#but it turned out real nice so I wanted to see it colored just a bit

[tee-dohrnii]

This was meant to be just regular pen and paper practice, but then I ended up digitally coloring it ( ; v ;)

Original sketch and ref under here

[lightseoul]

a/n. feeling soft and yearning for 30-something boyfriend!bkg, so i just had to write something down on him real quick. enjoy! (0.5k)

thinking about quiet saturday evenings with bakugou, spent in the comfortable silence you've both worked towards in the brief time you've spent officially together.

you're in your early 30s now, and people your age are rushing to get rich or get buff or get hitched, but with bakugou it's surprisingly peaceful. you're in no rush, just seven months into this budding relationship, but that doesn't mean the people around you aren't.

"denki's getting married next year," bakugou shares out of the blue, breaking the quiet and sprawled so nonchalantly on his leather couch. you whip to look at him from where you're seated to his right, stunned.

"seriously?"

at that, he snorts. "crazy, right?"

you try to frown at his tone, but the corners of your lips refuse and fight to turn upward instead. "be nice, kats. i was referring to how fast they're going, not to the fact that he's getting married."

bakugou merely hums in neither affirmation nor disagreement. leaning forward, he places the mug of tea he's been nursing on top of the coffee table. "it's gonna be a pain in the ass either way. he asked me to be a groomsman."

you don't even try to tamp down the excitement that shoots through you. "he did? that's great, babe! that's so sweet of him."

he shrugs. "yeah, well. i told him i'll only agree if he included blue as one of the colors for the guests."

you feel your eyebrows furrow. "...blue? what's with that, specifically?"

bakugou frowns at you like you just told him the sky was green. "because that's your color?"

he says it so as a matter-of-factly that you buffer for a second, not knowing how to respond.

"…but the wedding won't be until late next year, right?" you finally ask when you get your words back, voice small.

"yeah?" he retorts without missing a beat. "what're you getting at?"

he asks the question in such a way that's bordering on challenging you, shutting you right up. the thing is, you've never thought much about the future, let alone one shared with bakugou, mainly because you didn't want to get way ahead of yourself and potentially get disappointed, yet...

here he is, talking so casually about it.

you look back up to see that he's still staring at you, goading you for an answer, and for a moment, you debate whether or not to have the conversation now.

the conversation where you talk about what the future looks like ahead of you.

but as you gaze back at bakugou's waiting, crimson eyes, and drink in the softness of his skin that perfectly juxtaposes the sharpness of his features, you decide to save it for another day.

shaking your head, you toss him the gentlest smile you can muster. "it'll be my honor to be your date to the wedding, katsuki."

at that, bakugou scoffs, but there's no missing the tinge of pink now decorating the high planes of his cheeks.

"who else would it be, dumbass?"

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

[prongsx]

who are your boyfriend?

Even though you talk a lot about your sweet boyfriend, people don't understand the sign.

Warnins: English is not my first language, there will probably be mistakes, I'm more grammatically correct in my language I swear lol, f!reader, just a silly idea I had.

You're a person who talks a lot about your boyfriend, not that it's your intention to show him off or look like you're obsessed with him (maybe a little), but still, it seems inevitable to quote Jason Todd in your social circles, especially in the work.

It's a good work environment, your colleagues are nice, and you like to be communicative. However, the new co-worker, Adam, seems to be a little too friendly, your colleagues have already noticed this, but you dont notice this, lost in your own thoughts about your boyfriend.

The thing is, Adam has concluded that your boyfriend is an idiot, he listens to you talking about him, and the only conclusion he can draw is that you're dating a stupid nerd who lives in his mother's basement. It started weeks ago when you arrived with a jar of colorful cookies, offering it to your colleagues with a silly smile and saying.

"Jaybean did, does anyone want it? It's his grandfather's recipe"

Adam laughed internally at that. It wasn't right, you were too pretty to date such a weird guy who was definitely supposed to be short, skinny and silly, what kind of man cooked colored cookies? Or even worse, let yourself be called a "jaybean"?

The next day, he overheard you talking to your friend, in a worried tone, about how your boyfriend was about having physically fought with his younger brother, which only added to the comical image Adam had of his boyfriend. Definitely the guy was a banana. What kind of guy would let his little brother hit him?

