#I like this overall and it really doesn't matter in the long run but it matters to me so I'm thinking about it too much y'know?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

As a Leona stan, what are your favorite aspects of him?

His only redeeming character trait is his boobs

WDYM, I’M NOT A L*ONA STAn 💀 I WOULD NEVER DEBASE MYSELF BY ASSOCIATING WiTH HIM LIKE THAT...

... But HYPOTHETICALLY speaking, if I were a L*ona stan 🤔 I'd say my favorite aspect of him (you read that correctly, I'm only going to talk about ONE aspect here, not multiple otherwise this post would be way too long) is his ability to guide and to lead others. (I already have a huge bias towards "big brother" type characters so 🧍) It doesn't really matter to me that Leona is technically a younger brother and not an older one; "big brother" comes across so strongly in his behaviors and attitude that he's basically an honorary one.

It's so crazy to me just how much Leona does for others, even if he comes off as annoyed or arrogant when he does or has selfish ulterior motives he hopes to achieve by helping others out. He tutors Ruggie, helps Epel by making a voice-changing potion, hones in on his club members' preexisting skills and has them sharpen those, instructs Deuce + Jack on how to more efficiently mine magestones, went after Jack when he expressed wanting to go to a shady amusement park, sacrifices himself to let others run from puppets, gives advice to Jamil in book 6, and is constantly thinking about his country and worries about its future under his brother's rule. Book 2, for as bad as the writing is overall, kicked off because Leona wanted to take drastic steps to help his dorm's students secure their future career prospects in athletics. Several students express respect or admiration for Leona because of this. All of Savanaclaw follow him unquestionably. Jack was inspired from seeing one of Leona's magift/spelldrive plays on television. Epel thinks he's cool and aspires to be like him. I'M SURE THERE ARE A TON OF OTHER EXAMPLES THAT I CAN'T POSSIBLY CRAM IN HERE. The fact that I can list off so many examples off the top of my head should already speak to how much BIG BROTHER-NESS can be packed into Leona.

The best part of it all is that this makes complete sense for his character. Leona is someone who has given up hope for himself and his own future 😭 YET HE'S OVER HERE SUPPORTING ALL THESE OTHER PEOPLE BECAUSE HE STILL HAS HOPE FOR THEIR FUTURES. This is so clear to me if you read his post-OB flashback in the light novel but it's also there in his chat with Jamil in book 6. This fr makes me mad sad because literally all the people he helps out legitimately look up to him EVEN WHEN LEONA HIMSELF CAN'T SEE HIS OWN WORTH OR DOESN'T BELIEVE THAT HE'S CAPABLE OF GOODNESS (as we see in his book 7 dream). I just find this endlessly fascinating to examine.

AGAIN THOUGH, this is all purely hypothetical :> because I am NOT, in fact, a L*ona stan.

[brb-on-a-quest]

World building is so fun in the headcannoning but putting it on paper? Somehow turns into a clunky, congealed soupy mess.

[acid-ixx]

— masterlist !

i'm thinking of this one au where it's not really a neglected batfam fic but it's within the timeline of again &. again. a darker fic, where instead of being taken in by the family, you were left to fend for yourself after your mother's death— which basically turned you into a version where you're more traumatized than you are with the awareness that bruce, who was supposed to be your father to take you in, never once came to find you after the incident.

which cues to you following your mother's footsteps: becoming the same wo/maneater. but instead of working in the streets or finding bars to perform and sell your body to— you force yourself to learn to be more promiscuous at an early age, find your mother's old clients, become trained by other criminals associated with her— your mentors aren't the greatest, they only use you to up their customer counts, they don't care about you, whether you cry or not, whether the clothes you wear are too tight or if you're tight in budget to even afford food.

you're exposed to the cruelty of the world at an early age. learn that bluntness, letting go of any empathy for people will be the only thing keeping you alive.

leading to your adult life: you became an underground model. with no known last name, with the reputation of an enchantress. your life is shrouded in mysteries, in conspiracy theories and endless rumors and dirt about your name—

but that doesn't matter, scratch that, your point of view doesn't matter because in this fic idea, i just want to focus mainly on how the batfamily starts becoming obsessed with you. i want to create something inherently focusing on their perspective of it all.

your mystery, your allure, your overall poise and stage presence. maybe bruce once forced himself to watch one of those boring runway performances, and he just sees you and sees himself in you—

which leads to this: one day of finally being able to attend one of bruce's fancy galas, courtesy of a very personal invitation from bruce from backstage. each member of the family manages to have one single interaction with you. any casual talk, any jokes thrown their way, a dance with one, a light, almost hesitant laugh to another— colored contacts hiding the ugly dimness which in turn piques tim's interest, makes him want to dissect your thoughts.

like, i don't know if i'm formulating my thoughts coherently enough for this concept to be entertained. but to sum it all up, just imagine those shows where it's told through a perspective of multiple people focusing on one cryptid, on a case long unsolved, a creature which holds no known record to human history— and soon those people's lives become revolved around that one mystery, consumed by familiarity at most.

because you are part of their family, none of them ever knew until the very end. think of that horrendous tom taylor plot twist within the nightwing run where there's this one girl who confessed being dick's long lost sister— now imagine you actively trying your best to stay unknown to them, long since given up through idolizing them through broken tv screens and focusing on yourself instead. you're well aware they're up to something, that they're pinning their curiosity onto you—

cue to me telling alexa to play anxiety by doechii, where like i said: not one thing is revealed about your thoughts unlike in the original a&a series, but rather me writing a series of everyone else's personal thoughts on you and how they each spiral into straight up obsession and the need to keep you for themselves despite never knowing why really.

because in their eyes, you've always been just a model who randomly piqued their attention. they never knew that you were always connected to them from the start— not until the very end at least.

any thoughts on this idea or do i scrap it?

just send in a comment or an ask because i'm in a writing crunch hehe.

[jedisupernova]

married life with kwon jiyong

notes minors dni contains fem aged up reader (same age as jiyong), reader has a normal job, always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but anyone can read, slice of life, tooth rotting fluff, gentle love, suggestiveness, playful bickering and banter, mentions of drinking and smoking, smut (in the morning, oral f and m receiving, primarily sub!jiyong though it can switch), some angst (mentions of hardships and arguments, allusions to his hiatus and your struggles of being with a public figure,) overall just him being one of the keys to my heart, and inevitable typos.

requested? no because i can't be normal about anything! and i want this man so bad! this is my first time writing for jiyong; please be kind. this one is long. i really liked writing this, i hope you enjoy :)

life outside of your shared apartment is very busy, at times chaotic, and noisy. your husband and you live very different lives, and have done so since you started dating twelve years ago; him being a renowned musician, respected artist and performer, and a highly in demand global celebrity both on stage and at fashion week. you, on the other hand, worked as an executive assistant at a firm in the city for almost as long as you've been with jiyong. it came with its own stresses and discrepancies, as any job does. but when you two are home, all that matters are your wedding bands, feeding the cats, and snuggling so close on the couch that your body temperatures become one.

the love you share is at an atomic level. it doesn't manifest in finishing each other's sentences, per se, but more so jiyong knows whether you want coffee or tea that morning simply from how deep your frown is when waddling out of the bathroom. you can tell when a cold is creeping up on him simply from the sound his nostrils make upon an inhale, leaving him a steaming mug of ginger tea on his bedside table for him to drink before sleeping. if your hands are busy, he'll clip your earrings on for you. jiyong cleans your reading glasses every morning without fail, no matter how late either of you are—in the middle of his morning smoke, whilst you're in the shower, or when the coffee pot is brewing. or when you're running really late, hastily collecting your keys and trying to finish your toast, he squats down, shoe in one hand and your ankle in the other, saying "put your foot in," sliding your shoes on for you. you give him your hand without thinking when his fingers become restless. you pull him into your arms when he's being more quiet than usual. his hand will reach over to your cheek, thumb gently rubbing in a sheer streak of sunscreen that wasn't blended all the way before planting a kiss on the same spot. when he calls you, depending on the time of day, it's either to get lunch together or an attempt to get you to call off work early ("i'll tell my boss the same excuse as you if you do it too, honey." "jiyongie, cut it out. i'm late for a meeting. you're your own boss, anyway." "i married a smart one, hm?"), or how heavy his steps were when walking gave hint to how tired he was that day. you were the other's second nature—a soul meshed; equation solved.

jiyong initially fell for how unapologetic you are. who would've thought on your third date with the utmost famous kpop idol, that you'd be rapping his part in 'we belong together' to him at a random noraebang in gangnam at one in the morning? you remember thinking you couldn't believe you made it this far with him, so you just decided to do whatever—to see what happens, but also alleviate nerves, primarily. albeit you mumbled through a third of it and your hiccups from the soju you shared echoed loudly into the microphone—but you charmed the fuck out of him. he hadn't laughed that hard in a long while, and his flustered state followed him all the way home and into calling you the next day. it trickled into your relationship as it became more serious and into marriage: you were never afraid to tell him an accessory didn't go with an outfit (which has caused some petty arguments), not act like you liked a track when you didn't, or let him think he landed a joke well on a variety show (he always did, though. you just teased him so you could squish his cheeks from how deeply he pouted.) your honesty was refreshing, considering how easy it was to be surrounded by yes-men in the industry he's in.

jiyong showed his love in front of his staff, too. it wasn't only apparent in your holding of his hand in your lap during car rides, or his hand on your lower back as he showed you around sets for his music videos, but just how he visibly brightened at the sight of his wife. even in the midst of a contentious conversation with his team over creative direction, you sucked him out it just by walking into the room. that smile, the glow on his face—it was damning. better yet, you joined in too, unable to ignore the frustrated furrow of his eyebrows. some staffers couldn't help but gossip on their lunch breaks sometimes, saying in those meetings it felt like they were sat with the co-presidents of a company, or giggle over how they overheard you planting rather loud kisses on your husband's face, talking sweetly when you thought you two were alone and out of earshot ("you're my baby—my sweetheart." you kissed his cheek, soon landing on his lips with his makeshift pout from your holding of his face. "i am." he hummed, puckering his lips. "i'm your big baby."—"that's the same man who was growling into the mic the first day i met him?" said one assistant to another over lunch. "no, it makes sense," she countered with the shake of her head after taking a sip of her drink. "he's also the same guy who wrote 'good boy.'"

he does not go to sleep without you. jiyong makes due when he's overseas, albeit begrudgingly and does not let you hang up the facetime call when you both fall asleep. when you're both home, he gets up off the couch and takes your hand, tugging it. "come to bed. it's almost eleven." he said, pulling your arm. "i'm in the middle of my show, my love." you respond, pulling him back towards you. "i'll give you my ipad. now, c'mon." "fine, fine." you give in, pressing the power button on the remote before getting up. his free hand held your jaw, squishing your cheeks together and pouting your lips, placing a playful kiss. "thank you, my baby." he muttered. "yeah, yeah," you said before his lips returned to yours. "it better be charged." and it was, perched in your lap, finishing your episode with his airpods, too, jiyong snoring quietly beside you, having fallen asleep with his hand atop yours over the duvet.

when he comes home after extra exhausting days at work—especially if it was comeback prep, a studio session, a music video or performance filming day that began early that morning—he's very mumbly. upper half of his face hidden under a thick beanie, placing a lazy peck on your cheek as a greeting, shuffling to the shower, and plopping down almost cartoonishly at the dining table with a huff. you bring him a bowl of steaming leftovers from your cooking like clockwork. before you turn around to go get white wine for the both of you, jiyong takes your hand in his, pressing kisses onto your soft skin; a wordless thank you. you brush back his hair with your fingers, kissing his forehead. "i love you too." you say. "eat well, hm?"

you retrieve the previously opened bottle of white wine from one of the kitchen cabinets, carrying two glasses in your other hand. you pour the same amount for him and yourself, cheersing wordlessly before taking a drink. it was then that you saw jiyong still had a colored lens on—his left eye his natural brown, the right an unnatural pale grey, looking at you like an inverted mangekyo sharingan since the pupils weren't completely aligned—and thought to yourself oh! ... must've been a really long day, then.

he plans birthday and anniversary gifts months in advance. early in your relationship, he gifted very often, until he had no choice but to dial it down at your request. you lived in a small studio apartment until you moved in with him a year before he proposed, and there was only so much room for gifts varying from weekly flower bouquets (your personal favorite, even if it meant your kitchen counter and coffee table were virtually unusable with vases filled with daises, roses, and carnations), cartier bracelets ("do i look like someone who has somewhere to wear this to?" "yes, you do. on our trip to jeju next weekend and every single date after that."), or a first edition print of a book you love ("you spend too much money on me." "i would open my own bank just to take care of you.") even so, jiyong still has his ways—a new perfume on your vanity on the anniversary of his asking to be your boyfriend; a weekend getaway for your birthday; restocking your skincare whenever he walks in on you screwing the cap off your moisturizer to get the last bits of it; a mini tin of chocolate truffles paired with a loving handwritten note he always leaves on your bedside table before he travels overseas, even if you see him off to the airport.

wedding anniversaries are mainly spent at home. you've traveled elsewhere for the occasion before, but as you got older, cooking a warm meal together, opening a bottle of champagne, cutting expensive tiramisu cake, and sharing kisses on the couch sufficed more than enough. some anniversaries are tipsier than others, featuring either a comedically inebriated attempt of recreating your wedding dance ("and then i spun you around—" "no, you dipped me, jiyong." "hey! you don't think i know what happened at my own wedding?" "i was there, too! and you dipped me!") whilst the cats meow in protest of the noise, or going down a youtube rabbit hole and him begging you not to put on the bigbang secret garden parody in the recommended ("but it's my favorite thing you've ever done!" "stop lying, i know you like zutter the most!"), or the tradition of him playing 'HoneyBaeGirl,' a short song he wrote—and many since then—about you after becoming official all those years ago ("'girl, you make my pen fly off my paper, but not as fast as the stork that'll carry our baby' ... you really liked me that much?" "you say this every year, and i always tell you that i started looking at rings before our six months.")

however, without fail, every year jiyong is the last to fall asleep on the night of your anniversary. your upper half atop his, legs entangled underneath the fluffy duvet, his arms wrapped around your back, hands holding your head to his chest; two tall glasses once filled with water on his nightside table, downed before bed in an effort to thwart a possible hangover the next day. it's the feeling of his fingers combing your hair back that lulls you to sleep, along with the intermittent flutter of kisses to your forehead, and the vibrations of his chuckles against your ear when you mumbled something tiredly. "i love you so much, honey. thank you for another year." he spoke quietly. "i love you too," you muttered, slumber heavy in your senses. "let's do a millennia." he grinned. "let's do it."

