#So yeah sometime I’ll draw them!

[chloesimaginationthings]

I’m really curious how you would draw the Five Missing Children.

Technically I’ve drawn them! Only the movie versions though, sometime I’ll do the game ones too!

[hizznbyte]

I like how my Kittisaurus/Creamheroes designs were the thing to improve my shape language in art LMAO

If I redrew them I’d make em even more geometrical!! *TT turns into a triangle* ..okay maybe not that geometrical…

[pixlokita]

Why don't you allow them to do dubbing for you?

While a few people have been polite enough to ask and properly credit there’s a quite a few dubs that didn’t get permission, didn’t credit properly if at all… even credited the wrong person on purpose. And don’t get me started on people using AI voices to “dub” comics (also without crediting the source) . At least put in the effort. That’s just reposting art at this point :’> anyway it gets depressing when people say they’ve seen your art but couldn’t even find you because of that. I love the dubs that people were nice about tho 💖 it means a lot that they’d go out of their way to do that sincerely because they just liked the comics or contributed to the ideas somehow but yeah it got pretty overwhelming and bad after a while.

[void-tiger]

You said I’m not a “real musician” because I don’t have an operatic voice. Well fuck you. A different director with more degrees including a doctorate he’ll throw around as clout insists that I am, and a different retired opera singer is pretty disgusted by that attitude of “ONLY Operatic Voices Are Worthy To Study Music” of yours.

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[rumisgf]

YOUR BEST EATER ! - JJK EDITION

summary: jjk characters i think can eat pussy the best and who i think would not. that’s really it, i’m telling yall who the munches are. enjoy some pussy eating headcanons :D !

warnings: explicit obviously, black!reader, discussing f!receiving oral, use of the title daddy (once), cursing, slight crack, slander but i’m kidding kinda

GOJO SATURO - 10/10

✧ he’s sick in the head.

✧ i hate him truly. he gives good head and he knows it.

✧ he loves making it messy, he wants your arousal all over his face

✧ he wants it on the sheets by the time he’s finished

✧ he also likes making you cum multiple times, so don’t expect mercy

✧ he gets a kick out of watching you squirm and writhe under his touch

✧ and not only is his tongue magical, but he knows all the methods to make you scream for him

✧ he uses fingers and all that

✧ he’s definitely made you squirt from head

✧ the type of head he gives will have you soaked before he even fucks you

✧ yk the song that’s like ‘i’m the type of guy that’s gon eat it ‘fore i put it in?”

✧ yeah, that’s gojo

“one more, princess? hm?”

“yesss- please ‘toru!”

“good girl.. want you to make a mess all over my tongue”

GETO SUGURU - 9/10

✧ he’s a good contender for sure

✧ he’ll act like he doesn’t want to at first but it’s all a facade

✧ he can’t let you know he’s a fiend too early of course

✧ but when he finally does, boy are you surprised

✧ toe curling. jaw dropping.

✧ he’ll have you creaming on his fingers while he sucks on your clit like a madman

✧ it hurts so good and you never want him to stop

✧ and he licks your clit so attentively, he looks at each facial expression you make

✧ he draws perfect circles with his tongue

✧ it’s definitely not his strong suit (but shit that’s saying something)

✧ i’ll give him his flowers though for sure

✧ he gives the type of head that has you aching for him to put his dick inside you already

“taste so fuckin’ good. love this pussy, baby- ‘s all mine.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8/10

✧ he’s one of those guys who swears up and down he doesn’t eat pussy

✧ he does.

✧ first time he went between your thighs, you thought you saw god

✧ whenever your hips lift up and you start squirming from all the pleasure, he presses them back into the mattress

✧ and he edges you while giving you head

✧ he’ll have you screaming then stop just to hear you beg for him to let you cum

✧ he’s still a sadist at the end of the day, he can’t let you have too much fun

✧ either that, or he overstimulated you until there’s literal tears streaming down your cheeks

✧ he loves making you cry from head

✧ if he’s not having you gag on his dick as he throat fucks you, this is his other way to see tears stain your pretty face

✧ whenever you squirt from him giving you head, he feels very satisfied with himself

✧ he can never give head for too long tho because the sight of you dripping pussy right in front of his eyes makes him so hard it hurts

“stay fuckin’ still brat. let me taste this pussy.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN - 2/10

✧ he doesn’t eat pussy.

✧ yeah, sorry.

✧ he’s a literal demon idk what else was expected

✧ in all seriousness, he’s not too fond of giving head

✧ but, he does enjoy fingering you though

✧ his fingers are often plunged into your hole while make out sessions and it’s his go-to for foreplay

✧ he’ll have you on his lap and play with your cunt until you’re crying

✧ and if you have toys, he loves overstimulating you with him

✧ this is often how he punishes you (sometimes he just feels like it, though)

✧ but long story short, this man will NOT be your best eater

“ry- fuck! daddy please- can’t take it!”

“nuh uh, this is what you wanted doll. let me take care of ya.”

NANAMI KENTO - 10/10

✧ if gojo’s not your best eater, nanami’s definitely your best eater

✧ he’s got every tongue and finger combo down packed

✧ he gets down. he do NOT play.

✧ he’s definitely a pleasure dom at heart so he believes you deserve good head from him

✧ and he also doesn’t talk at all while giving you head

✧ it’s almost amazing how focused he gets

✧ his form of communication is looking up at your fucked out face, filling his ego

✧ he likes eating you at after he fucks you

✧ that way he can fuck his cum back into you with his tongue and taste your arousal at the same time

✧ it’s also a way to overstimulate you that he can be slick with

✧ whenever you’re in missionary, he always has your legs bent to your ears so he can pull out and lap at your pussy whenever he wants to

✧ it’s a rush getting fucked into oblivion then getting your soul snatched as he slurps up all your juices

✧ he also enjoys how wet he makes you, so you taste so good when he does

✧ he spits on it. that’s all i have to say.

“k-kento.. so good..”

CHOSO KAMO - 11/10

✧ OHHHH LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING

✧ you thought i wouldn’t put him above gojo and nanami? you’re wrong.

✧ this man is a munch. he’s a fiend. it’s pathetic.

✧ he’ll eat pussy on his knees, matter of fact he loves it

✧ he loves when you trap your legs around like yes please don’t let him breathe he might nut right then and there

✧ he whimpers while eating you out.

✧ he won’t say it, but he likes spelling out words in your clit

✧ he mostly just spells his name

✧ and he loves how you taste, so he can eat you out forever

✧ you have to tap out for him to stop because he really has no self control when it comes to eating you out

✧ and please, sit on his face.

✧ and actually sit on it. this man doesn’t wanna be able to breathe

✧ he’ll leaves fingerprint marked bruises on your ass cheeks from gripping them as he works his tongue from under you

✧ him eating you out always has you squirting before he even fucked you yet

✧ he also enjoys tasting the mix of yours and his cum after he fucks you

✧ choso gives head so good you wanna have his kids

“babyyy- ‘m c-cumming!”