Around the football season, Adam decided to show you what a real man was and ask you out, showing you the tickets he got. He called you a doll, which you registered with a slight frown.

"um, thanks Adam, but my boyfriend doesn't like football very much. And this week we're going to an arts fair in New York."

Adam let out a stilted giggle that you didn't seem to notice, the thoughts of him again calling your boyfriend stupid. Seriously, art fair? Didn't like sports?

There were other, clearer signs of how pathetic your boyfriend was, according to Adam, like when you commented that he had sewn a blouse of yours. (you didn't say that Jaosn's talent with sewing came from the fact that he sewed his battle wounds himself). Or when you called him cute nicknames.

Adam wanted to show you what he really wanted to date a guy, a real man, who had muscuslos and knew how to beat someone to protect you.

The fuse for Adam was when he approached your desk and saw a book by Jane Austen and asked, avoiding making a face at such a syrupy book.

"Do you like classics, doll?"

You looked up from the computer where you typed, a slight smile on your lips as you stared at the book brevmenete.

"A little. My boyfriend likes it, so I promised I'd try to read it. I prefer fiction books"

Adam's face drooped, you were really dating a stupid guy, you deserved to meet a real man. He rested his hands on your desk and puffed out his chest.

"You know, doll, you can get more."

You blinked your eyes limply, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"There are men… for real."

There was an arrogant smile on Adam, which you didn't like, not at all. Your posture became tense, prepared to reject him, by hook or by crook. But a voice, hoarse and thick, woke you both from the uncomfortable exchange of looks.

"Am I getting in the way?"

Adam turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight. There was a tall guy, much taller than himself, who even in a leather jacket could see his muscles. The guy had messy black hair and scars that gave him a tough look, even his blue eyes seemed like a warning, a warning to stay away. Adam was about to ask what he was doing there when your voice came out loud and contented.

"Jaybird!"

Adam stood still, his mouth wide open as that intimidating man gave you a soft smile and squeezed your waist, a chaste kiss on the forehead. By no means was that guy stupid of your boyfriend.

"That's adam," you said, a half-annoyed expression on my face, which softened when she turned her eyes to Jason.

Jason just gave Adam a suspicious look, not bothering to spend time with him before grabbing your bag and giving you another kiss on the cheek, whispering.

"Ready to go, honey?"

You nodded, smiling. Saying goodbye with a slight nod to Adam, as you told for your sweet, gentle boyfriend about your day, whose acts were what really drew you in.

Just a silly thing I thought about while analyzing the things that betrayed me about Jason. Adam is just one of those guys who think women are attracted to things that – they – think should attract them. Jason is just a grandpa's little boy who has learned how to be a gentleman right under that rough surface.

[raccoon-in-the-danger-room]

Thinking about how Wade got his powers from Logan and, now that they're roomies, that Wade might let it slip out one day.

---

They're arguing in the kitchen over something stupid. Logan is slowly getting more aggressive with chopping the onions while Wade is up on the counter top, kicking his feet while waiting for whatever is in the oven to be ready.

"You know you should really get less mad at me, peanut. If you're nice to me, you're nice to yourself!"

"I'm not Catholic, so don't try to guilt me like one, and don't you dare play any bullshit pranks on me today or I'll give you two additional assholes."

"Well, that's more holes to stuff me with, so I don't see a problem with that." And before Logan can go claws out and make good on his promise, Wade uses one of his many signature moves: the 'Talk Real Fast and Confuse Them Before They Can Hurt You' special.

"WHOA THERE THINK OF THE BABY!" He screams while grabbing a ladle to jam between the claws and up against Logan's knuckles, keeping him a distance away. "I got a little bit of you inside me! Also, Jesus, we're not making pasta tonight, so I don't want any blood over the food. I won't be able to pass it off as red sauce to Al."

"She's blind."

"But she can taste color."

He groans, and instead of responding to the latter joke, he focuses back on the first. "What's this horseshit about a baby?" He sighs as the timer goes off, and he sheathes his claws to put oven mits on and take the veggies out of the oven.

