pinch your nipples like you’d like him to, just lets you ride his thigh for however long you need. 

Sleep finds both of you after your dull orgasm.

Step-Bro!Choso doesn’t correct people when they think you’re dating. You’d be shopping in a grocery store, his hand tucked inside your jean pocket, cupping your ass, letting you guide him through the aisles. When an elderly lady coos at you both, calling you a lovely pair, he does nothing but grin and bring you closer to press a kiss on your cheek. 

“Thank you! That’s so sweet.” 

He’ll have a smile on for the rest of the day. 

Step-Bro!Choso insists on teaching you how to swim. Tanning by the pool whilst he and Yuji play mermaids isn’t good enough, he says. So, you dip a toe in, testing the temperature, before completely submerging yourself. He comes up behind you, hands on your waist as he encourages you to trust him. 

“Come on! If I can teach Yuji, I can teach you,” he beams at you, his pinky finger tracing the hem of your bikini panties. “Plus, it’s an important skill to have, sis.”

Trusting him, you let his hands wander — he teaches you how to move your arms by guiding them, his hand presses on your stomach to ensure you know how to steady your breath, and he even holds your head down under water to so you know what your limits are. 

You try very hard to ignore that blush on his cheeks when you finally resurface, coughing and spluttering, and the way he's drawn to your heaving chest. Or the fact that his hands kneading your ass serves no educational function, nor does being topless. But he insists that it’s more 'hydrodynamic', that it helps to streamline you when there’s as minimal fabric as possible. 

“I swear, it’s true!” He says as he cups both of your tits under the water whilst your parents come out to the garden, flicking the tips and making the water ripple.

“What are you guys up to?” Your mother asks, more focused on reapplying sunscreen to Yuji’s face. 

Step-Bro!Choso is a good liar. He replies without missing a beat, “Just teaching my sis how to swim.”

Both of your parents seem very proud, likely pleased that everyone’s getting along. Little do they know, you’re getting along very well, if the hot length tucking itself inside your bikini bottom, rubbing along your cheeks, is anything to go by. 

Step-Bro!Choso is a medical expert. When you complain about a headache, instead of paracetamol and a glass of water, he gives you a hands-on service. He promises that it’s a natural and superior method of clearing one of ailments. And he’s older, so he knows more. Of course. As he’s listing off all the benefits, he’s lying you back on the sofa and pulling your shorts down, panties sliding down your legs. 

And then his mouth is on your pussy, licking and sucking all your juices like a man starved. He thrusts his tongue inside, curving it and allowing you to lose yourself to the pleasure, headache forgotten about. Your hands don’t know where to go but he guides them to his ponytails, humming in satisfaction when you don’t hesitate to pull him closer to your sloppy pussy. 

“God, I knew you'd taste as good as you look,” he mutters against your clit. 

There’s shuffling outside the front door and your eyes dart to the wiggling handle. Panicked, you’re trying to push his face away, hissing at him to let you go because your parents came home earlier than planned. 

Step-Bro!Choso only pins your thighs to the sofa with greater strength and dives into your cunt with increased fervour. He’s practically making out with your pussy, his eyes rolling back whilst he kneels on the floor, worshiping your body like he has no care in the world. 

“It’s okay, sissy. I locked the door and took their keys,” he whines into your clit, the vibrations wringing a silent moan from you, the metal ball on his tongue providing delicious friction. “Just cum before they find the spare key under the plant pot.”

And you do. 

Right as the door swings open, you’re being covered with a blanket, and your stepbrother is wiping his chin with his sleeve and offering to help his father with the heavy groceries, pressing a kiss right onto your mother’s cheek and never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Darling, why are you so flushed?” Your new father asks, his hand pressing against your forehead. 

Step-Bro!Choso yells from the kitchen, “Oh, she said she had a headache. But don’t worry, I took care of it!”

He sure did. And he continues to do every time you have a headache and even when you don’t. Sometimes, you’ll be in the kitchen, looking over the living room where your parents are watching TV, chopping vegetables across the kitchen island. He’ll come to offer his assistance and instead of sorting the boiling pot on the hob or setting the table, he, instead, drops to his knees again, pulls your shorts down, and stuff his face into your ass. 

You blame the wet noises of the pasta that is way past al dente by now when your mother asks what all the hubbub is. 

Step-Bro!Choso sits in the back of the car with you. Your parents are at the front, Yuji is in his car seat beside you, asleep, and your thigh is pressed against your older stepbrother’s ripped jeans. Whilst the two argue about the directions, he throws his jacket over your laps and leads your hand to his hard on. 

When you unzip his jeans and let his cock spring free, your eyes remain on your parents, scared they’ll see the odd placement of the jacket, the way you’re both blushing and biting your lips, and the fact that something is moving up and down, getting faster and faster underneath. 

“What do you guys want to eat?” His dad asks, pulling up to a fast-food chain. 

You reply, “Whatever’s good with me.”

And Step-Bro!Choso whispers in your ear, “My little sister’s pussy is the best taste in the world.”

Because of that, you have to drag his hand under his own jacket and into your panties, ensuring he wastes no time in curling them inside you to poke at the spongy spot that leaves you breathless and writhing. The heel of his palm rubs against your clit just as you thumb at his slit. You moan. 

“What was that?” Your mother asks. 

Step-Bro!Choso laughs. “I think she’s really hungry.”

“Well, you have to be patient because it’s going to take a while.”

He’s kneading your clit harder and faster, your chest rising and falling with every shallow breath, desperate to keep the noise down despite how good you’re feeling. But just as you’re about to cum, he slips his hand out and accepts the greasy bag of burgers and fries from his dad and digs in. 

Staring, aghast and all crazy, he ignores your glare and pops a fry into his mouth. He puts on a big show of sucking his fingers clean, his tongue getting deep between them. He groans, “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life!”

Step-Bro!Choso hates your guy friend. You’ve known him far longer than you’ve known your new brother and he’s always been welcome into your home. But for some reason, your usually sweet and kind stepbrother scowls and curses under his breath when he comes over. He even makes sure Yuji doesn’t interact with him, talking about 'stranger danger'.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom mid movie and when you enter, you’re being pushed deeper before the door closes and locks behind you. When you turn to look at your attacker, your vision is obscured by a face tattoo and glinting metal; he kisses you. It’s a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, but so damn good. 

Spinning you around, he pins your front onto the cold ceramic sink, your leggings pulled all the way off and you find your parties being stuffed in your mouth. 

“Don’t like that guy, sissy,” he pouts into your ear, spreading your wetness all over your thighs, almost as if he’s reminding himself that it’s all for him. “Want you all to myself.”

After he wrangles an orgasm out of you with his fingers, your moans muffled by the flimsy fabric of your thong, he’s pushing inside your sopping cunt with his fat cock. The stretch is delectable, it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, spine arching and ass thrusting back into him. 

"This pussy's all I've been thinking about, from the first time I met you," he confesses and it draws out your orgasm further.

Step-Bro!Choso pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, keeping you arched all pretty for him as he plunges again and again into your pussy, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cream on his cock in relentless waves, until you’re creating a ring of white at the base. 

"So -ngh- tight! Fuck, sis! Don't clench down on me, gonna cum!"

He can’t keep his eyes off you; your pussy won’t let him go, it’s sucking him back in with every thrust, every ramming and lunging of his hips. And your asshole is fluttering, winking at him, and he just has to thumb at it, tracing the rim.

“Hph, Cho!” You cry out through your panties. 

“Sorry,” he keeps repeating. “It was calling for me!”

You’re fucking yourself back onto him, meeting every thrust, and loving the sting of your scalp as he pulls at your hair. And when he pushes that thumb in, you cum all over his cock. Juices flying, he can only whimper and whine when his orgasm soon follows, his cum painting your walls white and burning his imprints there, marking his territory. 

Whimpering in your ear, he mutters, "Fuck! So good, so fucking good!"

Step-Bro!Choso doesn’t let you catch your breath before he kisses you again, muttering something indiscernible into your mouth, rolling that tongue piercing between you. You break away with a string of saliva, glistening under the light. And then he pecks your lips once last time with a happy hum. 

“You’re such a good sister,” he smiles toothily. And then he’s kneeling between your legs to slurp up the cum dripping from your gaping pussy, cleaning you up before he lifts the leggings back into the place and sends you off into your merry way. 

When you return, the movie’s long finished and your friend is packing up to go. 

“Y’know, I think your brother brought over a girl. They were really loud.” He’s frowning as he steps out into the front porch. “She sounded like a real slut. You probably shouldn’t let her be around your family.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t notice your blush, or the wet spot between your legs. 

He’s probably right; the girl in the bathroom, and in the car, in the kitchen, the living room, and the pool was a real slut. But she doesn’t care, because her brother’s taking very good care of her. 

And when Step-Bro!Choso appears in your bedroom late at night, when your parents and little brother, are dead asleep, you don’t hesitate to spread your legs so he can dive his face between them, licking up the cum that’s still leaking from your pussy. 

Who cares about family when you’re going to make your own tonight and every night from now on?

Certainly not Step-Bro!Choso who’s proposing when you get on all fours, face planted in the pillows and hands spreading your cheeks open for him so he can fuck your ass too. 

Being a big brother fucking rules!

[luv-lock]

⸻ ʙ ᴇ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ᴅ ⸻

Pairing: Damien Wayne x Fem Reader Part 1

Headcanon: What if he become obsessed with Dick's girlfriend?

Notes: It's just a cute and funny headcanon and should not be taken seriously. Y/n obviously have no feeling for him and see him as a little brother. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You’ve been dating Dick for a while, and naturally, this means you’re in Wayne Manor a lot. It’s not that you mind, but being around the Batfamily is like trying to survive a sitcom where every character is armed.

And then there’s Damien.

Oh, sweet, little, stabby Damien.

At first, he’s a little terror. He’s always scowling at you, calling you things like “Richard’s latest concubine” or “another unnecessary attachment.”

It’s fine. You ignore him. He’s a kid. A weird kid with ninja skills and a superiority complex, but a kid nonetheless.

But then something shifts.

You don’t know when it started—maybe it was the first time you helped Damian with his homework (because, let's face it, the kid can’t count past ten without losing his temper), or maybe it was the first time you accidentally brushed his hair aside while he was brooding on the roof. Either way, the moment you paid him just a little bit of attention, you sealed your fate.

Now Damien was everywhere. Not in an obvious “he’s following you” way—no, he was stealthier than that. He would conveniently show up whenever you visited the Wayne Manor, leaning against a doorframe, pretending he hadn’t been waiting there for 45 minutes.

“Oh, it’s you again. Why are you always lurking like a feral cat, Damien?” you’d tease, and he’d scowl, muttering about how you wouldn’t understand his “intellectual pursuits.”