“f-fuck, taste so good baby. need you so bad.”

@ rumisgf

[moonstruckme]

bodyguard!james when you have a panic attack 🫣

Ty for requesting!

cw: panic attack

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James draws closer to you. The older, stern-looking woman you’re talking to glances at him. It’s James’ job to blend in with the wallpaper, but he’s shirking those duties now for one more important. 

You follow the woman’s gaze, noticing him behind you. “Oh, hi.” You smile at him. It’s convincing, a good attempt at hiding how you’re feeling, but James knows you well. “I’m sorry, this is James. James, Linda.” 

“Pleasure to meet you.” James gives Linda a smile of his own. He knows who she is of course, everyone here tonight was pre-vetted by his team and he’s memorized her face as one of the safe ones. He shakes her hand, settling the other lightly on your back. “Sorry to steal her away, but” —James looks to you— “could I talk to you for a minute?” 

You give Linda an anxious glance, and he presses his hand more firmly to your back. A cue.

“Of course.” Your smile blooms again, this one apologetic. They’re all lovely, but James prefers the genuine ones. You say to Linda, “I’ll find you later, okay?” 

“Yes, please.” Linda gives your shoulder a fond squeeze, departing the conversation politely as James starts to guide you away. 

There’s a smaller room not far from you, usually connected to this main one but curtained off for the event. No one notices you slip through the curtain. Your quickening breaths are ten times more obvious in the quieter space. 

“It’s okay.” James supports you the rest of the way to the couch on the other side of the room. You sink down onto it on shaky legs. “You’re fine, angel.” 

You don’t move once you’re sitting, so he maneuvers your body for you, turning you sideways and bringing your feet up onto the couch so you can hug your knees the way you like to. Taking care of you is James’ job, but he thinks he would do it either way. He can’t imagine a life in which he isn’t looking after you. He unzips the back of your dress and starts taking off your shoes. These straps always give him trouble; he doesn’t know how you manage them.

You make a low, pained sound. James feels it in the back of his throat. “James—" 

“I’m not undressing you for everyone to see,” he says lightly. “Only loosening things so you can breathe. It’s just us here, yeah?” 

You nod, closing your eyes. Your breaths sound like they hurt. James doesn’t know what set you off, but these attacks are something you’ve dealt with before. He has a sense of what you need. 

“Sweetheart.” James finally succeeds in getting your shoes off. He clasps his hands over yours firmly, all piled atop your knees. “Just take a breath. One good breath.” 

You try, he sees you trying. But it seems like the air won’t settle in your lungs. Your eyes dip just south of his chin, as though you can’t stand to look at him while they grow distant and shimmery. 

“Good,” James praises you anyway. “You’ve got it, lovely, you’re okay. I know it’s hard right now, but can you do something for me? Tell me five things you can see.” 

You don’t want to. You never do, it’s clearly a lot of work to focus in this state, but eventually James coaxes you into identifying five things in the room. One of them is the earpiece he uses to communicate with the rest of the security team, which makes him smile. 

“I don’t usually call it my spiral cord thing,” he jokes, “but good job. Let’s do four things you can hear, yeah?” 

You get to three before you start crying. James’ heart aches. He hates to see you cry, but sometimes it does help you. You’re going to be upset about your makeup after, though. You fold your face into your knees, and he reaches over you to rub your back. 

“I know.” Your skin is warm beneath his touch, the whole of you shaking. “I know it doesn’t feel like it’s getting better, but it is. You’re doing a great job.” 

“I can’t—“

“Hey, you can. You can, sweetheart. You’re doing it already, you just can’t tell yet. Here, I have something for you.” James changes tactics, fishing in his pocket. He holds a bottle of lavender oil near your face. “Smell this.” 

You pick your head up, looking at the bottle before sniffing tentatively. 

“More than that,” he encourages. “Breathe it in. It’ll help.” 

You take the best inhale you can. Your nose runs and sweat glistens at your hairline, but you try for him. James praises you amply, taking deep breaths for you to copy. He isn’t sure if you notice him doing it, but eventually yours start to match his, slowing and lengthening until you’re getting true lungfuls of the lavender scent. 

James keeps it by your nose. With his other hand, he rubs your calf. 

“You’re okay,” he sighs. “How do you feel now, lovely?” 

“Okay.” Your voice still shakes, but now more with aftershocks than true adrenaline. “Sorry, I don’t know why that happened.” 

“You don’t have to know.” James pinches your nose clean, something in his stomach tightening when you shy. “I’m sorry it happened, too, but it’s not your fault.” 

“I should…” You take a big breath. James frowns and rubs your calf again. “I should go back out.” 

He makes a soft, reprimanding sound. “Not yet. Give yourself a few minutes. You need a break. They’ll all be okay without you for a bit.” 

Your eyes go to the curtain separating you from the main room. You look at it as though you can see right through and every guest at this event is standing on the other side, tapping their feet and muttering about where you’ve gone. 

“Take a break,” James says again. “You thought you were dying a minute ago.” 

“I really did,” you admit. “I thought it wouldn’t feel so much like that after the first time.” 

James hates to see you upset. He presses a kiss to the center of your forehead and puts the oil away. Squeezes your knees in his hands. “Are you going to be okay if I go out there for a minute? I just need to grab a couple of things.” 

You nod but watch his hands ruefully as he stands and they fall away from you. “What do you need?”

“Napkins, mostly.” He gives you a sorry smile. “Obviously you look beautiful no matter what, but I think you’re going to want to clean your face up.” 

“Oh, god.” You touch your fingers underneath your eye, feeling the tackiness of smudged makeup. “Thank you.” 

“Stay right there,” James warns. “If you’re doing anything other than breathing when I get back here, we’re going straight home.” 

You roll your eyes good naturedly. James feels relieved you’re feeling well enough to do it. “You’re the boss.”  

“I’m in charge of your safety,” he says. “So, yeah, I am the boss right now. Stay right there.” 

You hold your palms up in a show of surrender. James is happy to report that as he goes out the curtain, there’s a smile teasing your lips.