when you fall asleep, his palm rests along your jaw, thumb tracing the supple skin of your cheekbone back and forth. his eyes would watch the rise and fall of your chest against his, or peer down at your face. so blissfully asleep, so easily beautiful. no matter how late at night, or how much liquor he drank, as if on cue, his mind shuffled through memories in a scattered sequence—the first time you spoke on the phone so long that the early morning sun caught him off guard; the coordinated efforts to see you in private; when your relationship leaked anyway during your two year anniversary trip (whilst you were still actively on it); when you were defiant upon his suggesting to break up to protect you ("why should i compromise for people who live in a false reality?"); hundreds of hours spent in the studio when dates felt impossible with his schedule, to you ultimately getting fed up and just meeting him where he was, leading to endless recordings he's kept on his laptop of you haphazardly attempting to rap to a beat he's made or sampling you in songs that stay between the two of you; his proposal, and both of yours blubbering tears ("c-can i—will you—" "—y-yes! oh my god, yes!" "i have to finish the question—oh my god, i can't breath through my own tears—c'mere, i'll wipe yours."); or one night on your four year wedding anniversary trip when you two were at polar opposite ends of the hotel lobby after a particularly rowdy night at the club together following a romantic dinner, both equally drunk if not you rivaling him—jiyong sat in a cushioned chair, on the phone with either an assistant, producer, or his financial advisor. you didn't know, nor the third rum and coke looming in your system hadn't made you care all that much. you were too busy trying to keep your eyes open to not out your deep inebriation to the poor concierge working the overnight shift whilst jiyong spoke quietly albeit with a finger in his other ear as if he was still in the club.

it was his recollection of this next part that always made jiyong grin to himself, the vibrations of his chuckle against your ear resulting in your satisfied yet meek hum amidst your slumber: "could you—would you be able to bring more towels to suite 403?" you asked politely, attempting irrationally to thwart the continued slurring of your words by straightening your posture. "it should be under the name . . . " your eyes went wide. "oh my goodness, what's my name?" you looked around worriedly, catching your shaky balance by gripping the counter, unable to believe that you were so far gone that your surname temporarily slipped from your consciousness. the concierge tried to get your attention saying she knew who you were as she was the person who checked you in a few days ago, but your fingers tapped your lips anxiously, seeing jiyong get up from his seat and walk over. "ji . .. jiyong—" you tried to call him over, but it felt like your voice couldn't go above a certain point. you turned back to the concierge, blurting the first thing that came to mind: "dragon. try dragon." you pointed to the computer, irrational worry knotted between your eyebrows. then your heart dropped for an entirely different reason: "i just compromised our safety." "what?" jiyong giggled beside you, hand finding your hip. "i leave you alone for two minutes and you're talking like you're in a bond film." you quickly leaned towards his ear, making yourself dizzy in the process. "i just told them you're g-dragon." you whispered frantically. he couldn't hold in his laughter, finding the ordeal amusing. the look on your face wasn't any better. he was pocketing this memory forever."that's fine, my love. they know—" "—i told them i'm mrs. dragon!" you whispered. "well, for one: you are." he shrugged his shoulders, hiccuping in the middle of his colorful laughter. "and two: its fine," jiyong assured, taking your hand. its good that we're leaving tomorrow, though. his inner monologue percolated at the back of his head. "let's head to our room. we're gonna feel this in the morning."

speaking of mornings: they're sacred in your household. historically, jiyong's the first to wake. but he doesn't get up until a while later, often silently coexisting with your sleeping form. call it two lost souls finding each other in this life, mere coincidence, or whatever it may be, but you wake up no more than a half hour after him—jiyong's ears perking up at the sound of your all-too-familiar, prolonged hmph. he scoots over, duvet rustling as his body molds against yours, lips finding that spot on your temple. you respond with the gradual wrapping of your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer, warmth doubling. "good morning." he mumbled lowly, satisfied with your barely passing verbal response of another hmph. after a while, you nudge him off, feeling sweat start to build. "m'boiling." "you're s'mean." jiyong protested weakly, but obliged, moving back lazily to his side of the bed. like clockwork, jiyong felt a tug at the collar of his shirt, or hand on his shoulder if he slept without one some moments later, beckoning him when you were more awake, voice coherent. "come back here." "i thought i almost killed you." "stop being dramatic. its barely seven in the morning." "you made me this way." "fine. then i'll take the car myself to work." it took a moment, but jiyong turned back to you, huffing with an air of faux stubbornness upon your lips finding his cheek. "you know i always take to you to work." jiyong muttered into your neck. "its non-negotiable." you adjusted your position, relieving your back and allowing him to lay more comfortably between your legs, warmth of your thighs snuggling against his waist. "anything's on the table if you act stupid enough." "i don't have the brainpower for a witty comeback." "be quiet and let me hold you, then."

you were devastatingly beautiful in the mornings. one peek into your brain and jiyong knew you would think your dry lips, oily t-zone, shorts that rode up your ass comedically and uncomfortably, and sleep lines running across your cheek and arm after a restful night of sleep wasn't exactly the sight—but you were wrong; you were a sight to behold. jiyong's held that sense of awe from the first time you fell asleep beside him on one of your first movie nights as twenty-something-year-olds—never forgetting what it felt like to internalize the sound of your softened breaths, or your head dropping to his shoulder. to have your trust whilst you were in such a vulnerable state tugged at his tear ducts, despite his failed argument of "its because we were watching 'little miss sunshine' that i got so worked up," only to be pulled into your arms upon your catching sight of his increasingly glossy eyes, adorning his face with kisses.

it was the same sensation today as he opened his eyes, thumb tracing the wrinkles of your bottom lip before settling in the temporary divot of your cheek casted by your pillow; waist welcoming the subtle grip of those thick thighs that bestow upon him both heavenly pleasures and a sense of home; fingers fluttering past your rolls for his palm to grip the side of your right thigh, feeling the plushness of your skin nurtured by moisturizer and body oil applied the night before, humming in content at the soft prickle of body hair against his palm; hand sneaking past the bottom hem of your shorts, thumb kneading the powdery plushness of your ass, earning him a shaky breath as his lips peppered kisses onto your neck. jiyong slowly trailed down your chest, propping himself up with his free elbow, pulling your cami down enough to expose your right breast. he relished in your scent, basking in the lingering luxurious vanilla as his lips encircled your areola before taking it entirely in his mouth. he suckled with intent, lapping your hardening peak with his eyes closed. if he didn't think about it, he'd lull himself to sleep. it's happened before.

you brought his free hand to your lips, pressing kisses onto his fingertips until you cut yourself off with a small moan, looking down at your husband completely lost in you. the sun had barely began to rise, but here you two were, clearing either of your senses of slumber with your concurrent libidos—like you weren't a day past twenty-four; going at it in a company car before he walked into the practice room with an unmatched aura and graphic tee on inside out, hair tousled. "make it quick," you whispered, bottom lip caught between your teeth when his hand kneaded your left breast. "have to get up in fifteen minutes." "got it." he murmured. jiyong worked quickly, shoving his pants below his knees whilst you pull your shorts down enough to let him in with ease. it was a picturesque way to start your day: holding onto your husband's shoulders as he worked his hips into yours, listening to his quick pants since he's historically ignored the fact that he's more sensitive in the mornings as to not keep himself from making love to the pussy god herself carved for and bestowed upon him all those years ago—every squeeze a blessing; squirm fruitful bounty; utterance of your name a prayer.

jiyong sounded so frail in your ear, begging for mercy from something he started. "s-shit—f-fuck—slow d-down—" he said to no one but himself, voice falling into a mewl, breathing heavily. "how do you—how do you still feel so g-good after all this time? huh?" he's felt you unabashedly raw for years, but some part of him will always be left in awe—where does he begin? jiyong already sees the pearly gates when the skeleton of his name is whispered meekly through your teeth, let alone how it seems you mutually long for one another in your respective rem cycles, considering you slip so swiftly into one another—literally and metaphorically—mere minutes after you've woken up. its not that odd or rather dubious cliché of "feeling young again" or whatever the fuck—its the familiarity of someone that keeps you sane and drives you crazy all the same. and how your muscle memory serves you right even in a state of slight deliriousness, wrapping your legs as best you can around his waist as his heavy balls plop against the bottom of your ass . . . it was beyond jiyong how he wasn't a father of five yet.

"mmf! fuck! t-taking it s-so well—so e-early in the m-morning, too." "w-wouldn't want it any other—o-oh my god, just like that! just like that!" you grabbed at the back of his shoulders, chest pushing into his, your back arching. "harder, jiyongie. h-harder." the look on your face was his motivation to keep going despite his increasingly blurry vision and mounting pressure on his knees from being in the same position. there it was—the face he strived to make music to encapsulate; etched in his memory so many times, but when he sees it, its like he's never seen it before; if someone showed twenty-year-old him a photo of you and told him you were going to be his wife, he'd need a defibrillator. "f-fuck! h—h-haa!" he whimpered faintly, eyebrows contorted upward, hearing the bed creak as he rammed into you. you were in a state of bliss: hair messy, dried drop of drool in the corner of your mouth, toes curling into the linen, sleepies in the corners of your eyes—stretched out by the love of your life at 7:15 in the morning. you weren't particularly religious, but perhaps this is what being god's favorite feels like.

he's a pussy eater to his core. you spent months stuffing your face into your pillow so your roommates wouldn't overhear at three in the morning; jiyong put a chair to the door when you came by promptly before he was due to work with the company producers that day, making way for you two to become masters at hiding what went down less than an hour before on the same couch his boss was now sitting on; your honeymoon reeked of it—and he's a devout enjoyer to this day. the night you sat on his face for the first time, he booked a studio afterwards whilst you slept peacefully next to him on your full size bed—saying some of the raunchiest shit he's ever thought of into that microphone when no one was around. only to play it for you the next night he was over at your apartment, physically feeling his soul achieve completion when you mounted his face again, disappearing between your thighs; seeing double when you rode his cock like it was your last night alive. it was also a rare night where all of your roommates were out—you didn't take that opportunity lightly. or gently. or timidly, really.

his gaze lingers on you in the kitchen the weekends you have off, stealing glances whilst you tried to make something out of the leftovers from the fridge for lunch; growing sick of ordering in all the time. jiyong's attention had long strayed from whatever was playing on the television, fingers toying with the press-on that was half-on half-off his middle finger, eyes barely diverting from you—relaxed in a cami and shorts, stomach peeking over the top hem, your cellulite and curvature of your body illuminated by the streaks of sunlight pouring in from the balcony window—even when one of the cat's dotingly rubbed against his leg when walking past. he got up from the couch, making his way over. he initially made his presence known with his palm tracing your hips, following the curvature of your ass before his chin settled on your shoulder. it was normal—nothing to be picked up on; a gesture you love so tenderly. in fact, you were the one who turned your head to look at him with a soft grin, leaning in and giving him a sweet kiss. it was the way jiyong reconnected it—slow and with a soft, stuttered hum—that you knew what was up.

"not now." you tutted. as if on cue, your stomach grumbled lowly. "m'hungry." "i am too." jiyong's palm rode up your stomach before nestling on your breast, kneading it slowly—another familiar touch, you just didn't have the patience for it right now. his other hand moved the strap of your cami on your other shoulder, letting it fall down your arm, pressing a kiss onto your skin. "you look s'good. can't help it. wanna taste." he muttered. "here, i'll get on the floor. just stay there." before he made his descent, you turned your head. "you're the one who told me his left knee's been giving him problems these last few days. has that suddenly disappeared?" he pouted. "i wanted to be sexy." you mimicked his pout, jutting your bottom lip. "midday on sunday when i'm trying to make us sandwiches out of more than tuna and leftover kimchi?" you quip. he leaned closer, rivaling your faux pout. "mhm," he closed the gap, kissing your cheek. "should've done it this morning when i had the chance. got too shy." you scoffed. "don't make me laugh," you said. "you're the same person who—what was it, again? the second?" you thought aloud; the memory clear in your head as confirmation. "oh, right. yeah—when you were called into the office the second time dispatch got those photos of us, and you told your boss you'd write a song about our 'tender love' to drive up album sales, since that's what he always talked about." jiyong shrugged his shoulders. "i gave him an in. but i am shy." "you can be. sometimes." "all the time." "sometimes." "all the time."

you adore his facial hair to the point of contemplating hiding his shaving kit. his hiatus, as it riddled him with questions of who he is and where he stands in the world, had its own unexpected pockets of unbridled humanity not tainted by the unforgiving eye of societal pressures. it showed in how jiyong texted you whilst you were at work when it became him being the one waiting for his spouse to come home—photos of the cats, what he made for lunch and planned on either making or ordering for dinner, and that he was going an episode back on the series you two were watching together because he didn't remember how a certain plot point progressed. this was especially prevalent during his military service: Don't worry, I'll remember where we left off

on those days he had his scruff—lining his upper lip and peppering his chin—you were unabashed. sure, in the first year or two when you started dating, it was shy glances and hiding your disappointment when he showed up to your apartment freshly-shaven before a comeback. jiyong may have been young, but he wasn't clueless. it was hard not to put the pieces together whenever it was always "one more kiss" when he left for the night, seeing your eyes flutter to his mouth before leaning in again; your back already arched when he trailed kisses down your inner thighs before eating you out, muffling your own moans behind your palm from how good his scruff felt against your skin. this was certainly the tipping point. you never forgot what his "let me hear you" sounded like—slightly demanding, but all the more knowing. it made you moan louder, unabashedly stuffing his face into your cunt with his tongue's every ministration.

the floodgates had opened with you knowing he knew; fucking him as he tried to fuck you from behind, embattling for power. jiyong tried to keep his composure—it was the hottest thing he's ever fucking seen—keeping his grip on your hips, grunting in the midst of your moans. it was the clapping of skin and watching your globes recoil after hitting his pelvis repeatedly that made him surrender his grip to the headboard to keep his balance. and your breathy fucking "jiyongie—j-jiyongie!" bottom lip caught between your teeth, eyebrows curled upward; elbows and knees set ablaze, stomach rubbing uncomfortably against the duvet, but it felt too good to stop. "f-feel so fucking good!" you cried, eyes rolling back hearing his whimper. "fuck me back. fuck me back—n-need it, baby. need it s'bad." jiyong slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip in, hearing you wince longingly at the loss of him filling you up. the condom was creamy and visibly wet. he moaned when he saw his cock twitch inside of you. "all—all this—hngh! f-fuck!" he gradually pushed back in, feeling your gummy walls welcome him like never before. "a-all this b-because of some facial hair, baby? yeah?" "y-yes!" you gasped, eyes squeezing shut when his hips showed no mercy. jiyong ate his own words when he came over a different night, telling you he was going to shave tomorrow, thinking he would be able to handle whatever came his way with a smug grin. he looked ghostly an hour later—spread eagle on your bed, hands lifeless on either side of your ass, only mustering enough strength to kiss you back to break it with his own pathetic whimper, begging for more.

now its sweet hums of satisfaction feeling his scruff when he gives you a kiss before work, tracing it with your fingers as he lulls himself to sleep, or admiring how beautiful he looks. don't get it twisted—those desires never went away. jiyong leads you to his lips with his tongue the nights he comes home from traveling abroad, kissing you in just the way you like, but also the way he knows you feel his four-day-old scruff against your skin. it earns him the chill of your engagement ring and wedding band on the back of his neck, reconnecting the kiss sensually but with a hint of hunger, tilting your head to deepen it. you broke the kiss to catch your breath, forehead landing on his as the water sloshed around you in the tub, his fingers fucking you underneath the rose-scented suds. "a little gentler, jiyongie." "m'sorry," he mumbled. "its okay—" "—just missed my love so much, is all." "missed you t-too." his lips cast a kiss on your shoulder before settling his forehead there, hearing your more satisfied breath when he altered his pace.

or a few days later, when he was trying so hard to watch the confession between the two leads of a series he's been waiting eighteen episodes to see with you, but just couldn't stop himself from shoving his dick deeper into your mouth. there you were, back of your head facing the television, laying comfortably on your side with your feet curled up on the bed, listening to the dialogue whilst sucking your husband's dick. you did it with bliss—like second nature, only opening your eyes to catch your breath and pump his hard cock coated with a mixture of his slick and your spit. he watched you with deeply furrowed eyebrows and his bottom lip begging for mercy—contrasting wildly with how casually he propped his head up with his elbow on his pillow. "f-fuck—a-agh!" he mewled, eyes squeezing shut as you did what he loved most, and may or may not have percolated at the back of his mind when he gifted you a lady dior bag for your birthday that year—sucking hard on his tip, then slowly letting go. the sound your cheeks made when un-hollowing was diabolical. twenty-five year old jiyong would want to somehow sneak that into a b-side, distorting the sound enough to pass it as part of the beat drop or something—anything; seamless to the listener, sinful to him. the idea still stood all these years later, but perhaps he would stick to just keeping it in the lyrics . . .