He starts showing up wherever you are, uninvited. Oh, you’re in the kitchen trying to make breakfast? Guess who just landed behind you, silently hovering like a tiny, murderous shadow? "I see you're using the wrong knife to cut that," he says, smugly eyeing the blade, “and you should be cutting it at a 45-degree angle. Let me handle it.”

You look over, blink a few times, and try to avoid an aneurysm. "Damian, what—"

"I’m simply trying to prevent you from making mistakes," he interrupts, already taking the knife from your hand with the confidence of someone who’s never been told ‘no’ in their entire life. Yes, he did just steal your kitchen knife.

He goes from glaring at you across the dinner table to…well, staring at you.

It’s subtle at first, but you notice. You’ll catch his eyes lingering a little too long when you’re laughing with Dick, or feel him trailing after you when you wander the manor.

You think it’s cute. Like a kid with a crush on their babysitter.

When he insists on showing you his katana skills? You humor him. “Wow, Damien, you’re so talented!” you gush. Dick thinks you’re being nice. Damien thinks you’re in love.

When he critiques your relationship with Dick? “Grayson isn’t good enough for you. He’s reckless, emotionally stunted, and too busy pretending to be a circus clown to prioritize your needs.”

You laugh it off. “I’ll keep that in mind, Damien.”

Mistake #1. He interprets this as you agreeing with him.

When he starts bringing you tea? Complimenting your outfit choices? Sitting way too close to you during movie night?

“Aww, he’s opening up to me!” you think.

Damien is so dramatic about it. Every time Dick kisses you, hugs you, or just breathes in your direction, Damien is in the background like a Shakespearean villain.

He walks into the room, sees you cuddling with Dick, and immediately storms out with a loud, "Tt. Disgusting."

Alfred offers him cookies to calm him down. Damien refuses because he’s too furious to snack.

Mistake #2. You’re feeding the monster.

Damien moves from “weirdly attached” to “what the hell is happening” alarmingly fast.

He wasn’t subtle. He decided to prove his superiority over Dick by painting your portrait. At midnight.

“Damien,” you said when you caught him, holding a brush like he was Da Vinci reincarnated, “why are you painting me?”

“Because no one else can capture your essence,” he replied, dead serious.

You left before he could explain that he was also building a shrine in his closet.

He doesn’t interrupt your date... at first, not directly. He doesn’t need to. Damian’s signature passive-aggressive commentary will follow you home, like a ghost. "I saw you let Dick drive. You know his driving skills are subpar at best, right? I wouldn’t trust him with a paper airplane." You’re not even sure how he knew you two were driving, but the comment lands, and it cuts like a knife.

You try to confront him. “Damian, stop following me around like a puppy! You’re a child. A literal child. Go play with toys or something.”

Damian’s face twists with a mix of indignation and disgust. “I do not play with toys, Y/N. I train. Unlike some people.”

And the best part? Damian doesn't even hide his feelings for you. One night, after you and Dick have spent a quiet evening watching movies, Damian barges in, wearing his usual scowl, and just points at you. "I’ve decided," he declares dramatically. "You’re mine now."

You almost choke on your popcorn. "Excuse me??"

"That’s right. You’ve been chosen." He’s so serious, like this is some ancient prophecy he’s about to fulfill.

He starts referring to you as his beloved in casual conversation.

“Father, inform Grayson he’s no longer allowed to monopolize my beloved’s time.”

“Your what?!” Dick is confused.

At first, you thought it was a joke. “That’s cute, Damien, but I’m pretty sure you learned that from a Victorian novel.”

But he wasn’t joking. He never joked. He’d say it with all the seriousness of someone discussing global diplomacy. “One day, you’ll understand why I call you that, Beloved.”

One day, you accidentally called him a kid in front of everyone. “Relax, kiddo.”

You’d barely finished the sentence before he stormed off, muttering about how ungrateful you were for his “protection.”

Later, Alfred informed you that Damien spent the evening sulking on the roof. “It’s not sulking, Pennyworth. It’s strategizing.”

The moment Damien saw how you look at Dick, something inside him snapped. Why does Grayson get everything? he thought bitterly, watching from the shadows like a gremlin.

From then on, he started… intervening.

He’d interrupt your dates by calling Dick with “emergencies.” (“Richard, Gotham is on fire. I require your assistance.”)

Or other ways.

Dick: “Sorry I’m late. My motorcycle suddenly lost all its tires.”

You: “Wow, weird coincidence. Damien’s been in the garage all day.”

Damien innocently: “You should’ve asked me for a ride, beloved.”

He’d conveniently sit between you on the couch during movie nights, arms crossed, glaring at the screen like he wanted to kill the romantic lead just for existing.

Once, when Dick brought you flowers, Damien helpfully reminded you that roses often carried pests. You gave him a side-eye but thanked him for the warning.

One time, you catch him trying to slip his number into your phone.

“Damien, what are you doing?”

“Ensuring you can contact someone competent in emergencies.”

“That’s what Dick is for?”

“Grayson couldn’t competently fold a bedsheet.”

It all comes to a head when you find Damien casually trying to poison Dick.

You walk into the kitchen and there he is, sprinkling something suspicious into a smoothie.

“Damien, what the hell?”

He doesn’t even flinch. “It’s non-lethal. He’ll just feel weak enough to stay in bed for a few days. That way, we can spend quality time together.”

“QUALITY TIME?!”

He tilts his head, genuinely confused. “Don’t you want that?”

One day, you accidentally brought up his height. “Wow, Damien, have you grown an inch?”

That was it. That was the moment he vowed to become taller than Dick at any cost. He spent weeks researching growth supplements, adjusting his diet, and hanging upside down from the training bars in the Batcave.

Mistake #3. You don’t run immediately.

He “accidentally” breaks the bracelet Dick gave you (oops, it was an inferior material anyway).

Your favorite coffee cup disappears, and suddenly Damien has one just like it. "Strange coincidence, isn’t it?"

Damien starts “correcting” everything Dick tells you, from battle tactics to what kind of wine pairs best with dinner.

He trains Titus to growl whenever Dick comes near you. "Good boy, Titus. Show him who’s unworthy."

He steals your phone to block Dick’s number. "We should eliminate distractions."

You once made the mistake of jokingly calling him "cute," and now he’s convinced you’re secretly in love with him.

Dick, bless his heart, is completely oblivious.

“I think it’s great how well you and Damien are getting along,” he says, grinning like a golden retriever. Meanwhile, Damien is plotting your future wedding.

"I’m humoring her for your sake," Damien lies through his teeth while handing you a handmade sword engraved with your initials.

Damien constantly tries to prove he’s a better option than Dick:

“Richard is reckless. I, however, would never put you in harm’s way.” (Meanwhile, Damien drags you into an actual rooftop stakeout just so he can show off.)

“He can’t even cook. Did you know I can make authentic Middle Eastern cuisine?”

“You deserve someone who values you.”

You find a locked box in your room one day. Inside is a collection of…disturbingly Damien things.

A pressed flower you don’t remember receiving.

A strand of your hair.

A list titled “Reasons Why I’m Better Than Richard” (it’s very thorough).

A draft of a love letter in calligraphy that starts with “Dearest light of my tortured soul…”

You finally sit him down for a talk.

“Damien, you’re like a little brother to me.”

His expression doesn’t change. “I’m not your brother. Nor will I ever be.”

“Damien, you’re sweet, but—”

“I’m not sweet.”

“Okay, you’re terrifying, but you’re also 13.”

He stared at you, eyes narrowing. “I’ll wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For you to realize that I’m the only one worthy of your affection.”

“Damien…”

“The age gap will be irrelevant in five years.”

“And when that day comes, I’ll be ready.”

When you reject him (because obviously), he tries to play it cool but fails miserably.

“Tt. I wasn’t serious anyway. Your taste is terrible.”

Proceeds to storm off, but not before stealing your scarf.

You find it later in his room draped over a practice dummy he definitely punched several times while muttering Dick’s name.

Bruce gets involved after Damien “accidentally” pushes Dick off a rooftop.

“You need therapy,” Bruce says bluntly.

“You’re just upset I succeeded where you failed,” Damien snaps back.

He does go to therapy but somehow convinces his therapist he’s completely normal. (Because of course he does.)

Alfred is the real MVP.

“Perhaps you’d like to consider not obsessing over your brother’s partner, Master Damien.”

“You don’t understand, Pennyworth. She needs to be protected.”

“From what, sir? A happy relationship?”

Everything become worse when Damien starts sparring with Dick for no reason other than to “test his worthiness.” You have to physically drag him away while Dick just stands there, confused and bleeding.

“He’s weak,” Damien hisses as you shove him into a chair.

“He’s your brother!”

“And yet, he’s undeserving.”

In the end, Damien doesn’t give up. He’s stubborn like that.

Part 2. Part 3.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aegon x niece! reader (Rhaenyra’s daughter) smut please! Aegon has always been in love with her and manages to convince Alicent and Viserys to let him marry her. The reader is just as in love and when they get married, thwir wedding night is full of love and passion and 🫦. Aegon hugging her tight while fucking her and reader whimpering and moaning in his ear 🤌🏽

I received so many requests these past days and got inspiration for a lot of them (14!!), so expect more very soon <3 I'm trying to include everything (smut, angst, action)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p + v, loss of virginity

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Standing in the Great Sept of Baelor, your eyes couldn’t stray from Aegon. Blood was dripping slowly from his bottom lip after being cut after being cut and smeared on his forehead. His frizzy hair had been tamed and the cold of his clothes made the blue of his eyes stand out. 

A dagger was handed to you to cut your palm with. You hissed slightly, watching as blood seeped out. You held your hand away from your pretty dress, not wishing to dirty it with blood, then passed the dagger to Aegon who did the same. He clasped his hand with yours, your blood mingled together as a blood silk was wrapped over your joined hands. 

Queen Alicent wanted Aegon to marry following the Faith of the Seven, but he insisted on Valyrian tradition as the bond by blood was unbreakable. 

‘’Blood of two, joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time or darkness and light,’’ the officiant said, reading from an old book. 

Aegon could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t wait to call you his wife, to walk around court with your arm looped around his. And to no longer have a chaperon following you everywhere. It was so annoying. The only times you were able to be alone together was when you would elope on your dragons. 

If your parents thought a chaperon would stop you from sharing kisses and letting your hands wander to places they should not be, they were mistaken. 

The officiant finally allowed you to kiss, and every part of Aegon ached to shove his tongue into your mouth and kiss the life out of you in front of everyone. But he restrained himself, settling for a kiss that would be just enough to make your cheeks flush. 

When the ceremony came to an end, everyone was bright back to the Keep. You rode a carriage with Aegon and your little brother, Joffrey, which you suspected was a scheme by your parents to make sure no sexual activities would happen in the carriage. 

Aegon's hand was resting on your thigh, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear. ‘’This is so frustrating. They really did this on purpose, didn't they?’’ 