[airborneice]

can we talk about how @the-hilda-librarians-wife is just out here writing poetry in the tags like it’s no big deal

@sketchbookweek Day 3 - Sun & Moon / Family

you know I had to bring up my sketchbook kid Mattie for this one. in my mind this is like…impromptu midnight storytime bc someone woke up the entire household and now she’s almost settled no one wants to get up or go back to bed

(Kaisa has become a little more comfortable with openly doing magic by this point, partly because of reconnecting with Tildy in season 2 and partly because no matter how shoddy her spells come out, they never fail to entertain her kids, especially her youngest. Kaisa does the best stories in this house. no child can resist magic floating pictures)

[hoshifighting]

Whai kind of camboys would svt be? What content eo of them would offer?

       seventeen as camboys

WARNINGS: smut, public sex, fingering/handjob, sub/dom, degradation, porn, tantric sex, porn asmr, dirty talk, edging, denial, sex toys, porn filters, amateur, sex partners, masturbation, forced orgasm, hand fetish...

seungcheol dom daddy af pov. full-on bdsm content. he’s got the handcuffs, the restraints.. he’s the type to sit back, shirtless, broad shoulders on full display, he’s telling the audience when they’re allowed to touch themselves, making them wait until he gives them the okay. sometimes he’ll tease by stroking himself, not showing his cock on camera. uses a mask too. and prize draw a fan for him to fuck on the channel's birthdays.

jeonghan edging and denial. always with someone new on cameras, he’ll start his stream fully clothed, just smiling that devilish grin, playing with his hair, “oh? you want me to take it off?” but he’ll drag it out for so long, giving lil’ peeks of skin here and there. sometimes he’ll straight up dip after a tease. he moans all breathy, making eye contact with the camera.

joshua hear me out.. asmr & dirty talk. joshua’s got a voice that’ll melt you, so ofc he’d be doing those long, drawn-out sessions where he’s whispering right into your ear, breathing heavy like he’s right next to you. audio experience—close your eyes, and it’s like he’s fuckin’ you with just his voice. “you want me louder? fuck, i’ll give you loud.”

junhui body worship. there for the visuals, his streams are all about him showing off—slow, oiled-up body shots, flexing, maybe even a lil’ self-praise thrown in. “yeah, you like what you see?” it’s basically softcore porn for your eyes, just… him flexing and jerking off like a fuckin’ greek god. “fuck, i make you so wet, don’t i?”

hoshi messy sex, rough sex & overstimulation. everything with hoshi is physical af, like he’s tryna fuck you through the screen. the type that even gets the camera dirty. absolute chaos. every stream is like a workout, sweat dripping down his body while he’s all breathless, flexing between rounds. “fuck, lemme catch my breath,” he’ll say, grinning at the camera, then he’s back at it, moaning loud enough to wake the neighbors.

wonwoo public sex. wonwoo’s always in public spaces, daring his partner to keep quiet while he fucks them somewhere they could get caught. or just masturbating in public. “don’t make a sound, or we’ll get in trouble.” dirty whispers, his hands everywhere while people walk by, totally unaware. pure adrenaline. all of that with him looking around, and them looking at the camera through his glasses.

woozi hands-only content = fingering&handjob masterclass/tutorial. man’s got skills, and he’s showing them off. finger-fucking a silicone cunt or fisting a dildo, or his cock, while he mutters filth under his breath. it’s like a fuckin’ anatomy lesson. he’s so damn precise with it, it almost feels unfair. you know he could make you cum in record time.

minghao tantric sex & roleplay. minghao’s streams are straight-up sensual. artful af. his streams are like some softcore art film, everything in slow motion, dim lights, silk sheets, slow burn. it’s less about the dirty talk and more about the vibe. but when he does speak, it’s smooth, deep, and straight to the point. “you’ve been waiting for this? let’s make it worth your time.” every moan perfectly timed, like he’s orchestrating the whole experience.

mingyu sub humiliation. big puppy turned sub, tied up, begging for more while he gets humiliated. he will moan pout, getting all flustered when called a good boy. the humiliation only turns him on more—loves begging. the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

seokmin sex toy review. mr. too sweet, all polite, “hi, how was your day?” then he gets into it and fuck, you’re blindsided. he’s got this wholesome look, but once he starts testing the toys, he’s so vocal too. moaning, breathless, almost embarrassed at how into it, because he needs to talk about the whole experience, he gets but also loving every second. the type that reads mostly of the streaming comments. “i hope you have a good night.” he’ll flash that sweet smile, by the end of the stream.

seungkwan mean dom, forced orgasm. this man is cruel in the best way. he’s tying someone to a chair, not letting them cum until they’re crying, pleading with him. “aww, baby, you’re all messed up, huh? too bad, i’m not done.” won’t stop until you’re a wreck. every tear is a turn-on for him.

vernon twitter-porn-style, faceless porn. faceless, purple bedroom lights, and it’s just his giant cock on display, no face, no extra fluff. the vids speak for themselves. slow strokes under fuzzy lighting, letting you focus on just the action. simple but devastating. maybe a low grunt or two if you’re lucky.

chan amateur couple content. chan’s a full boyfriend experience—enthusiastic af, experimenting, maybe even bringing in a partner sometimes. he’s loud, whimpering when he gets close, showing off how excited he is to try new things. you’re in it together, and his moans are infectious.

[beesspacedotorg]

Third Leg?

Summary: after spending time with Minho after exams, you remember something he said in the heat of the moment about your packmate Jeongin. You decide to confront Jeongin about it, because after all, what's the worst that can happen?

Warnings: sex. uh. poly ot8 and reader. more omegaverse. continuation of Dibs but can be read on its own. breeding kink?? manhandling ??? reader is lowkey a brat, uh. Jeongin's dick is huge. I actually don't know what else to add, so let me know if there's another thing I should put in here. reader is an omega but gender and genitals are unspecified as always

notes: I got possesed by a demon when I was writing this. I don't even have a breeding kink. Also if the title is bad, no. this is my first time writing Jeongin, so if it's bad no it isn't. this is his very late birthday present. Happy Birthday, King.

to read: Dibs

In most things, you try to be reasonable. It does not come easy to you, it doesn’t come easy to most people. You wish your pack would be more understanding of this sometimes. You know that’s an unfair thing to say about, to say to, your pack, but you can’t help it. You really don’t want to, you really can’t spend Jeongin’s rut with him. It’s the middle of the semester, you’re still convinced the Luna doesn’t like you, and you’d prefer not to think too hard about your relationship with anyone else. You’re comfortable with Hyunjin and you’re comfortable with Changbin. Everyone else, you think, couldn’t care whether you were around or not.

“That’s unfair to think, dove. Of course they want you around. We want you around.” Hyunjin says, he’s holding your face in his palms in a way that he often does when he talks to you.

“I know, but I really don’t feel comfortable yet, it’s only been a couple months, and it took me so long to get used to being around you.” You huff and you can feel a heat forming behind your nose. “I just really- I don’t want to spend Innie’s rut with him. I can’t.” Hyunjin hums affirmingly and swipes a finger under your eye to cut off a tear, but otherwise makes no comment about your crying.

“You want them to stop pushing,” he says, and you nod at him.

“I want them to stop pushing.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, please don’t say we don’t want you around. We do. At the very least, I do. Okay?” You nod at him and smile slightly as he kisses your nose, it turns into a laugh when he gets insistent, peppering kisses all over your face until you’re shoving him off and smiling wide at him.

-

“So.” You have a spoonful of cereal halfway to your mouth when he comes into the kitchen. In all reality, you aren’t supposed to be here. You only stopped by for a quick snack before you went to head into work, but then there was something at the shop so your boss told you to stay home. You’d intended to detour to the campus library instead to catch up on some homework, but between your first and second bowls of cereal you had switched out of your outside clothes to sweats and an old t-shirt, and now you’re standing three feet away from Yang Jeongin.

