#bitty socks

[totallylulalutiacreations]

I had so much fun drawing Socks for our Holiday Bitty Swap for @lazyasyoucansee ! His little pirate attitiude and his design transfer were so fun :D

[cranberrytea451]

Prev post https://www.tumblr.com/cranberrytea451/725956616375222272/prev-post

Based on this meme that @lazyasyoucansee sent me

[honeyaubade]

who knew blonde's looked great in blue...

[turtleblogatlast]

The baby turtles being so small they can wear socks as turtleneck sweaters…

[cranberrytea451]

@lazyasyoucansee bitty dust named sock.

[bittyfromquotev]

Why does he kinda look like rewrite despite not being rewrite

[cranberrytea451]

Okay now that I'm done drawing those mutual bitties, I think I shall go back to drawing the regularly scheduled program.

[zepskies]

Serendipity

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader 

Summary: Now that you and Dean are married, you begin to live out the next phase of your dream. However, reality has to check in some time.

AN: Ready for some more Smoke Eater-verse? (AKA: firefighter Dean!) Here’s a little window into their little life after the first sequel story, Something Real. This also fulfills a square for my Round 2 masterlist for @jacklesversebingo.

JVB Prompt: Reminiscing

Posted on Patreon: 5/02/2025

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship (finally married!), parental anxiety, and tooth-rotting fluff, let’s be honest.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

Exhaustion poured from every cell of your body. Four corners of white walls surrounded you while you laid in a hospital bed in recovery. You were sore and aching, sweat still clung to your skin and in your frizzy hair, and yet, you smiled softly.

You turned your head to watch your husband pace, one slow, gentle bouncing step after another with the bundle in his arms.

“Are you gonna keep hogging her?” you teased.

Dean looked over at you, smiling. “You got to carry her for ten months. Now it’s my turn.”

He lowered his gaze down to her, that perfect face finally sleeping peacefully. She was so small, so delicate. Just hours old. Ordinarily his sense of manhood wouldn’t allow him to talk like this, let alone think like this, but this baby girl had just carved out the widest hole in his heart and burrowed right in. It was a deep, fierce, protective love, greater than he could’ve ever imagined.

It fucking scared him to death.

Just holding her in his arms felt like holding an anvil of responsibility. And she was only seven and a half pounds.

Dean’s throat constricted again. He had to blink back the salty sting glossing in his eyes.

Your gaze softened knowingly. “Hey.”

His attention caught on you, on your hand raising from the bed to reach out for him. Dean went over and carefully sat on the edge of the thin mattress. He couldn’t wait to get you home in a real bed, so you could be more comfortable after nearly eighteen hours of labor.

He switched the baby over to his left arm, tucking her in the crook of it, the way Sam told him to. That way Dean could sweep a hand over your hair, caress your cheek. Your eyes closed at his touch.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you breathed. So tired. So very tired.

“Yeah, that sounds like Winchester fine,” Dean said with a smirk. He rested an elbow against your pillow so he could lay a kiss above your brow.

You giggled softly. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s okay.”

You gazed up at him, then down at your daughter. Your eyes filled with tears almost on reflex while you stroked her soft cheek.

“It’s almost too much, you know?” you said, your voice sticky with emotion. “Like…I love you. I’d take a bullet for you and everything. But when I tell you, I would kill for her?”

Dean’s burst of laughter threatened to shake both of you on the bed. He tried to keep it quiet for the baby’s sake.

“I’m talking itty bitty infinitesimal pieces that they’d have to find in Forensic Files, like 50 years later,” you sniffled. All the while, your fingers stroked your baby’s cheek and forehead, her little hands and sock-covered feet.

“I know the feeling,” Dean agreed. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you shifted to lay more against him than on the pillow. You both breathed together in that quiet, perfect space, where everything was good and right.

A knock on the door disturbed that peace.

You narrowed your eyes dangerously at the door. Dean noticed and hid a smile. You’d been a scary kind of pregnant lady.

“Yeah?” he called out at a moderate volume. It could be Sam and Eileen coming back. They’d waited in the hospital all night, but after getting to meet the baby, they left with their one-year-old son to go home and get some rest.

Or maybe it was Andréa and Benny. They’d just gotten back from their honeymoon yesterday, but they promised they’d be here soon.

It could’ve also been Meg and Cas, or even Ellen and Jo. So many people were already invested in this kid’s life. They’d been giving you and Dean support ever since you found out you were pregnant. (Six weeks to the day after your honeymoon. No, Dean’s “baby fever” did not abate.)

Despite your overwhelming happiness, you knew from that very day that the countdown had begun. You were eventually going to have to take a break from your catering business.

Dean would need more flexibility at the firehouse, and he’d been building up his side business as a mechanic to increase the money flow. Plus, starting a new family meant that soon enough, you would probably outgrow your two-bedroom apartment, no matter how much you both loved it there.

There was so much to think about that it made your head do more spins and summersaults than an Olympic gold medal gymnast, but—

“It’s me,” came the gruff reply from the other side of the door.

Dean smiled, sharing a glance with you. Your expression softened, and you nodded at him in agreement. He got up with the baby still carefully cradled in his arms and went over to open the door. There stood John Winchester holding a modest bouquet of flowers from the hospital gift shop. Dean knew because he’d just made a trip down there himself. The ribbon wrapped around John’s pink roses matched Dean’s yellow tulips.

“Hey, come on in,” Dean whispered.

“Yeah? Is it okay?” John asked, giving you a wave in greeting.

You smiled at your father-in-law. “Hey, John.”

“Of course, grandpa,” Dean replied to him. “Come meet your second grandbaby.” He clasped the man’s shoulder and welcomed him into the room. John smiled wryly on his way over to kiss your cheek.

“Yeah, you and your brother just wanna keep giving me gray hairs,” he remarked.

But his eyes softened the moment they fell on his granddaughter. His first one. Dean’s smile warmed as he brought her closer to his father.

“Wanna hold her?” Dean asked.

John cleared his throat. At your smile and encouraging hand on his arm, he turned and positioned himself to take the baby. Dean deposited her into his arms, then went over to sit beside you on your other side. You leaned into him with a contended sigh. He pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

Meanwhile, John held his granddaughter the same way he’d held Sam’s firstborn son; the way he held Sam himself as an infant; the way he held Dean, his firstborn son. Fatherly pride and a deep undercurrent of love welled up in his chest as he reminisced to himself, compelling him to clear his throat for a second time. His eyes shone glassy with that feeling.

“She’s beautiful. Just beautiful,” he said eventually, his voice deep and gruff. Though he glanced over at Dean with a certain smirk. “You know, they say when God gives a man a little girl, it’s payback for all the skirt chasin’ he did when he was young.”

Dean’s smile fell.

You snorted a laugh—so hard that your body shook with it.

Dean began to pout. You grabbed your husband’s chin playfully and shot him a sly look. 

“Then he really does have a sense of humor,” you said.