‘’It’s not entirely a bad thing. I wouldn’t want you to crease or stain my dress before the feast,’’ you said, smoothing the shimmery white fabric of your dress as you fawned over the gold embroideries. You had never seen a more beautiful gown.  

Aegon smiled smugly, thinking back to your last dragon ride together and the kisses you shared in the clearing…and his hand that slipped into your riding pants. ‘’Little does these fools know, we’ve played them before.’’ Smirking, he leaned in again. ‘’You know what kind of effect you have on me, wearing that dress. Especially knowing what's underneath.’’ He gave your thigh a little squeeze, his hand starting to move upwards just for a moment.

You quickly covered his hand with your own, stopping him. ‘’Stop it. Not here.’’ 

You looked over and saw Joffrey sitting on the opposite seat. Luckily, the boy was too preoccupied staring out the window to notice anything.

A sigh left your husband’s lips. ‘’I don’t want to wait until tonight. I won’t be able to.’’ 

Thankfully, the journey to the Red Keep was short. The doors to the carriage were opened and Aegon stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you out. He took a moment to let his eyes roam over your body, his gaze hungry. Before he could say anything, you pulled him towards the castle and to the throne room where the festivities would be held. Inside, the room was decked out with gold drapes and beautiful flowers — nothing less for a royal wedding. 

The music began as you and Aegon made your first entrance together, your arm linked to his. He had promised to not let you fall in front of the lord and ladies. The guests cheered as you both made your way down the grand aisle, to the large table where your families stood, waiting for you to begin the feast.

As the night went on, you danced and ate cake and indulged in more wine that you would allow yourself to help with the nerves later. You were dancing with Helaena and laughing when you felt an arm snake around your waist and wet lips on your neck.  

You leaned into Aegon’s chest and Helaena took this as her cue to find another dance partner. 

‘’Do you think they will notice if we leave the festivities early?’’ he whispered in your ear, having enough of this feast and wanting to be alone with you. 

You glanced around, searching for your parents. They seemed all involved in conversations with other lords and ladies, but one last pair of eyes was on you: Otto Hightower. Since he caught you kissing in an alcove when you were five and ten, he had been following you and Aegon like a hawk, disproving of your courtship.  

‘’If you can find a way to escape your grandsire, I’ll follow you,’’ you replied. 

Aegon’s laughter mixed with yours as you were running to Megor’s Holdfast where the royal chambers were. It felt like all the times you slipped away from court together to avoid being caught.  

As soon as the door of Aegon’s chambers closed, his lips were on yours and his hands were all over you, grabbing and pulling with a hunger that made your pulse race. The urgency in his movements left you breathless, your body responding instinctively to his touch. 

Clothes were taken off in haste, allowing your lips to kiss more skin. You threw your head back and moaned softly, nails sinking into Aegon's milky skin as he kissed down your neck and to your bared breasts, giving them the attention he's dreamed of. 

‘’Aegon, please,’’ you whimpered, feeling his erect cock prod at your lower stomach. 

He pressed a last kiss to your nipple and nodded, walking you back to his bed. You crawled up to the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Aegon joined you, hovering over you, and studying your flushed face for a moment, before he bent down to kiss your lips again.

You were thankful that your mother had opposed the humiliation of a bedding ceremony. You would never have been able to relax under the eyes of men standing around the bed, waiting for blood to mark the sheets. 

While you were distracted by his kiss, Aegon moved a hand between your bodies to play with your cunt a little, helping you relax and prepare you for his cock. His girth was larger than the fingers he’s inserted before and he didn’t want to hurt you. 

It would be a lie to say you didn't feel anything when he slid into you. The pain was unlike anything you felt before. Seeing the tears prick in your eyes and your pained face, Aegon was quick to sooth you with sweet words until the pain subsided. 

His first thrusts were slow and overwhelming. It was a kind of pleasure you never experienced before. 

‘’I love you, Aegon,’’ you said, seeing stars when he reached a particular spot.

He kissed you sweetly. ‘’I love you.’’ 

You hugged him tight while he moved his hips, his ears blessed by your whimpers and moans.  

A chill blew from the windows, refreshing the warm air after your entercourse. You shivered, clinging to Aegon under the sheets. He closed his eyes, ready for a night of sleep, when your voice stirred him.

‘’Can we do it again?’’ you asked in a whisper, your head resting on his chest while bathing in the afterglow.  

Aegon grinned at the ceiling, thanking the gods for giving him a wife that was just as horny as him.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron   @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist:  @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff   @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity  @Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

[munsonsmixtapes]

hello! if you have the time could you please write soft Eddie guiding a shy reader when they make out for the first time?

part two

There's a knock on Eddie's door and he hurries to answer it, hoping it's who he thinks it is. He isn't expecting anyone else, but it's not uncommon for people to show up looking to buy from him, but he really hopes it's you. He's been looking forward to tonight for over a week since you suggested it. He opens the door and there you are, beautiful as ever.

He steps aside and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you enter the trailer. You hold out a DVD and a few of Eddie's favorite snacks and he can't help but smile at how sweet you are. You've only been on a few dates and hopes he wouldn't scare you off if he proposed. Because if he's being honest, he can't see himself with anyone else.

No one he's dated has ever been so sweet to him. All they seemed to be interested in was using him for his body and rarely anything else. He wasn't really known as Eddie "the freak" Munson (well, maybe in other ways) anymore, but it still seemed like people didn't want anything else from him besides drugs or sex.

But you? All you seem to want from him is his company, genuinely interested in all of his fun facts that he has about random subjects and you even laugh at his jokes. And they aren't pity laughs either. You're a breath of fresh air and he hopes you'll stick around forever.

"You didn't have to do all this," he tells you with a smile as he takes the stuff from you. You're staring down at the floor and he can tell you're getting shy on him again. He doesn't mind, though. He thinks it's cute.

"Of course I did," you insist. "I wanted to treat you for once," you then smile and Eddie never gets tired of seeing it.

"Well I'm not going to say no to that," he responds then takes you by the hand, threading his fingers through yours. "Now c'mon."

You follow him over to the couch and the two of you sit together, but you make sure to leave a little space to be polite. You want to be cuddled up into his side, though. You want rest your head on his chest as his hand lazily runs up and down your back.

A lot of the people you've out with all seemed to be after one thing so it warms your heart that Eddie is willing to go at your pace. He always waits for you to initiate things like hugs or kisses and waits until you pull away, never asking for more. He's nothing but a gentleman and you really like spending time with him.

Eddie spreads out all of the movies you brought, his eyebrows quirking at the variety. You seem to have an eclectic taste and he admires that. He plucks the horror movie from the selection and heads over to the VCR. As soon as his back is turned, you begin to panic. You had only brought the movie to give you excuse to get close to him because of the scary scenes, but now you're beginning to regret your decision.

Eddie turns back to you and you try to hide your fear, debating on telling him that you'd rather watch something else, but you can't yourself to form the words. So you just sit in silence as Eddie moves back over to the couch, sitting even closer to you now and your fear takes over as you throw yourself into his arms.

Eddie lets out a laugh at your eagerness but he wraps his arms around you anyway, pulling you even closer to him as he turns his head towards the screen. You instantly feel better knowing that he'll keep you safe but can't help but think about what Steve told you when he rented the movie out to you.

He told you that it was the scariest movie he'd ever seen and that he couldn't sleep for days afterwards. And you rented it anyway even though he had suggested many more options that weren't nearly as scary and would still help you get into Eddie's arms despite how silly he thought the idea was.

The movie hasn't even started and you're already burying your head into his chest, gripping his shirt in your fists as tight as possible. His hand moves up to stroke the back of your head as he murmurs something to you that you can't quite hear.

"Hey, hey," he says as grabs hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. His are nothing but soft as they look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, suddenly feeling silly for how scared you just were. "It's nothing."

"We don't have to watch the movie," he tells you. "If you were scared, why didn't you say something?" It's a fair question, but you stay silent, not wanting to tell him the truth.

"I-" you start to say but cut yourself off, not wanting to admit the truth nor finding the right words to use.

"You what, honey?" He asks, his hands moving up and down your back exactly the way you wanted him to. Sometimes you're convinced he's a mind reader.

"I just wanted an excuse to cuddle you," you tell him, your voice so soft he almost didn't hear you. And at that, Eddie lets out a laugh before pulling you to his chest, giving you a tight squeeze. You have to remind yourself that he's not laughing at you, but because of you.

"You could have just cuddled me," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and it is. Well, it should be, but you've always found it hard to voice what you want no matter how badly you want it.

"How about we call off the movie for now?" He asks and turns off the TV then pulls you closer to him, his hands still moving up and down your back. You look up at him as he licks his lips, now unable to think about anything but how inviting they look.

The two of you have kissed multiple times, but it's never gone any farther than little pecks here and there because you've been too afraid to do any more than that. But now you feel the need to go all the way, wondering what he tastes like, if his hair is as soft as it looks.

But you've never made out with anyone and that scares you. Even though you know for sure that Eddie would talk you through it, the whole thing still makes you feel nervous. But apparently not nervous to forget it completely because before you can stop yourself, you're looking up at Eddie, gulping before getting his attention.

"Eddie?" You ask and his head turns to you, those honey eyes boring into yours. You melt under his gaze but trying to muster up the confidence again.

"Hm?" He asks, that stupid smirk making its way upon his face, the same one that's always there when he looks at you.

"Can-" you cut yourself off for the second time tonight but Eddie just sits there, patient as ever as he waits for you to speak. He knows how hard it can get sometimes for you to speak your mind so he doesn't mind waiting for you to finish your thoughts. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Of course you can," he responds, taking your face in his hands and pecking your lips once, twice, three times before pulling away only for you to grumble in response.

"No," you shake your head. "I want a real kiss."

"Oh," he replies, wondering what made you decide on that, but wanting to oblige. He's willing to give you whatever you ask.

His hands move down to neck, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your jaw as he leans in again, his lips slowly capturing yours as they move together slowly. He's nothing but gentle as he kisses you, showing you how it's done.

Your hands press against his chest and all you can think about how you can't believe you've gone so long without his lips attached to yours. They're nothing but soft and gentle and now you're sure that you can do this for hours.

Eddie breaks away before you're ready and you're breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. He stares down, a chuckle falling from his lips as he presses his forehead to yours.

"You're supposed breathe, baby," he tells you softly and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Can we try that again?" You ask as you pick up one of his curls, twirling it around your pointer finger, staring down at it as you speak again. "Do you think we could...make out? I promise to breathe this time."

"Oh, honey," he sighs before pressing a kiss to you lips. "I'd love to make out with you." Another and another until he's capturing your lips again, taking the lead again. You have no idea what you're doing but Eddie is being nothing but a sweetheart as he guides you through it.