"I'm just saying some doctors injected me with your DNA!! Not unlike good ol' artifical insemination -- except into my blood stream! Sooooooo, instead of a baby, I got healing factor. Ergo," he said as he booped Logan's nose on a the last word, "if you're nice to me, you're nice to you."

And what Wade thinks is funny banter, quickly turns into a sobering conversation as Logan puts the tray on the counter, not saying a word. Before hissing out -- "...What?"

You can see behind his eyes so many gears turning in his head, and he's not looking at Wade in disgust, confusion, or pity. He's looking at him in guilt, which is not what Wade wanted or expected.

---

So yeah it's all teehee chuckle fucks until Logan kinda has a melt down about learning that the freaks who experimented on him used his DNA to hurt others too. That's the hurt, and the comfort is Wade just thanking Logan over and over again that he saved his life. He's physically alive because of him, and he feels alive because of him and the stupid domestic life they've made together.

[suguru-getos]

࿐ husband neuvillette nsfw hcs (f!reader) ࿐

you didn’t know when you got married to the chief justice that he was that good in bed. like? how? where do you get the time? :// honestly — it’s insane. the way he knows your sweet spot as if it’s what he’s been searching for all this time. when the first time you two did it, it got you dizzy and you cried at the overwhelming love & affection he showered you with.

peppering sweet kisses everywhere, your forehead, your cheek, your chin, right below your ears until he reaches your collarbone !! neuvillette loves to nibble onto your supple skin. gently suckling at the sweet spot on your neck until you get used to it, then switching to a harsher suckle, maybe a little teeth. it’s the territorial instinct inside him which gets him hard and turned on the moment he sees you all vulnerable and marked up.

he loves toying with your titties, he’d literally spend a lot of time on them. massaging them, kneading them with his large, powerful hands and marking them his. the way his tongue twirls into your aching bud and makes you gasp for more. yes, he has made you cum with just your titties alone. you didn’t know it was possible until neuvillette decided it is.

neuvillette is a dom inside out. a pleasure dom who gets off to seeing you writhe under him. you’d always be told to moan out. “come now darling, don’t try to hide your moans. i want to know how it makes you feel.” he’d slowly yank your palm off your mouth. “sing for me.” he cooes as he thrusts inside you, watching your eyes roll back in sheer pleasure.

breeding kink 101. i think he uses a lot of words and phrases like, “going to look so cute with your belly carrying our child”, “going to breed my little angel full of me, she can take it right? of course she can. tell me — tell me you want to be bred full of my seed.”

size kink -> it’s always hard for you to fit him inside, he’s especially huge and girthy, veins decorating his thick cock while he lubes your cunt with his pre. he loves when you get a little intimidated by his size until he has to assure you that he’d always take care of you & never hurt you.

despite him not being too harsh most of the time, he still insists on there being safewords. “don’t want this possibility to ever come true, but still, no harm in being prepared darling.” he’s fine if you make up your own safe word or he is happy to follow the traffic light system for ya.

sometimes though? you want him to snap. best method is to make your territorial dragon jealous. there are often events like banquets held in fontaine & as the chief justice; he mostly attends those. it’s more than easy for you to rile him up by being a tad too nice with others 🤷🏻‍♀️ he’d pin you against the wall, the same stern glare that he carries in court now attacking you. “seems like you’re purposely getting on my nerves darling.” he hums, leaning in and inhaling your scent. “going to make sure to take proper measures so this isn’t repeated. you’re going to like that too much won’t you?” oh yes you will —

he doesn’t do punishments, just funishments. you’d have to ask him to partake in those because let’s be real, you can’t possibly expect the man who’s simping for you so hard to think of the possibility of hurting you. you’d have to tell him you like the pain. 😏 impact play, edging, he’d be partaking in all those for his little darling.

he likes to particularly cockwarm you though. it’s the whole power play high of it and the desperation in your eyes which makes it exhilarating for him. “stay still for me yes? i don’t want you to not cum now. just because you’re greedy.” oh you love it when he gets all in control like that.

whenever he decides to spank you, it’s always going to be over the knee. he wants to feel you close, it comforts both you & him. the impact precise and calculated, watching the color of your ass change with a soft smirk. “you love this too much don’t you? ah~ i can see it.” fingers languidly touching your needy, wet pussy as the spanks push you over the edge.