“So?” You set the bowl down on the counter.

“You don’t want to spend my rut with me.” You draw your shoulders up to your ears defensively. You think something in your scent must turn sour because you see Jeongin wrinkle his nose.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know if you’d tell  me why.” You pause, picking up your spoon and stirring the milk around the bowl, listening to the clink clink clink of metal on ceramic. Something about his question confuses you.

“If?”

“Yeah, ‘if.’ I don’t want to pressure you for information if you’re not ready to give it. If you’re uncomfortable with spending my rut with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to tell me you’re uncomfortable, that’s also fine.”

“I don’t want to tell you why.” He shrugs. You’re surprised at how easy that was.

“That’s fine. I have another question though.”

“Hmm?”

“Could we hangout, or something? Before you steer clear of the house for a week and a half, I want to spend time with you. Unfortunately,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ve come to enjoy your company and if I don’t spend some time with you I might do something drastic.” He’s slowly approaching you now, crowding you against the counter. He’s given you plenty of time to walk away or move, but you haven’t, so he continues.

“Drastic, you say.” He hums, taking your bowl and putting it in the sink, not bothering to rinse it out.

“Drastic like breaking every single door that separates the two of us just to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, nose against your neck. His hair smells like baby powder, like his shampoo that you and Hyunjin sometimes steal. You can feel him shake with laughter when your scent changes with arousal as he gets in your space.

“You’re easy.” You hit his back slightly.

“You’re mean.”

“Will you hangout with me, though? I was mostly serious.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll hangout with you.”

“Great,” he says, and you let out a small shriek as he drags you in the direction of his room. The door is halfway closed when he yells across the house.

“I call dibs until my rut starts!” You can hear the groans and complaints through his now shut door.

-

So, you spend time with him, both before and after his rut, and nobody comments on how annoying it is that you’re monopolizing his time like you thought they would. There’s a point where Hyunjin interrupts you because he wants Jeongin’s dick in his mouth, and when you move to leave, they both start complaining. (You left anyway, not being ready for that just yet, but the idea made you feel warm regardless.) 

You don’t get to spend much time with him after that though, because then you have Minho and exams flooding your vision and your senses, and while one of those things is enjoyable, the other isn’t and for two seconds you’d like your brain to be off. Just for two. That time comes and it’s as you’re waking up from your post-fuck nap with Minho that it hits you.

“You said Innie was talking about me during rut?”

“What? Sweetheart, we just woke up.” Minho is rubbing his eyes, smacking his mouth, and blinking cutely. You feel the urge to pinch his cheek but worry that would land you in hot water so you just poke it instead.

“Yes, I know, I know, but. You said Jeongin was talking about me during his rut.”

“Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? You’re our Omega after all.” You flush again at his casual claim on you, he keeps catching you off guard with it.

“He never mentioned it to me.” Minho yawns and slings his arm over your waist.

“You were busy, of course he didn’t mention it to you. Besides, you seemed so … hesitant to spend his rut with him in the first place that he probably didn’t want to mention it at all.” You frown, brows furrowing as you think about it. You move to get out of bed when Minho stops you.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To talk to Jeongin.”

“It’s too early for one, and for two. I have some things planned for us.” His hand wanders up your shirt.

“But-”

“I thought you had learned enough to stop arguing with me? Does your mommy need to teach you a lesson?” He says this, but he’s not holding you back. If you wanted to, you could leave this bed and camp outside of Jeongin’s door until he woke up. But you don’t. You don’t even know what you want to say to him, and Minho is tracing soft circles on your skin and you’re struck with undeniable want. You ease yourself back into bed.

“That’s my pretty Omega. So good for me, hmm?”

-

You don’t get to talk to Jeongin until several days later. You’re too busy sleeping like the dead for a day and a half, then Chan steals you away for a celebratory dinner date, then when you finally get the chance to talk to him, you walk into his room and find him and Yongbok making out, so you’ve had to curb the conversation for later, until now.

“Innie!” He’s slipping his shoes on.

“Yeah?” He never ties them, you notice, ties them once and then slips them on and off over and over again.

“Where are you going?”

“On a walk.”

“Great.” You walk over to him and shove his jacket off his shoulders, then kick at his feet until he takes his shoes back off, and start dragging him to his room.

“What.” He’s confused despite the fact that he’s the one who let it get this far.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Okay?” He sits down on his bed, patting the spot next to him so you can sit too.

“Minho mentioned that you talked about me during your rut.” It comes out of you in a rush. Jeongin’s face flushes red. He covers his face with his hands, his huge hands with their stupidly long fingers.

“Ah. Yes. I did. Are you upset?”

“Am I up- Am I upset?” You’re incredulous. “One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and one of my Alphas wanted me during his rut and you think I’m upset?”

“Okay, to be fair. You didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea of my rut to begin with.”

“I was new to the pack!”

“You’d been with us for three months!”

“Like I said, new!” He huffs and knocks you onto your back, laying across you in the way you’ve seen the others do to him.

“Why did you come to talk to me about it?” You flush at his question and you can hear his little chuckle. The members joke that he learned how to be mischievous from Minho and Seungmin, and you’ve never seen it more than right now.

“Oh? I see.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Minho hyung says you like when people are mean.”

“Minho said what?!”

“I’m kidding, he refused to tell us what you two got up to, but now I know that I’m not too far off.” You grab a pillow from behind your head and smack him with it. He moves himself until your noses are touching and smiles at you. You smile back and poke around his face until your finger lands in a dimple.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” His voice is soft, low, because of how close he is to your face and he smirks when your scent fills the room. 

“You do?” You nod at him and he tuts.

“Minho’s taught you better than that.” You huff and pout at him. He laughs and kisses you.

“I’ll let you get away with it because you’re cute.” You beam at him and he smiles back.

He starts with kissing you, because of course he does. It’s soft and sweet and a little hesitant and it’s similar to the way you’ve seen him kiss Yongbok, but different from the way you’ve seen him kiss Seungmin and you’re struck with the realization that he sees you as something soft and precious. That he’ll hold you with the same amount of delicacy he uses to hold Felix and your heart stutters in your chest for a minute.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He’s pulling away, looking at you with wide eyes as your scent changes. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head at him, pulling him close for a hug for a minute as you calm yourself down.

You’ve never had a pack before, your culture has moved away from it. You had to move from your family for school and since then you’ve been relatively alone. It’s been a while since you’ve felt loved, and when you’re faced with the sheer amount of it the eight of them have to give it overwhelms you every time. He hasn’t hurt you, it’s the opposite.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Ah, I see. Hyungs’ said you might cry a little. That’s okay. Do you want to stop?” You shake your head at him, answering with a verbal “no” after he stares at you pointedly. You lean in to kiss him again and he responds with the same gentleness he did before and you can feel yourself slicking up in your pants. You hear him take a sharp inhale and then you feel his grip tighten where his hands were resting on the side of your face and neck.