"hngh! oh my fucking—" jiyong's hand slipped into your hair without thinking, at your complete helm as he watched you take more than half of him into your mouth, sucking hard, before bobbing up and down normally. his voice was a noticeable octave higher—"like that, like that—k-keep—keep going!" "shut up," you muttered. you readjusted yourself on your elbow, feeling your neck begin to strain, his hand falling lifeless onto the bed. you let go of his dick, wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, noticing how his cock barely moved from how hard it was. you started pumping him again, hearing him suck a breath through his teeth. "can't hear the tv. turn up the volume." "o-okay, honey—" jiyong gasped when he returned to your mouth. "okay—f-fuck! oh, fuck—okay!" he reached with his non-dominant hand to the nightside table, aimlessly grabbing for the remote, knocking it to the floor in the process. the small crash made you nearly choke on his dick, popping off quickly in attempts to stifle your laughter behind your hand. "s'fine—s'fine. i got it—" he tried to reach down, but to no avail. "get back here," you beckoned, tugging at his shirt. "you've waited long enough."

this goes without saying, but you have everything you could ever need. from the moment he gave you his black card after a year of dating to use on anything you want, spending five minutes after that ensuring you that he was in the right state of mind ("why're you giving this to me? you barely know me." "what? you and i both know i know you enough to trust you.") to calling you that same week to tell you its okay to use it after seeing only two charges for coffee a few days apart ("i want to take care of you. you're the only one for me, you know that?" "you're crazy." "well, for you." "i set myself up for that one, didn't i?") to feeling utmost satisfaction seeing charges for household maintenance or paying for a movie night with your friends ("it felt rebellious to spend twenty dollars per ticket for five people with someone else's money." "i think you're the funniest person i know.")

you weren't exactly a public figure—jiyong made sure of that as much as he possibly could, as it was your wish—but that didn't mean you were completely or utterly unrecognizable. photos of existed out there of the two of you, either floated around by dispatch, or when your thank-you-for-attending cards containing your official wedding portrait leaked to the press—both with years in-between them. you went to concerts when you felt comfortable enough or could. he never pressured you to do something you didn't want to, but if he really wanted you to come (which was more often than not, if not all the time,) he'd find his ways: "there's going to be a fun rendition of crooked, and my hair will be styled the way you like." "jiyong, i already took my pto. i'm coming." "i love you so much."

in the years of his hiatus, there were several months that went by where everything felt fine, so you took public transit. it wasn't much or often, per se, only when jiyong felt too under the weather to drive you ("head down to the lot. i'll get the keys, baby." "you look ghostly. i'll leave ginger tea brewing on the stove before i leave."), wasn't home, or when he woke up feeling a little off, opting to stay in bed for a little while longer after giving you a tender kiss goodbye. if you looked out the window long enough during that fifteen minute commute, you suddenly felt like the twenty-one year old you once were that wasn't able to be on time for anything, let alone for classes. there were some days you would see the knowing glances from other passengers, or double takes a fool wouldn't notice. to your fortune, they either didn't say anything, or you sped to the escalator before they could.

one evening after work, however, you weren't headed home but out to dinner with a friend. several stops before your usual terminal, cutting down the usual fifteen minute ride to four—remember that. you rushed into the crowded train car before the doors closed, holding onto a nearby pole a small group of passengers around you gripped, fixing your hair that was messily tousled by the wind and securing your purse over your shoulder. in the midst of that, you caught sight of a prototype peaceminusone daisy pin, having forgotten you clipped it onto your blazer weeks ago after jiyong showed you the new collaboration he was working on. it was a moment that lasted mere seconds, the pin covered up by your purse strap after adjusting your posture, but it was enough for someone to see and make the connection after recognizing you. you hadn't realized someone was tailing you until you were outside of the restaurant. jiyong didn't let you go on public transit again for over a year, hiring an on-call chauffeur that same week.

private as you were, and as much the universe tested the both of you—you and jiyong had ways of finding humor amidst the turmoil. he's culturally ordained the king of kpop, yes, but also is equally deserving of the title of being-subtle-but-not-silent—exhibit a being the year when he showed up to paris fashion week with a strategically placed dark maroon-hued kiss mark in the divot of his collarbone, purposefully poking out of the collar of the chanel piece he was wearing. you did it in a rush in the bathroom of his hotel suite as he was running late; the idea coming to the both of you when you put the finishing touches on his outfit—a long-standing tradition usually administered through dusting something off his clothing, adjusting an accessory, or in this case, applying one. netizens ate each other alive—some saying it was what it clearly was, despite the angle of the photos and his clothing hiding a lot but not all, and others convincing themselves it was a birthmark not seen before that day, or a new tattoo. exhibit b being when you were spotted on a "rare public outing" (dispatch's words, not yours; you're no stranger to grocery runs) wearing a very obviously bootlegged g-dragon shirt—his face pixelated and off-center in the front, name separated by several spaces as opposed to a hyphen in the back; a gag gift from a friend a few christmases ago. he thought it was hilarious, sending you the photos himself: You look hot. The guy on your shirt not so much :)

it was a lovely surprise to see you in the crowd when bigbang returned to the stage at mama, stood in a closed-off section of the seating with members of his staff. the lip readers of the internet metaphorically rode off into the sunset after revealing to the world that you, indeed, said gleefully to his manager that you've known for years: "he looks so fucking good, oh my god!" and "i'm glad he went with that necklace!" whilst pointing at the stage—all before dancing and shouting the words back to him like it was your last night alive, of course. another staff member took a video and sent it to the group chat for him to watch in bed whilst you did your skincare in the en suite, tucked into his side, burying his face into his pillow as his face grew warmer.

to this day, he becomes so unexpectedly shy. that same night, for example, you had to use both hands to tug his shoulder to get him to look at you. even then, he still hid his face in his pillow, not having the gall to look at you or wipe that stupid smile off his face. your kisses to his warming cheek didn't help him, let alone your usual line: "you've made me see stars. now you don't want to see me?" you said by his ear, hand rubbing up his back tenderly, giggling upon hearing his muffled groan. "don't say that," he elongated the last syllable, arm slinging over your waist, fingers grazing the top of your ass. "you know i can't bear it." "mhm," you hummed, voice sounding akin to honey. "at least give me a goodnight kiss. i worked so hard cheering for you tonight, you know?" you smiled, hand now coming up to brush his hair back, ushering him to you. jiyong lifted his head, bringing his lips to yours. your hand held his cheek, kissing him back, lips separating slowly. "i love you." you whispered. "i love you more."

or when you two make lunch together, him washing and cutting the vegetables whilst you looked for the pan needed to sauté for the quick dish you decided to make that afternoon. you placed the pan on the stove, turning the correlating knob to ignite the fire underneath, drizzling it with olive oil whilst it began to heat up; an anecdote from work commentating everything. "thought i heard something about lay-offs. turns out, it was just that asshole co-worker that got laid over the weekend." jiyong's eyebrows raised, amused. "you heard that on your lunch break?" you gave him a look that deepened his upside down grin, shaking your head. "the shit i hear, my love," you tutted. "i'm surprised i'm not stuck in a state of perpetual grievance." he let out a laugh, his eyes kissing at the end. "you can be so funny, you know?" "can be?" you quipped, unable to hide your grin. "i thought it was the funniest person you knew, hm?" you tugged at this shirt, bringing his cheek to your lips.

your hand found his lower back, rubbing sweetly. "have you finished halving the tomatoes? i think the rice should be done by now." you thought aloud, peering over to the opposite end of the counter, seeing the steam pour out of the cooker. "mhm. almost." he murmured, feeling his neck and face warm. you turned to look at him, seeing the all-too-familiar avoidant gaze and awkwardly readjusting of his posture, topped off with a sharp inhale through his nostrils. you smiled knowingly, wrapping your arms around his waist, looking up at him. "did i blink and suddenly twenty-four year old jiyong showed up?" "stop it." he murmured, prolonging that last syllable. "you were so cute back then—" "—am i not cute now?" "hush. let me say my case." his face scrunched up with his smile, landing his forehead against yours. "we didn't know bullshit about anything. you were so keen to please. in more ways that one." he buried his face in your neck, making you laugh, skin hot against yours as your hands traveled up his back. "you're going to kill me." he muttered. "you know," you said to him. "there's not a boring day with you."

arguments aren't non-existent. when they occurred, you both knew each other well enough to take whatever course of action necessary: talking it out, or if things still felt too hot, taking a breather. you trusted each other to know things would mend, no matter if it was immediate or after some hours of silence. the only exception was if one happened before he had to travel for work—he squashed that shit like a bug. he learned that lesson the hard way in his mid-twenties, thinking he could hold out and carry a grudge to prove a point over some petty argument, only to fly home during the first two-day break on tour, knocking on your door when he knew you were home from work. jiyong couldn't live with it, being hundreds if not thousands of miles away from you, knowing something was pestering your mind, or hurt was ruminating somewhere inside you. no relationship is perfect, but he would be damned if he didn't at least try—especially through the ruckus you've endured from being with someone as famous as him. to jiyong, its the least he could do. he feels fortunate the universe led him to a spouse who wants to handle things with care as much as he does—to move mutually and maturely.

when he misses you, its palpable. whether it be when you leave the passenger's seat after he drops you off at work, or when you can't come with him to new york fashion week, he feels it. as do you. its never nice to wake up to an empty house, or an unfamiliar hotel room, but you make due. texts suffice as much as it can if you can't facetime, making you grin to yourself at your desk: Do you like it? he sent over a mirror selfie and staff-taken photos of him in a chanel ensemble he wore to a runway show in what was his afternoon and your early morning, hearting the one where he looked a little caught off guard. I do! Your hair color clashes with the outfit, though you typed back, stifling your laughter at his response ten minutes later: I'm not coming home. I'm laughing too much at my desk you're going to get me in trouble, you responded, only to have to put your hand over your mouth and muffle yourself. Stop laughing at my misery

jiyong texted you throughout the night for you to read in the morning: photos of his food, Here's the beer I paid way too much for, asking about the cats, and selfies of him in any state: one eye open with the other closed as his makeup artist does his eyeshadow; him pretending to smoke his lighter; one where nothing but his eyes and forehead are visible with the car window down halfway, a glimpse of the empire state building behind him with the accompanying Do you know where I am right now; I think we should have gotten married here; to the most recent I miss you a lot my baby. Call me when you wake up sent an hour ago. it was early morning for you and early evening for jiyong—you swiped right on his last message: Good morning from my side of the world; Are you at your hotel? Make sure you're outside in about 10 min. I'm going to have breakfast on the balcony, we can look at the same sky together

jiyong was out to dinner with his staff, excusing himself from the table when your texts came through. he stepped outside, your phone vibrating after you took your first bite of toast. he felt his sinuses loosen, his eyes misty at the sound of your voice on the other end of the line. it hadn't even been twelve hours since he last heard you, but he got worked up nonetheless: "hello? jiyong, can you hear me?" "yeah, honey. i can hear you," he nodded, blinking hard. "i have—i have the wifi. i'm outside. out to dinner." he swallowed. "what does the sky look like for you? its getting dark here. central park is across the street, and i think i see the moon over one of the trees." "hmm," you thought aloud, leaning to your left. "its early here. the sun hasn't come over the building yet. but the sky is clear. its nice today." "yeah?" he smiled, his vision blurry. "thats—thats good. i'm glad, honey." he nodded, looking down at the sidewalk pavement. "listen, uh . . . you need to stop being randomly poetic over text." "randomly poetic?" "like—like what you said about looking at the same sky, or something." his mind was scrambled. you heard him sniffle. "it hit me—it hit me a little hard."

"oh," your heart melted. "i'm . . . sorry?" you heard him laugh on the other side of the line, hiding your face behind your hand from no one. "its okay, honey. its okay." he assured with a stupidly big smile, despite you not being able to see. "i guess what i'm trying to say is, i don't know how i got so lucky." he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. "and my plane can't come fast enough, you know?" "i know." you nodded, looking down at the floor, corner of your lip caught between your teeth whilst your eyes watered. "you can't make me cry not even an hour after i wake up. you should pay a fine. or something." he let out a colorful laugh, not paying mind to the stares he got from passerbys. "thats fair." he said. "i have to finish breakfast and plate the cats' food. the car'll be coming in ten minutes." "you need to quit that damn job and spend all your time with me. i've been telling you for years now, baby."

you smirked to yourself, taking a bite of your toast. "listen, you keep crying over me like this," you said after taking a sip of water. "then maybe becoming a trophy wife is written in my fate." you joked, hearing him laugh. "i love you!" he exclaimed, smile evident in his voice. "i love you so fucking much, holy shit." "if you're still up by then, i'll call you during my lunch break." "oh, i'll be up. don't worry." he shook his head in reassurance, free hand on his hip. "i'll stay up for you. let me know when you get to work, okay? i love you." "i love you tenderly."

honey's taglist! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf, @infinetlyforgotten, @mesopotamism, @riddlerloveb0t, @pepsicolapussi

[haeoflii]

I feel like people rarely talk about how the yuus in the manga are counterparts/opposite of their respective Disney villains.

For example: (these are all from my memory so take it with a grain of salt)

Yuuken, the vice captain of his kendo club, is well respected among his fellow first years because he encourages them to do their best. People respected him so much that he was considered the reason the club did not disband. He was supportive of his juniors and was even willing to train one of them late into the night to help them improve.

While on the other hand, Riddle, who is the dormleader of heartslabyul, is disliked by the first years because he uses fear and control. Not only that, he expects utmost obedience and respect from his dormmates. He also gives out severe punishments towards those who break the Queen’s rules, no matter how insignificant they may seem.

Their similarities are that both of them are serious (?) leaders who only want the best for their juniors. One uses encouragement while the other uses punishment.

As for Yuuka, she's really sociable with other people and gets along with her judo members at her school. She's someone who is really diligent. She's also someone who is similar to Jack. She believes in competing fair and square, and not using underhand tactics to win.

While Leona doesn't really get along with most people and is considered "lazy" by some people. He's willing to do anything when he puts his mind on it, even if he's playing dirty and hurting others who are in his way, to achieve his goal.