AN: My heart melts for Grandpa John lol, especially in the Smoke Eater-verse. It was fun to come back to these two for a hot minute. I can't believe it's already been almost two years since I wrote the main series! 😵❤️‍🔥

Next week, I'll be dropping a sequel to Over the Bridge! Then we'll be dipping back into the Break Me Down-verse for yet another adventure in pregnancy! Honestly, I didn't realize I was writing all these "baby" stories and sequel stories lately, but maybe I've got some baby fever? 🤣🤣 Which is kind of crazy, since I'm currently single and haven't really thought about wanting kids up until now. Maybe it's just the thought of Dean and Ben with kids that's got my fanning myself. 😮‍💨 ahem

Anyway. lol. Enjoy!~ ❤️

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Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @kaleldobrev

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @impala-dreamer @spnaquakindgdom

[bunni-v1]

Hnnghh christmas Lighter smut where reader is dressed in nothing but a long ribbon and bow bc he’s been a good boy this year

🍓Did u read my mind? Get outta there… jkjk, but seriously this is EXACLTY what I was thinking about. I really can’t dedicate the time to a full fic, which breaks my little gay heart, but imagine with me if you would… (this is a full fic btw i fucking lied to you and myself)

Tw: Nsfw; kinda rough (not too rough); UNEDITED ITS HORRENDOUS

Mdni

Christmas with the Sons of Calydon is pretty atypical. They have their own traditions that most New Eirduians would scoff at, but they’re rather important to those who live in these parts. Drinking, singing together (usually drunkenly and offkey), taking bike rides out to start a fire and literally burn away past regrets of the year, and of course fights — plenty of fights.

You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting part, usually meant more work for you to do, but Lighter always seemed to have fun. Obviously he did, he never lost — he hardly broke a sweat for the most part. And he loved showing off, especially if you were there to watch him. Everything else was mostly normal, though… a little odd but custom made to your little ragtag group, and you loved it.

It felt warm, cozy, like family. They passed out gifts, most of them hand made or incredibly thoughtful since money was scarce for most of you. Lighter had gotten you a (rather expensive) bracelet with your and his initials engraved on it. It was sweet, and unexpected from the guy who pretended like the holiday was nothing for the months leading up to it.

It made you melt on the inside and feel nice and warm. However… his nonchalance about the holiday cause you one… teeny tiny, itty bitty problem. You had no clue what to get him, and you hadn’t gotten him anything — time had run out and no one would give you any good hints.

His insistence that you didn’t need to get him anything in return made your stomach ache. It was hard to focus on his fight when your head was rushing with ways to rectify the horrific mistake you’d made quickly. The red ribbon of the jewelry box wrapped around your fingers tightly, then unwound as you mulled over your options.

You could get him something for his bike, but you’d have to drive to the city and it’s unlikely he’d let you go without him — that’s if the stores were even open this late on a holiday. Maybe you could craft up something quick and easy, if you could get back to your place there surely would be something, but… that felt cheap. Especially compared to the bracelet.

“That ribbon’s pretty,” Caesar says next to you, drawing you from your thoughts, “Must’ve been one real fancy place he went to for ya.”

You sigh, leaning back against the wall a little, looking at the ribbon as you twisted it around, “I’m sure it was. He’s so hopeless sometimes.”

“Only because you’re so sweet on him,” She teases, nudging your shoulder lightly.

A laugh huffs out of your chest, then an idea strikes you. The ribbon is pretty. You actually had some like it back at your place, stored away from last years festivities. You twist the ribbon one last time, and then you grin, wide and wild. Lighter catches your eye as he socks his opponent in the jaw, smirking at you like he’d won a prize.

“Hey, Caesar,” You hum, turning to your friend who seemed a little uneasy at your expression, “How long do you think you can keep him distracted for me.”

She hums, watching him thoughtfully, “I’ll buy ya fifteen minutes — wait, why?”

“You’ll hear later~” You hum with a wink, and practically skip back to your place, leaving Caesar alone to deal with your very adrenaline filled boyfriend on her own.

It takes you half the time Caesar said she could get you to find the damn ribbon, and the other half is spent fighting for your life to get the thing on and look at least a little sexy. You tried to recall old articles you’d read on bondage and shibari, but it was hard to do without a guide. You’d managed to get all the good bits wrapped up and hidden, with a few extra crosses to make it look pretty.

You don’t get a chance to check because you hear Lighters heavy footsteps outside the door nearly as soon as you’ve tied the bow comfortably around your neck. Your able to sort’ve arrange yourself seductively on the bed for him just as the front door open and he calls out to you. You could tell he was annoyed from his voice alone. He never liked it when you left his shows early.

“Caesar told me you headed back here,” He called, boots thumping as he threw them off, “We’re you not enjoying the show?”

It’s a tease, you know it is, but there was an underlying annoyance in his voice that sent a tingle up your spine. He pushes the bedroom door open incredibly slowly, to the point you think he’s trying to surprise you with something. You have the gall to feel stupid for a moment right before his eyes land on you, and he stops at he takes in the sight.

There is an audible shudder as his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline. He takes his sunglasses off, revealing those pretty green eyes that rake in every inch of you with hunger. Then, he smirks, shoving the bedroom door closed with his shoulder already working his gloves and jacket off to the floor. Forgotten without a second thought. The rest of his clothes follow quickly after.

“Merry Christmas!” You cheer, though you’re more nervous than happy. He clearly likes it, according to the quickly growing tent in his pants and how fast he is to strip himself, but he’s a little too quiet for your liking.

He sinks onto the mattress in front of you, hands ghosting around the bright red ribbon. Like if he touches it, it’ll all fall apart in his grasp. He traces each inch of it with careful practiced restraint, following the fabrics flow across your body until he remembers that you are under the fabric and he lands on your face.

His eyes soften when you smile nervously up at him, fingers tracing the apple of your cheek with such admiration it nearly makes you cry. “You like it?” You ask softly, unsure of yourself.

He scoffs like you’re stupid for wondering, “This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It draws a genuine laugh out of you, which he follows with his own as he comes down to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Then a soft kiss that trails down to your lips, easing you into a slow careful dance of love and passion.

He readjusts your position so carefully, you almost don’t notice he’s doing it until he’s between your legs. Pressing them open then pressing his dick to the ribbons wrapping up your folds from him. You’re already dripping, the adrenaline from earlier enough to get you going, but the added friction just makes it worse. You’d never be able to reuse this stuff, that’s for sure.

His hands glide over your stomach, following the ribbon with lazy easy until he’s found the one covering you from him. His thumbs slide under the pieces, rubbing over the flesh of your abdomen gently. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva keeping you connected as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” He murmurs quietly, “You could’ve given me a smile and I would’ve been happy.”

You shy away, “Well… I almost didn’t have anything to get you, but your gift, mmm, inspired me.”

He chuckles at you, reaching down to run his dick against your still covered folds. The silky fabric oddly making everything feel more intense. “I can see that. Very cute, by the way.”