He pulls away again and you whine this time at the absence of his lips, chasing him and getting in another quick kiss before you sit back, waiting for him.

"Do you want to sit in my lap?" He suggests. "I think that'll be more comfortable for you."

Eddie sits with his back against the couch and you do as he suggests and straddle his waist which feels foreign to you but he's right. It's much more comfortable. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest on the small of your back, a good spot between your waist and upper back because this is just kissing and he doesn't want to give you the impression that he's going to go any farther.

"You kiss me now," he says and your heart races in your chest as you think about fucking it all up.

"Are you sure?" You ask, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you contemplate.

"Positive," he nods. "You've got this. Do whatever you want, baby. This is all about you."

"Okay," you nod, leaning forward and slotting your lips just like he did, Eddie immediately responding to you but he's moving at your pace instead of leading like he previously had.

You remember to breath through your nose as your fingers thread into his hair on each side of his head. His hair is normally off limits because people get too rough with it, but with you, he doesn't care. In fact, he loves when you play with his hair, a little bit of love sprinkles into every touch of it.

"You're doing so good, honey," he murmurs against your lips. "Do you want to try sticking your tongue in my mouth?"

"Please," you whine with a yank of his hair and if you can feel his cock hardening underneath you, you don't say anything. And thank god for that.

"Do you want me to show you first?"

"Yes," you breath against his lips and he's getting even more hard, knowing that he's going to have to get himself off later because there's no way he's going to expect you to go all the way right now.

Eddie captures your lips again as his hands rest against your waist, landing on the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. His lips are moving against you to warm you up and then he gingerly flicks his tongue against your bottom lip.

"Open up," he commands against your lips and you do as he says, opening up for him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. He swirls his tongue around yours and you mimic his actions, tugging on his hair as a moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue moving with yours.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but pull away as you suddenly feel embarrassed at the sound you've just made. Eddie, though? Eddie's convinced that's the hottest thing he's ever heard and he really wants you to make it again.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says quickly, trying his best to assure you. "It was really hot, actually."

"It was?"

"Definitely," he nods. "Would it help if you made me moan too?" All you can do is nod and before he can say anything else, your lips are on his, only a few seconds passing before your tongue is flicking against his bottom lip. He opens up immediately and you mimic what he just showed you, your tongue swirling around his as you pulling on his hair even harder, a loud moan falling from his lips.

You haven't thought about it until now since you were so caught up in his kisses, but you're soaking wet between your legs and if you had more confidence, you'd ask Eddie to take care of you, but you don't so you don't. You don't think you're ready for that right now anyway.

You try to focus on the taste of him to get your mind off of it. He tastes like cigarettes that you know he smoked before you came over and you don't know why but you can't get enough of it. It's intoxicating.

You stay like that for a while until your lips are kiss bitten and your legs are asleep from you straddling him for too long. You both decide to call it a night and Eddie walks you to your car like the gentleman he is, kissing you one more time before you drive away. He then goes back inside and heads to his room where he collapses onto his bed, deciding that he's probably (definitely) in love with you.

[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. GOJŌ SATORU┊ "Doesn't the idea of not wearing panties in front of strangers turn you on?" he plans the seed.

tags. (18+), husband gojo, he hm smells your panties and other things (he loves you believe me), lowkey (highly) exhibitionism, reader with female anatomy (she/her pronouns).

You check Satoru a second time, only to realize that your eyes weren't deceiving you and that he really was smiling at nothing, his long fingers clapping the steering wheel every now and then to the rhythm of the song playing in the background on the radio and the third time your eyes land on him your back stiffens, with the seat belt still hugging your body you turn to see him, though the pressure of the belt doesn't allow you to move freely.

"Why are you smiling?" you ask, mimicking the same smile, like a mirror.

"I can't smile when looking at my beautiful wife?" Wife. Ever since you got married Satoru hadn't stopped calling you that, and even though you liked it and it always made you feel warm inside....

You obviously don't believe him. Not this time. The smile you still possessed paired with a furrowed brow, examining him in a way that would help you verify if he was telling the truth or not.   

You didn't believe him one bit. "What are you planning?" you insist again, still admiring his profile, Satoru hadn't bothered to look at you, busy not missing a green light.

"Remember the other day when we were playing uno and I won..." ... okay?

"You cheated," you reproach almost immediately, crossing your arms. You had the same posture as that night when you caught him with four cards hidden inside the joggers. 

"Whatever you want to believe, baby, I did not." You click your tongue and roll your eyes going back to your initial stance, you weren't going to argue with him again, that day you only let him win because Nanami and Geto decided not to fight and let him win.

"Whatever," you say. Fixing your eyes on the road you realize that you were a few corners away from reaching the restaurant.

"Anyway..." Out of the corner of your eye you notice the lopsided grin adorning his face. "It's time to pay."

"What do you want? For me to admit I'm a sore loser?" You turn your attention back to him, his finger with the gold wedding ring gleaming under the streetlights.

"I want your panties," he commands, claiming his prize (prize he won by cheating, you want to emphasize).

You blink, trying to verify that you just heard what you think you just heard. "What. No."

"A deal is a deal..."

"You cheated!" you accuse him again, and satoru's lopsided grin turns into a full-on grin showing you his fangs. "You're going to pay for this."

Satoru parks a few feet outside the fancy restaurant, the colors of the restaurant inside splashing all the way outside. Only when the car's engine dies does he tilt his body to look at you, you see determination and temptation in his face, those blue eyes are bathed from the street lights and the darkness inside the car, bringing you the details of his incomplete features.

"Doesn't the idea of not wearing panties in front of strangers turn you on?" he plans the seed. "In front of Suguru, in front of Kento..." satoru adds. "Because it turns me on a lot to know that only I know that you have a naked pussy, probably dripping on the chair."

You stand still for a moment, processing everything he just said as the birth of a smile stretches his lips slowly and an uncomfortable warmth creeps from your chest, face and ends in the form of a rush in your pussy.

You curse yourself because you can feel how the idea makes you wet.

Satoru laughs at your reaction knowing he has won, he stretches out his hand waiting for his prize.

You curse again, now out loud. You lift your ass off the leather seat to help you slide your underwear off with ease, you slide them down your legs and embarrassedly hand them into his hands, by which time Satoru was forcing a wicked smile to disappear.

Without any hesitation he brings them to his nose, inhaling until his lungs remember the scent of your pussy. Then he pushes them into the pockets of his pants. You stand there, still at the scene. It's not the first time he did it, but you were forced to check the street to verify that no one else had seen what had just happened.

"You're so fucking hot, you know that, don't you?" he looks down your body, focusing especially on your thighs. "I love the way that dress looks on you, I knew it was made for you as soon as I saw it."

Within seconds Satoru leaves his seat and walks across the short walk to your door, opening it for you. You realize he planned this all along. The dinner, the dress he bought especially for you (that barely comes down across your thighs and if you're not careful you might show your pussy)....

Satoru reaches out and feigning indignation you take it, stepping out of the car as you arrange your dress down, the fresh breeze caresses your slit and hits your clit. Satoru squeezes your hand, the coolness of the ring sending shivers down your back, into your abdomen.

"It's going to be a fun night," Satoru says.

[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 A

-> Option A: "I'm not ready to be a mom"

You can read Part 1 here

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: Reader has an abortion Option B: Reader decides to have the baby(s)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Light angst with a happy end. 2K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader has a surgical abortion. Everything goes well. Sukuna takes good care of Reader. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

Finding out that you accidentally got knocked up by your college sweetheart was definitely a shock. And it didn't end there because now you are faced with having to make a decision that has the potential to change your life forever.

You sleep a night over it and spend the next day going on a long walk with Sukuna, hoping the fresh air will help you clear your mind. It's when you sit down on a park bench and lean against Sukuna's biceps when you ask softly,

"So what are we going to do, Kuna?"

And Sukuna wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side,

"It's your choice, princess. I will be there for you no matter what. I'm man enough to handle both. And ultimately, it's your body, so you should be the one who makes the decision."

It makes you love him even more.

Sukuna is usually a very dominant person, someone who likes to be in control. Seeing him hold back and give you the reins fills you with deep affection.

You have contemplated both options, glad that Sukuna made it clear that he won't run even if you want to have the baby. But in the end, there is one option that feels more right for you at this point in your life.

When you tell Sukuna that you want to terminate the pregnancy, he doesn't comment on whether this is what he would have decided or not but just pulls you into his strong arms and hugs you, tells you again that he will drive you to the hospital and be there for you all the way.

You practically melt into the comfort of his strong arms as you add softly,

"It's not that I don't want a baby with you, Kuna. You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you. I just think we are too young. I am too young. I don't want the stress of having to be a mom while I still go to college and have to study for exams and try to find a good job, etc. It already seems so much, and when I imagine also having to take care of a little baby, I don't think I can manage all of it, even with you by my side."

Sukuna smiles at you, not one of his smug smirks or flirty boyish grins, but a genuine smile, soft and tender, a smile that is only reserved for you.

"I know, princess. Don't worry your pretty head about this."

Sukuna is with you throughout the whole journey. He drives you to your doctor and insists on going up to the waiting room with you because he knows how nervous you are. He sits next to you, holds your hand, caresses your fingers soothingly, and grins reassuringly at you. He makes a flirty comment and winks at you when your name gets called, trying his best to make you laugh and feel less nervous.

But you know that he is nervous too. When you get back twenty minutes later, you can see that Sukuna is still on the same page of the book he started to read when you left. His mind obviously occupied with other things, just as affected by the situation as you are.

It makes you reach out and hug him tightly, comforting him just like he comforts you, even though he would never admit openly that this makes him anxious just as much as you.

"My doctor already made an appointment at the clinic for me to have another examination and to sign all the documents and stuff. But it's when you have training, so you really don't have to come with me."

But Sukuna rolls his eyes and shakes his head,

"What are you saying? Stop it, baby. Of course, I am coming with you. If I can put my dick in you, I can also accompany you to your appointment. After all, it's my apparently super-fertile sperm that got you into that situation in the first place! I'll skip training. It's not important. Nothing is as important as you are to me."

The next four days feel weird. You go to the examination at the clinic. You listen to the doctor explaining the procedure to you. You nod, you smile politely, and you sign several documents before you get sent halfway through the hospital to meet an anesthetic and sign more papers. They send you home with a sheet full of instructions on what to do before and after the surgery.

You spend the days until the surgery in a daze. Everything feels unreal.

But you aren't alone. Sukuna doesn't leave your side. It's almost funny how he follows you around like a puppy. The big bad boy, all sweet and doting.

On the day of the abortion Sukuna drives you to the hospital. He walks with you to the unit where the surgery will take place, and his large hand squeezes your smaller one so tightly it almost hurts.