Their similarities are they're confident in their skill and they're both passionate in their sports (judo for yuuka and spelldrive for Leona). Both of them kept on fighting even though they were heavily outmatched (Yuuka vs leona's OB and Leona vs Malleus)

Yuuta is a compassionate young talented chef who cares for the wellbeing of his friends. He doesn't just eat food as a necessity but simply savoring the whole experience of eating. He also has this almost innocent look to him. He's willing to help others without expecting anything in return.

Azul, is a sketchy scheming businessman who paved his way to the top through hard work from a younger age. He keeps track about the amount and the nutrition of food when he's eating. He also has this shady scammer vibes. Everything that Azul does is fully calculated and ensures it only advantages himself while leaving the other party fruitless.

Their similarities is that both of them are raised by a parent who runs a restaurant. Both are foodies/have a knowledge about food. Both are hard-workers. Both are intelligent and a strategist (yuuta figuring out how Azul's um works and planned the whole "destroy Azul's contracts"). Both are pretty persuasive(?) (yuuta: Jack and Leona)

Since I've only seen pictures of her, my guess for the new Yuu is that she's someone who is free-spirited, cheerful and maybe a bit of a troublemaker.

Yuuna/Yuina is a gyaru. Gyarus are known for being non-conformist and rebelling against Japanese social (freeing herself from the patriarchy and Japan's expectations on women). Her outfit and overall appearance is very loud, vibrant and stands out. Gyarus are usually known to be cheery, loud and not afraid to speak their mind.

Jamil is someone who longs to be free but doesn't do anything about it (until book 4 but for the entirety of the time he's not letting kalim do anything himself and making him incompetent). He is someone who tries not to stand out too much and stays in the shadows despite wanting to be in the spotlight as well. Jamil is reserved, negative and bottles his thoughts and feelings up.

Their similarities is that both of them want to break free from societal norms and the expectations that were placed on them just because they happen to be born as a woman/as a servant. Both want to be able to express themselves and be their true selves.

these are just theories as well as it's written for fun so don't take what I wrote too seriously!!!

[cobaltperun]

The Catalyst - Stronger On Your Own

WandaNat x Female Reader

Story summary: A peaceful life could never be an option, especially not when backing out of a fight means leaving your loved ones to fight. It still doesn't change the fact that you hate having these powers.

Chapter summary: A reunion with an old friend brings you back into the life you tried to leave behind. How do you deal with once again being in the same room with the woman you once loved? The same woman that left you to die?

Spotify Playlist

Masterlist / Next Part

Word Count: 4.2k

-Self-destruction is the name of the game, I say I've had enough, but still want it all again-

A dusty old warehouse? Check. A chair inches away from a hole? Check. Ropes and standard tools that could be used for torture on the table? Check. Two thugs with barely functional brains guarding their old boss? Double check. Overall, boring, regular, perfectly average experience on these missions.

Annoyance, that's what this man was. Just another thug that got powerful enough to feel like he's untouchable. Just another man thinking he caught her, boasting to himself that he outsmarted the infamous Black Widow.

Typical.

Well, it certainly made her job much easier.

It wouldn't take long for Luchkov to start talking, feeling like he was in control, like he didn't walk right into her web. “I thought General Solohob is in charge of the export business,” Natasha faked being clueless, not being up to date on the information.

“Solohob? A bagman, a front. Your outdated information betrays you. The famous Black Widow turns out to be just another pretty face,” Luchkov taunted her, underestimated her, believed having her tied to a chair would be enough to be safe. He turned away from her with hands in his pockets, full of himself.

“You really think I’m pretty?” and she let him believe all of that. Even when one of the two thugs Luchkov brought along grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth open. Nothing they were doing would have scared her even when she was just starting out, let alone now. She’d just have to wash her face later.

“Tell Lermentov we don’t need him to move the tanks,” Luchkov took his sweet time getting to the table. Or rather that was as fast as he could move without running out of breath. “Tell him he is out. Well,” he took pliers and turned to look at her. “You may have to write it down,” he couldn’t even threaten properly.

A phone suddenly ringing did catch her by surprise, especially when it turned out it was for her, and Natasha was fairly sure Coulson was the one who called and was now threatening Luchkov into handing Natasha the phone. She didn’t show it in any way, but she wasn’t happy with this interruption, she was on a job, and all this was doing was making the job take more time than necessary.

Still, she’d hear Coulson out. But it better be important. Luchkov handed her the phone, and she held it on her shoulder. Apparently, they weren’t stupid enough to untie her hands.

“We need you to come in,” she slightly frowned at that, the tone of Coulson’s voice worried her a bit, but perhaps that was just her paranoia.

“Are you kidding? I’m working,” surely it wasn’t that urgent. This would have taken her another ten, maybe fifteen minutes.

“This takes precedence,” Coulson remained persistent, and for a moment Natasha was reminded of last year, where it felt like the whole world was turned on its head in one week. Aliens, monsters, technologies and weapons she had no hopes of matching even with the super soldier serum the Red Room gave her.

She pushed those thoughts out of her head. This wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. Instead, she pushed back against Coulson. “I’m in the middle of an interrogation, and this moron is giving me everything,” it didn’t even matter that he was right in front of her, hearing every word she spoke. By this point Natasha knew the job was finished, the flow of the interrogation was stopped, Luchkov was no longer in control, she wouldn’t get what she needed.

“I don’t give everything,” Luchkov stammered to the thug on his left and Natasha just looked at him almost unable to believe how stupid the man was.

“Look, you can’t pull me out of this right now,” maybe Luchkov was that stupid to fall right back into her trap if he played her cards right.

“Natasha, Barton’s been compromised,” in a single moment everything changed, and this job no longer mattered.

The decision was instantaneous. “Let me put you on hold,” she said and the moment Luchkov took the phone she kicked him in the leg and headbutted him. He went down, dazed and taken by surprise as she got up and, while still tied to the chair, made quick work of his two thugs, dodging their attempts to hit her and using the chair against them. She fought on autopilot, breaking the chair on one of the thugs. There was only one thing on her mind, Clint being compromised, and her not knowing anything, not where he was, not even if he was alive or for how long he would remain alive.

The lack of attention to the fight allowed one of the thugs to grab her, but it didn’t matter, she twisted his arm and knocked him out, focusing just for a moment on ending this whole thing and immediately heading back so she could rescue Clint.

As she tied a chain around Luchkov’s leg and pushed him over the edge she resolved to do anything to get Clint back. No matter what, she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Natasha didn’t even spare the man a second look, she just turned around, took her high heels and phone and headed for the exit.

“Where’s Barton now?” she asked, anxious to be caught up to speed as quickly as possible. From what she knew Clint was guarding the Tesseract, so something must have gone very wrong if he was compromised.

“We don’t know,” that was close to the worst answer she could get and that familiar dread set in once again. What would happen by the time they managed to locate Clint?

She didn’t have the luxury to dwell on the possibilities. “But he’s alive?”

“We think so,” yet another uncertainty. “We’ll brief you on everything when you get back. But first, we need you to talk to the big guy,” Coulson told her, and Natasha figured this was it, the Avengers Initiative was being restarted. And that also meant being reminded of you once again when S.H.I.E.L.D. fails to get you to come back.

Still, she wasn’t the best person to talk Stark into joining, and as far as she was aware Fury would handle Rogers. “Coulson, you know that Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me.”

“Oh, I’ve got Stark! You get the big guy,” the moment Coulson said that she stopped, understanding exactly who the big guy was.

“My God,” she whispered in Russian, doing her best to suppress the last year’s incident from her mind.

Coulson didn’t hang up though, and Natasha didn’t like that one bit. “We also need you to get L/N,” she froze, nearly dropping her high heels.

She felt like something squeeze her chest, but she pushed it to the back of her head. “She won’t come,” it was naïve of Fury to even consider you for the Avengers initiative. You wouldn’t even hear them out, and you especially wouldn’t hear her out. It’s been almost three years since she last saw you face to face, three years since that cursed mission that ruined everything between the two of you, and you abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D.

“She will if we send you,” Coulson was always too optimistic, too willing to hope for the best. Frankly, it should have been him going after you, after all he was the one who recruited you so many years ago.

Natasha was more realistic, aware that she was actually the worst person to go and meet up with you. Countless times she rewatched what little recordings there were of the mission, desperately wishing she could yell at her younger self to turn around, to go back and reach you, save you, everything else be damned, but there was no changing the past.

“Where is she?” she asked, willing to at least give it a try. You wouldn’t turn hostile, that much she could still be sure of.

“You know where,” she heard sympathy in Coulson’s voice, maybe even pity. It was true though, she knew where you were, she’s always known where you were, not that you were trying to hide. She just tried to suppress that information from her mind.

~X~

You frowned in your sleep, memories plaguing your mind once more. Always the same, always the same cold eyes, the same red helmet, the same purple cape, the same destruction and rage, unstoppable, focus solely on erasing everything in his path.

A monster driven by rage and grief, too powerful to be stopped by mere humans. Metal constructions twisted and broke apart, falling to ruin in his rage. The small tow was on fire, burning down and disappearing in front of your eyes. He didn’t directly set things on fire, but he might as well have done it. He tore everything that had metal in it apart, breaking things and making them explode. As the flames came closer to you, you went and raised your hand toward the man, etching his face, his eyes into your mind.

"Stop!" you screamed, abruptly jumping to your feet, shaking as your hands lit up in blue flames. Your eyes widened, the flashes of the nightmare still fresh in your mind, as you extinguished the flames you unwillingly lit, and sighed. There was no way you could go back to sleep now.

You glanced at the clock; it was barely past midnight. You sighed, ready for a sleepless night, the cabin you spent the past two and a half years in felt suffocating tonight, so you went outside and sat down at the table on your porch. The dense forest looked ominously dark, with no lights anywhere around you, other than the moonlight, but you’ve gotten used to it. You appreciated the peace and quiet it brought, but tonight you just couldn’t find peace.  You were restless, and it annoyed you.

The sound of the night was suddenly disturbed by a familiar sound of a quinjet and you looked up just in time to see it flying toward your cabin and landing with perfect precision that ruled out damn near every agent.

You stood up, watching as the doors opened and Natasha Romanoff stepped onto the grass. You watched her, stuck between confusion and annoyance, but somehow it all vanished when she approached and you got to see her up close. It wasn’t the fact that she wasn’t in her uniform, or that there were clear signs of exhaustion on her face, it was her eyes that told you everything.

You didn’t greet her though, you just turned around, opening the doors and going inside, but the doors kept open were enough for her to get the message.

“I need you to come in,” Natasha said as she walked inside, immediately and instinctively taking every detail of your cabin in. The ways out, the distance to the nearest weapon, the small signs of life left everywhere, a nicked glass of water you didn’t finish before going to sleep, the newspaper neatly folded on the side of the table, the glaive hanging on the wall, always close enough for you to grab.

“You do?” you asked, leaning back against the table with your arms crossed. You studied her, feeling the tension already rising between you. She was uncomfortable and you were�� happy because of that. This wasn’t how you imagined your reunion after three years, not that you imagined anything. You would have been perfectly content with your life if you never saw her again.

“I do,” she didn’t explain it any further. Some things never change.

“I’m not in the mood to be depowered again, Romanoff,” you went through it once, it nearly cost you your life. Maybe it would have been better that way. The way it was right now, it cost you a lot more than your life. You were alive, but you lost the life you built, betrayed by the people you trusted and the woman you loved.

“That isn’t Fury’s intention,” you tried resisting her, you wanted so desperately to resist her, yet that look in her eyes, that desperation and fear, the storm inside her mind, they all made it difficult not to give in to whatever she demanded. This wasn’t Natasha you knew. She was frightened.

You should have kept questioning her, should have argued against coming with her, but you knew the decision was made the moment you saw that look in Natasha’s eyes. “Bathroom is to your left, I need five minutes,” just to grab essentials, change into something more appropriate for potential combat and then freshen up yourself to properly wake up.

Natasha looked like she needed a moment to herself a lot more than you did, and perhaps a bit of cold water would clear her mind enough.

There was no need to know exactly what was going on. Natasha was desperate enough to come to you, even if it was likely an order. Still, she came to you, after everything that happened, and you couldn’t ignore that.

You didn’t put on your old uniform, you no longer had it, instead you just went with civilian clothing, simple jacket, shirt and pants, and the moment Natasha stepped out of your bathroom you went in.

You finished freshening up a bit and grabbed a towel, and it immediately hit you. The familiar comforting scent of Natasha’s perfume, subtle, yet so definitively her own. “Fuck,” you cursed, giving up on drying your face with it and throwing the towel in the basket. You watched the towel with disdain, as if it was the towel’s fault that you suddenly felt at ease. You huffed, pushing the old feelings aside and just wiped your face dry with a clean towel.

When you stepped out you saw Natasha was already outside, not wanting to intrude on the peace you tried to build in this cabin with her presence, and you did your best to ignore how, despite the surface-level tension, right it felt when she was in the cabin with you. You took your bag and glaive and joined her in front of the cabin. “Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, letting Natasha take the lead. And she did it, without a single unnecessary word spoken.

~X~

To your surprise you didn’t go straight to where the helicarrier was at the moment. Instead you went to India. Still, it gave you enough time to get caught up to speed with things that happened. The Avengers Initiative, including Natasha, Clint, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner and Thor, as well as you. You paused when you reached the data on Banner, remembering last year. While you and Natasha didn’t meet up, Clint did pull you back into this whole mess and you went, keeping your distance but you were there in case Natasha needed backup.

You glanced toward her, wondering what was going through her mind, what got her to seek you out instead of sending Clint, or hell, Coulson. Whatever it was, it had to be bad for Natasha to be like this.

“I doubt you’d be this concerned over the Cube,” sure, she cared, but this was more than that. This was desperation, this was something you weren’t used to seeing from her.

Natasha sighed. “Clint’s been compromised,” and it all made sense now. You stood up on instinct, approaching her and reaching for her shoulder, but you stopped, turning away at the last second.

“You’ll get him back,” you left it at that, returning to the files and not speaking another word, even though the silence was deafening at times. Neither you nor Natasha said a single word for the rest of the flight, or as she met up with other agents in Calcutta and set up a plan to convince Banner to come with her.

You just stood by, taking note of the tension everywhere around you. This wasn’t just because of the dangers that came with trying to convince the Hulk to come aboard, this was more than that, this was the reality of being utterly outmatched hitting every single agent all at once. You sat near the comms and yet again your eyes found Natasha. She changed into a beautiful black dress and you forced yourself to look away, fearing the old emotions would reemerge, pushing aside the anger you felt because of her betrayal.

She went inside the old house, waiting for Banner to show up and you chose just to listen, to not get involved even if a fight broke out. You wouldn’t fight. You wouldn’t do anything unless the whole world was in danger.

About five minutes later Banner entered the shack and you listened to Natasha talking to him. Calm, steady, but with just the tiniest hint of fear buried deep under the mask she put on. None of the other agents here could have possibly caught it, Clint and Fury could, and you, apparently, still could, but no one else.

Unless she let someone else in over the past three years.

“Just you and me,” you heard Natasha saying, lying to Banner who correctly guessed the shack was surrounded.