“I know, thank you,” You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he presses the two of you back into a laying position, “Now are you gonna unwrap your present, or are you gonna keep teasing yourself.”

A roll of the eyes and another smirk, “Y’know, I’ve never been a fan of ruining the wrapping paper. Shits expensive… so how about we go nice and slow.”

As he says that, he slides his dick between the ribbon, right up against your throbbing clit. You let out a surprised sound, quickly melting into sighs of pleasure and he fucks into the ribbon. Each push and pull stimulates your aching pussy into gushing out more for him, clenching on nothing as he fucks himself against you at a leisurely pace.

You take the chance to look down, moaning out as he head of him touches your thigh. The sight is something you’d see in a porno. Lighter follows your eyes, smiling to himself when he catches you practically going cross eyed at the sight.

“We look good together, don’t we, sugar?” He purrs. A rare nickname, sweet and extra praiseworthy — just like he thinks you are.

You nod along with him, fluttering your eyes back to his with a dumb little smile. Each drag of his dick makes your toes curl and nails dig into his broad shoulders. He sighs at the sensation, pressing kisses into your skin to quiet himself up. He’d rather listen to you, after all, and this was a gift for him.

His fingers begin to crawl up your body, dancing along the ribbon excitedly. They make sure to stop and tweak your nipples through the fabric, humming when he feels they’re sufficiently hard and sensitive under his touch. Then, finally, they reach the neatly tied bow around your neck.

The tug at it, gently unwrapping it from your neck and pulling it away with ease. Replacing the red of it with his tongue, licking and sucking new marks into the flesh. Your hips stutter against his, and he lets out a groan, squeezing your tit as warning. You whine, but don’t fight him anymore. His hands returning to unraveling the ribbon, pressing into the skin revealed until he is the only thing keeping the ribbon and his dick pressed against you.

You pout a little when he pulls away, pussy aching for friction once his dick is gone. You feel it clench as it looks for him, and god it makes you feel like a whore. He takes your hands from his shoulder and leans over you to tie them to the bed board above your head. You can feel how wet your were at the wrists, especially when he kisses them reassuringly.

“I love you tied up,” He hums, “You’re so pretty when you can’t do anything.”

You pout up at him, but he doesn’t stay to admire the look long, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the condoms. It occurs to you, in a state of lust driven stupor, that he shouldn’t have to fuck his christmas gift with a condom on.

“Ah, wait—“ He raises an eyebrow at you, hand just inches away from the condoms, “Would you wanna do it raw?”

He blinks at you, again surprised in the same way he was when he first saw you. “Are you serious?”

“We don’t have to—“ You quickly try to rectify the situation, but he cuts you off.

“No, no, we definitely have to,” He shakes his head, closing the drawer with one swift motion, “You’re trying to kill me out here, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, but he’s not listening as he pulls you up into the position he likes most. Legs over his shoulders, body bent in half so he can fuck you hard and fast. He gives you a few seconds to adjust to the position, then he’s pressing his dick into you at a painfully slow pace.

It’s because he’s just so big, he always has to go slow, but you wish he’d just fuck you through the pain right now. The stretch is perfect as always, and you suck him in like it’s nothing with how wet you already were.

He cusses when he finally bottoms out, pressing his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his hot breath fan against your skin, tingling deliciously. “Fuck you’re always so tight. I’m never gonna get used to it, sugar.”

You hum, though you’re in no better shape. Shivering and shuddering every inch, and still quaking as he sits still inside you. You play with his hair to distract from how hot you are, and how you wish he’d make you hotter.

He gives himself a moment to calm down, then he presses a kiss you your cheek, readjusts you just a little so your muscles don’t tense up, and then he moves. The first three thrusts are slow and easy, then he starts to slam into you hard.

“Oh fuck—“ You cry out as the deafening smack of his hips into your ass rings out across the room.

The pace he sets is brutal and unrelenting, you were hoping for it all night. The unspent adrenaline from his earlier fights coming right back to fuck you so good you know you won’t be walking tomorrow. Each slap of his balls against your quickly reddening ass is accompanied by a stifled moan.

He watches you with an intensity you weren’t aware he was capable of, eyes drinking in every single inch of your expression. He looked crazed, but that’s what made it so hot. He was obsessed with every little look, every little sound that left you.

“Don’t be quiet, sugar,” He hums, pushing two of his fingers along your bottom row of teeth to force the sounds out.

“They’ll hear—“

“Let ‘em,” He dismisses, “They know you’re mine anyway, who cares.”

You really couldn’t argue with that, especially not when he shifts ever so slight to hit your g-spot head on. A salacious moan rips out of your throat, and your sure Caesar has figured out what you were up to earlier from that alone. He doesn’t stop ripping sounds out of you, though, continuing his brutal pace and hitting that spot so well you think you’re seeing stars.

The build up to your orgasm is so quick you hardly have time to realize it’s happening. One second you’re fine the next your throwing your head back and moaning like a whore.

“Lighter- Baby, I’m— fuck me- god I’m gonna cum, Lighter.” You admit, way too loud for your liking.

He hums, seeming to switch gears and fuck you faster somehow, “Go ahead, I’ve got you. Lemme feel you cum for me.”

You nod, chest rising and falling rapidly as start litter your vision. You think you nearly pass out, but Lighters hard thrusts fuck you through your orgasm. You squeeze him so tight, like you’re trying to milk his own out of him. You want him to fill you up, want to feel his warm cum deep in your belly. Want to see it drip down your thighs and pool onto the bed when he pulls out.

“Cum inside, please.” You beg.

“Fuuuck… ‘re you—“

You nod, “I need it, please cum in me. ‘S part of your present.”

He groans, fisting the sheets next to your head, “Suagr, you’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Always one to please, Lighter does exactly as you ask. Filling you to the brim with his thick hot cum. You revel in his moans, and only slightly wish you could curl your nails into his shoulders to leave another christmas gift for the morning.

He eases you into a more comfortable position before collapsing on top of you. His weight is welcome against your spent body, as are the wet kisses he presses into your sore skin. He unties your hand with one of his, and you quickly wrap them up into his hair.

“I love you,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “So much. You’re the best gift a guy can ask for.”

You giggle at the praise, “I love you too, Lighter.”

[cubbihue]

Would the Hazel puppet we see in a few of the shows episodes be a kind of very basic changeling? Its obviously made out of way less unwishes than Chimmy but the similarities are too striking to be ignored.

YES! YES IT ISS.

Hazel's puppet is a very basic changeling. So basic, that it's only purpose is to complete one specific set of actions. When those actions are done, it disappears! It's quite literally and physically a sock puppet.

The differences between Hazel's changeling and Timmy's changeling is that their lifespans and construction is different. They serve different purposes.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

More information about changelings that's ultimately just world building ramblings. Lotsa paragraphs.

Hazel's changeling is short lived, low on unwishes, and more specific to the job.