“Jesus, I can see why hyung keeps you to himself all the time. You smell so fucking good.” He stops kissing you to start making out with your neck, you can feel him starting to scent you and you tug at him, whining.

“Innie-”

“Yeah, I know, but-” he cuts himself off with a groan and you can feel his hips press into yours and dear God.

“Is that your leg?”

“No.” You whine again. There’s no fucking way his dick is that big. You tell him so.

“Well. Prepare to eat your words because it is.”

You huff at him again, and really, he should spend less time around the more sarcastic pack members because his attitude is making your eye twitch. He sees it and smiles mischievously at you before landing a soft peck right below the same eye.

“I’d like to see how you handle Hannie or Seungmin hyung. They’re worse than I am.”

“They also probably move faster than you do.” He grumbles at you at that and gets to work undressing the two of you. He’s sliding his hoodie off when you’re filled with the urge to bite his biceps. They’ve gotten bigger since you’ve been introduced to him and you think it’s crazy because you hardly ever see him work out. Suddenly, there’s a large palm against your forehead and any forward movement you had started is quickly stopped.

“What are you doing?” You can feel your teeth click together as your mouth closes and you blink a couple times.

“Nothing.” He squints at you.

“You were going to bite me, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re a liar!” You’re being manhandled now, and you refuse to go down without a fight. You grab a pillow and nail him in the face with it.

“I am not! I’ve never- don’t pull my hair- I’ve never lied!”

“You’re doing it right- why are your nails so fucking long- right now!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Did you just fucking- ow! What the hell?” You finally manage to get your teeth on his arm and it’s just as great as you imagined it would be. Your victory is incredibly short lived because between one second and the next Jeongin has you pinned to the bed. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress and he has your arm twisted in a way that’s mildly uncomfortable, but that’s overshadowed by how you can feel him pressed against you to keep you pinned. He’s all lean muscle and you can feel where his shoulders press against yours and where his cock is pressed against your ass and if you tilt your hips just right, you can feel him brush against your slick hole.

“Oh? Does my pretty Omega want something?” You can hear the laughter in his voice. You can also hear how it’s dropped three octaves and you can feel it rumbling from his chest. You can feel how his cock is starting to leak against your skin.

“Jeongin-”

“I think,” he grabs your other arm, pinning your wrists at the small of your back, “that if you want anything you should beg for it.”

“Innie, you’re not being fair-”

“I’m not being fair? You bit me. I have you pinned. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to work for it.” You turn your head into the mattress and let out a small sob, wiggling a bit in Jeongin’s hold. His hands loosen on your wrists and he lifts his weight off of you enough that you could get out if you wanted to. Minho did this too, gave you signals with his body to let you know that it was okay to not want it, the problem is that you do. You like how Jeongin has you pinned, and you like the humiliation that’s going to come with begging for it.

He notices you haven’t moved and so his grip tightens on your wrists again. You feel the chuckle he lets out as he presses his weight down onto you again and you know your scent must be doing something because he inhales with his nose pressed straight against your neck.

“Get to begging, baby. I have all night.” You whine at that, wiggling and trying to push your hips back against his to fuck yourself onto his cock, but he pulls his hips back, readjusts until you couldn’t reach his cock unless you dislocated something and he laughs at you.

Jeongin does have all night, it turns out, because you spend a considerable amount of time with your forehead pressed into the mattress trying to will the shame that comes with wanting out of your body. At one point, he asks you if you’re alright, dropping the act for a bit and when you respond he resorts to taunting you.

He’s doing it now, taking his ridiculously large dick in his hand and gathering some of the slick that’s leaked between your legs to jerk it. You can hear the wet noises it’s making and you can’t help but think of how much louder it would be if he were actually fucking you. It turns out that your Alpha was thinking the same thing because he starts talking, and each word chips away at the lump in your throat.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby. Your slick is so warm, I bet it’d be warmer if I got it straight from the source, yeah? What do you think? You’re leaking so much you’ve made a wet spot on the bed, maybe I should fuck that instead, since you wanna be stubborn.” You whine in response.

“No? You don’t want me to do that? I think I should. Or should I just finish on your back?” Your next answering whine is more of a wail.

“Oh, I see. You’re a little cumwhore is that it? Want me to come inside of you? Hmm? Get our Omega pregnant?” You moan this time, drooling onto the sheets. Jeongin grabs your head and turns it to the side so he can see you better, or so that you can see him and how he’s about to waste his cum on you instead of in you. The drool smears onto your cheek and you can feel your eyes start to well up with tears because you know he’s close.

“Please.” It escapes from you in a pathetic whimper and the hand that was stroking his cock pauses.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” You know he did, but you also know that if you don’t repeat yourself and beg good enough he really will make good on his promise to finish on your back and leave you there.

“Innie, Jeonginnie, please. I want- I want-”

“Want what? Hmm? A slice of cake, a new Minecraft update?” You huff at his mocking, but it’s too wet to really hold any weight, and you can feel your lip wobbling, so you’re not surprised when what you say next is more of a sob than anything else.

“Your cock. Jeongin, Alpha, please. You said you wanted me during your rut, don’t you want me now?” It’s a low blow, and even through your desperation you know that, but you’ll do what it takes to get him to finally stick his huge dick in you.

“Oh, baby. I do. Don’t worry.” His fingers are searching for your entrance, stretching you out just enough for it to not burn too bad, but you’re so wet, and both of you are so needy, you know that you’ll just have to deal with the pain of not preparing for his stupid dick later because you want it now.

“Then,” he made the mistake of letting go of your wrists to grab your hip instead, and you ball your hands into fists and hit the bed in frustration, “why aren’t you fucking me?” He huffs a laugh.

“All that and you’re still giving me trouble? You’re lucky you’re cute, Omega. So lucky.” You start to kick your feet at him but you’re stopped by the fact that he’s slowly starting to push into you, making a home for himself inside your body and slowly forcing the breath from your lungs.

It burns, and you expected it to with how unprepared you were, but it feels good and you don’t care so that will have to be a later-you problem.

“Jesus, you feel so good, baby. Better than I imagined.” He starts a rough rhythm right off the bat, and you’re needy enough that it doesn’t bother you, besides, you’re pretty sure he was edging himself earlier, so he’s entitled to this.

“Felix hyung and I talked about it, you know. When I was in rut. You left.” The last part comes out as a soft growl, and he coughs to get himself in check before pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.

“You left and I thought about how warm you’d feel inside. Felix wondered too, said he wanted to know how sweet you were.” You hear him chuckle. “Y’know I got him to come untouched from just talking about you, pretty baby?”

You gasp, letting out a shuddery moan at that, and you hear Jeongin laugh above you. You were already halfway to delirious with how good he was fucking you- hard enough to shake the bed and bang the headboard against the wall- but something about knowing that the pack wants you always makes you just that much wetter, always makes your head that much lighter, so you can’t help but clench down around his cock and get everything around you soaked with more of your slick.