aftercare king and he’s almost apologetic after every harsh scene. “you okay? sure? i want you to know i love you & you did so well for me. i’m so proud of my wife.” words of affirmation king 👑 along with a clingy cuddle bug. 🤭

[orimuraa]

ᯓ᪥ Would you kiss me? Mwah! - OT7

(synopsis) ּ ֶָ֢.kissing enhypen with lip gloss on ᰔ

ot7 enhypen x fem!reader ּ ֶָ֢. tooth rotting fluff ּ ֶָ֢. kissing, petnames ּ ֶָ֢. wc 737

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

heeseung had just been scrolling through his phone when you decided to play a little trick on him. applying your favorite lip gloss (and his favorite flavor), you casually walked up to him, trying to hide your laughter. suddenly, you leaned in, crashing you lips against heeseung's. when you pulled away, heeseung was left shocked, but soon realized what you had intended after feeling the reminiscence of the lip gloss. "i like the flavor, baby." "thanks, it's your personal favorite!" you laughed, liking the pink, glossy color now coating your boyfriend's lips.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

today, you had decided to kiss jay. not that you haven't, you have many many times, but you were gonna do this with a little fun. you smiled to your reflection, seeing the fresh and vibrant red that now decorated you lips beautifully. you were going to do a little art project. jay was just lounging on the couch when you suddenly hugged him. he was a bit suspicious of the sudden hug but nonetheless, still hugged you back. quickly pulling back, you pecked his face all over, until you were satisfied with the amount of kiss marks on his face. "i'm a very talented artist." you giggled. indeed you were.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

"jakey? can you help me test my new shades of lip tint?" you asked jake, who was sitting beside you. "sure baby, anything for my princess," he winked, making you blush. clapping your hands, you grabbed your first new shade and smoothly applied it to your lips, jake watching intently. then you turned to face your boyfriend before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "hmm, i think i like this shade!" you smiled. and of course you needed to test all the others! let's just say that jake was a very happy and colorful test subject at the end of this,

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

"hoonie? can i test something real quick with you?" you called out to your boyfriend, holding two shades of lip gloss in your hand. "sure angel, what is it?" he smiled. instead of answering, you took out one of the shades and applied it to your lips before pressing your lips to sunghoon's cheek. "just making sure that these are still my favorite shades," you replied, already applying the next color. hey, who was sunghoon to complain? he had it all right here. kisses, you, and new decorations on his face!

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

"sun!! can you help me real quick?" you asked, sitting at your vanity with all your lip products lined up. "yeah? what's up sweets?" he answered, plopping down next to you. "i need to figure out which shades to keep or toss," you said, picking up the first shade. you smoothly applied it to your lips before applying your lips to sunoo's lips. "ooh! i still love this one!" you exclaimed, the color looking beautiful on sunoo. "glad i could be of assistance sweets," sunoo chuckled, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. oh, it was a really nice shade!

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"jagi! guess what i got you?" jungwon smiled, holding up a tiny bag. "i got a new lip gloss for you!!" he giggled, not letting you answer. "try it on!!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down like a little kid. "thank you wonnie! give me a sec," you pulled out the beautiful shade of pink and applied it onto your lips, immediately falling in love with the gloss and it's smoothness. but you wanted to see how it looked, so, you went on your tippy toes and pecked jungwon's lips, catching him by surprise. "it's such a pretty shade! thank you so much wonnie!" you cheered, hugging him tightly. "anything to make my jagi happy."

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

"riki riki riki riki riki riki riki!!! come here!!!" you shouted, not being able to contain your excitement. you had recently bought a new shade of pink lip gloss and you wanted to try it out on your boyfriend self. "what's up little love?" he asked, walking through the door. "i got a new gloss and i wanted to try it out!" you replied, already putting it on your lips. you then stepped towards your boyfriend, going the highest you could on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to ni-ki's lips, attempting to color them as well. "pretty color! pink suits you ki!" you winked, knowing ni-ki's hatred for pink. looking in the mirror, he saw his lips slightly pink. maybe for you, he would tolerate it.

this was inspired by my new lip gloss so everyone, give the lip gloss all the credit! anyway, i hope you enjoyed it! it was so cute and fun to write! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated! <33

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany

[plussizeficchick]

Artist Boyfriend | Jungkook x Chubby!Reader

Summary; “He’s not my real boyfriend, he’s my artist boyfriend.” (Loosely based on the movie “Dinner in America”, and this edit.)