Her changeling is a one-and-done tool. It only has to do one thing. "Distract the Teacher." "Distract the Mother." So it doesn't need a lot of unwishes, it just needs enough to do its job! As a result, it is made of low quality cloth, it can't verbalize, and it doesn't make its own actions.

Hazel's changeling favors Perceptional Magic. This is why Mr. Guzman doesn't recognize that Hazel's changeling isn't Hazel. He can't see that it's made of felt and sticks. It's constantly pooling out perception magic to warp how its being viewed.

For this reason, the changeling doesn't actually need as much connections as Timmy's does. It can exist by itself, or with Hazel, so long as it has just enough Unwishes to keep it alive. Maybe not stable, but, alive.

By contrast, Timmy' changeling is on the opposite end of this spectrum.

Timmy's changeling is a continuous tool. It must persist and adapt and grow. "Go to school" "Get a job" "Find a partner". It needs many unwishes to face many situations and scenarios. So the changeling has a more difficult build.

The magic it favors is different. Timmy's changeling requires Environmental Magic. People see it for how it looks. It has human skin and can speak the human tongue. But what it requires is a suitable environment. Otherwise, people will know it for what it is. Wooden and hollow.

The more developed and high-tech the Changeling is, the less it's recommended for it to see it's real counterpart. The bigger the amount of Unwishes, the more you want it to be stable and calm. Especially when that changeling's job is "Be Human".

[dustcrumbs]

Bitty dust or horror? 😼

horror jacket inspo here

story inspo

Horror gave Dust some of his clothes, mostly because Dusts was all torn up or too big on him

He saw how beat up his feet was and gave him his socks and slippers :3.. He also gave Dust his shorts so he wouldn't trip over his pants anymore.

Dust accepted everything given to him. And suddenly left for an entire week. Horror thought he scared the little guy away, heart broken at the idea of losing a possible friend. (HE WANTS THAT COOKIE DUDE.)

But Dust came back with a new jacket. Dust looked defeated when he noticed the condition of it.

He rushed to get it and get back, scuffing the originally clean and pretty thing.

But Horror was excited Dust had traveled for a week to get him a gift in return. So he didn't care about the condition, he accepted it and has never taken it off again. Even despite the new, much better, clothes offered to him.

so, Horrors pants and jacket isn't his but what Dust gave him

And Dusts slippers, socks, and shorts isn't his. it belonged to Horror

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

miscellaneous fellow honest headcanons

These aren't following any prompt in particular, these are just thoughts I had when I saw the guy hammin' it up and then turning on us.

Some of these headcanons are informed by fan art I've seen and discussions I've had with friends, while others are purely me.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

He calls people “little lads” and “little ladies”.

Fellow has a very noticeable laugh. Like, he grunts and snorts and has tears rolling down his cheeks. (He tends to laugh at others’ misery, thinking of it as “retribution” or “payback” for the injustices he has suffered himself.)

Bro shaves using a knife (yes, he shaves because he is a grown ass man) because razors are hella expensive.

He uses that cheap cologne and cakes it on THICK. This, in his mind, gives off the impression that he’s a well-off and put-together individual you should tooootally trust.

Also the type of person that lays it on thick with his words. If he’s trying to impress a date or something, he’ll shower them with so many compliments it almost seems fake. But no, he’s just the type to simp hard when he happens to be genuine 💀 most of the time he’s faking it though—

He’s very street smart, but in a way where he confuses hostile people by talking over them and acting overly friendly. They usually stuns them long enough for him and Gidel to skedaddle.

If he gets dumped, he'd be the pathetic whimpering boyfriend that begs for his ex to take him back. When they inevitably don't, he mopes all day about it.

He chain smokes and aggressively drinks as a coping mechanism on his bad days 😔 and sometimes he gambles (like, on those scratch-off cards) hoping that he'll strike it rich and buy him and Gidel a better life...

Basically, he generally does not have his shit together but tries his best to pass like someone who does (and usually succeeds at it).

Fellow appears in public wearing his full suit, but at home (ie whatever ratty temporary housing their boss found for them before they move on to the next place) he just wears a T-shirt and lounges around in boxers (and sometimes socks with holes in them).

He uses those disposable eyeshadow wands that snap in half at the slightest bit of too much pressure. Fellow acts like the Claire’s kid makeup he uses is the luxury stuff, but Vil can tell the pigmentation isn’t all there and there’s MAD fallout.

He may be broke AF and have his moments of emotional spiraling, but he has pretty decent budgeting skills. Fellow lives for sales and does extreme couponing to stretch their money as far as it will go.

He invests in other cost-saving methods like wearing shoes until the sole is literally flopping off and just adding water to residual soap in a pump bottle to make the soap "last longer".

Fellow is really good at cutting food (bread, beans) thin to conserve it. Yes, this is a reference to an old Mickey Mouse cartoon—

When he was younger, he had dreams of being an actor (and, more specifically, starring in musicals). That's why he's often humming, swinging around his cane, and/or whistling as he's on the prowl for idiots to sucker—they're remainders of his thespian days before his dreams were crushed into itty bitty pieces.

Man looks like he'd be great at tap dancing.

Before his current gig, he tried a bunch of other scams including a MLM at one point to get by. His signature spell came in pretty clutch in those days too.

Fellow’s not that good at reading or spelling—in fact, he was never a particularly strong student. (“I didn’t fail school!! The schools failed ME!!”) He’s easily frustrated by academics and thinks there should be more hands-on and practical skills taught in learning institutions.

I think it's a given that he and Ruggie would be besties since they both want to eat the rich but I also think Fellow would kiss ass to Azul and then rage about how shitty + entitled Azul is (Azul reminds Fellow of his boss)💀 Scammers hate other scammers because they're both competing to scam the same people--

Even though Fellow is an asshole to most others (well, when he’s not flattering them to lure them into a trap), he’s always nice to Gidel and puts him first. If there’s ever a situation where they’re short on something (clothes, food, etc), Gidel gets priority. This is why Gidel has a full outfit (even if parts are patches or mismatched) whereas Fellow himself has a glove that is so worn out there’s a hole in one of the pinkie fingers.

Fellow may not be blessed with a bounty of magic, but he’s quick on his feet and good with words. Because of these skills, he’s talented at spinning bedtime stories, which he often tells to Gidel to help him fall asleep on nights that are particularly cold and nasty.

Gidel still believes in Santy Claws and wishing upon stars, and Fellow doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. He’ll figure it out on his own one day, Fellow thinks. He just doesn’t want to be the one to ruin those childhood joys for him.

Playing pretend is another shared past time of theirs. It helps Fellow get into character before he goes off to swindle people, and it gives Gidel a way to express himself in spite of being mute. They have a routine they do together where Fellow pretends to be a doctor diagnosing a patient and Gidel takes down notes for him as his medical scribe. Yes, this is a Pinocchio reference—

They actually have many more games they play (mainly because they cannot afford other forms of entertainment). Some of the games are clever ruses conjured by Fellow to teach Gidel survival tips and tricks: the who-can-make-their-piece-of-bread-last-longer game, hide-and-seek (from the authorities), etc.