“Jeonginnie, Alpha, I- please- I want to-”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, baby. I won’t make you beg for this one.” He presses himself down against your back, knocking your knees out from under you so you’re flat against the bed and have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it.

“The next one, though. I make no promises.”

The new angle has you going dumber than you were before and you can feel Jeongin’s breath in puffs of hot air against your neck. You whine at him, moaning as you’re trapped underneath his body and when you come it’s with white spots dancing across your vision. You’re just coming down when you feel him start to pull out and you surprise both yourself and him with the growl that comes out of you.

“Yang Jeongin, so help me God if you do not come inside of me-” He shuts you up by doing just that, bullying his knot into you until it pops and rolling the two of you onto your sides so you’re not laying in the multiple spots of wet that have stained his sheets.

“You’re bossy.” It’s said against your hair while his stupidly big hands come up to massage the crick in your neck that’s finally made itself present. “How do you get away with that when you’re with Minho hyung?”

“I listen to him. Mostly.” He pinches you, you pinch back. You sit in silence for a minute.

“Was it good? Or, as good as you imagined?” You try not to sound insecure as you say it, but you know that you’ve probably missed the mark.

“Better. Way better.” He kisses the spot he was just massaging and winds his arm around your middle. “Nap time. You’ll need your energy when I get you back for being a little shit.”

“I wasn’t.” He scoffs at you.

“Yeah, sure. And my name is Chan.”

“Hi, Chan, how are you?”

“Cancel what I said earlier. The second we aren’t locked together anymore I’m kicking you out.” You laugh at him.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 18] || [Chapter 20]

Rating: E Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. handjobs/fingering (unspecified). ejaculation (mentioned). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: smut. smut. sweet. sweet. smut..

Chapter 19: Slippery Slope.

“Fuck… Johnny…” You whine as his hand slowly strokes up and down, his fingers rubbing over every inch of your skin.

“Shh… The acoustics, bonnie…” He tells you. “The neigbours are goin’ t’ear ye.” He whispers.

“W-Well…!” You try to complain but the words die in your lips as your head dips back against his chest.

Your bathtub isn’t the biggest, but you and Johnny were able to fit yourselves inside, with him sitting behind you, spooning you. His thick, muscular arms are wrapped around you the same way they were at the shop a week ago, protective, warmth… strong.

He’s been surprisingly gentle this whole time, washing your body and helping get your back, his rough hands sometimes sliding and coping a feel of your skin as it was lathered up with soap.

Somehow that evolved into his hand being between your thighs, making you moan and squirm in his embrace. “Shh…” He keeps shushing you as if he’s not doing anything that should warrant them.

“Stop shushing me, Johnny…” You whine. “You’re so frustrating!” You grumble.

“Don’t be giving me lip now, bonnie…” He whispers as he bites your earlobe and then draws his lips down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder.

“F-Fuck…” You shiver as he sucks onto the skin right where you neck meets your collarbone, his tongue lapping at the skin as his fingers work you over.

The water’s getting cold, and your legs are the first feeling the change in temperature, propped up on the edges of the tub so he can keep touching you, while his own are barely contained inside.

But you don’t care. The pleasure he’s wringing out of you with surprisingly nimble fingers considering how thick and big they are makes you whine and moan, your sounds of pleasure echoing off the tile in the bathroom.

The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter with each second he spends playing with you, your legs trembling and your whole body twitching and squirming in his embrace as you chase your orgasm.

And when it finally crashes onto you, you jump a bit, almost headbutting Johnny in the process, your head falling back on his strong, hard shoulder, some water spilling over the edge of the bath.

His name falls from your lips as your eyes flutter closed and your panting becomes the only thing heard in your bathroom. He grunts behind you, clearly enjoying the sight of you coming undone, his face resting against your shoulder as he sighs against your back.

Once you’ve finally caught you breath, he kisses your shoulder. “That feel good?” He coos in your ear and carefully licks up a stripe from your neck to your jawline before peppering kisses around your jawline.

You nod at him, eyes still closed and sigh happily, snuggling into his warm, robus embrace. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.” He murmurs with a chuckle.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed, the water’s getting cold.” He tells you as he moves up and presses a kiss to your temple.

That stirs you a bit from the moment and you look up at him. “But… You didn’t get anything…” You whisper.

“Oh, mo leannan…” He says with a playful smirk on his lips. “I literally just shot come all over your back.” He admits, causing your eyes to widen.

“You…” You say with shock and he immediately laughs at the look on your face. 

“Oh yeah. Why’d you think I said ‘let’s get you cleaned up and dressed’ and not just… ‘let’s get you dressed’?” He teases.

-

After the bath, he helps you both get dressed and takes you back to the living room, snuggling up with you on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both. 

Unlike with Kyle, who laid under you and let you rest between his legs against your chest - or Simon who you makes you sleep on his chest, with one arm around you - Johnny prefers to spoon you, the two of you fitting just so on the couch before one of you (aka you) are teetering on the edge.

He gives you one of his biceps to rest on, while his other arm wraps around your waist and stomach, his hand resting right on top of your sternum and carefully rubbing your chest. It’s not necessarily a dirty touch, but not an innocent one either.

You find yourselves dozing off, wrapped up in one another, the TV playing some silly action movie which, despite the loud explosions and gunshots, is surprisingly easy to tune out and sleep through.

It’s already dark outside when you stir awake. Johnny’s sleeping right behind you, his breath slow and even, his warm exhales tickling the back of your neck. The sitting room is completely dark, the TV playing some other movie now, lighting everything in a blue-ish light.

Atop the coffee table is a phone, vibrating and buzzing, the screen lit up with a phone call. Still groggy, you grab the phone, assuming it’s your own, and flick the green button to accept the call without looking at the number.

“Uhm, hello?” You greet before you force yourself to suppress a yawn.

“BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, I’VE BEEN CALLIN’ FOR AN HOUR!” A gruff, manly voice shouts on the other end. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

The shouts stirred you a bit more awake and made you stiffen. “Excuse me?!” You complain.

“Wait. Who’s this?” A gruff voice asks on the other end.

“I should be asking you, you’re the one calling me and losing your bloody mind shoutin’ at me?” You murmur in confusion, keeping your voice low to not wake up Johnny.

“And I’m asking you, because I know bloody well I called MacTavish and not… whoever you are.” The man you’re speaking with is rude, but his voice is… vaguely familiar.

That’s when your brain fog clears enough to allow you to realize that you just picked up Johnny’s phone, not your own.

“Oh, shite.” You grumble. “Sorry. I heard a phone ringing, I thought it was my phone-” You try to justify yourself.

“Oh, bloody hell, I’m sorry for yellin’ at you.” The man on the other end ends up saying, a bit more politely. “MacTavish’s with you?” He grumbles

“Yeah… He’s asleep…” You reply. “The phone was on Vibration.” You explain. “That’s probably why he didn’t wake up…” You explain.