Warnings: Street Artist!Jungkook, public sex, P in V, panty sniffing, breeding kink, mildly jealous Jungkook, somewhat bad boy!jk? (He runs from the law).

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you hear someone practically fall into your flower shop. You lean your head over the oak counter, looking to see who it was. 

He had dark hair, the curls slick with sweat making them more pronounced. He was breathing heavily, and you’d be lying if you said his labored breaths weren’t causing a heat to build in your lower stomach. 

Get it together (Y/N)!

“Hey, you need some help?” Jungkook’s head jolts in the direction of your voice. You hold up your hands in mock surrender, showing that you mean no harm. 

This was bad. Really bad. Pretty soon the cops would be rounding the corner looking for “him” but there was nowhere for him to hide besides the flower shop that he accidentally stumbled into. “Uh, I-” He was at a loss for words as his eyes ran over your plump figure. 

You were fucking beautiful.

You wore an off the shoulder sundress that hugged your stomach and tits quite nicely, if he says so himself. Your thick thighs were on display, making his mouth water slightly at the thought of possibly feeling those wrapped around his head. 

“Mister?” You furrow your brows, what’s up with this guy? “Hide me.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “Huh?!” He quickly shushes you, his warm eyes softening, almost pleading with you. “Please, hide me. I’ll explain after.” You don’t know what compels you, but you end up agreeing, hiding him behind your counter, just in time for the cops to rear their heads. 

“‘Scuse us ma’am, have you seen a young man running in this direction? Black ski mask, dark clothes, the like.” You do your best to be convincing, “Yeah! Saw him run down that way, though it looked like he hopped on a bus.” You shrug. The police turn their heads just in time to see a bus leaving the stop. One tosses his hat to the ground, visibly upset, “Damn it! We had that little shit! We were so close!” You’re a bit startled at the display, eyes shifting to the fugitive that you’ve essentially housed. “Calm down, Han before you scare the poor girl.” He gestures towards you. “We’ll get him next time. Thank you for your help, miss.” You bid them farewell, and when you’re sure that they won’t be returning, you lock your door, turning over the Out For Lunch sign.

“Explain.” You say, arms folded over your chest. You may not have meant to, but the action causes your breast to accentuate, the fat practically spilling over the top. Oh to feel the sweet softness, to feel them squeezed in the palm of his hands. To fuck his dick in the middle of the soft mounds of flesh. “Hello!” You wave your hand in front of his face. Maybe this was a bad idea? “What? Oh right- sorry. Well you see I did some graffiti and let’s just say, they didn’t take too kindly to me “defacing public property” or whatever.” He brushes off, hands resting in his black jean pocket.

He was attractive, in a sort of endearingly punk sort of way. He was dressed in majority black, with pops of color from the various wristbands that he had on each wrist. Said wristbands drew attention to his hands, the few veins that ran along them and his surprisingly long fingers. What you wouldn’t give to feel them inside you. Curling up and finding that delicious spot inside you. “Hey, miss?” He snaps his fingers in front of your face, was this what he was like? It was quite… amusing.

You snap out of your reverie, an adorable pout making its way to your lips, “Don’t call me “miss”, makes me feel old.” You mutter, and Jungkook wants nothing more than to kiss your puckered lips. “Well, sorryyy,” he drags out the word as he looks down to read your nametag, “(Y/N), anyway, apparently my art is “illegal” so I kind of had to cut loose.” He clicks his tongue to emphasize his point. You size him up, “What type of graffiti?” You ask. He balks at you, it’s rare for him to find a girl interested in that kind of thing. “Huh?” “I’m pretty familiar with the scene around here, so what kind of work do you do? Tag? Blockbuster?” You prompt, and Jungkook feels himself falling for you already. 