For special occasions, Fellow saves up some money on the side to grant Gidel little luxuries, like a box of crayons to doodle with.

Gidel hugs Fellow’s leg or waist to cheer him up when he’s upset. He also hides behind Fellow when he’s scared or feeling shy.

He’s just really attached to Gidel cuz they have no one else in this cruel world, just them against the world 😔 He sees a lot of his younger self in the little boy… the opportunities lost because of their circumstances… “It’s alright, Gidel. Leave it to Fellow-sama.”

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ domestic diaries

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ೃ⁀➷ notes: I saw this gif (top right image) & wrote a post about nanami getting turned on seeing his wife in an itty bitty tank, and I cannot get this out of my head. I need this man to **** ** until I'm ******* and ******. this is very self indulgent. forgive me lskjfd

ೃ⁀➷ tags: smut; masturbation; oral (f receiving); nipple play; p in v; rough sex; reader wears glasses

feb 3 - 8:31 pm

"look at how wet you are-" nanami exhales, a strand of gold kissing his forehead. the muscles of his strong stomach flexing when he unfastens the last button of his shirt. he pulls the fabric over his broad shoulders, taking in your hungry eyes roaming all over his body. rough hands instantly trail to the belt cinched around his waist. you whimper when he loosens the buckle, your fingers circle over your clit just a little faster as you watch him yank the leather band out from between the loops.

"n' you're hard..." you softly pant, licking your lips which only continues to exacerbate your husband’s madness to have you.

he palms over the prominent tent that's formed against his slacks, his length stiff from the sight of coming home to you earlier. you were innocently standing in the kitchen, wearing your black thigh high socks and a pair of shorts along with an itty bitty tank top that did nothing to cover you. midriff out, nipples prominent. your hair a mess, and your glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of your nose.

it was in that moment when the realization struck nanami. when he pondered when was the last time he taken you to bed. both of your schedules have been busy. neither of you have been in the mood for making love, too worn out from the stresses of every day life.

so, his reaction towards you shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. he just wished that he noted the dry spill that's hit your relationship a little bit earlier.

"hi, baby", you sweetly greeted with a smile, as he stood there dumfounded with admiration. "you're home late, I was worried you might miss dinner-"

nanami loosened his tie, swallowing the hard lump that formed in his throat as his skin scorched with heat. he can feel it prick the tips of his ears, singe the the highest parts of his prominent cheek bones, and burn it's way down his neck. he stalked towards you before you allowed yourself to get distracted, and circled his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

you were taken aback by the urgency, but you soon melted in his arms and found yourselves in the sanctuary of your bedroom.

nanami smiles - an angelic grin, full of reverie. you have to press your lips together to stop yourself from pathetically moaning at the gesture.

your husband doesn't make it easier by treating his exceptionally attractive self with such nonchalance. so completely clueless by the power he has over you.

he boldly stares at you, eyes falling to the peaks of your breasts, the tips furiously prominent against your tank top and begging for attention. he followed the path down the lower half your naked body, to the triangle between your legs where you were fingering yourself in anticipation. half your legs were still concealed by your thigh high socks, your glasses slowly falling down your nose.

he drops his shirt to the ground, bringing those fingers to push back that infuriating rogue strand of hair that carelessly fell. he cups your knees, his thumbs stroking your socks lovingly as he nestles himself between your legs. his jaw twitches when you spread your lips for him, your arousal strings of sweet sugar. nanami leans forward to peck you tenderly at the source of your desire, and the sound that travels out of your throat is so desperate he nearly cums on the spot.

"shit-" you curse, your hands moving to rest on your lower belly so nanami can touch you as he pleases.

he uses to fingers to spread the petals once again, before placing his tongue flat to broadly stroke up your slit. his eyes flutter close and the drawl of his hum is deep, sending a shiver up your belly. you bring one hand to the locks of his hair, massaging his scalp lightly as you keep the strands from falling over.

"haven't tasted you in a while, my love," nanami sighs. his hot, heavy breath fanning your cunt.

he dives in with no mercy, making your hips buck into his face while he fucks you with his mouth. he pays extra attention to your clit, sucking on the bud and flicking his tongue back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth...your fingers dig into his scalp, your upper body nearly off the mattress as you hold him close. when nanami slides two fingers in to stretch you out, your eyes simply vanish to the back of your head. you're so soaked by the time you orgasm, tremors shaking your clenched thighs that nearly squeezed your husband's head.

you taste yourself on your tongue when he kisses you. it's sloppy, wet. completely primal. nanami only stops to remove his slacks, rbefore eadjusting your position when he climbs on the bed.

"take your glasses off," he commands, and you oblige as you place them by your side.

he flips you over, lifting your hips and creating a lovely slope on your spine. his hands graze over the socks pinching the meat of your thighs, and he widens your stance before aligning the heavy tip of his cock to your entrance.

your words are reduced to vowels, and when your husband gradually pushes himself against your folds, you release a long cry as you grip onto the sheets for support.

"oh fuck,-" nanami purrs, before pulling back and rutting deep into you. "uh-you feel s'good, s'warm..."

"kento-" your whine out his name pornographically, which makes your husband thrust into you even harder, "kento, more...please, please, please-ah~"

your tank top rides up as your body rubs against the mattress, your sensitive nipples brushing over your cool bed sheets. he's usually so gentle when fucking you, calculative even - but not tonight. tonight, his movements are unrelenting. whenever that mushroom head hits your sweet spot it has you seeing a cluster of white stars in your eyes. the sound of skin slapping skin echoes all around you, with nanami's grunts following in harmony. he's rough when he holds your hips because he's unable to hold onto any self control, because you're sucking him in, and milking his cock.

you anticipate the soreness to come.

when you orgasm a second time, tears prick your eyes from relief - it's been so long since you've had your husband inside you that you forgot how pliable you become in the process. he's so close now too, his flow staggering as his hipsstutter, until he finally releases his full load inside you.

it takes you both a few minutes to gather yourself. you can feel your husband grow soft inside you. you turn around to face him when you finally detach. sitting upright on your knees as you circle your arms around your neck, and bring your face in front of his.

you moan into a kiss, his own hands cupping your breasts chastely, his thumbs swiping over your pebbled nipples.

he rubs his nose over yours, his lips finding your cheeks as he kisses you. "you okay, my love?" he asks, always the gentleman for checking in. "m'sorry if I was rough, I..." he sighs, stealing another kiss from your lips before whispering, "I didn't realize how long it's been..."

you sniffle, your body coming down from the rushed high. "m'okay, kento..." you dreamily reassure, your lips seeking his own for another kiss, "that felt so good..."