“And your actress buddy? She a spy too? They start that young?” there was no animosity in his voice, not yet, but there was something a tiny bit eerie about his tone. It was too calm, like a calm before the storm, or a quiet rage waiting to be unleashed. Yeah, maybe that was more appropriate for his case.

“I did,” Natasha replied, and you got caught up in memories for a moment, remembering her opening up to you about the Red Room. And then, not even a month later, it all fell apart. The conversation between them continued, a back and forth that for once had Natasha putting in all of her effort to keep the situation under control. Armor piercing bullets wouldn’t even scratch the Hulk. “I’m here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? How’d they find me?” you heard a hint of that rage slipping through and sat up, now more alert of their conversation. The entrance to the shack was directly in front of you.

Yet Natasha regained control over the situation, at least for now. “We never lost you, Doctor. We’ve kept our distance, even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent,” her voice didn’t waver, almost as if she was trying to soothe him. Even if it probably affected you more than it affected Banner.

“Why?” or maybe it worked on him too, as that rage turned more into confusion.

Clearly Banner still hasn’t met Fury, that man was in a league of his own when it came to his own methods and reasons. “Nick Fury seems to trust you. But now we need you to come in.”

“What if I say no?” Banner asked, once again proving he didn’t know Fury, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking such questions.

“I’ll persuade you,” she just… you knew that tone, the same seductive tone she used on her targets, and you glared at the comms, annoyed a lot more than you had any right to be.

“And what if the Other Guy says no?” you once again got alert against your will, waiting anxiously for even the smallest hint of danger.

You weren’t going to fight.

You weren’t going to fight.

“You’ve been more than a year without an incident. I don’t think you want to break that streak,” Natasha remained as in control as she could be, given the situation.

“Well, I don’t every time get what I want,” there was a clear threat in those words, a warning, and an acceptance of the circumstances he was in.

“Doctor, we’re facing a potential global catastrophe,” Natasha chose to plead to his sense of humanity. His empathy, or what was left of it. Considering what he went through you’d be surprised if he had any desire to help or protect people. And yet he was a doctor in a poor part of town. Necessity? Certainly. But you weren’t quite sure what kind of necessity drove him to do it.  

Banner chuckled, though it wasn’t out of amusement. “Oh, those I actively try to avoid.”

“This is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet,” and then there was that. The stolen Cube, Tesseract. Fury was desperate. From what you read this team, if it even got formed, would be volatile, clashing ideals, big personalities, tensions. Nothing short of a miracle would get all of these people on board.

A miracle or…

You glanced toward the shack for the first time, approximately to where Natasha could be. Maybe that was Fury’s miracle.

“What does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?” despite the tension you felt you still smirked a bit at that.

“He wants you to find it. It’s been taken. It emits a Gamma signature that’s too weak for us to trace. No one knows Gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that’s where I’d be,” Natasha explained in an indifferent tone, cold and calculated. Basically stating that this was a meeting caused by desperation, and that it had nothing to do with Banner being the Hulk.

That didn’t sound like Fury. Sure, Banner could be the best person for the job, but the Hulk wasn’t something Fury wouldn’t take into account.

“So, Fury isn’t after the monster?” Banner questioned, almost unwilling to believe that.

“Not that he’s told me,” even if all the signs pointed toward the opposite.

“And he tells you everything?” no, Fury barely says anything to anyone. No one but Fury can know everything.

“Talk to Fury, he needs you on this,” Natasha didn’t answer, she didn’t need to.

“He needs me in a cage?” Banner immediately countered.

“No one’s going to put you in a-“ Natasha tried to reassure him.

“Stop lying to me!” Banner yelled, slamming his hands on the table.

You moved without thinking, crossing the distance and reaching the entrance in less than a second. “Don’t move,” you pointed your glaive at Banner, ready to fight. You didn’t take your eyes off him, you didn’t notice the tears in Natasha’s eyes, but you could hear the subtlest shift in her breathing and it was enough for you. “Unless you want me to fry your brain,” you kept your weapon raised as you closed the distance and pusher the table to the side, putting yourself right between Natasha and Banner. He seemed more amused.

“That’s not a good idea,” he told you, but he didn’t move. And it wasn’t for his sake, it was for your own and Natasha’s, because the Other Guy, as he called the Hulk, wouldn’t let you kill him.

“The best I can come up with,” you weren’t stupid. You knew you had nothing that could stop the Hulk, that you had no chance of beating him in a fight. You could still probably stall enough to get Natasha out of here. Even if Banner had all the advantage at this distance. You had no idea how quickly he could transform, but chances were that you and Natasha were both a split second from being blood splatters on the walls, even if you were both alert and ready to react.

“Stand down, L/N,” Natasha warned you, and you wanted to, you really did. You made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t get involved yet here you were.

Before you could answer Banner raised his hands. “I’m sorry, that was mean,” he actually smiled and looked over your shoulder at Natasha. “I just wanted to see what you’d do,” he took a few steps back, giving Natasha and you a slightly bigger window to react. “Why don’t we do this the easy way, where you don’t use that,” he pointed at your weapons of choice and then at himself. “And the Other Guy doesn’t make a mess? Okay? Natasha?”

You dared to look back at Natasha, finally noticing the tears in her eyes. “Stand down. We’re good here,” she spoke to the rest of the agents.

“Just you and me?” Banner seemed almost amused by the situation.

“Does it make a difference?” you asked and he shrugged, as if agreeing that, no, it really didn’t make a difference. He stepped outside and headed toward the agents, silently accepting to come along.

“That was reckless,” Natasha scolded you and you looked to the side, not quite willing to look her in the eyes. “L/N,” she raised her voice just a tiny bit, just enough to show you that she was actually angry at you for putting yourself in danger. “What if something happened to you?”

You slowly looked back at her, not quite sure you heard her correctly. “You did not just say that,” you laughed, even if your laughter was hollow, almost mocking her. “You know what, I don’t care,” you shook your head and magnetized your glaive to your back before heading back to the quinjet.

A/N: That's the first chapter. So... anyone interested in a taglist?

Masterlist / Next Part

[zzencat]

how you can be the light for your person when things are dark ⏳

🍀🌴THE RITUAL: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

When they get too lost, will you lead them back? These may seem like small struggles, but it has a huge impact on your person’s character and how they hold themselves back. (Some piles purposely do not have an “extras” section.)

Choose wisely. Applicable to future lover or spouse.

————————————

1 | “slow down” - chase atlantic

you’ll need to be that person that provides a sense of security for them. You’ll remind them why they do the things that they do and who they’re doing it for, what their purpose is in all of this

You’ll be someone who is extremely reliable, someone they can count on; to do this, you’ll need to be secured yourself, grounded, and discliplined, along with your own goals to chase in this lifetime. i also see you reaching out first to see why they’re struggling.

i also see you reaching out first because this person might show these negative signs subtly or through the bad qualities of leadership (i.e: if they’re a boss who doesn’t usually get mad at employees, but they suddenly do out of stress and having too much work.) your person doesn't want to appear weak and will push their feelings aside to move on. you’ll help them keep in check, just make sure to balance yourself as well. avoid going to extremes like being too hard on yourself or them.

you’re very nurturing and definitely CAN end up helping others more than yourself, so pls make sure to keep yourself in check. your person also needs to know that you’re okay.

i also think your person tends to be one who is assertive or one who could be in a position of command or higher power/authority than others, so they could be burnt out or frustrated

you’ll buy things for them (i.e: walking by a bakery and buying something for your person) or do acts of service. You might even take them out to eat or check up on their health, take them shopping. overall, spending your time with this person and making it known that you’ll be patient and that you’re someone they can open up to, if needed. also lots of earth energy in this pile or connection

as long as you make it clear that you are there for your person, they’ll feel safe and will appreciate it more than you know. (this also gives very heavy secretary vibes- ayyy shout out to the kdrama “what’s wrong with secretary Kim” hahaha)

your person might be discouraged because they start projects or gain things in areas that don’t really benefit them in the long run or won’t have anything to do with their future or alignment. your person is generally a fun, passionate person---it’s their spontaneity, zest for life, easy amusement for things that don’t matter that will get them down. remind them of their purpose and what they strive to be, the people they hope to inspire, and the hearts they want to move. tell them to slow down, to take it easy, and to not to take more pressure than they need.

———————————————

2 | “whips and chains excite me” (??)

one of you in the relationship needs to take care of their health more, hydrate often, and maybe declutter your living spaces a bit. i see that brushing these off could build up into something whack af over time. once on of you declutters your space or finds somewhere comfortable, yet clean and inspiring, it’ll help you declutter your mind as well.

i think your person is a bit of a loner or they’re not one to share their thoughts to anybody, no matter how innovative or creative they are, so communication is definitely important here. encourage them to come out of their shell more or talk to you. you’d be suprised how easy it is, despite a bit of hesitance and depending on how much trust in built in this relationship.

there’s a lotttttt of talking involved. you gotta take this person outside more!!! get them involved with life and all that it has to offer (pressure ‘em to go outside if needed- there is MEGA introvert energy here and it needs to be balanced out)

your person might deal with a lot of indeciveness, procrastination, confusion, and overthinking. they’re very open minded, weird (hopefully in a good way), unconventional, captivating, and naive. there’s a good sense of justice and fairness here. be creative with them and hype them up!! get to know them, be empathetic, EMOTIONALLY SUPPORTIVE, and hear em out.

extra bits n pieces: "stop living in the dark,” “get back into the real world,” def prominent air sign placements, BIG thinker, computer science, nerd, rihanna “s&m” lyrics, unconventional mind, might have adhd or some form of distracted thinking (but in a genius kind of way)

lil teddy note: i’ve never gotten so many major arcana cards in a spread (yo person is a totally different, complex kind of gem)

——————————————

3 | *splashes bucket of water on you*

your person might have prominent fire sign placements and they don’t know where to direct this energy and passion. They’ll need a bit of water energies around them to get them to chill out. they might struggle with ego, but that’s bc they’re scared and everything is unknown to them. it’s almost like this is their soul’s first life and they’re learning to navigate things. i think they can also be a bit too much, like too energetic, excited, or banter-y, maybe too competitive and wanting to win.

this is an odd suggestion but you may have to teach your person to get along with their friends or family (??) they could have difficulties getting along with them so you’ll have to show them how to be a friend. you’ll definitely show them how to express their love, feelings, and be vulnerable. it’s a bit hard, but a lot of these issues are because they have hella unused energy and they’re just excited to use it.

they want to love and be loved, but they don’t know how or where to start. your person also sounds very extroverted or an extrovert who’s very obviously hiding it because their passionate personalities haven’t been received well while growing up.

i also think your person is stubborn, strong willed, and determined. Definitely a guard/protector sort of person. they might be good at sports or physical activities. they seem very self assured but they might be hesitant in making some decisions bc they’ve always been pretty bad at timing (ie: like a corny joke at a bad time, but in a naive and innocent manner). they really have a knack for making their presence known unintentionally.

pile 3, i think yall have the ability to adapt to your person’s quirks, even if you might be shy of them at first. but you’ll help each other become comfortable with each other’s little traits. especially if there are aspects you don’t like of yourself or them with the same issue, you’ll help each other grow to love em and naturally accept yourselves as you are. I don’t think I need to advise you much; like water, you’ll shape and shift into what you’ll naturally become to support your partner. It’s really cute I like this energy

extra bits n pieces: charming, charismatic assholes, fun to be around, attention on them wherever they go, jock and shy nerd vibes, just misunderstood, puppy vibes

[jweekgoji]

.Seen your tiny motorcycle cybertronion reader. Can l ask for like the complete opposite. Just a massive hulking reader and the TFO characters reactions, to put it in perspective, reader is like only a few inches smaller then darkwing without a cog. Please?

TFO chars/Reader [hcs]

tw: none. word count: ~1,3k additional tags: cybertronian!reader, massive!reader, gender-neutral!reader, cogless!reader chars included: B-127, Orion Pax, Elita-One, D-16, Sentinel Prime, Darkwing, Airachnid a/n: thank you for your request and your patience~

B-127

He's a magnet for bigger bots. The little 🐝 managed to befriend at least 3 new bots that ended up being taller than him, so it's no surprise he will stick to you like a tiny coala. Oh, imagine how much bigger you can get once you have your t-cog.

If you're stuck with him in the waste management, I can see him preferring to sleep on top of you instead of on the conveyor belt. It doesn't even matter if you let him do that or not; once you two fall into your recharge, the next thing you see when you wake up is his face. right. in front. of you.

And it's not really his fault! Seriously! Even though his attention span is kinda short, he does understand your message, 'stay on your side, and don't get too close'. His only problem is his own behavior when he's unconscious. In the previous headcanons B-127 is very talkative when he dreams about something, so there's a big possibility that 🐝  also moves a lot in his sleep.

↑ So yeah. It doesn't really matter if you mind his clingy behavior or not; by the end of the night, the little yellow mech rolls over, whines and calls out for you, like a kid missing his favorite, big teddy bear.

The other interesting detail I see in TFO is the first fight between Death Trackers and High Guard/Main Four.  🐝 gets on top of Orion while the latter in his vehicle mode, and that gives me an idea how B-127 might act with reader that is much bigger than him.

↑ B-127's affection is not only shown through the quality time. Yes, if you're not already friends with him, he will be so excited to get to know you better. I mean, how many cogless bots this big ever exist? Not to mention, he has never gotten the chance to socialize. Poor thing was stuck for Primus knows how long, so excuse him when he gets so chatty with you at first, even though your dialogue is really one-sided at first.

“How did you get this big?”

“Can you reach for the top of the ceiling??”

“If I consume as much energon as you, will I get this big too??!” — 🐝.

↑ The more comfortable he gets with you and vice versa, the more he will want to be as close as he can get.

↑ When he has troubles reaching for something, he will get sad, until a light bulb appears above his head when he thinks of ‘oh wait, I have my best friend—’, and he's already running off to find you.

Overall, B-127 is really amazed by you, but if you think about it...he's just really enthusiastic about everything and everyone. 🐝 probably jumps and climbs on you whenever he has a chance, just to sit on your shoulder and ask you to carry him around; maybe even throw him into the air and catch up. He's really, really...touch starved.

Orion Pax

You two are some sort of similar, but in a little different way than one might think at first. You're very, very— easy to spot. In Orion's case, he's famous for making his pranks and running to the library, only to get smacked later by the guards or supervisors when he starts a fight with the others. In your case, it's really simple. In the crowd of cogless miners, you tower over any of them, and only supervisors can match you in this one.

Orion is really friendly, and he has no trouble making friends with other bots even if you're not interested. Maybe, like Elita, you're dedicated to your job and want to get to the top of your ranks, but it's really hard when that blue-and-red bot follows you around to throw a joke or two. He's dedicated too, you know!

I feel terrible for both you and D-16, since being around Orion Pax means only one thing. Lots of new, unbelievable experiences. Sometimes, this new unbelievable experience means getting punched for trying to intervene.

↑ But you're more lucky than D-16. If you think about it, D-16 is strong enough to hold Darkwing's punch, and it doesn't look like the supervisor tried to be 'gentle' on any of them (and that's all while D was two times smaller than Darkwing!).