“I- Freestyle. I freestyle, really.” He says, fumbling over his words. You run your eyes over his figure before you settle on his eyes. Cute. “You’ll have to show me your work sometime.” You tease, moving to tend to your flowers. Jungkook follows close behind, your scent of warm vanilla and lilies drawing him in. “Maybe.” He flirts back. “Say, how do you know so much about this kind of stuff anyway?” He asks, eyeing a bouquet of white roses that’d look very nice in your possession. You jolt your head to look at him, an incredulous look on your face, “What? I don’t look like I know that kind of thing?” You sass. Jungkook nearly chokes on his spit, “W-what? No! No, that’s not w-” He’s cut off by the sound of your melodic laugh, “I’m just kidding, chill out.” You say, pulling a small chuckle from him. “Ha-ha very funny.” He deadpans. You smile brightly up at him, your chubby cheeks lifting at the action. “To answer your question, Mister fugitive-” “You know if you want my name, you can just ask.” He winks. “Anyway, I’ve been in the street art scene for a while. I’m not really good at doing it, but I do have my favorite artists.” You shrug. 

Jungkook’s intrigued, eager to hear more. “Really?” Who’s your favorite?” He asks, and you’d be lying if his excitement wasn’t infectious. You giggle at his eagerness, “Well, there’s not much known about him and no one has seen him yet. According to a lot of people, he never signs his work.” “And I take it that you don’t agree.” He says. You shake your head, “There’s this group that thinks his signature is in his work and I agree. The most common letters seen in his work is JK. With the type of art he does, there’s no way that you don’t want your signature on something like that. But I also understand him not wanting to take away from the art. So why not try to find a way to sign it, while also making it part of the art?” You say, looking up at him to gauge his reaction. Jungkook feels himself nodding before he realizes, “That actually makes a lot of sense. I’ll have to see this guy’s work. I mean, if I’m going to be the top artist in your life.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heat up, a smile unconsciously making its way to your face. “And what makes you think you’ll be my favorite?” You say, tapping a finger against your chin. Jungkook plucks one of the many white roses he was eyeing, extending it towards you. “I know so.”

— —

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to come by your flower shop regularly, always sure to buy and leave a flower with you each time he came. And it took even less time for you to start dating, the tension between the both of you too palpable to ignore.

It was an accident really. You had decided that you wanted to show your closest friend one of the most recent works of your favorite graffiti artist, practically dragging him to the mural. “Hurry uppp, slowpoke. I wanna show you my boyfriend’s work.” You suddenly feel Jungkook come to an abrupt halt. “Boyfriend? I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” He says, an adorable pout making its way to his plump, pink lips. 

So cute you just want to kiss it off.

“Not my real boyfriend, silly.” You giggle at the confused, almost puppy dog look he gives you. “He’s not my actual boyfriend, he’s my artist boyfriend. I wouldn’t actually date him.” You scoff playfully, turning around to guide him into the direction you were going.

When you both finally reach your favorite artist’s work and after a while of admiring it, you notice Jungkook shifting uncomfortably next to you. “Are you okay? We don’t have to stay.” You reassure him. You barely have time to register him grabbing your hand and practically dragging you away from the other street artists.

He pulls you into an alley, far from prying ears and eyes and before you get the chance to ask him what happened, he presses his lips firmly against yours. “I’m JK.” He says when he finally pulls away from you. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, all types of questions on your tongue. “I had to come with you to make sure that it was me that you were talking about and now that I know I can’t keep that part of myself away from you. Especially since I’m your “artist boyfriend”.” He says, nervously gnawing on his lip ring.

How? When did he find the time? Could he kiss you like that again?

You hadn't even realized you asked the last question aloud until you hear the slight chuckle that you’ve come to fall in love with. “Sure, but are you gonna keep my secret for me?” He asks, that sinister smirk making its way to his lips. 

Before you know it you're nodding your head, eager to feel his soft lips against yours as he runs his hands along your soft body. Fuck he never gets tired of feeling you against him. The sharp contrast of hard to soft, the way you practically melt into him.

It’s just too fucking delectable to pass up.

The tension between you both builds, the kiss gradually heating up and becoming more intense as the seconds pass. You wrap your arms around his neck just as he lifts up one of your legs to wrap around him. You both groan at the glorious friction, his clothed cock grinding against your puffy pussy making slick pool in your already sticky panties. “Please,” You mewl against his lips, the chill of his lip ring feeling tantalizing against your lips. “Please what, pretty? You gotta tell me what you want.” He breathes against your lips, the smell of his mint gum and cologne pulling you in. You whine, threats of a tantrum rearing it’s head. “Kookie, please don’t tease.” Jungkook chuckles, before slightly pulling away from you.