"yeah?" he smiles before nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth and tracing that dangerous mouth down the curve of your neck. "felt good for me too, baby..."

you're like sand between his fingers, slipping through the cracks of lust and love. nanami leaves a trail of kisses down your collar bone, moving further until his lips circle over the tip of your breast.

you hiss when he sucks on it, using his hand to cup the weight. the sensation of his thumb makes you pulse between your legs, and you gaze down to watch him slowly pull away to release the bud. his eyes stay fixated on your chest, a small string of saliva connecting from your nipple to his bottom lip. he uses his thumb to wipe it away, stroking the hardened peak.

"want to keep going?" he speaks in a hushed tone, lifting his head up and resting his chin against your chest to gauge your mood.

"yeah," you sigh, wanting nothing more to ride along this intimate dance until your bodies can no longer keep up. "yeah, let's keep going..."

[avidfics]

Vi breaks out of the friendzone

Summary: Vi doesn’t have the best reputation. Perhaps that’s why you've shoved her in the friendzone for the past year. But your girlfriend just broke your heart, and Vi isn’t above using your emotional state to get closer to you. / Vi comes over to comfort you after your gf cheats and somehow you two end up in bed.  

R/N +TW: I haven’t written for Vi in sooo long. Also thanks to all those showing love to my lil blurbs :) Story has a bit of spice (kissing, oogling boobs, bit of foul language) and is f/f.

A car honk jerked Vi out of her jumbled thoughts and nearly caused her motorcycle to swerve dangerously on the two-lane road. Granted, she was a bit zoned out when she should’ve been focused, but she still threw the minivan behind her the middle finger before speeding off down the street at breakneck speed just to reach you. 

Ten minutes ago, she was laid up in bed with her latest fling when she saw “Bbygrl” flash across the caller ID of her cell. She damn near popped her shoulder out its socket by how fast she reached to answer the phone, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit how her phone was pressed against her cheek and shoulder even as her pussy hovered inches over a girl’s mouth, seconds from getting ate out. For a slim second she considered riding the the girl’s tongue while listening to the sound of your sweet voice since that’s the closest she’d ever be to the real thing. But her hips paused in midair at the sound of your heartbreaking sobs coming through the phone. In between the incoherent babble, she did hear the part where you found out your girlfriend had been cheating on you and had stormed out. Now you begged your friend for a ride home. 

As Vi’s motorcycle rounded the final corner at illegal speeds, she tried to suppress the smug grin tugging on her face. Your asshole of a girlfriend had finally royally screwed herself in the ass and with her massive mistake had left a gaping emotional opening that Vi had been dying to occupy ever since you two had become friends. An arrogant chuckle came from her lips as she skidded her motorcycle to a stop in the driveway, streaking the pristine concrete with large, obnoxious black tread marks. Fucking Maddie will have no doubt who it was who visited her house when she returned from wherever the hell she fled to. 

Vi’s fist pounded on the door before she shoved her hands into the pockets of her dark-rinsed jeans, a flicker of nerves creeping in at the thought of seeing her girl. Sure enough, her heart jackhammers in her chest at the sight of you opening the door in a white oversized shirt with a deep cut out that plunged into your cleavage, tiny itty bitty cotton shorts that left the globes of your ass peeking out, and white socks cupping your feet and up your calves. 

Her hand drags over her face just to stop herself from saying something highly inappropriate and downright filthy. 

“Yeah,” she thought, “fucking Maddie is not going to like what’s about to happen in her house.” 

“Violet!” Without a second thought you threw your arms around Vi’s neck. “I can’t believe she was texting some hoe from work for months.” Emotionally, you were an absolute wreck after your girlfriend flipped out when you accused her of cheating. If it wasn’t for your dependable friend, Vi, you’d still be sprawled out on the bedroom floor as you used Maddie’s t-shirt you were wearing to soak up the onslaught of anguished tears. Vi had been a solid friend for over a year, and being wrapped in her arms immediately made you feel centered and taken care of in your vulnerable state.

God, Vi was happy she didn’t have an actual dick otherwise you’d see the full extent your vulnerable state was wrecking on her hormones. She was trying her best not to be a complete shit by being controlled by desire, but shit, you weren’t even wearing a damn bra. The harder you squeezed, the deeper she could feel your sweet tits pressing into her chest. Internally, she groaned with deep-seated agony as she gently pushed you away just enough to look at your face to determine if this delicious torture was intentional. If maybe there was the tiniest possibility that her shy girl was actually making a move.

With a swift scan, Vi knew it was only her deluded imagination. Through soft swollen eyes and wet eyelashes your wide doe-eyes glisten at her with such sincerity it made Vi have equal parts rage at your idiotic, soon to be ex, girlfriend and lust. 

Cute, choppy sniffles refocused Vi’s attention back to the fact that you’re both still standing in the entryway. “Let me get my shoes and we can get out of here,” you said. Slouched shoulders followed you as you walked quickly to grab your shoes but the slam of the door closing made you jump. Vi’s prowls over to you from behind, a playful glint reflecting in her magnetic blue eyes. “What’s the rush in leaving? Seems rude for us to leave fucking Maddie’s house without a goodbye gift.” Plus, you were adorably naive if you thought you’d get onto her bike with the tiniest bit of clothing covering your legs. 

A flood of relief washes over Vi at the girlish chuckle you give as you observe Vi who leisurely saunters through your girlfriend’s place, judging her decorations with an unimpressed attitude. “Her name isn’t “Fucking Maddie” it’s just Maddie,” you playfully scold.

“Sounds the same to me, babe. And can you explain why she has all this god-awful artwork in here?” The painting in question was a stark white canvas with a burnt orange triangle painted in the middle. “What fucking idiot would buy this pretentious piece of shit with actual money?”

Despite the situation, you start to giggle. “My guess would be the artist.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” It takes another second before realization dawn’s on Vi’s face. “Fucking Maddie is the artist? Of course she is.” The two of you fall against each other laughing so hard you both fold over. “So tell me, which one of her things should we destroy first? And don’t try to get out of it. We aren’t leaving her place until something is burned, torn, or vandalized. Your choice on which sweetheart.”

There was no way you’d have the heart to destroy your girlfriend’s house. You were scandalized at the mere thought. “Violet, that’s literally illegal! While I’m sure you’d make prison orange look unfairly hot, I’d rather not risk life behind bars.” 

A challenging grin crossed Vi’s face. “You think I’m hot?” The flustered look on your face was planting salacious ideas in Vi’s mind. Looking you square in the eyes, she took the flimsy waistband strings of your cotton shorts in her grip and began wrapping them around her palm until they resembled the white wrappings Vi used for boxing. Something at the bottom of your stomach quivered dangerously at the first tug your friend gave. “Wait, Vi, we have to leave. Maddie wouldn’t like you in her bedroom.” None of your pleads stopped Vi from striding into the bedroom, with poor you unwillingly in tow and kicking her boots off with careless abandon. 

Vi jaw tightens as she takes a look around the room and find how intwined you’ve become in fucking Maddie’s space. Even notes of your perfume hung in the air and teased her nostrils. With your strings still in her controlling grip, you’re pulled to the freshly made bed and shoved onto the mattress with enough force that you bounce a few times in the air, making Vi’s mouth tighten at the distracting sight of your thighs as they jiggle. 