You can see and feel how reluctant he is to let go of you and how worried he is about you, even though he tries to hide it and play it cool so as not to make you more anxious than you already are. But his hug is even tighter than usual, almost bone-crushing the way his strong arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against his tall, muscular body.

He kisses you, too deep and with too much tongue for the location, but you tilt your head to let him push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, craving his kiss and his love and the reassurance he gives you that way.

You leave towards the room where you are supposed to change, looking back over your shoulder one last time and Sukuna is still standing there in the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking so cool with his tattoos and the pink hair. But you can see the tenseness in his broad shoulders and the worry on his tattooed face.

It makes your chest feel warm, and you can't help but mouth "I love you" in his direction, smiling when you see him say the words too.

Your surgery goes by without any complications, and the moment you wake up, a nurse is already by your side, bringing you tea and something to eat, and some painkillers. But you are impatient, wanting nothing more than to leave and be in Sukuna's comforting embrace, feel the warmth of his body and inhale his scent and hear his velvety low voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

You're glad when you are finally allowed to get up and get dressed again, promising the nurse that you have someone who will stay with you for the next 24 hours.

When you leave the changing room, you see Sukuna leaning against the wall right next to the reception. His tattooed face is a bit pale, and he is playing nervously with his tongue piercing once again.

His maroon eyes meet yours, and he is by your side in a second, a strong arm wrapping around your waist and carefully pulling you against his side, steadying you, holding you securely, making sure you won't fall. His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a long moment, warm and soft,

"Fuck. I'm glad you're finally out of there."

You can hear the strain in his low voice, can hear every ounce of worry and anxiety he felt during the last hours when he was sitting in his room, waiting for the hospital to call him and tell him, you are ok.

You lean gratefully against him, feeling a bit dizzy from the anesthetics, glad that you have your strong boyfriend to hold you.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sukuna."

"How are you, princess?"

"I'm good. Just a bit wobbly on my feet. And I need something to eat. I'm starving!"

And Sukuna laughs softly, sounding so relieved,

"Well, how lucky you are that your boyfriend spent the last few hours in the kitchen to distract himself and prepare your favorite dishes for you."

And suddenly, your sight becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks without you even knowing why you suddenly start crying now that it's over when, in the days leading up to the abortion, you didn't shed a single tear!

But maybe all the stress and anxiety of the last few days finally caught up with you. The contradictory emotions of feeling a bit wistful about letting go of that fantasy of Sukuna and you having your own little family versus the relief you feel that it's over and that you can live your life the way you planned.

But you suspect that, most of all, it is the overwhelming love you feel for Sukuna right at that moment. You are so touched by how caring he is. How mature he was in this situation. That he didn't run, that he didn't leave you to deal with all of this on your own. He is so worried about you and does so much to make you feel okay. He is so strong all the time, so you have someone to lean on.

A sniffle escapes your trembling lips, and Sukuna's eyes widen. He pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair and murmuring soothingly to you,

"Hey, baby, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok. Don't cry."

Your hands are on Sukuna's broad chest, and you feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through the soft hoodie he is wearing, comforting and reassuring.

"I'm ok, Kuna, I swear. It's just... I love you so much."

"I love you too."

His voice sounds tender when he says the words, and you snuggle closer to him, lifting your head to look at his beautiful tattooed face. And Sukuna leans down a bit, enough so he can brush his lips over yours.

That's how you end up standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, hugging your boyfriend and kissing him slowly as if the two of you are the only people in this world.

But you make it to the parking lot a few minutes later, walking there with the help of Sukuna's strong arm wrapped around you.

Sukuna is so gentle, so caring. He helps you into the car and puts on your seat belt for you as if you can't do it yourself. He stops at a convenience store to get some pads for you, jogging back to the car as if he is running from a crime scene because he is worried about letting you out of his sight even for a few minutes.

He helps you out of the car again, once you have reached your apartment, picks you up princess-style and carries you up the stairs. He sits you down on the couch, wraps you in a warm blanket and glares at you when you try to get up.

"Don't be a brat! Just stay right here and rest and let me bring you the meal I cooked for you with all my fucking love!"

He brings you the food and plops down next to you, checking if you really eat something, like some super stern nurse, and you can't help but feel warm, knowing that your bad boy is so amazingly sweet and caring when it comes to you.

The moment your face twists in pain, Sukuna is on his knees in front of you, fear in his maroon eyes, his large hands on your thighs, looking up at you with worry written all over his tattooed face.

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth and smile shakily at him, reaching out to cup his cheek and caress it tenderly, touched by how worried he is for you.

"It's nothing bad, Kuna. They told me I would get cramps after the surgery. It's perfectly normal! But it feels like really bad period cramps. They gave me some painkillers for that. Can you..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna is on his feet again, already walking over to your bag,

"I'll get them for you!"

You thank him, and he sits down next to you again, watching you the whole time with narrowed maroon eyes until you chuckle and reach over to ruffle his pink hair,

"I won't drop dead if you stop looking at me for one second, you know, baby? Eat something, too, I know you are hungry!"

"Don't joke about stuff like that, princess. I am just taking my job as your personal nurse seriously."

And he really does. For the next few days, Sukuna barely leaves your side. And even a week later, he is still acting differently around you, and you begin to realize that this is probably how he will always be now. Even more protective. Even more caring.

The unplanned pregnancy and the abortion didn't drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, it made the two of you grow even closer. You shared a life-altering experience. Because even though you decided not to have the baby, it still will be something you will always carry with you. And you will never forget how Sukuna reacted. How he was there for you. How he respected your decision and how he cared for you.

You learned that Sukuna is more than just the sexy bad boy you can have fun with. He showed you that you can always count on him, that he won't run when real problems occur. You learned that if one day in the future you actually want to have a baby, you have a wonderful man by your side who would be a loving partner and a damn good dad.

You sigh happily as you lie in your bed with Sukuna behind you. He has become more cuddly since accidentally knocking you up. He wants to spend every night at your apartment or asks you to stay at his. As if he needs to hold you every night, keeping you safe and sound, wrapped in his strong arms, his buff body pressing against your back, and his lips trailing lazy kisses over your neck.

The two of you are living your regular lives again, going to classes, studying, going to training, to parties. No one else knows what happened to you. It's a secret between you and Sukuna because you both want it that way. No one else has to know. This is just something the two of you share.

A commercial for baby food starts playing in between two episodes of the crime show you are watching. A young family, mom and dad, and a tiny baby. And even though it's been weeks, it still makes you feel a bit weird to see it.

Sukuna's arm tightens around you. Maybe he felt you tense up, or maybe he had the same thoughts as you when seeing the commercial. Either way, his hand slips down to your belly, caressing it gently, and there's a smile in his low voice when he says,

"You know, it's not the end of it, princess, right? We can still have one.... when we are older. If we want."

You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. Your hand lands on top of his larger one, which is resting on your belly now, and you interlace your fingers with his, feeling the weird tension leave your body again.

"If I ever want to have a baby, it will definitely be with you, Sukuna."

I LOVE HIM 💗😭

Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1!! The story wouldn't leave my mind anymore, and after I got several comments and asks where people asked about a possible Part 2, I wanted to continue the story about College sweetheart Sukuna knocking us up and show how Reader and Sukuna deal with both options, so I decided to write two different versions.

I hope you liked Option A and that it could give you comfort.

Option B will be the version where Reader decides to have the baby (or rather babies lol). I plan to post it next week!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

You can find Option B here

[suguella]

LESSON IN PRIVATE ꒰ ft satoru gojo ꒱

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : gojo, a fuck boy, insists on getting you to go to a party but since you’ve been failing classes, he offers to help you.

꒰ CONTENT WARNING ꒱ : explicit content, friends with benefits trope, porn with (?) a plot, p in v, fuckboy!gojo, foul language, cunningulus, oral (m + f), nipple play, degrading, and reader is a female.

꒰ AUTHORS NOTE ꒱ : bro this has been in my drafts for so fucking long, enjoy ;) @screampied 🤍.

gojo : party in 2 hours, get ready :)

you : can't, gotta revise.

you were failing classes. that was a big problem and you had one person to blame; Gojo. he always managed to convince you to go to parties with him and, surprisingly, you would always say yes — but that was only because you had a thing for him.

gojo : im coming over

you : well im not opening the door for you

gojo : you’re going to do that to your best friend?

you sigh, staring at your notes. you thought to yourself, should i just fuck it and go? gojo was annoying, so a simple no wouldn’t stop him from dragging you out your house. but then again you were failing.

gojo : im outside, open the door.

you open to see to see a very tall white-haired man smirking at you, “no hi? hello?” you rolled your eyes as he chuckle. you invite him inside before breaking it to him “toru, i need to revise. sorry, but you’re on your own for this one”

“i can help you revise.” he said and you busted out laughing, "not to be blunt and all, but you're just a fuck boy"

gojo smirked, "we'll see about that," and you accepted his offer.

you were on your bed with your legs wide open, gojos face buried in your pussy. He slips your hand between your legs and made you rub your swollen clit. “come y/n you’re almost there.”

he inserts 2 fingers in, pumping vigorously while his other hand pulled on your nipples.

“come on y/n.” you didn’t know the answer only because the pleasure was taking away your concentration.

“fuck toru, i don’t know” he sucks on your pussy lips causing you to tug on his hair. “that’s not the answer baby, try again.”

he sucks on to your clit making an O shape causing your eyes roll back. “t-toru, is it a class of sugars that cannot be hydrolyzed to give a simpler sugar?”

he smirked at you, “good girl but fuck this, i need to be inside you” gojo toke off his boxer, his dick springing out.

“you’re too big” he runs his dick along your folds “sh baby, you can take it.” He holds onto your hips, nails digging into your poor skin as he plunges himself in.

the sound of skin slapping was the second noise compared to hearing you moaning his name.

he watched, seeing you play your erect nipples. you felt his cock twitch and thicken against the hug of your walls, “toru, fuck” your eyes glisten with tears as he stretches you out.

“you can do this y/n” he says as he rocks your body causing you to whimper. with each thrust came a moan, your nails scrape his lower back. he hissed, “careful babe”

you tilt your head back, searching for gojos lips. he reciprocated by grabbing your throat with his free hand and tugs at your top lip with his teeth.

you’re almost there and gojo was too, you both finish, still holding on to each other. he didn’t want to let go of you, at least not yet.

he’d be lying if he said he never wished for this.

[steveseddie]

apply directly to the forehead

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: alone | rating: t | wc: 997 | tags: hurt comfort, steve has migraines, eddie takes care of him, hand holding, forehead kisses read on ao3

No one notices when Steve slips out the front door. No one but Eddie, who tells Jonathan he’s going out for a smoke and follows him.

There are only woods around the Hopper-Byers cabin, and the only light comes from the Christmas lights hanging from the roof so it takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the near darkness. He sees Steve sitting on the steps with his head between his knees and taking slow, deep breaths. 