↑ Now imagine Orion running to you every time the troublemaker is pursued by your oh so angry supervisors! Pax hides behind your much bigger frame, and if he had been a little faster, he'd successfully get them off his tail, but unfortunately...they saw him, so once Darkwing marches towards you to yank that annoying miner from behind you, the other big boy only stops half his way.

If only it was one of the other tiny cogless, he'd deal with both of them once and for all for even slightly disrespecting him. But once you cross your servos over your chassis, showing that you're not going to back away, he will step aside. This time, Orion was lucky to have you around, but that doesn't mean you will always be there to help him...

↑ Don't get me wrong, Orion is not that bot who will run away every time the consequences of his actions are getting to him. He understands that you have your own goals, and he doesn't really want to get in your way. 🚚 will apologize profusely if you get in trouble because of him, but he can't promise you that he won't do it again...but that is usual Orion Pax for you.

Elita-One

Realistically, it's hard to impress Elita. Mainly because she's the type who is married to her job, so as long as it's not related to the scores of her team, you will not get anything more than spared glances here and there.

↑ I think it's a big rarity for someone like cogless reader to tower over other cogless bots, so it's natural for her to first act like ‘how the—?’ before she brushes it off, focusing on the more important stuff to do. This is a blessing and a curse at the same time, since you probably hoped to at least impress her in some sort of way. Your co-workers and friends love to hang out with you and lean on you to rest a little, but no— everyone but her loves you! How unfair.

It will take a lot of effort and work to catch her attention. Firstly, don't become trouble. Secondly, be natural (take notes from Orion!).

↑ Elita, like a natural leader, really appreciates traits like determination or inspiration. There are two possible situations when she might grow closer to you: 1) where you are leader of your own group, leading the other bots through dangerous mines. 2) where you're her second in command.

It is important to use your quick thinking and stay cool during dangerous situations, so when the explosive accident in the mines happened, you were the one who saved everyone, not leaving other injured bots behind.

She was scared as hell when she saw that you didn't leave the mines with her when she clearly ordered you to leave. But seeing you walk out with your teammates safe helped her spark to calm down a bit.

Maybe you're not so bad yourself after all.

D-16

↑ there's something similar to this reaction, when he meets you for the first time, hehe.

 D-16 is one of the tallest in the group of cogless bots, or so he thought that, until you show up.

There's something that clicks inside his mind when he sees you, and he just can't take his optics off you until Orion elbows him in his side, making the silver-colored mech hiss and rub the spot with a painful expression. You didn't catch him staring, did you? That would be too awkward.

I think D-16, just like Elita doesn't actually mind your size, but he's more open towards his feelings, and it's even harder to hide when you two get closer.

For him, short or big, you are still someone he wants to protect from any harm. He's kind of selfless in this one, ready to grab you and pull away from any possible dangerous situation. And if he can hide Orion somewhere, it's so much harder to do the same for you, so he will bring his poor negotiation skills and somehow not get you two in the end of the list for promotion.

↑But if you're a peaceful and hardworking bot, just like him, I really hope that it's you who will protect D-16 this time. It's just hard not to get defensive every time he has to be punished for something he didn't even do. Justice for D-16!

He will be surprised at first when someone stands up for him against your supervisors, so he is speechless for a good time. Slowly, he will warm up to that new feeling, which is...actually very nice, being on the receiving side.

You two always look after each other, and it's easy to become good friends with him. D-16, used to the role of protector in his group, still has some habits when he sticks his nose somewhere where he shouldn't be, so you should definitely look after him.

Sentinel Prime

Sentinel takes a good look through your profile when he gets notification about the group of protororms being created. One of them is unusually too big for someone cogless.

His reaction would not be really positive at first, mainly because he has a superiority complex. I hc him as really jealous of Prime's not only because of their status but because they also reminded him that they will always be higher than him, in both senses. He was smaller than them, which makes him feel even less of himself (despite the fact that they never did anything to insult him). Sentinel hates when others look down at him, and thankfully, you're not tall enough to tower over him...

↑but he probably gets paranoid because of you. what if one day another cogless not shows up but this time both stronger and bigger? no,no, such a silly thoughts. there's no way someone can be better than him.

If you somehow get his attention, enough to make him personally approach you, sort of like D-16 and Orion's situation, he will be so pissed off behind the scene! Sentinel would never show it clearly, mainly because he has to maintain that perfect leader image, but it's hard not to notice how the corner of his mouth twitches or how he shakes your servo a little too tight...

But Sentinel would not be Sentinel if he didn't try to use everything for his own business. You're strong, tall, and can do a much better job than your short coworkers! A perfect worker, and that one bot everyone should look up to for inspiration!

Darkwing

Another bot who gets so pissed off just because of the way you were created, even though you had no power over it, but that's just your usual life as cogless on society built by Sentinel...

Darkwing is a pain in the aft for most miners; he will bark orders at them and throw some insults, but for some reason, he's a little more scared to approach you directly.

↑ Your supervisor might give you this glance as he gossips with his coworker, and whenever you look over your shoulder to find who keeps staring at you, he immediately looks away, as if he didn't do that for like a good hour or so.

It's not hard to notice that his behavior towards you is different. Whenever your friend gets scolded by him, he will turn to you to do the same— and he just mutters a quick “yes, you too, back to work...cogless”.

Darkwing doesn't look like a good fighter, to me. He mostly shows his strength against weak and defenseless bots, and he knows that they have no chances against him. He is easily startled and can be stopped by cogless who dare to go against him. There's a tiny part of him that understands that, so he will bite you with his words instead of hitting.

Airachnid

She's pretty damn tall too, as she is half a head taller than Sentinel, but that is mostly due to her spider legs. Even then, 🕷️ lady has her optics down at you, and her presence is already sending chills down your spine, despite her not mumbling a single word.

There's not too many opportunities for you to meet her; at least I can't find her being interested in miners, unless it is related to her job, like one of the tasks Sentinel gave her.

It can be like, that Sentinel suspects you of being a possible rebel, or you somehow got too close to revealing the truth, so he sends her to spy on you. Maybe she meets you when she accompanies Sentinel during one of those fan-meeting situations.

Anyway, Airachnid is more similar to Elita in this case. Spider lady is hard to read, especially since she always stays quiet, only occasionally giving you a half smirk or laughing at something, making the situation even more awkward than it is.

There's a really tiny possibility that if you prove yourself to be loyal to Sentinel Prime, obedient and hardworking, given the fact that you already received your promotion, she might start thinking about taking you under her wing.

↑ If you get a cog, what kind of alt mode will you get? A tank? A jet? Maybe a ship or train? Only Primus knows, but she's a little excited to find it out if only Sentinel puts down his pride just a little and agrees to that.

[paperbackpanic]

Hiii, if you’re still open to requests, may I suggest either Tim/masky or EJ (or anyone you prefer really) with a super femme S/O who’s just really crass. Like they love all things cute and pink but they’ll take every opportunity to say the most outrageous thing they can think of

EJ and Masky with a hyper fem s/o who says outrageous stuff

A/n: hii!! Omg I loved this request specially because I'm kinda like that? I mean my mouth sometimes runs faster than my mind and I end up saying outrageous things but it is not, like, on purpose most of the time and I really like dressing super fem! I also really love writing for EJ and Masky :D. Sorry for the long rant I'm kinda lonely and need to run my "mouth" out a bit, anyway I hope you enjoy!!

A bit of a content warning for NSFW and generally gross topics but nothing too explicit.

Eyeless Jack

🎀 honestly you too contrast so much is kinda comical. EJ is the dark serious silent type and you are a cute and pink agent of chaos who honestly can talk a lot, specially considering you take every opportunity to say absurds.

🎀 Is pretty hard to surprise/get him off guard but when he first meet you he was pretty surprised, he thought you would be the shy "feminine energy" super polite girl you being really crass caught him a lil bit off guard

🎀 He isn't bothered by the things you say, he honestly find the fact that you're crass quite interesting

🎀 Yap sessions Yap sessions!! You'll let all of your wildest thoughts run out of your mouth and EJ will sit and listen. He won't judge but sometimes a thing you said will generate a long philosophical discussion about why you think that and he usually says something like "you do/say that just because you like to go against the norm or is it something deeper?" to start it off

🎀 You asked him once if his semen could be dyed with food dye BEFORE it came out of his body. It technically can? But like only because you can "tint" the urethra a bit with the dye but it involves a catheter and he's not going to put one in his dick because you want to see how much food dye would take to make his cum neon green. No matter how much you tried to convince him he won't budge ☹️☹️

🎀 You know that scene in some random old movie that I don't know the name with Marilyn Monroe that goes something like that:

"I know more than 200 ways to kill a man"

"You could glue a jar filled with rats to someone's face and then light a torch on the bottom so it would start to heat up and the rats would try to run away by chewing the person face off ☺️"

"201"

That's you two.

🎀 The only time when he will ask you to shut up and be polite is when you need it for your safety. I mean not everyone likes crassness and the most violent creepypastas would kill you without a second thought if you irritate them too much so he'll make sure you know beforehand when it's dangerous for you to be your true self

🎀 As I said in previous headcanons Jack doesn't really see stuff so he doesn't have a solid opinion on your style of clothing, he likes the texture of it though. Ruffles are great to run his hands through

🎀 Over time he just kinda stopped listening your crassness like, not in the literal sense but sometimes people around him point out and he's just "oh I didn't notice" he just filtered out that what you were saying was crass and just registered "my s/o is talking"

🎀 Overall a pretty good relationship, you two balance each other very well

Masky

🎀 He doesn't really like people who are crass or being crass himself. He's too old for that, but he will put up with you out of love.

🎀 Overtime he grew used to how you are, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't look at you like you're insane when you say something particularly out of pocket. Like creeps usually do stuff that's not really polite or demure but they don't typically say stuff out loud (or at least they shouldn't)

🎀 Your cute style is really a pro in his list on why he put up with your bullshit. It might not look like it but he has a soft spot for cute things

🎀 yapping with him might be a little difficult, he will listen to you of course he's not a bad boyfriend but he will shut you down pretty quickly if you're trying to convince him of doing some weird experiment or saying something particularly absurd.

🎀 He will use stuffed animals, cute clothes, nice dinner dates etc. to bribe you to be at least less crass when the situation call for it. You will shut up and be polite and not crass if he just asks nicely but you can't help but exploit him a little on this aspect and I can't blame you

🎀 if you ask him, he will gladly give you some lessons on good manners. He likes you however you are but this is something he thinks you can work on...

🎀 shuts you up with kisses. I will not elaborate

🎀 He has a secret ranking of most outrageous stuff you said to him/near him is only 5 itens long but he likes looking at it from time to time when he's missing you.

🎀 Assuming the Creeps exist in the same universe as us and not in a separate one: you told him about Twink Masky. He did not like it. It was funny

🎀 Despite everything he loves your personality, even if your crassness can be considered a "flaw"

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

hwy so can I hVe a scenario with kurt wagner where him and his s/o are in bed together. They have been together for long enough where both have been in bed with one another a ton of times. S/o notices some particular scars along his back that don’t look like they’re from battles he got into. When he lays on his stomach or side. S/o didn’t notice those before despite admiring him sometimes. They look much older and deeper and never healed properly. S/o reaches over and gently touches them and runs their hand along them. Feels a bit like a massage. They don’t know what they are from, but to them it does not matter. He been through something really bad before they waaay met? (Thinking about those scars from his circus days).

~Our Scars Remind Us That The Past Is Real~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 0.3k

Warnings: we mention scars but not much

Genre: mostly fluff

Summary: Laying in bed you notice scars on your boyfriend's back

A/N: Thank you for requesting! <3

***

Kurt rolls over next to you and you smile at his sleeping form. You're having a lazy day today and he's been in and out of naps most of the afternoon while you catch up on the show you've been watching the last couple of months.

You run a hand through his hair and then trail it down. He settles against your touch as it slides over his neck and shoulders. You glance from the TV to his exposed back. You notice something on the skin of his back.

"Whydyastah-" Kurt says- something, but you can't quite catch it because he's speaking against his pillow.

"Kurt?" You prompt quietly. Maybe he's barely conscious and talking in his sleep.

"Why'd you stop?" He sighs.

"Oh, hi baby I didn't realize you were awake again."

"Yeah, I was just enjoying you touching me, but then you stopped."

"Sorry my darling, I- well I noticed some scarring on your back and got distracted I suppose."

"Oh that." Kurt hums.

"I've never noticed them before."

"They're pretty old." He shrugs.

"Yeah I thought so, but I'm just surprised I haven't seen them until now."

"Do you spend a lot of time staring at my back or something?" Kurt snorts.

"Well, not your back specifically, but I spend a lot of time looking at you overall. I mean, we've even showered together, I feel like I should've noticed these at some point." You frown.

"I mean I don't think it's a big deal, I'm covered in other scars anyway."

"Sure sure, I was just surprised by them, is all. You asked why I stopped." You explain.

You trace your fingers over the scars, soft touches, you're sure they don't hurt or anything, but you always touch him with care. You can't help it, life has been very difficult for him, and all you want for him is peace.

"Liebling?" Kurt hums.

"Yes my love?"

"Where did you go my heart?" He asks.

"Where did I...?"

"I lost you for a moment there."

"I'm just thinking about how much I love you." You kiss his forehead.

"I love you too." He says.

You won't ask him about how he got the scars. It doesn't really matter. It won't change that you love him, or how much. If he ever wants to tell you more of course you'll always listen, but until then, all you care about is that he's here, with you, and whatever horrors he faced he'll hopefully never have to deal with again.

***

[podcastenthusiast]

Little KCD1 fic set right before the Talmberg Night Raid (which as we all know goes to shit and then Henry runs around asking everyone how they're doing and no one bothers to ask him the same but he is Not Well.)

Just friends era hansry but full of tension.

--

The sun is setting over Talmberg. Soon it will be time to attempt their hostsge liberation.

"So," Hans says. "Ready to storm the castle? Rescue the dear Lady Stephanie? It's mad, but you're good at that."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"What have I done now?"

Henry turns, and there's a fire in his eyes Hans hasn't seen since before Vranik, maybe since he had nothing to his name but his grief and a sword he used to take down those Cuman bastards in the woods during their fateful hunt gone awry.

"About Sir R--fuck, about my father!"

"You think I knew? Really?"

"Oh, stop it. Hanush knew, Sir Divish knew, Istvan fucking Toth knew! Why not you as well?!"

"Good question! Maybe they thought I'd get drunk and run my mouth to half of Rattay. Or did you miss the part about my uncle not trusting me with my own damn affairs, let alone Radzig's? Use your head before you bite off mine. Christ."

Henry looks away, and without the burst of anger he seems suddenly so lost, defeated.

"You didn't know either, then," he says slowly, blinking as if waking from a dream.

"No. You told me your late father was a blacksmith--a respectable trade. I had no reason to suspect otherwise."

"He was. A good man."

"I don't doubt it."

"How could Ma do that to him?"

Hans doesn't know what to say.

"Perhaps he knew?"

"Sure." Henry laughs, bitter and low.

"Henry--"

"It doesn't matter now," he continues. "Knowing the mercy of that monster. I'll be an orphan again soon."

"Don't say that."