Your wide, shocked eyes flare up at Vi, who stands above you with flexed arms crossed - unimpressed with the flare of attitude you’re showing. “Get it through your pretty but thick head. Your ass ain't leaving this room until you rage out and destroy something.” 

Muffled, you mock her crossed arms and pout a bit. Not nearly the imposing impression of your close friend. “Not everyone feels the need to ‘rage out’ when things don’t go their way. We had only been dating for a few months anyways. It’s not that big a deal that she messed with a new girl. I’ve kinda been letting myself go for a while, so it’s not her fault I guess.” Vi’s whole face recoiled at the complete bullshit sprouting out your sweet lips. And she wasn’t shy about saying it. “Bullshiiiiit.” she drags. “Fucking Maddie wouldn’t know how to treat an angel like you even if she was given a textbook for dummies. Don’t let her stupidity make you forget you were the best thing to happen in her miserable life.” 

Relaxing her arms, she squats down between your legs to get closer to you. “Besides you’re not the only one in this room who is annoyed with your girlfriend.” Your eyebrows furrow at that revelation. “Cut the act and don’t pretend like I didn’t ask you out way before you started dating the ginger.” Your mouth dropped at the sudden reminder. Vi just grinned, pressed your lips closed, and continued with a self-deprecating shrug. “I guess I cant fault you since my reputation is pretty terrible.” 

As effortless as slipping bait onto a hook, reeling in her simple-minded girl was almost laughably too easy. “Vi, God no, I could care less about what other people gossip about you.“ It took immerse grit to hide her delight at where this conversation was soon headed. “Yeah? How about you prove it for me?” 

You weren’t sure when Vi’s face appeared only centimeters away from your face, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was how tempting her lips were looking in the dim lighting of the room. None of this went unnoticed by VI’s fierce gaze, which was trained on your every expression and caught your timid nod. 

That tiny nod was like the gates of heaven opening up. A guttural “Come here” was commanded before Vi grasped your sensitive nape, pulling you to meet her eager lips. Your meek movements followed Vi’s assertive lead and soon became swept up in it’s consuming heat. 

Vi tried her best not to rush it, but it was like applying the brakes to a full-speed train—after all, these few moments of nirvana had been a year in the making. 

A tiny moan slips past your lips as she gently prys your lips open with her tongue, and whatever flimsy restraint Vi had built over months was shattered. Vi’s hands roam down your tingling spine, fingers pressing into the soft curves of your hips and ass as she shifts, rising to hoist you higher up the bed, all while your mouths try desperately to stay connected. 

The world tilts, a blur of heat and movement, and before your scattered thoughts can catch up, she’s there—her body heavy and solid as it settles against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. Vi watches your eyes screw closed tight as she strategically presses her jean-clad thigh up against your thinly covered pussy. Luckily, you don’t see the satisfied smirk that she quickly hides by pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck. 

“Pretty girl, you never picked which item to destroy. Guess, since I’m such a good friend I’ll have to help you, huh?” A few soft, “Nooo, Vi” are unconvincingly pleaded, but Vi silences them with the foreign touch of her thumb skimming the inside your itty bitty shorts. All of your conflicting thoughts are visible across your face, but your deep-seated need to have your friend’s fingers much closer to your needy warmth was the most demanding and broke through to the surface. “Please, Vi. Need you to touch me.” 

The only answer is a nonchalant “hum” as she glares at fucking Maddie’s flimsy, see-through t-shirt that you still wore without a damn bra. With a light touch, her fingertips trace up your sides and faintly round the outer edges of your breasts. All of the blood in Vi’s body shoots to her clit as she scoops up your boobs through the t-shirt and simply stares at them through the see-through material. Jiggling them like her new favorite toy. A heavy pause is felt in the air as Vi holds eye contact with you as she lowers her head and covers your nipple through the thin material and sucks. Vi moans at the full jerk response you give as your head is thrown back into the mattress. “Ah, ah, ah, shit Vi.” 

Mentally Vi was also cursing at the heady feeling of your tit in her mouth, even if it is through the cheap material. She dreamed of this for a whole freaking year. Just to prove it wasn’t a dream she had to pinch something… You yell a chorus filled with her name as your other poor, neglected nipple is pinched hard and completely black out when it’s twisted. You only hear the resounding wet, “Pop!” of Vi releasing your breast. “What a baby.” She taunts before switching and doing the same thing to the other boob. Between you withering against her thigh and her torturing your breast by the time her fingers lightly circle your soaked cunt it takes an embarrassing amount of seconds for your body to go into full-born shakes as you cum. 

On her knees above you, Vi smiles triumphantly at the visual of you sprawled listlessly across your cheating girlfriend's bed with Maddie’s t-shirt debauched with Vi’s saliva, lewdly showing your taunt, abused nipples. As you come back to the land of the living with bleary eyes, Vi has hopped off the bed, rummaging through your drawer. When you fully register what's happening, she’s slipping a fresh shirt over your head, tossing you a wink as she smooths out the fabric. “Leave the shirt here for your girlfriend. It’s beyond repair.”

[tteokdoroki]

imagine silently vibing in the kitchen with katsuki bakugou.

you help yourself up into the counter, dressed in nothing but his shirt (haphazardly thrown on after spending all day kissing and getting nasty in bed) and a pair of fuzzy socks because he’d told you the apartment was cold since he runs warm and you need to keep your feet warm.

the kettle rumbles loud and proud beside you while katsuki gets the mugs from the top shelf. you’d made them together on your sixth or seventh date — a pottery painting class. bakugou’s is a creamy shade of Orange, like the sun setting outside the kitchen window, warm on your back. and yours is a soft pink, like the blush that dusts his cheeks from being caught staring. staring at you.

you let him make you some kind of herbal tea. watching bakugou grab the tea bags from another cupboard. this time, you’re the one staring, eyes caught on the motion of his back muscles rippling before cascading down to his unfairly slender waist, his grey sweat pants that hang a little too low on his itty bitty hips, and the rough textured skin on his side. the battle scar you love so much.

“what flavour?”

you hear him mumble, your gaze that was once tethered to the eighth wonder of the world (his phenomenally beautiful body) shoots up to bakugou’s face. a lazy smirk lies on the plump edge of his lips and compliments the his chiselled features illuminated by golden hour outside. you see the sun reflect off the brownish flecks to his gorgeous ruby eyes and the soft tint of blonde to his hair (you make a mental note to thank mitsuki for this later), before mirroring his smile.

“peach.”

to people on the outside of your lovey little bubble — there’s nothing significant about your choice of tea. but to you and katsuki, you know that it’s the same flavour as the lip glaze you wore on the night he first kissed you. it’s the scent of your body wash, the one that you leave at his place because you know that bakugou adores peaches on you. peaches, like the fruits you cut up for him whenever you’re able to join him for lunch at the agency, swiping your thumb over his chin as the juices run down it — sucking it off with an affectionate laugh.