You reach out for him, chubby arms holding onto him for dear life, “Kook, please. Fuck me. Touch me. I need something.” You groan against him as you practically dry hump him. Jungkook decides to take pity on you and all but rips the flimsy thong you’re wearing off of you. You barely had time to register before he was shoving the piece of cloth against his nose, your scent washing over his senses. 

He quickly pockets the piece of fabric. You’re on borrowed time, it’s only a matter of time before another couple comes along for their own salacious activities and as adventurous as Jungkook is, you’re his to look at. 

He just manages to tug down his zipper and pull his semi hard cock out, before he uses your slick to coat his cock, running his dick along your wet cunt. “Fuck me, Jungkook. Fill me up. Wanna be full.” You moan into his ear. The sound of your breathy voice in his ear does something to Jungkook and without warning, he slams himself inside you to the hilt. You groan at the intrusion, never truly having got used to his size as yet. “Fuck! Yes, baby. That’s it. Give me that pussy.” Jungkook groans into your neck. He’s sucking hickies and leaving small, wet kisses along your throat and the exposed skin on your chest. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to bring his lips to yours. 

He reaches one hand up to palm at one of your tits, squeezing and molding the flesh to fit his large hand. You whimper when you feel him squeeze your nipple under your dress, causing your pussy to squeeze around him involuntarily. You both moan into each other's mouths, your pussy clenching and unclenching around the thickness of his cock each time he punches the soft, gummy spot inside you. “Cum for me.” He grunts, cock throbbing as it aches to empty itself in your womb. “Soak my fucking dick, baby. Get me nice and wet, pretty. Cause I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff you to the fucking brim.” You cry out as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy squelching as you milk his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Cum in me. Fill me up, baby. Wanna be so full it leaks out.” You moan into his mouth, eyes locked together. It doesn’t take long, a few more thrusts and he’s spilling into you, the warmth of his seed settling deep inside your stomach.

You both take a few seconds for your highs to come down and before long, you start to giggle. “Were you jealous, Kookie?” Jungkook pulls away slightly to pout at you, lips all pretty and kiss-swollen.

“Was not.”

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @cherries-c0la @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @c0pkiller

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Strings of Fate

Soulmate!au. I mess with the canon timeline for the plot. Jason's an unreliable narrator, and I practice writing the Batfamily. ~2.2k words

Jason Todd used to love the idea of soulmates. To watch a colored string form between him and someone he's only just met– knowing that they're going to be a part of him for the rest of his life– was a rush. A thrill that made him giddy every time.

His first soulmate is Batman. He'd never had a soulmate before that alley. It had made his skin itch when he heard other kids talking about their strings, beautiful ropes tying them to loving families that had existed from the moment they were born.

But now he understood the allure, the promise of having something that was his.

He'd dropped the tire iron in shock when a shimmering blue line formed between him and Gotham's Bat. Blue. So dark it was almost black. A blue glowing string that showed a family tie, one wrapped around the index finger of his right hand. (This will haunt him later, when he starts using the same finger to pull the triggers of guns)

The string didn't stop him from trying to run, but it did stop Batman from letting him go.

There's no hiding a string from your soulmate, and Jason likes to think he took Batman removing his cowl very well. (He did not. It took a long time to trust Bruce Wayne)

His second soulmate is Alfred Pennyworth. He's hardly had time to look around the famed batcave and grapple the fact Batman's his soulmate, when his attention is drawn by an elderly man carrying a silver tray. Another blue string. Lighter than his first, it's vibrant around his right wrist.

He's never had a grandfather before, he decides he likes it when the string shimmers as he turns pages of books, when he helps stir the batter for cookies.

His third soulmate is Batgirl. She's pulled him out of the way of a stray bullet, and he thinks he goes a little starry-eyed at the purple string forming on his right forearm. A friendship string. He's never had one of those before he was Robin.

He smiles brightly at her, and he definitely swoons when Barbara Gordan smiles back, nudging him towards the fight and telling him to keep up.