"Why? It's true. I'm failing him, just like I failed Ma and Pa. No wonder he didn't tell me himself. He'll die ashamed to have ever called me his son! They're all gonna die and it's my fault! I--"

He only stops speaking because he's run out of air and can't seem to figure out how to take a breath.

"Henry! For God's sake, breathe!"

Hands on his shoulders. Keep him steady, keep him breathing, keep him here. He doesn't think Henry would run or lash out at him, but he's going somewhere in his mind Hans can't follow. It's terrifying.

"I can't watch another village burn. I can't," Henry whispers after a while, like it's shameful, like Hans is a priest hearing his confession.

"Look at me, Hal."

Henry hasn't slept more than a handful of hours since he escaped Vranik. The exhaustion, the injuries, the battle, the fear--just one of those things would be enough to break most men. He isn't broken, but he isn't well either. The young lord thinks maybe he hasn't been since he first stumbled into Rattay, clashing swords and barbed words against Hans like he was unafraid to die. It's an absolute injustice that even more will be demanded of him before this is all done.

"None of this is your fault," Hans says firmly. "People owe their lives to you. Like that Skalitz girl. The one with visions of Our Lady."

"Johanka? They sent her to a convent."

"And we both know heresy is a serious charge. She could have fared much worse without you there to defend her."

"I don't know... If I hadn't let it go on so long maybe she'd still be here, with Matthias."

"Fine. What about me, then? Not only am I breathing after you saved me twice over, but my life is overall richer for your presence in it, you dolt."

"Hans..."

"Hear me when I say that if anyone can do this, it's you. I'd take that wager any day."

Probably ought to step back now. Hans is suddenly very aware of how close they are, of his hands still upon Henry's shoulders.

"Okay," Henry says.

"Yes?"

"Toth will pay. I swear it."

Hans pats his shoulder, then withdraws.

"There he is! That's my blacksmith's boy. Or, well, you know." Fierce as a hound chasing the scent of blood, his own personal guardian angel; if only Henry could be anything he wanted. But that isn't the way of war. "We will see Toth hang for what he did."

"We?"

"Of course! You didn't think I would let you go alone, did you? Better here than waiting for the bastards to take Rattay. Besides, I'm something of an expert at sneaking in and out of castles undetected."

"Thank you, my lord. Can't imagine Sir Hanush is pleased."

"Livid!" Hans beams.

Henry smiles a little, although nothing is really any more okay than it was before. Hans cherishes the victory. He doesn't know it yet, but it will be the only one they have tonight.

[peachdues]

Mayhaps some Sanemi NFSW headcanons 🤲

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA NSFW HEADCANONS

I neither regret nor apologize for how carried away I got with this.

CW: f!Reader • NSFW • MDNI • Sanemi’s oral fixation • breeding/creampie kink • switch!Sanemi • exhibitionism

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

He has a silvery happy trail that begins just below his navel and runs narrow before widening just before his groin. He really likes it when you drag your tongue down it (and it's a sure way to get him panting).

Below the belt, he keeps his hair neat and trimmed -- any time you're spent gagging on a stray pubic hair is time you're not spending with your mouth around his cock, and that's just a tragedy (but he doesn't give a shit whether or not you have hair!)

Now let's get to the good part: his dick

Physically, Sanemi's cock is just like the rest of him: absolutely intimidating. You lowkey think you're going to die the first time you see it because there's just no way in hell that's going to fit without splitting you in half, right???

He's above average in length -- about a solid 6.5-7 inches when hard, but he's about 2.5 of HIS fingers in girth. When he's erect, it stands straight up, with an angry, red tip that's already leaking because the man is eager -- and not just to be in you, but cum in you, too. Whether it's your mouth or your cunt, it doesn't matter, just know you're going to be filled no matter what.

FOREPLAY

Sanemi's favorite snack might be ohagi, but after meeting you, it's your pussy.

Sanemi doesn't cow before anyone, but that man will drop to his knees for you with just a flutter of your eyelashes, head going straight between your thighs so he can have his fill of you until you're doubled over his shoulder, legs shaking so badly he has to hold you up.

His ideal day consists of you, sitting on his face, while being tongue-deep inside of your cunt. He can go at it for hours, your weight bearing down on him as your thighs cage his head, while he laps at your sweetness and wraps those sinful lips of his around your throbbing, overstimulated clit for a nice long suck.

the man is a connoisseur of cunt idk what else to say

HOW HE FUCKS YOU

Let's go over your first time together.

Though he has an incredibly high sex drive, during those first couple of times, he exerts the self-control of a Buddhist monk.

This is also because for him, sex is more than just a way to feel good (though, don't get him wrong -- it feels fucking incredible). For Sanemi, sex also means being vulnerable; it means letting someone see him without the armor of his sword, his uniform, his status as the brutal, relentless Pillar he is.

So whether it's your first time ever or just your first time with him, he's going to be gentle -- because Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than hurt you

Like come on, the man has buried too many of his loved ones already, he ain't tryin' to bury you, too

He's moving slow and languid, barely pulling out in favor of rolling his hips into yours. Part of this is for your benefit, because he wants you to feel him, but it's also for his.

Sanemi might be balls-deep in you at the moment, but he's still a Hashira, and his observation and perception skills are sharp. He's mentally taking note of what touches and movements make you gasp and sigh, and especially those that make you dig your nails into his back, tighten your legs around him, and whimper his name.

After a couple of times together (and I mean like two MAX), buckle up, buttercup: Sanemi is now an expert in your body and he's about to educate you.

Okay, now that the first time is out of the way, let's talk Sanemi in bed overall

This man is a moaner

I'm sorry, but Sanemi Shinazugawa has never known how to keep his fucking mouth shut, so what makes you think he'd do so in bed? When your slick, tight walls are gripping him like a fucking vice? Who tf do you think he is, Tomioka??

He's also a talker -- especially the more pussydrunk he gets. Whether it's your name, how much he loves you, that he wants to marry you or get you pregnant, the man may as well be giving a sermon in his devotion to you while your eyes are rolled back in your skull, mouth half-open as he fucks every sane thought you've ever had right out of your pretty head.

The man is a switch. He's a dom in every other aspect of his life, so it's nice to let loose with his lover a bit and relax -- let someone else take control. After all, sex for Sanemi isn't just about feeling fucking fantastic, but it's also about expressing with his body what he can't with his words.

When he's on top, he's a service dom. Your pleasure is his pleasure -- so even as his cock slides in and out of you, he's still going to work. He's not cumming until you've cum at least two or three times, and even after he's done, he's still going to make you cum again. He's constantly telling you how good you are, how beautiful you look in whatever position he has you bent in, and how perfect you feel around him.

That said, he's into both overstimulating and edging you -- but he's not too mean about either.

But when Sanemi is on the bottom?

The whiniest bitch you've ever met.

He's begging you to go faster, or simply to give him more, but you love teasing him as much as he does you, so you'll alternate your pace in order to prolong his torture (but hey, it just means he cums twice as much and twice as hard in the end).

Play with his balls while you're on top and he will cum so hard he goes cross-eyed for a hot second

I feel like the fandom largely agrees Sanemi has a breeding kink, but I also thinks this translates into a creampie kink in general. Sure, he'll cum on your face, your tits, your thighs as much as you want -- but only after he's filled your greedy little cunt to its brim, and then he'll do it one more time for good measure. You're his girl, after all, so he knows you can take it.

Initially, he'd pull out every time, mostly because he didn't know how to apporach the subject of asking you whether you were okay with him finishing inside. He didn't want to assume that you were taking some sort of medication to prevent an accidental whoopsie, but while he loves the idea of getting you pregnant and having a family, he doesn't want to force that on you if it's not what you want

(local mama's boy has childhood trauma?? from his father?? it's more likely than you think)

so Sanemi continues to pull out, instead painting your stomach, your thighs, or your ass with his creamy, hot seed, even though it pains him to do so.

That is, until one night, he's pounding into you so goddamn perfectly, with your legs draped over his forearms and ass nearly resting against his thighs as he ruts into you, his weight pressing deliciously down upon you into the futon. You can tell by the way his hips are slapping against yours, making the lewd, squelching sound of your messy cunt nearly drown out your breathy whimpers, that you're close -- so, so close, but then Sanemi tenses.

"I'm 'bout to cum," he manages to grit through his teeth, his hips stuttering as he goes to pull out of your intoxicating, silken heat. Through the haze he's created in your mind, your stomach clenches as you realize you're going to lose this -- this wonderful feeling of being so warm and so full of him. Your release is close, so fucking close, and if he pulls out now, it's going to be ruined and you're so desperate to cum. Your legs lock around his backside, trying to hold him in place, and his eyes widen.

"N-no, 'Nemi, please," you start to beg, and to his bewilderment, you start tearing up, lower lip quivering because he can't pull out, not when he's making you feel so good; not when you're so fucking close.

"Shit," he groans, and his hips pick right back up slamming against you, his biceps flexing as his arms tighten around your thighs. "Shit, sweetheart, you don't have to ask me twice."

After that -- pulling out??? never heard of her.

KINK-O-CLOCK

Like I said: his biggest kink is giving you so many creampies, Hostess is thinking about offering him a job in product development

Fucking loves 69'ing, because he gets the best of both worlds -- your pussy on his face, and your mouth around his cock

Bit of a risk kink/exhibitionism kink. He likes the thrill of the risk of getting caught doing it in a place you two shouldn't be. He gets especially turned on at the thought of you having to go about your usual business while his cum is still oozing out of you.

Loves when you play with his ass but would rather be eaten by a demon than admit it.

Once, while you were on your knees in front of him, his cock jammed down your throat, you reached your hands around him to grip his ass and haul him closer. Somehow, your fingers dipped between his cheeks and the man bucked into you so hard, you almost choked.

Even though he nearly triggered your gag reflex, you were able to ignore it because the man let out a wholeass whine -- so of course, you had to do it again.

The second your index finger dipped towards his opening, he came in your mouth, and he came hard.

He likes to bite you/leave marks on you -- especially your breasts, your hips, and your inner thighs. He also enjoys when you mark him -- make sure to give him one or two on his chest, so he can display them proudly.

Truthfully, he loves when you pin him down by his wrists while riding him. Could he overpower you with a flick of his pinky finger? Yes. But something about your small hands wrapping so tightly around his while you hold him down against the bed, your hips grinding and swiveling up and down his length makes him go a little dumb in the brain.

Fun fact! You once restrained him by both his wrists and ankles and rode him and by the end of it, he looked like this:

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Man Called Danger 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You avoid drama, you avoid confrontation, and overall, you avoid men. But some men can’t be denied. ~ short!late 30s reader

Characters: biker!Bucky Barnes

Note: it's another monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"I'm gonna hit the bathroom before we go," Eva pushes out her chair. 

"I'll sort the bill," you assure her as you check the slip left by the server. It's more than you like to spend. 

As she goes, you keep your attention on your wallet. That man is still there. Watching. He ordered food but didn't eat. Most of yours is in the to-go by the untouched cocktail. 

You refuse to look at him. He's waiting for it. You don't need to provoke him. Especially not with Eva around. 

Her voice wafts over as if she heard your thoughts. You flinch and look over. She giggles by his table as she talks to him. He has his phone in hand as she winks and nearly skips back to you. He grins but you look away before your eyes can meet. 

She sits and your cheeks pinch. The server arrives before you can find the words to ask. You pay with a tap of your card and tuck it away. 

"What did you say to that man?" You keep your voice even and your back to his table. 

"I was being nice," she insists. "I gave him your number." 

"You--" you catch yourself before you can cheep.  

"I mean he's into you. Don't worry, I told him you're shy." 

"Oh my god," you drone and turn away, stomping toward the door. 

She hurries after you in a clack of heels, "you're not mad at me, are you?" 

"Mad? No. Irritated. Why would you give him my number?" 

"I... I thought... I'm sorry," she follows you outside. 

"Eva, don't be, I just..." you untangle your purse as it twists from your elbow. You feel bad as you can hear her guilt. You know she means well. "Look, I had a really long day and work has been... weird." 

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean to make it worse," she mutters. 

"Please, let's just go home," you get out your keys and hit unlock too many times. You crane to see over your shoulder. Is he following? "We both worked hard." 

"Sure," she agrees. "It was... I didn't mean--" 

"Really, I can tell him to scram if I need to." You say before ducking into the car. You are going to have to. Again. 

💀

The rumble that trails vaguely along your path home doesn't surprise you, but it troubles you. You do your best not to let on. Not to let the dread bubble over to fear. 

You pull up to your small modest house and for a moment, consider backing out. You know better than to lead a strange man back to your home but what choice do you have. As it were, he knows where you work, who's to say he doesn't already have your address? 

You get out as Eva does the same. She yawns. You walk quietly to the front door. You're certain to lock it as she takes off her shoes. 

She heads down the hall and calls dibs on the shower. You barely get out a grumble. You stay by the door. 

The engine roars closer and closer. It's a game to him, not to you. It's not fun for you. 

There's no sense in running away. If you hadn't in the first place, he wouldn't have come to the restaurant. He wouldn't have got so close to Eva. That was his statement. It's not just you anymore... 

Deal with it. Be done with it. Your mother trailed men along so many times. You know better. Even if you never asked for this, it's your problem now. 

As the motorcycle thunders down the street, the whine of the pipes fades. You twist the latch back and storm out. The man rolls toward your house and you stop at the end of the driveway. 

He steers toward you and plants his feet. His blue eyes sparkle as you glower back at him. He shuts off the engine. You sigh. 

"I can get you my insurance info," you begin. 

He snorts and kicks the stand down. Your eyes wander to the scratches on the bars and tank. You bite the inside of your lip. 

He climbs off and you feel even smaller. You don't know what else to do.  

"For the bike. I didn't mean to--" 

He laughs. You stare. 

"I'm not here about the bike." 

You don't know how to respond, so you don't. You don’t want to feed his ego. Or worse, his anger. All men are angry. Deep down. 

"You're running from me," he accuses. 

"I don't know you," you utter. 

"Well, you don't make it easy to change that." 

You look away and push your shoulders up. When you glance at him again, he's intent on you. A man's never been so fixated on you before. It makes the world feel smaller. 

"It's... at the bar? I appreciate what you did," you say. "So if that's why you're here, my sister won't be going back--" 

"Your sister?" He hums with intrigue. "That who she is?" 

You cross your arms, heat razing up your back. 

"I don't... I don't know what you want so if you could just... let me know or leave me alone. I really don't have time for all this." You say. 

He snickers again and reaches to toy with his helmet strap. "You don't got time for me?" He nods, "wow, you know, I never had a lady say that to me. No men either. They're all too scared." 

"Scared, er?" You swallow. "Well, I... I don't mean it rudely. It's just...the truth." 

"Alright, well then, I won't waste your time, doll. Gimme your name and I'll let you enjoy your night." 

You scratch your neck and peek behind you. You look at him then shrug. If he doesn't already know, he'll find out. You give your name. 

"Beautiful," he says. "Well, I'm Bucky. Just so you got a name for the face." 

You take a step back, "right, well... you got what you wanted." 

"Not even close," he says as he straddles his bike once more. "But I got enough. For now." 

For now? Chagrin wrinkles between your brows. He holds your gaze as he moves the bike back with patient steps. The headlight is cracked, no doubt from your panicked flight. His is anything but frantic. 