“sweet,” bakugou hums into the quiet ambience of the kitchen. “just like you.”

his hands, though capable of intangible levels of destruction, work delicately and quickly to brew you the perfect cup of peach herbal tea. before you can even ask, he sweetens your cup with a tea spoon of brown sugar and a dash of golden honey — pushing it towards you gently. with a loving whispered reminder. ‘careful, it’s hot.’

katsuki waits for you to take a sip before he does the same with his own. he won’t admit to how cute you look on his counter, in his apartment, in his clothes with his marks on your neck, glittering under the setting sun. his bare feet pad on the vinyl flooring as he crosses the kitchen to meet you and his chest bristles with happiness when your legs part to make room for him.

“good?”

“always,” you chirp, looking up at kastuki through your lashes with your big bambi eyes. “i love you.”

katsuki looks taken aback but quickly recovers, rubbing his cheek on his bare shoulder as if to rid himself of the heat rising underneath its skin.

“love you even more. now drink up b’fore it gets cold.” he says gruffly but he’s lovesick all the same. you think that bakugou is so cute, you might implode.

and there you are, vibing out in the quietness of his kitchen — clinking your misshapen mugs together and drinking tea, letting the world go by as if you’re the only two people in it.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Snookums

Idol Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: Pink really was his colour, and she was nothing more than his number-one supporter and number-one tormentor.

Genre: Fluff (its just a lot of floof)

Word Count: 1.1K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: Well, back to revising for the last exam (i swear I'm at my limit)

"What did you just call me?" he paused mid-game, "No- not you- guys wait up, gimme a second, I have to deal with this." with that he muted himself, before turning to what he had to 'deal with', and what he had to deal with was laying on her side, curled up, facing the wall, her phone in hand as she mindlessly scrolled down, one reel after another, after she had mumbled the most grotesque thing known to man, oh so casually, leaving him in utter shock.

"Hello- I'm talking to you," he called out, reaching for the rolled-up sock on the floor, waiting for her response, once he got none, he decided to throw it at her, snorting when it landed right between her face and her phone. Now, all he had to do was wait for her to realise-

"EW! WHAT THE HELL!" her screech caused him to smirk, especially when she sat up to face him, tossing the sock back at him which he dodged with ease, before hopping off his chair and onto the bed, which led her to whine and try to escape, only to have him grab her by the waist and pull her onto his lap, her back pressed flushed against his chest as he placed his chin on her shoulder.

"Now, what did you call me?"

"Nothing~" with a whine she tried to pull away, only for him to pull her closer, squeezing her until she was wheezing out a laugh. His lips brushed against her pulse, trailing up to her jaw until he asked again, "What did you call me?"

"Nothing!" she laughed, trying to wiggle out of his grip, which was pointless, man all that protein was really doing it's stuff huh? Thankfully, she was a smart girl, which meant she could find her way out. Reaching for the pillow beside them, her fingers gripped the edge of the cotton as she hummed, "I called you...." she began, grip tightening on the pillow, "My itty-bitty, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, hunky-spunky, floofy, cutie-patootie, SNOOKUMS!"

WHACK

As soon as the pillow squared in on his face his grip loosened on her, she made a run for it, leaving the pillow, tumbling out of his lap as she crawled to the other side of the bed, trying to make her escape, only to feel the beast grip her by the ankle, a shriek breaking past her lips as she looked back to meet the glare of a man ready to fight- "Sannie~I'm just a gir-umf"

"No, you're a menacing, little minx!" he huffed, making sure to not put all of his body weight on her, just enough to pin her down under him, smirking when he noticed her gripping onto the edge of the bed, "Did you call me that because I wanted to play a round first?" he asked, only to receive a muffled, "I can't breathe you, big baby."

Rolling off her he sighed, chuckling when she followed, only to slap her hand on his tummy, causing him to wince, whining as he rubbed the spot, face turned to her, while hers was turned to him, both on their backs, laying on the bed, staring at each other.

"What?" she snapped, though her hand was now laced with his, earning a look from her lover causing her to scoff, "It's a cute nickname." Moving closer to him, she pressed onto his side, turning onto hers, so she could hook her leg with his, an arm wrapped around his torso (nah, she tried to, so she was just gripping onto his sweatshirt), chin on his shoulder, so close that their tip of her nose bumped against his, her breath fanning across his face, tickling his skin, "I just think my Sannie-wannie, is an itty-bitty, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, hunky-spunky, floofy, cutie-patootie-"

"Snookums...I know...and as much as I love you- what the f*ck is up with that, that's not a name, it's a whole family tree," he mumbled, tilting his head so his forehead bumped against hers, the thump, causing her to wince, pouting in return.

"I saw your pictures from your Vogue photoshoot in pink~ It suits you," she giggled, her face flushing at the way he raised a brow at her, his signature cocky smirk gracing his lips, causing her to bury her face in his shoulder, "But then I saw your pictures in a tiara~ my boyfriend is such a babygirl~"

"I am not a- the vogue one- I- stop~" he whined, turning on his side to hug her, pulling her closer as he rested his chin on top of her head, squeezing her every time he heard her giggle, "Stop that~ I'm big and strong." His whining only led her to cackle, pulling back a bit as she looked up at him, smiling at the way he had been glaring down at her, visibly irritated by her annoying antics, though she also noted the pink dusted across his cheeks, and how his ears were a cute hue of red- that's what he gets for playing stupid games instead of paying attention to her.

"You just did this so I'd pay attention to you huh?"

"Is it a crime to ask my boyfriend for love~"

"No, no it is not-"

The door slammed open causing her to yelp, and press herself against him, burying her face in his neck, as he tilted his head upwards to look at- oh shit.

Yunho standing there in all his glory, seething, no, fuming, marching to pounce on the fool who left him hanging mid-game, but his steps faltered when he saw another figure next to the idiot, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he ran a hand over his face.

"Next time, just don't play if you have someone over." He mumbled, frowning at him, only to give her a smile when his eyes met hers, earning a sweet, "Hi Yuyu."

"Hey...sorry for barging in. Enjoy your evening." He concluded as he walked out the door, only to pause when she called him out again, having him turn in the doorway to face her as she sat up enthusiastically, " You wanna know what Sannie is?!"

Confused the taller male raised a brow, nodding in return, not noticing the way the other man had begun to panic, especially when she took a deep breath and began narrating, "Sannie is an itty-bitty, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, hunky-spunky, floofy-"

Yunho only nodded, confused at first, but as soon as her words were cut off a Cheshire-like grin stretched across his face as he smiled at the panicking feline-looking man, nodding again as he slowly closed the door with a soft click. Clasping his hand on her mouth, he pulled her into his chest, facing Yunho with eyes filled with nervousness watching him leave, no, this was not going to end well for him, he was in love with the spawn of Satan.

"I love you Sannie~" she giggled against his palm, though all he could do was stare at her helplessly, so in love, yet in so much pain- oh that's what he gets for ignoring his little minx.

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