“Steve?” Eddie speaks softly, trying not to startle him but Steve still flinches. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Steve mumbles, keeping his head down. 

Eddie sits next to him. “Wanna try again? That wasn’t very convincing.”

Steve groans but it’s not his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan, it’s a pained groan. 

“‘S just a headache, ‘m fine,” Steve insists but his voice sounds weak. 

“Look at me.” Eddie squeezes his knee. “Stevie, please, look at me.” 

Steve sighs but lifts his head. Eddie can’t help but wince at how he looks. His face is twisted into a grimace, his skin is paper-white and there are tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, Steve. It’s a migraine, isn’t it? A bad one?” He gently brushes some hair off Steve’s face. Steve gives a tiny nod. “When did it start?” 

“A few hours ago,” Steve says with a shuddery breath. “While shopping with Robin, all the lights, the music and the crowds–”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Didn’t want to worry anyone.” 

“Of course not.” That’s why Steve still showed up to the Hopper-Byers Christmas party, knowing there would be loud music and even louder kids, and then forced himself to smile through his pain. Eddie sighs. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.” 

“No, Eds–” Steve protests weakly. “I can drive myself-”

Eddie huffs. “Steve, you can’t even keep your eyes open right now.”

“But the party–”

“–will carry on without us,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes. “Wait here, okay?” 

Steve sighs and nods, and Eddie squeezes his knee again before heading back inside. 

He finds Robin and tells her that Steve isn’t feeling well and he’s taking him home. 

“Do you want me to come?” She asks, worried.

“Nah, I got him,” Eddie says. Steve wouldn’t want someone else to leave the party early because of him. “Just tell Hopper I’ll pick up the van tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks, Eddie,” she says with a quick hug. 

Outside, Eddie finds Steve leaning against the railing, looking like he’s about to keel over. 

“Alright, big boy. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading them to the Beemer.

“No van?” 

“Nope. You complain about how fucking loud my van is on a good day. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate it today of all days.”

Steve chuckles weakly. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to drive a cool car for once.” 

Eddie scoffs indignantly. “My van is plenty cool, Harrington.” 

“Uh huh.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Steve and starts the car. The drive to his house is quiet. Eddie turns the radio all the way off, Steve keeps his head against the window and his eyes closed, and Eddie tries his best not to jostle the car too much. 

He has to gently shake Steve’s shoulder once they arrive and then he follows him inside. 

He goes straight to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, taking his shoes off but leaving his jeans and his ugly Christmas sweater on. 

Eddie finds some sleeping clothes and tosses them his way. “Take those jeans off, Harrington.”

Steve huffs. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson,” he says, his hands working on his belt buckle. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink but with just the moonlight illuminating the room through the curtains, he doubts Steve can see it. “So that’s what it takes to get into Steve Harrington’s pants?”

“Usually,” Steve says, shoving his jeans off before sliding on sweatpants, keeping his movements slow to not make his headache worse. “But for a guy as hot as you, I can make an exception.”

Eddie chokes on his spit. Leave it to Steve to flirt while his head is waging a war against the rest of him.  

After changing out of his Christmas sweater, Steve falls back into bed, burrowing his face into his pillow with a groan. The mattress dips when Eddie sits next to him, his back against the headboard. Steve blinks one eye open. “You don’t have to stay, I’m–”

“-in no condition to be alone right now,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes.

“You should go back to the party. I didn’t mean to ruin your night–”

“Steve Harrington called me hot. Nothing could ruin my night after that,” he jokes even if there’s some truth to it. 

Steve groans– this time it is his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan. “I’m gonna regret saying that.” 

“Because you didn’t mean it or–”

“Oh, I meant it,” Steve says, rolling to his side and looking up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes that might not have anything to do with his migraine. “But now you can hold it against me.”

“It would be kind of hypocritical of me since I also find you hot,” Eddie says, playing with a rip in his jeans. 

Steve’s fingers find his, intertwining them. “If my head wasn’t about to explode I would suggest we do something about that.”

Eddie’s widen. “Something like–”

“Like kissing. Though I could be persuaded to do other things.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says laughing shakily. “Now my head feels like it might explode.”

“We can talk in the morning,” Steve says, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. 

“Thought you didn’t want me to stay,” Eddie teases.

“Said you didn’t have to stay, Eds. I always want you here.” 

Eddie’s stomach flutters. “Okay,” he says, sliding down until he’s lying next to Steve, their fingers still intertwined. 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve whispers, half asleep already. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, kissing Steve’s forehead. “Anytime.”

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[traveler-at-heart]

You're ok

Summary: As you recover from a life threatening mission, Natasha struggles to be vulnerable.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Edit: The last part is a scene from The Diplomat's season 2. Highly recommend the show, as it also has our lovely Ali Ahn ( AKA Alice Wu)

Death is part of the job. You had always been prepared for it.

Failure and a slow recovery were things that you were less inclined to accept.

It was hard to deal with the fact you had been ambushed, and almost killed by a bomb in what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Two weeks after being confined to the sterile hospital walls you’re back at the Compound. Bucky offered to help, carrying your things and lending his arm as support.

You certainly didn’t expect the rest of the Avengers on the foyer, excited to greet you.

“Don’t make a fuss” you say, letting them hug you. Wanda rolls her eyes, taking your bag.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive. We’re gonna make a fuss”

“Just for today, let us make a big deal out of this” Steve says.

You had seen all of your teammates when they visited at the hospital, with one notable exception.

Said exception walks through the door, the hint of a smile on her beautiful face as your eyes meet green ones.

“Welcome back” Natasha says, her tone gentle.

“Thank you”

“Romanoff might like you, she almost smiled” Tony says, but you don’t pay him attention.

“That’s just because I thought you weren’t here” Natasha walks past him, squeezing your good arm as a silent goodbye. How you wish you could follow after her, ask why she didn’t even stop by once, but she’s hurrying out the room in record time, as if she can sense your intentions.

Truthfully, you won’t act on them. Natasha doesn’t owe you anything, not even a get well card.

“Let’s get you settled in your new room” Tony becons, and you frown.

“New room? What happened to the old one?”

“This one has some improvements. You’re gonna love it”

It’s evident he still feels guilty over what happened, though it was definitely not his fault that you almost got killed.

The new room has a mini fridge, a giant tv, a king size bed, and a small couch. It also has a huge bathtub, as well as an incredible view of the forest behind the Compound.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… I’m perfectly fine going back to my old room”

“Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?” Sam intervenes, looking around the space.

“Come on, you’re gonna be using crutches for a while. You need a bigger space. And entertainment”

“It’s true” Steve says. “Of course we all want to be optimistic but…”

The doctors had said it would take at least six weeks to get you walking without aid. And then, you’d have to train and get back in shape. You are looking at two or three months of recovery.

It’s not that you dislike the bigger space or amenities. It’s the fact that Natasha was closer to you in the other room, and so you’d meet her most mornings as you’d step out to hit the gym or make breakfast.

Now, not only is she emotionally distant, she’s also physically away. And you don’t know which is worse.

“I’ll give it a try” you promise, though you know nothing will be better than your old room.

—

There are unexpected challenges that come with your injuries. Like cooking breakfast. Wanda is more than happy to help most days, but she’s been out for a mission the past week. You could have stuck to cereal, except Steve is always around by the time you wake up, and he insists on making your breakfast.

It’s a nice gesture, though the food is horrible.

You’ve spent the better part of your morning  playing with your eggs, considering eating cereal again, when someone places a cup of coffee and a paper bag next to you.

“I don’t know who told Steve he could cook” Natasha says with a smile.

“He means well” you answer, and wait for her to nod towards the bag to inspect its contents. Grilled cheese and a scone. Your mouth waters at the smell.

“You’re amazing, Natasha, honestly” you say between bites, moaning at the taste. “I can’t remember the last time I ate something this good. Except Wanda’s food, of course”

“Enjoy” she says, taking away the plate with eggs for you.

You were hoping to have her company while you eat, but maybe that’s too much to hope for.

—

At last, there’s something you can do. While everyone is busy with missions, you focus on reports and intelligence, which is perfect, because all you have to do is sit and read.

There are still deadlines and though no one wants to put pressure on you, you make sure nothing is delayed. As you keep reading in one of the conference rooms, the door is pushed open and you look up, alarmed at the sudden intrusion.

“Yes?” you say, pushing your glasses up, staring at Natasha. She turns around, struggling to speak.

“Y-you should be resting”

“I’m doing Bucky’s reports. You know how he is, he can’t type anything in the computer”

“It’s close to midnight. Have you even had dinner yet? I’m sure he won’t mind if you do them later”

“Nat. It’s fine, honestly” you say, smiling at her awkwardness. “I like to feel useful”

She nods, looking around the room, as if weighting her options. Moving away from the door, she walks and sits next to you, checking out some of the paperwork you’re reviewing

“Someone should have really taught James how to type” she mutters when she gets to the part where Bucky wrote target pulled out a cock instead of Glock.

You snort out a laugh, because it’s the dumbest fucking thing in the world.

“Ten bucks if you leave it like that” she insists and you shake your head.

“I considered it but then Tony wouldn’t know when to stop the teasing”

“Fair” she tilts her head, still smiling at you.

It’s obvious now that Natasha’s staying to make sure you go back to rest soon. So you enjoy the silence that comes with her presence, thinking this might be a step in the right direction.

But then, you stretch your arms above your head, forgetting about the stitches in your side until you feel a pull.

“Fuck” you bend over in pain, and Natasha is by your side in an instant. “It’s ok. I just stretched too hard. Forgot I still have a hole on my side”

Natasha’s hands hold on to the edge of the table, as if she’s struggling between storming out and staying.

“You should get some rest now” she manages to say, eyes not meeting your own.

“I’m fine”

Natasha gets ready to argue, but then reconsiders and just nods.

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight”

The redhead leaves the room in a hurry, and you wonder what could have possibly made her so upset.

For the next few days, you don’t see Natasha at all, and a part of you is certain she’s avoiding you.

As you lay in bed, watching a movie with Wanda, you keep going back to your interaction. Did you say something offensive? Was she simply too repulsed by weakness and didn’t know how to deal with it?

Is she avoiding me? Am I overthinking?

“She is and you are” Wanda says, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“But why… now wait a minute” you click your tongue, looking at your friend.

“I didn’t mean to, your thoughts are so loud. And so are Natasha’s. When you came back she was having a screaming match inside her head”

“What do you mean? What was she thinking?”

“No, that’s where I draw the line. If you want to know, ask her”

“If I ever see her again, sure” you mutter, though you know you lack the confidence to confront Natasha. Even if you had the chance, what’s there to say? "Hey, why are you making sure we only see each other when strictly necessary?"