He angles the bike down the street and turns the engine. He twists the throttle and pushes off. In a tear of gas-laced exhaust, he leaves you, uncertain of yourself but sure of his return. Maybe not here, but eventually, he'll find you again. 

💀

Work is already stressful without the weight of your personal life. You try not to think of it as you walk in that morning. You should be content. Eva’s at her second day, she’s behaving, at least as far as you know, and you’re in the slow season as the fiscal year comes to an end. 

Despite trying to cozen yourself into a false sense of security, you can’t find even the solace of denial. Not as you approach your desk and find Mr. Walker awaiting you. This is a first and it’s definitely not a good omen. The only other time you saw him at someone’s workstation like this usually ended up in an empty chair. 

“Mr. Walker,” you approach, your nerves worn down. “Good morning.” 

“Is it good?” He asks. You can’t tell if he’s being trite or not. 

“Well, it is morning,” you say. “Is there something I can do?” 

He looks around at your desk then back to you. He tilts his head. “New client. Tim’s on vacation with the family. Deb’s got her kid’s game tonight.” 

You give a short nod, “I can pick up the overtime.” You’ll message Eva and hope she can find her way home. No, you’ll trust that she will. Things are different now. She’s an adult. 

“That’s great,” he taps the corner of your desk and his eyes trail over. You left it raised the day before. “These standing desks, you like them?” 

You clutch the handle of your lunch bag tighter. “They help me get on my feet. Not bad.” 

“Hm,” his cheeks dimple. “I admire that in an employee. Straight to the point.” 

You measure the comment. It could be a compliment or insult. Or even just designed to confuse you. Some true managerial mind fuckery. 

“Sir, I like it. I know a lot of other places don’t have them so... it’s nice.” 

“Well, I...” he looks around as if trying to seem hapless. “I’m in your way and you have a long day ahead of you.” 

You check your watch, “still on time.” 

He shifts but not far. As you step past him, he stays close. There’s a brush against your pants. Is it your paranoia which makes it feel intentional? 

You step behind your desk and put your lunch bag on the corner. You unhook your purse and sling it over the back of your chair. You’re keenly aware of Walker’s presence. 

“You drink coffee? I was going to have one.” 

You hesitate. Is he offering? 

“I have one a day. Before work,” you assure him. 

“Huh, yeah, the caffeine,” he muses. “Could I get some help though?” 

You look at him as your computer boots. This is odd. Him asking for help. Not just that he’s admitting to needing it, but that he’s not demanding it is enough to pique your concern. 

“I usually pop down to the coffee shop but I’m not in the mood for crowds. I’ve never used that fancy machine that’s draining the budget,” he snorts. 

As put off as you are, you’re also agitated. You just like to get your stuff down and get going. The days are already grueling enough. You won’t say no. He got Eva a job and he’s never been as big a bugger to you as others. 

You step around your desk. 

“Right, I think I can figure it out,” you say. 

He backs up to let you through. He waves his arm to direct you ahead of him. You take the lead, ready to melt as he follows, his eyes needling the back of your skull. 

You go to the break room. It’s empty. Too many people rush in late, with cups from the cafe, or yawns into their hands.  

You approach the machine. Sometimes, you use it for hot water to brew some tea but nothing else. Those instant drinks are all sugar. 

Well, it’s a touch screen. It can’t be that difficult. 

“So... a cup,” you talk to yourself more than him. As you reach for one of the paper cups, he does too. His large hand closes around yours. He could crush it and the cup with a squeeze. 

He hums and lets go. He lingers next to you as you set the cup on the tray. You bring your finger up to tap the coffee option on the screen. You feel like an idiot. You don’t think he really needs help. He’s just reminding you of who does who favours. 

“Um, medium, dark... latte....” you read out the options. Is he closer? No, you’re just not used to him. 

“Hmmm,” taps his chin. “French Vanilla or Hazelnut?” 

You wait for him to choose. He clicks his tongue. “I’m in the mood for something sweet. Vanilla.” 

You tap the screen again. He exhales and runs his knuckles up your sleeve. You nearly flinch away but think better of recoiling. It’s nothing. 

“Bring that to me, will you, sweetheart?” He squeezes your shoulder before he turns to strut out. 

You stay as you are, shoulder tingling, head pulsing, ears ringing. Sweetheart? And now you’re bringing him his coffee? Like some intern? You cringe as the machine churns loudly and your insides squirm in unison. 

Just when things seem to be in order, they have to go and fuck themselves up again. 

[luvologyy]

Hmm…. How do you think the tuplar crew would react to their long-haired s/o suddenly showing up to their house, one day , with short hair 🤔

(Bonus points if the s/o acts all nonchalant about it too 🤭)

I love this anon, especially bc I cut my hair a couple of months ago, and it's growing back long, lol

⋆.˚ ★— luscious locks

Anya, daisuke, curly, swansea, Jimmy x reader

no specific detail about readers' hair type! It can be any to your liking (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) + different hair headcanons too ig reader acts all nonchalant lmaoo

Takes place on earth! Enjoy ୨ৎ

Anya

★ when anya opened her door and saw you with your long hair so much shorter than before, her jaw was DROPPED.

★ she couldn't form words, she wasn't weirded out by your new hair, it was just a surprised to her, so unexpected yk yk??

★ even though she was sad to see your long hair gone, she supports anything you choose to do with your hair.

★ overall, she asks questions about you cutting your hair, asking, "What made you cut it?" Or "did you cut it yourself?" Just curious about your hair journey ykk

★ she loves playing with your hair, with your permission ofc. It doesn't matter if you got short or long, she loves itt

★ she always loved styling your hair, too! Like tying it up in buns or ponytails. Even though your hair is shorter and harder to style, it doesn't stop anya.

Daisuke

★ daisuke wasn't expecting anyone to show up at his house, but there you are! But when he saw you, bro was DEVESTATED..

★ he loved your long hair and how soft it was.. but now IT WAS SHORT. HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THINGG!? Daisuke thought.

"Y/N.." daisuke said, his jaw literally dropped

"What? What's wrong?"

"YOUR HAIR!!" He yelled, pointing towards your hair.

★ will not stop bugging you about your hair, poking your head when he's with you, and sadly running his fingers through your short hair.

★ ofc, he doesn't actually hate it. It just sucks that he's not the only one with shortish hair now.

★ he'll like it if you dye your hair different colors!

★ like he doesn't care if you cutted your hair or not, he'll love it if you have colorful hair.

★ every time he'll pass by you, he'll scruff up your short hair with his hand, just to annoy you.. yk how daisuke is

Curly

★ He's really surprised, but happy to see your new hair !

★ he loves your new hair, yeah.. he did live your longer hair, but he loves it short, too.

★ he supports any choices you do with your hair, just like anya.

★ if it's cutting your hair, styling it in funky ways, dying your hair? He'll help you! He's the most supportive guy you'll know.

★ he can't help but be surprised and laugh from seeing your new hair, not making fun of it, just out of shock and a mix of happiness, yk??

★ curly will rain you with compliments.. NONSTOP. telling you how pretty your hair is and how soft it is, and how it suits you a lot.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n!" Curly laughed out when he saw you

"What, what's wrong?" You said blankly

"Your hair!"

"You like it?"

"Yeah, it looks nice on you."

★ he can't help but stare at your new hair, just admiring your new hair.

Swansea

★ as soon as he cracked open the door, he swore you almost gave him a heart ATTACKK!

★ He's absolutely disappointed in you. He'll just stand there in denial..

"What the fuck is this?.."

"What's wrong, swansea??"

"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHAT'S WRONG??"

★ one of his favorite things about you will always be your hair. But now, since it's not long like how he likes, he's DEVESTASTED

★ will lecture and scold you like an old man, telling you dumb stuff about you cutting your hair.

★ will not stop bugging you about you cutting your hair. He'll BE ALL ON YOU, reminding of your old long hair and how much he loved it. He'll be so extra with it, girll..

★ doesn't understand why you would cut it. He thought your long hair was perfect.

★ he definitely has to get used to your new hair. He just hopes your hair will grow back longer (not knowing you'll prolly cut it again lol.)

★ he does learn to like it, but he'll always prefer your long hair. he's just a little hater..

★ will lecture you NONSTOPP like your his child (you being a grown ass adult too💀) knowing damn well he's not your dad. (Love a father figure)

Jimmy

★ He's in disbelief, never thought you'd cut your AMAZING LUSCIOUS HAIR.

★ the whole day you're with him, he will give you stink eye..

★ will give you silent treatment. He's THAT petty. He's that mad at you just because you cutted your long hair.

★ he'll eventually give up and will talk to you after trying to give you silent treatment. But he's still disappointed in you for cutting your hair.

★ just like Swansea, he'll definitely have to get used to your new hair.

★ he'll just stare at you, looking at your new hair with the biggest frown on his face.

★ calm down, he doesn't actually hate your short hair (that much..) he just acts petty and extra.

I'm not surprised if this flops THIS IS SOO LAZYYY

[saliosis]

happy halloweeen!! here's my take on a "core refresh" pack (part 6)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 + more under cut

frankie's fashion is very experimental. they like to explore themselves through what they wear since they're just learning things about the world. to symbolize their personality, they have a "quirky" style of fashion. mostly mismatched, mostly all over the place. there's not really a category for frankie's style... not that i can think of. they like to wear anything, honestly. dresses, suits, overalls, shirts, shorts, boots, heels. they're trying to figure out their style, so sometimes they'll incorporate some more colors. they like black and white, but they add teal in. yellow is another color added.

they don't wear real/natural silver because they've learned that this can harm their fellow monsters. any silver accessories they have is fake (painted grey, because that's a way to work around it)

they experiment with piercings

this was in my og design, but they have a huge patch over their left eye. it's plaid, so sometimes they try their best to match their outfits well enough for them to look aesthetically pleasing

likes patterns. stripes, plaid, etc. etc.

clawdeen's fashion is furry and bold. again, this is the fashionista of the school. she is the queen of fashion. again, she likes fur and animal print. whatever she chooses to wear is what usually sets the trends and expectations for those at monster high. she loves to explore herself though. i'd say her style evolves, but these are the main ideas of her fashion. she loves purple, but she also loves green. maybe has a french fashion inspiration? i don't really know how to label it. it's sort of mcbling, but also the style you'd expect of a very cunty aunt who likes shopping. she likes pants best, ngl. jeans are great. skirts are fine by her, she just loves pants.

i like the idea of clawdeen constantly changing up her style. yes, she can also wear something like her g3 outfits. much more coordinated. what i've displayed is the style that takes up most of her closet, tho

she wears glasses, but she has different pairs for each outfit

green is a color she loves so much but doesn't make use of it enough

the wolf family has a little emblem thing i've snuck onto each. it's a golden circle pendant with a small moon on the inside, two little bars holding up the design so it floats. it could also look like a money symbol... idk like coins. it's good luck. mostly for money manifesting and all. she runs with the gold and goes crazy. only gold, no bronze accessories. ever.

on days of the full moon, she will wear super loose clothing. the moon cycles could also impact her fashion choices.

draculaura's fashion is very iconic. a sort of gothy, classic, and romantic sort of look. i'd say she likes to take a spin on victorian styles and make them modern... while also mashing together those 2010s pink/black skull prints and tees that we all know and love. i really like the idea of her in a long dress that hits the floor. i would say she's romantic goth. she likes frills, long ball gowns, lace, and hats that can cover her from the sun whenever she has to travel outside in the daytime. lots of slip dresses if she wants to be more casual. elegance, but done cutely.

the silhouette of an outfit is what matters most to her when it comes to fashion

if she wears a skirt, she wears a big petticoat underneath. a very big petticoat

her parasol can be used interchangeably with a large hat. she always wants either or to match her outfit. and they are always kind of extra

her "victorian" style is a sort of nod to her immortality. she probably likes that fashion period best and likes to try and honor that

i like the idea of her experimenting with her hair. it was a g3 idea, kinda. but bangs, streaks, half and half, etc. i like to imagine draculaura being into the big goth hair

cleo's style is very similar to her g1 style. gold. blues. elegant, fresh, modern, and incredibly easy on the eyes. obviously, she loves to flaunt her designer clothing around school. and since she is so popular, it's expected for her to serve look after look. you will never ever see her look bad. every cleo portrayal i've seen never has enough mummy wrap. she needs it to survive and yet, she only has like, one or two bands on her arms. my cleo's fashion is all about wrap-themed clothing. she has lots of wraps. sometimes she comes up with ways to mix that or even show off her monster trait and heritage. she loves see-through, glittery material too, obviously paired on top of something. but it's glamourous. it's rich. it's sometimes a little 90s inspired, but mostly fresh.

this cleo loves pants. loose pants work, i suppose. but she likes them baggy. one of the best examples of what she likes to wear for pants would be those baggy pyramid-textued pants i designed for her once

gets custom made jewelry (braclets, earrings, etc) that spell out her name in hieroglyphics

likes shorter skirts, but secretly admires longer skirts ten times more

blue lover. any shade. try her. she will obviously mix around her makeup, nails, and hair to work around whatever blue she's feeling

loves gems. lots of gems. real ones, obviously.

doesn't like socks very much. she can literally just do the same thing socks do for feet with mummy wrap. same with stockings

[yanoverload]

hear me out! your OCS with a single father!darling.

who would handle it the best? who would handle it the worst?

OK SO THIS IS YUMMY TO THINK OF

The best would for sure be Beau!

He really wants a family with darling, but it doesn't need to be his! He would adore the child as his own because well, they are now :)

Their other parent is gone. Doesn't matter if they are alive or not, if they're an ok person or awful, your kid will be calling Beau "mama" and their other birth parent by name.

The kiddo's parent may try to say you've alienated them against them, but a lot of people in town care and feel some pity for Beau for being a hybrid, so even if they know the truth, they will back HIM up.

As a parent though, Beau is very sweet! He is patient with kids, because thats how he would've liked to be treated as a kid. He will spoil your child tremendously. Not with money or anything but with the whole "my baby is the best around" mentality.

Def a toxic soccer mom where your kid can do no wrong in his eyes.

And the worse would sadly be Mono.

He is very sweet and kids love him, but he is not a great parental figure. He's immature and forgets stuff sometimes, not only is he clumsy.

Him with a young kid is a nightmare waiting to happen.

Also you would have to look for a witch to make sure the binding between you both extends for your kid, or else he could accidentally burn them.

You could teach Mono about caring for kids sure, but it won't last long term.

You might lose your house privileges if you keep them together unsupervised.

And as a bonus because I was laughing about it, Ramune is a 50/50.

Ramune never interacts with kids like.... At all. He knows they are tiny humans though, and can't help finding them cute. One that looks like darling? Absolutely adorbs!!!!

However, he can be a bit of a pushover to your kid. He can't help it!!! He wants to get along with them!

If your child is more into feminine things like dolls and makeup, then they'll have a grand time. If your kid is more of a sportsy kind, he's fucked. Can't play soccer to save his life.

He may entertain your kid by showing how he can run in high heels though!

Overall Ramune is a "I tried my best parental figure", but your kid probably saw him downing a shot of vodka once, his eyes dead exhausted after playing with them.