“No wonder… I’ve called 42 times…” The male voice complains on the other end. “You mind waking him up and putting my damn soldier on the line?” He fails at his attempts at politeness.

And that’s when your brain fog clears even more. ‘My soldier’... The only person who’d call Johnny ‘his’ soldier is his captain.

“John?” You ask him in earnest. The memories of the night you spent with John come flooding back. Not that you ever forgot it, but you’ve been a bit more preocupied.

And that’s when John Price realizes who he’s speaking to as well, likely also remembering the way the dulcet of your voice called out his name while he buried himself inside of you. “Bloody fuckin’ hell…” He murmurs. 

After a brief pause to breathe, he speaks again. “Hi, darling.” He ends up saying.

“Hi, John.” You say softly in return.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

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[dira333]

Part of a Family - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

Don't look at me, I'm in my Baby Era - tagging @shoulmate

You’re not surprised to find a warm weight settled against your ribcage when you wake up, the golden morning light drawing patterns into white hair.

“Hey love,” you drag a hand through the mess. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Your son grumbles something under his breath, his hold tightening.

One look at the other side of your bed - empty and perfectly made - tells you everything you need to know.

“Did Papa wake you when he left?” You don’t miss the sniffle, no matter how well it’s hidden.

“So you found him gone when you came in this morning,” you guess, rubbing a comforting circle over his back. “Did you know he always checks in on you before he leaves?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Shouji whines, “Didn’t see him..”

“Neither was I. We can’t always be awake when he has to leave. Sometimes I think it’s better we’re asleep. You know we often make him late.”

You let your fingertips dance over the soft skin at his sides, smile when he fights the giggles trying to spill out of him.

“How about we make breakfast, huh? We can make Papa a Bento Box too. You wanna bring him his Lunch?”

Shouji considers it for a second before nodding. But he’s not that eager to get out of bed yet, climbing into your lap the moment you sit up.

You sigh, but you let him, curl your arms around his small body as he sinks into your embrace.

-

Shouji’s small for his age, and almost an exact replica of his father. Only the sides are reversed, leaving his hair white on the left side instead of his right. 

It’s no wonder that Shouto’s family is obsessed with him, no doubt trying to right some wrongs of the past.

“Momma?” Shouji asks, snuggled into you. “Can I get freckles?”

“Freckles?” You blink. “Why?”

“Can I?”

“I don’t know. Your Papa doesn’t have any. But we can draw some on if you want some for today.”

“You can draw them on?” He asks, astonished by this possibility. “Can I look like Uncle Deku?”

You laugh, swaying him left to right. “Sure. But I draw a line at green hair.”

He giggles as you pepper his head with kisses, blow raspberries against his cheeks.

“That tickles!”

-

“Look!” Shouji points at the banner across the street. “Uncle Tsuki!”

You nod, taking in the giant version of Hero Dynamight. “What do you think of his suit?”

“‘s ugly,” Shouji comments, sucking on his thumb. You’re trying to make him stop it, but so far to no avail. “Too much orange.”

“Hm? What colors do you like?”

“Blue, like Papa’s suit.” He thinks for a moment. “Purple’s nice too.”

“Yeah?” You brush a hand through his hair, mix up the white and red. “You like Purple? Do you know someone who wears purple?”

“Uncle Toshi,” he counts on his fingers. “Uncle…” You can tell he’s searching for the name. “Noru?”

“You mean Minoru? Yeah, he wears purple too… Now, do you wanna take my hand as we cross the street?”

He grabs it, his small fingers curling around yours. “Can we get ice cream, Momma?” 

So he has noticed the little ice cream cart sitting at the corner. 

“Maybe on our way back. We’re eating Lunch with Papa first.”

You watch as he bites his lip, considering it.

“But I want ice cream now.”

“I know Honey. Up…” You let him hop up onto the sidewalk. “But if we get ice cream now, we’re going to be late for Lunch. Papa’s waiting for us. And what will he say if we come in eating ice cream?”

“None for me?” Shouji asks, his eyes big and round.

“Yep. None for me. But we can ask him if we can come out and get ice cream together. Is that an idea?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Papa can make the ice cream stay cold longer.”

“That he can do.”

-

“Look, I don’t have-” Shouto stops midsentence as he spots you in the doorway, the frustration on his face washing away. “I’ll call you back in an hour. Thank you.”

You doubt the person on the other end could get any word in before he ends the call, getting up from his chair.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asks. His smile is warm, and as always, a little tentative. It’s been years but he still doubs sometimes that this is all real.

“We made Lunch!” Shouji declares, pointing at the bag over your shoulder. “I cut the sausage!”

“You did? Amazing!” With one swift motion Shouto has picked him up, hoisting him up so that he’s sitting comfortably in his arms. “Hey there, Shouji. Couldn’t get my Good Morning Kiss today.”

“I was asleep!” Shouji points out, leaning in to press his lips against his Father’s cheeks. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too. Think I can give Momma a Good Morning Kiss too?”

“Yeah,” Shouji nods and waits until his Father has leaned in to kiss you to burst out with the news.

“I’m Uncle Deku now.”

“You are?” Shouto leans back a little to squint at him. “How?”

“I got freckles!” Shouji points at the little dots covering his nose and cheeks. “Momma made me Uncle Deku!”

“Are you as strong as him too?!”

“Yes!” And you watch, chuckling to yourself, as little Shouji proudly flexes his small bicep.

It’s a show, watching them interact. 

Most of the times it’s hard to tell who loves who more. Shouto his son or Shouji his father.

“Oh,” Shouji blinks up at his Dad. “Can we get ice cream?”

“Absolutely!”

You clear your throat and Shouto blinks an apologetic smile in your direction. “But Lunch first.”

-

Shouji’s sitting on the ground in front of you, explaining to a flock of disinterested doves that he’s got a lot of Uncles and Aunts and all of them are Heroes.

“There’s Uncle Tsuki, he makes boom. Uncle Jirou makes himself hard, like… like a door! Unkle Denki fights with Ele-Ele- with Ticity. Uncle Tenya is funny, because he’s really fast. But he’s very strict, he never lets me eat ice cream before Lunch! Aunty Chako makes me float! All the way up until I touch the ceiling! And Aunty Tsuyu pulls me back with her tongue, it’s sticky and wet and it tickles…”

“Can we have another one?” Shouto asks, right in the middle of that, his hand curled around yours, his thigh pressed against yours. If you could sit any closer - without sitting on his lap - you probably would. 

“Another one?” You ask, pretending not to understand. Shouji’s too lost in his monologue to listen.

“Another kid? He’s getting bigger by the minute. Soon we’ll have to Quirk-Train him. Then he’s off to school. I can even take a day off per week if you need it.”

“Stop,” you ask, your voice soft. You reach out to cradle his face in your hands, watch him lean into the touch with that vulernable look in his eyes.

Shouto’s learned to ask for things, but that doesn’t mean he excepts to get them just like that.

“I’m already pregnant.”

You watch as it dawns on him, little by little and then all at once.