She doesn’t like you, that’s the only explanation. Natasha is just being polite to keep appearances and the screaming inside her head was probably her thinking how much she wished you were still at the hospital.

Wanda snorts next to you, making you glare.

“Outta my head”

“Hey, I’m trying to watch the movie. You’re the one that needs to keep it quiet up there”

A few days later and you still have no idea how to approach Natasha. Mind you, she’s only been around the kitchen to get coffee once or twice, spending the rest of her time in missions or at the gym across the Compound.

The only time you’re not thinking about her is when the physical pain is distracting you. Like now, while changing your bandages. The doctors told you to get someone to help, but you already get help with food, laundry, even changing your god damn sheets. You’ll be damned if you ask for help with this.

“Fuckfuckfuck” you clearly did something wrong because the dressing is stuck around the edges. You pull again, but the pain is too much, so you plop down in bed. There’s a knock at the door, and you groan, which will hopefully make whoever’s on the other side go away.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Natasha says, rushing to your side.

“Can’t change my bandages” you say, not caring if your incompetence upsets her.

“Can I look?”

You nod, sitting up so she can see for herself the mess you’re in. Her hands are surprisingly soft and tender, and you’re almost dozing off while Natasha works silently.

Except when there’s a tug and you jump back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’ll be just one painful pull, ok?” the woman says, one of her hands going to your cheek. Your eyes meet and the way she’s looking at you almost makes the pain go away.

“Ok” you nod. Natasha takes it off in a swift movement, and all you can do is take a sharp breath as your skin stings. “Fuck me” you say through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it that much with the state you’re in” she jokes, which makes you smile.

“You know what I mean”

“Just teasing”

“You’re certainly good”

Natasha keeps working in silence, and you worry you may have crossed a line. When she’s done, she picks up the trash and goes to throw it away.

“Ask for help next time”

“I need help for everything. I wanted to at least do something on my own without being a burden”

“You’re not a burden” she says, her back to you as she washes her hands on the sink.

Something comes over you, and when Natasha walks by your side to exit the room, your hand shoots up to hold her wrist.

“Y/N?”

“I… I missed you. I know we’re colleagues and all I do is share whatever meal I’m having, or train with you from time to time. I know I can’t really do any of those things right now. I’m inconsequential, I know, to your life and to whatever you do. But I do miss you, Natasha. And I wish I didn’t care so much”

It feels like her skin is burning under your fingers, so you let go, ashamed at your little outburst. You’re expecting her to leave without another word but instead, she kneels to meet your eyes.

“You’re the opposite of inconsequential. But I don’t know how to care without being vulnerable”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Caring is vulnerability” you say softly. “But it’s also a strenght. It means you’re not alone”

Natasha smiles, a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. She’s about to say something else when FRIDAY calls for her at the conference room.

At this hour, it only means one thing. She stands up, looking apologetic.

“Be careful” is all you can say as she leaves the room.

—

A party is the last thing you’re in the mood for. Not only are you still wearing a cane (an improvement from the crutches) but Natasha has been gone for several days to complete a mission only a handful of people know about.

It makes you anxious, to think she might be in danger, though she is the most capable agent in the entire world.

“So glad you made it” Tony says when you finally show up. It took some convincing on Wanda’s part, but you agreed once you found an outfit that didn’t require you to wear heels.

The Avengers are at their own couch, talking and laughing. Bucky has apointed himself as your personal waiter, bringing snacks and drinks.

“Any word on Nat?” Stark asks, which distracts you from the conversation with Sam.

“Said she was still stuck at the debriefing” Steve shrugs his shoulders. It’s no surprise, if she can avoid these parties, Natasha will.

At least she’s home and safe. That brings you some peace of mind, and you’re able to enjoy the rest of the party.

Tony announces the fireworks are about to start, and you relunctantly stand next to the huge crowd assembled at the front yard of the Compound.

The first burts of color is followed by a couple of cheers.

But it’s different for you.

The booming sound, the lights, it all sets you on edge.

You’ve been around explosions before, and this had never happened. Frozen in place, you try to close your eyes and control your breathing as the noises increase your anxiety.

How you wish you could run back to your room right now, but it’s nearly impossible to walk between everyone.

“It’s ok” a voice says, and there’s the warmth of another body next to yours. “You’re ok”

“Nat” you sigh with relief, closing your eyes. Another firework explodes and you jump.

“Look at me” she says, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing motion. You nod, turning your body so she can wrap both arms around your waist. “Breathe with me”

You follow her lead, in and out, until your heartbeat is steady again.

“You’re ok” she says, this time more of a reminder to herself. “And I’m here”

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, letting her decide if she wants to take that final step. Natasha smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as her lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

“I missed you too” she says when you break apart.

“I’m not going anywhere”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Jason Todd trying to get his s/o's attention because they're, for some reason, being a little less affectionate?

Jason would assume that something was wrong the moment you stopped being as affectionate as before and becoming concerned.

He would even ask the likes of Roy or Dick if he had said something about him not likening you being affectionate, only for the pair that he didn’t because all Jason ever did was say how much he loved you being affectionate with him, and going so far to say he craved it after getting use to it after a couple months of dating. So that was out of the question as Jason was back to thinking what could’ve possibly made you less affectionate towards him.

He wouldn’t push you to tell him if you weren’t ready to talk about it yet but would show that he was always nearby should you ever feel like you could, whether it’s a reassuring hand on your shoulder or just standing near you in silence as he read his book on the couch, reassuring you without words.

Jason would make up for your lack of affection by being affectionate himself as he would hug you from behind, resting his head atop your own or on your shoulder, as he watched what you were doing while giving you the occasional kiss to your cheek and or neck whenever he could; all in the hopes it would earn him you moving to hug him back or just squeeze his hand. Yet he got neither.

So again he tries to be affectionate with you by holding your hand tugging you to sit in his lap while he reads his book aloud to you, keeping his hand on your waist as he rubbed patterns into it as he felt you relax into his chest, but doing nothing more then resting your head on his chest rather then nuzzling into his neck and giving him kisses on his scars there. He was a little deflated but he wasn’t about to give up as you never once gave up on him when he became recluse and secretive himself.

Third time was the charm or so the saying goes as Jason would greet you when you came home from work with Jason cupping your head in his hands and kissed your forehead, nose, both cheeks before finishing with your lips. ‘How are you sweetheart? Tired?’ He asked softly as he rests his head against yours to look into your tired eyes.

‘Very.’ You murmured, leaning into him with half lidded eyes as your hands rested on his waist.

‘Want to go to bed and cuddle while I read to you?’ He then asked.

‘Yeah that sounds good jay birdie, I just want to forget the shit show that today has been.’ You replied yawning.

‘Don’t worry chipmunk I’ll take care of you.’ Jason cooed as he helped you to your shared room where you both got into something more comfortable before retreating to the comforting embrace of your bed. You subconsciously cuddled up to Jason’s side, resting your head into the crook of his neck as your hands traced shapes into his chest while Jason kept you close to him with his hand on your back.

Turns out you were just too tired from work to be affectionate with him as you’d later admit to him the next morning as you smothered his face in kisses to make up for it, despite Jason’s insistence that you didn’t have to, but wasn’t against you kissing up on him again as he smiled dopey at the feeling of your lips against his skin once more.

Roy and dick never let Jason forget this afterwards but they were happy that Jason found someone whom he could bear his heart to and have it treasured and loved in return.

[ha-rinrin]

First I want to say that I really love and enjoy your writing and take all the time you need :)

Second I would like to request a jinx x artist reader who likes to sketch her a little too much (not a weird way just like just the reader do absentmindedly)

Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m sorry it took me this long to fulfill your request, but I finally finished it, so here it is 🤍 Also, guys, I’m sorry for disappearing for so long. I’ve had a lot on my plate, but I’ll try to post more often like before 😔

masterlist

Sketching Jinx

The workshop was dimly lit, a safe haven for Jinx’s chaotic energy. You sat cross-legged on the couch, sketchbook balanced on your knee, pencil in hand. Jinx was deep in her element, hunched over her workbench littered with wires, gears, and various mechanical parts. She was busy assembling a new invention, her tongue poking out slightly from the corner of her mouth in concentration.

You watched her—loose strands of blue hair escaping her braids, the way she pounded a hammer against a stubborn piece of metal. She didn’t notice you drawing her, and you preferred it that way. You liked capturing these candid moments of Jinx—her in-between states, before the chaos took over.

With each movement, she seemed more alive to you—vibrant, unpredictable, like a force of nature. You captured every detail: the smudges of oil on her fingers, the way she occasionally glanced up at the ceiling, clearly lost in thought. Your pencil moved smoothly across the paper, sketching her unfiltered essence.

“You drawing me again?”

You nodded, barely looking up from your work. “Yeah,” you answered, your voice soft but certain.

Jinx let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she continued to tinker. “It’s the third time today I catch you sketching me,” she commented, not bothering to hide her amusement. “And you don’t even let me see them.”

A playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you glanced up at her. “Guess I like keeping my favorite sketches a secret,” you teased.

Jinx paused, a smirk playing on her lips as she turned to face you, crossing her arms. “So now I’m your favorite thing to sketch, huh?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You chuckled softly, meeting her playful gaze. “Maybe,” you teased back, a hint of mischief in your voice.

Jinx stood up and stepped closer, clearly intent on convincing you to show her the drawings. “Come on, let me see them,” she insisted. “I’m your favorite subject, remember?”

You pretended to think about it, giving her a sly smile. “Hmm, I don’t know…” you teased, shaking your head. “What if I don’t want to share?”

Jinx’s smirk widened, and she reached out to tickle you gently on the side. “Come on, just one peek?” she urged, her voice a playful mix of frustration and laughter.

You held firm, shaking your head. “Nope, not showing them.”

Jinx’s expression shifted as she suddenly lifted you up from the couch and wrapped you in a tight hug, pulling you close against her while you return the hug, your sketchbook left on the couch. “Come on, just one little peek,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear.

You resisted, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not a chance,” you teased.

Jinx let out a soft huff and started planting kisses all over your face—on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. “How many kisses do I need to give you until you show them to me?” she asked, her voice playful and warm.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “A lot,” you replied, trying to keep your composure.

Jinx’s smirk softened into a smile, and she began to kiss your cheeks more insistently, each one lingering longer than the last. “How about now?” she murmured against your skin, her breath warm.

You held out, a defiant sparkle in your eye. “Still not showing,” you teased back.

Jinx’s playful grin returned as she started to tickle you, fingers dancing over your sides. “How about now?” she repeated, her kisses turning into playful bites on your cheeks.

You laughed uncontrollably, trying to squirm away. “Okay, okay, you win!” you finally surrendered, grabbing the sketchbook from the couch and giving it to her. “But you owe me big time for this.”