His lips are on yours before you know it, half-cold and half-hot, meeting right in the middle. His kisses are burning though, elated and anxious, almost forgetting where you are.

“Papa?” Shouji asks in the middle of that, pulling you apart with his confused voice. “Momma?”

“Everything’s okay,” you explain, pulling him up onto your lap. “Papa’s a little excited, that’>s all.”

“About what?”

“About you being a big brother.”

“A big brother?” He considers that for a moment. “What’s that?”

“Like Uncle Natsuo,” Shouto explains, his voice thick with emotion. “Or Touya. They’re my big brothers.”

“Oh,” Shouji blinks. “Okay.”

And Shouto laughs, carefree and open, pulling Shouji onto his lap instead.

“More than okay,” he promises. “It will be great.”

- - -

“Momma?” Shouji asks, leaning into you. “Why is her face so weird.”

“She didn’t have much space in there,” you explain, pointing at your belly with your free hand as you cradle the little girl in your other arm. “So she was a little squished in. It will smooth out soon.”

“Oh, okay.” He leans in further, one curious finger booping the tiny nose.

“Hi Shouko,” Shouji whispers. “I’m your big brother.”

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

Should I make this part of the Baby Series? Where you can ask for more updates?

Part two is up Baby Series

[ossiethegreat]

hue makes an appearance again.. if any of yall know me from tiktok and saw my first post about him ily

don’t mind me @toffeebrew @howlsofbloodhounds

Yapping below \/

So initially he didn’t have much of a story because I’m not very creative and I blank out whenever I try to make something original so yeah.

basically, if Color were ever to get error-d, I think he would be on a hike, probably in some random AU that had nice scenery or something. He’s wearing a rain jacket because it was raining at the place he was, and he he just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and Error or some other entity was destroying it or something. As for how he got into the anti void,,, yall can use ur imagination 😭

(That’s the best explanation I can give, kill me)

I was more focused on the actual character than his backstory, so I’ll just explain my ideas of how he would act and such..

I called him Static Hue, or just Hue for short. (It’s a synonym of color I’m very creative guys)

I think whatever caused the error in his code amalgamated the human souls, and kind of made them fuse together, so Hue can never understand what they are saying because they speak over each other all the time. The different traits overlap and he feels mixed emotions all the time, along with intense mood swings and anxiety attacks. His flames also change color at a much faster rate, so people with epilepsy will stay FAR away from him 😭😭😭😭

Fun fact: he’s also blind. The only thing he can actually see is the color of his flames (which change all the time), and it tends to give him headaches and nausea. His grabblings are always out and just attached to his back so he can use them to move around.

As for the strings, they are very hot to the touch and leave burn marks on however he uses them on. They burn himself as well but he doesn’t pay any attention to it.

Hue’s memory is very jumbled, he didn’t necessarily forget about everything, but he doesn’t remember why exactly he does things. He knows he needs to help killer and protect him at all costs, but he isn’t sure why. He knows he hates Nightmare and REALLY wants that guy dead, but he doesn’t know where that hatred came from. And of course he naturally feels safer near the epic trio, and nervous staying in the same places for too long.

hue’s pretty obsessive over Killer for this reason. His need to help killer was multiplied by a gazillion, and he tends to just.. kidnap Killer and take him random places to keep him close. Sometimes he accidentally hurts him, but he doesn’t realize it, the only thing he can think about is keeping him safe and close to himself. On the contrary, he gets super aggressive and defensive at the mention of Nightmare, and if he were to see him face to face he would attack without hesitation. He knows his job is to keep Killer safe and away from Nightmare, and that’s really his only motive. He just doesn’t know where it came from.

Similarly to most errors, he has trouble speaking because of stuttering and glitches. He also can’t form very clear thoughts because the souls are constantly influencing his behavior. He has trouble explaining his thoughts and feelings, he tends to speak more in actions (as in he would crush you to death in a hug to show affection.)

anyway. If anyone wants to add onto this or share thoughts I’d appreciate it..

Here’s some older drawings of him LMAO

[luxaofhesperides]

Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

[dizscreams]

Romantic headcanons with lil ol hobie

Absolutely 🫡

Romantic Headcanons with Hobie Brown — ★

I don’t think you guys would go out for dates I think a lot of the time it’s hanging out in each others room

Like he’s strumming his guitar and you’re studying or drawing whatever JUST YES

I think he’d definitely prefer that than taking you out to a fancy restaurant or smth like that

Maybe even movie nights?

Random thought but a little self care night 🤭

Maybe face masks (which he was reluctant to do but you made him anyway), painting each others nails, etc etc

Not really self care but him helping you dye your hair!!! Can’t get that thought out of my head

OMG SHOPPING WITH HIM!! You dragging him shopping and he acts like he doesn’t wanna be there but he actually kinda likes helping you pick out stuff

Don’t even get me started on you making him carry all of your bags or you showing off to him in the dressing room 👀

UGH OMG I HAD A CUTE THOUGHT!! One time he watched you do your makeup and he wanted to learn how to do eye liner

So you taught him one day and he likes doing eye liner every now and again

Maybe you were on his lap and did it for him one day! (He wouldn’t let you do a full face of makeup on him though 😔)

Likes picking out jewelry for your outfits

If you guys are opposites I can see a lot of playful arguments about each others music tastes

He definitely likes at least one song you showed him but wont admit it cause he’s stubborn!

If we’re gonna talk about physical touch I’d say he likes it just definitely not in public

Maybe a hand on your shoulder sometimes but other than that I’m not sure

In private though he’s always leaning his head on your shoulder or putting his head on yours

Likes to tease and make fun of you

Jokingly ofc he’d never let it go too far

He issss in a band so ofc you’re going to almost every performance of his

Veryyy protective when it comes to his job and you

Doesn’t like letting you come to fights with him or trying to help cause he’s terrified you’re going to get hurt

If you’re also a spider person you guys make a rlly good duo

He’s just a really laid back guy in general so he doesn’t raise his voice at you

Maybe on accident a few times but he always apologizes ofc

He’s respectful 🫡

OMG RANDOM BUT NAPPING TOGETHER

WHEWWW imagine you both got done with a fight and you just need to rest so you take a nap together! Or if you’re not a spider person then you both had a hard day and wanted to take a nap together

I don’t think he gets jealous thaaat easily. Like someone would have to be THROWING themselves at you and he’ll step in.

He wouldn’t be starting fights or drama honestly I think he’d just wrap an arm around your waist and walk away with you

I think he’ll go on random tangents about stuff he’s interested in or even abt stuff he doesn’t like 😭

You’re just listening to him like “yeah totally” because he’s talking so fast

He’s proud of your guy’s relationship and he’s caught himself talking about you a lot to his friends

He tries to shut up before they say anything but they’re already teasing him

BUT ID SAY OVERALL he’s just a really chill dude who likes spending time with his partner :)

All I can think of rn so I hope you enjoyed! and ty for all the requests I’ll be working on them all day <3 🫡