Jinx’s eyes lit up with triumph, and she pulled the sketchbook from your hands, giving you one last peck on the lips before stepping back to examine your drawings. “Totally worth it,” she said with a satisfied grin, flipping through the pages. “These are amazing, you know that?”

Jinx flipped through the pages, her expression shifting from playful amusement to genuine amazement. She stopped on a page and held it out for you to see. “Did you… did you draw me while I was sleeping?” she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and wonder.

You peered over her shoulder at the sketch—Jinx, head resting on her arms, a soft smile on her lips as she slept peacefully amidst her mechanical work. The moment had been so fleeting, so candid, that you hadn’t even realized you’d captured it.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, you looked so peaceful,” you admitted softly. “Couldn’t resist.”

Jinx’s eyes softened as she studied the sketch. “This is… wow,” she breathed, running her fingers over the paper gently. “I didn’t even know you were watching.”

You shrugged, feeling a little bashful under her gaze. “I like capturing moments like these. They’re the real you, without all the chaos,” you explained, your voice low and sincere.

Jinx’s expression turned tender, and she stepped closer, placing the sketchbook back to you. “You really see me, don’t you?” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. “Not just the crazy, but all of it—the quiet moments, too.”

You met her gaze, nodding. “Yeah, I do,” you replied softly. “That’s what makes you so… special to me.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Jinx’s lips, and she leaned in, brushing a loose strand of hair from your forehead. “Guess I’m glad you didn’t hide this one,” she said, her voice affectionate.

You shrugged, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Maybe I’m starting to trust you with these,” you admitted, your heart pounding a little faster than usual.

Jinx’s smile widened, and she leaned in even closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good,” she murmured against your skin. “I want to see more of them.”

You smiled back at Jinx, your heart swelling with affection. “I guess you’re worth the trust,” you replied softly, leaning into her embrace.

Jinx’s expression softened, and she pulled you into a warm, gentle hug. “I’m glad,” she whispered, her voice full of sincerity. “Because these moments, they mean everything to me.”

You snuggled into her embrace, feeling content and happy. “You’re my favorite thing to sketch,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But maybe now… I’m starting to like sharing them with you.”

Jinx squeezed you tighter, pressing her lips to the top of your head. “Good,” she murmured again, her voice thick with emotion. “I want to be a part of all your moments, even the quiet ones.”

With Jinx’s arms around you and the warmth of her embrace, everything felt just right. You knew that no matter what happened next, you’d always have these sweet, quiet moments with her to hold onto. And that was enough to make you happy, for now and forever.

[umbrella-show]

ᴏʜ, ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ!

When you were transported to this world, you had just so happened to land in the unexplored forest close to the Cookie Kingdom. You had quickly stumbled across it and were seen by a cookie.

You were soon connected to the Legend of the Baker and cookies insisted you should  officially become ruler of the Cookie Kingdom.

Custard Cookie III was a bit reluctant at first. He did really want to be king, but you were the Baker. You were WAY more important than him. You should definitely rule!

However, the minute you were officially crowned, he ran up to you and begged you to teach him how to be a great ruler so one day, when you step down, he can rule.

And you, being sympathetic and not thinking of a reason why this could be a bad idea, accepted.

Ever since, he’s been visiting you whenever he can and persistently asking about what you do as a ruler.

He wants to know everything. He wants to become a just and powerful king when he eventually takes the throne!

As he gets to know you more, visits become almost daily. He rants to you about anything and everything.

He mostly rants about what he would do as king. How he would help his kingdom thrive. It warms your heart, watching him talk about his desire to make sure every cookie in the kingdom would be happy under his rule.

Eventually, the idea of inheriting the throne almost makes him feel a bit bad. If you ever had to give up power, it would be because something bad would have to happen to you.

He doesn’t want that! It makes him feel sad. He’s not ready yet.

All of his worries and emotions eventually boil over during one of his visits. He cried and hugged your leg as he told you his realization through tears. 

You spent a while comforting him until he stopped crying, reassuring you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Despite the emotional visit, he acted completely fine the next day when he ran into your office and eagerly began ranting and asking you about royal advice.

He does that the most. He asks you about what you do as ruler and asks you to teach him how to do it so he’s prepared.

Overall, he really looks up to you. He wants to be just like you. He’s like a younger sibling, copying everything you and proclaiming he’ll be just like you. Just like the legendary Baker.

“Why are you looking at so many papers?”

You looked over at Custard Cookie III, who was standing on a chair and peering down at the document you were currently reading. He was visibly confused, his eyes trying to read it. His voice raised as he grew slightly frustrated at the hard time he was having trying to read the document.

“I can’t understand any of this! What does frivolous even mean?!”

You only chuckled, tapping your pen against the table. You gently ruffled his fluffy golden hair, causing him to pout and complain.

“H-Hey, watch the crown!”

Smiling, you stopped, returning to your previous task. Your eyes were glued onto the document, carefully reading word by word. Your eyes shifted from one word to the next and Custard could easily notice the intense focus in your eyes as you carefully read the fine print.

“Most of these papers are about approving trades from the Jelly Bear train and other suppliers, which I have to sign. Some are letters from one of the other Kingdoms that are mostly invites for dances or just meet ups. A lot of those are from the Hollyberry kingdom and Golden Cheese Kingdom.”

You responded, looking over the last paragraph and signing your signature at the bottom of the paper. You set the multiple paged document aside, grabbing another from the pile and starting the process all over again. Custard poted, raising his handmade scepter into the air and declaring.

“Well, when I’m king I’ll ban paperwork, so you’ll never have to do any again!”

You chuckled, finding his naivety amusing. You put your pen down, flexing the stiff muscles in your hand and stretching your arms in the air. Silence filled the room as you stretched, before you felt Custard suddenly grab the hem of your outfit, gently tugging. He looked up at you, his face troubled and his voice soft.

“Can we do something else?”

You stared at him, then the papers, then back at him. He was making puppy dog eyes. You could feel your resolve weaken at the sight. You softly sighed, getting up from your office chair and grabbing your coat. You could see Custard was beaming from the corner of your eyes, making you smile as he hastily grabbed his scepter.

“Alright. How about a walk through the garden?”

“Yay!”

You giggled at his excitement while you buttoned up your coat and walked over to the office doors, holding them open for him. You watched as he raced out the door and took your hand, practically skipping down the halls. You smiled as you saw he occasionally glanced at the banners and decorations hung on the walls.

“I can’t for this all to be mine one day. I’m going to be the best king anyone’s ever seen!”

“I believe you will.”

You quietly agreed, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He giggled as he began to run quicker down the walls and pulling you with him.

“I can’t wait to be king!”

Dont focus too much on the Baker's design I'm still tryin to figure it out 😭 🙏

[luveline]

hi my lovely!! maybe bombshell!reader and spencer struggling to adjust to daily life after his prison stint? maybe he feels suffocated and an argument ensues?? i feel like it would be difficult to just get back to normal after everything that happened !! love you <33

love you!!! fem!reader

“You’ve always had terrible posture.” 

“What?” Spencer asks. 

You wrap your arms around him from behind. You’re more gentle than anyone he’s ever met, though you're teasing, whispering in his ear, “You sit forward so far you must get knots.” 

He’s immediately tense. You take little notice, your nose in his hair, your hand riding up toward his neck, which you spoil with soft touching. He tries to relax. It's all he wanted only a week ago, to have you holding him, to smell your perfume, the stick of your hand lotion or the traces of mint in your lip oil as you kiss the skin just behind his ear. But now it feels like too much. You’re never too much, not for him, and yet. 

“Ready?” you ask, bracing your hands against his chest. 

You pull him back until he hears a solid click emanating from the mid of his spine, and you laugh quite nicely in his ear. You’re his showful girl, but you’ve taken care since he came back to be careful. This is the cheekiest you’ve acted. His ears are ringing as your fingertips draw a path down his chest. This is a proper hug. His chest compresses tightly, he can’t draw breath. 

“Love you,” you say, kissing his cheek. You show no signs of detaching. “You smell really good. Maybe we can get some Indian takeout tonight and just stay all comfy and stuff…” 

He can’t answer. He wishes you’d stop touching him. It’s an unfair wish. 

“Does that sound okay?” you ask. 

He nods, hoping you’ll get off of him once you know the answer. When you stay, he shifts his shoulder and forces out a tight, “Yeah, that’s good.” 

“I love you.” 

He loves you so much it hurts to say. “I love you too.” 

“You’re not feeling okay?” you ask quietly. 

“I’m fine.” 

You climb off of him quickly. He knows he’s been too mean, worse when you say, “Okay,” in a tone like you’ve choked on something. “Uh, well, I’ll go find a menu.” 

You’re not one for filler words —it’s how he knows he’s thrown you for a loop. 

Spencer isn’t trying to be spiteful. He’s constantly overstimulated, he has been for three or months now, weeks and weeks of being in fight mode and now he’s home he doesn’t feel home, you’re here but he’s struggling to just accept that things are fine again. They don’t feel fine. 

He knows he’s lucky. He feels sick, is all. 

After a phone call he hears from the couch where you place an order for all his favourite mains and sides, you return to the living room of his apartment (of which you practically live in) and sit on the far side of the couch. Not too far to miss, but enough to betray how he’s made you feel. 

“Don’t sit so far away,” he says. 

“You’re being snippy, Spencer. Which is fine. But I don’t want to fight.” 

He holds out his hand. “Don’t sit so far away,” he repeats, preface to an apology. 

You shuffle across the couch on your knees. Spencer doesn’t want a hug, but he takes your hand and holds it to his chest where his heartbeat goes a tick too fast. Your frown softens as the bump of his pulse registers. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“That’s okay.” You’re lying at first, then not, “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re– I know this is still bad. I know I’m not being the most help I could be for you right now.” 

“It’s not like that,” he insists. 

“Well. Don’t be sorry. But please don’t say you love me if you don’t want to say it, Spence.” 

He could bite off his own tongue. “I feel like I can’t speak. I think I need to talk to Dr. Kelly tomorrow. I’m so anxious I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

He figures he owes you some honesty, but he’s wishing he kept it to himself when he sees the stricken look that lights your eyes. Your mouth turns to a line. 

Spencer grabs for your other hand. “I’m fine,” he says again. 

“Oh, sure.” You massage his fingers with your thumb on automatic. “You seem totally fine.” You lean in. “I don’t expect you to be fine, you know that? If you’re moody, that’s okay. You can be mad at me if you want, I think you deserve it. But I’m serious, don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.” 

“I always mean it,” he says honestly. 

For a moment, you bite your lip, your eyes on his, and he worries he’s not as forgiven as he wants to be. 

“I’ll call Dr. Kelly,” you say finally, pulling your joined hands into your lap. “I want you to feel better, babe. That’s all I want.” 

He nods, lifting his chin for a kiss you give immediately. The suffocating feeling abates.