His fourth soulmate is Nightwing. Jason's only been Robin for a handful of months, but he's good at it. He's quick and knows the streets like the back of his hand.

He preens under Batman's smiles and affectionate ruffles of his hair. He wants Nightwing to be proud of him, too. He wants to live up to Robin.

So, he's not exactly sure what to do with the look on Nightwing's face. There's another blue string forming around his right thumb, this one so bright it's nearly neon. Jason's nervous. He hasn't been nervous for a long time.

But, Nightwing speaks up, nodding towards Penguins goons, "Think you can handle these guys?"

"I can," he tells his soulmate confidently, because it's the truth. And even if it wasn't, he's going to impress his new brother.

Nightwing smiles at him, and Jason ignores how strained it seems, "C'mon then, kid, try to keep up."

When Jason meets Dick Grayson, weeks later, his smile is less strained, and he ruffles his hair almost the same way Batman does. It's nice, and they take turns seeing who can do the craziest trick off the training equipment in the batcave.

He likes having a brother.

Jason doesn't meet any other of his soulmates until he's dead, buried, and alive again. There's no strings around his fingers and wrists when he wakes up, and nothing seems real as he slowly relearns his body.

He follows the blue line leading him to Thalia like a puppy. It's grounding, he thinks, to have something that was his again.

Then, he meets Damian. The navy blue string that forms on his left index finger doesn't help much. It just reminds him of what he doesn't have anymore. He flinches when Thalia tells him the baby's last name. He doesn't stay in Nanda Parbat for much longer. He's not much of a soulmate anymore, anyway.

He goes by Red Hood now. He's a crime lord and a villain and the million other things the news calls him. It's almost comical, that his third soulmate of his new life is the Bat. The dark blue string reforms on his right hand, and he doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

His fourth soulmate in this life is his replacement. In the future, he won't be proud of the way he reacts to the royal blue string that forms on his left middle finger. But in the moment, in the middle of the hurt and the rage, he takes it out on Robin.

He takes it out on Tim Drake, and the kid just laughs in his face even with the bruises and broken bones. (It'll make bile rise in his throat one day, when he learns how many soulmates Tim Drake has lost)

His fifth soulmate in this life is Nightwing. Five is more soulmates than he's ever had. Jason hides the fresh scar on his throat under armor and leather. He doesn't say anything when Dick talks. Only listens as he's told about the frayed, grayed string that haunted his soulmates after he died.

He swallows the knot in his throat when Nightwing admits quietly that he still has nightmares over the last tug he felt from Jason's string, before watching the blue fade.

Dick tells him to go see Alfred as he stands to leave, and Jason shoves down the bile that rises over it. (He definitely doesn't end up in Blüdhaven later that month on purpose. He definitely doesn't end up working the case with his brother by choice)

His sixth soulmate is Alfred Pennyworth. He leaves the exchange with enough food to last a week and a familiar glowing blue string.

He seeks out his seventh– third– soulmate on his own. Oracle hugs him as the purple string reforms. He doesn't have the words to explain the feelings stuck on his tongue. She maneuvers the wheelchair expertly. Babs gives him a comlink to the clock tower as he's climbing out the window and tells him to keep in touch. (He won't. Not really. But he does check in.)

Jason leaves Gotham after that. He gets more purple strings wrapped around his body then he ever believed he deserved to have.

The Outlaws mean more to him than he's willing to admit, and it's harder than he expected to watch them go their separate ways. He doesn't try to fool himself into thinking they feel the same way, even when he feels the familiar tugs of their strings.

His next soulmate is unexpected. She introduces herself as Spoiler, and he eyes the purple string matching the color of her cape forming on his left bicep wearily. He tells her to stay out of his territory.

He learns quickly that Stephanie Brown doesn't listen to anyone. She brings him coffee every time he starts to think she's going to stay out of Crime Alley.

He doesn't say much back when she visits. But, if he redoubles his efforts against Black Mask when she admits she knows how weird it is to watch a soul bond reform, it's not because the string means anything. (It is)

His next soulmate nearly makes him jump out of his skin when they first meet. Batgirl. Or Black Bat. He's not really keeping track at this point. She's taken out half of the men he was fighting before he's even realized she was there. He stares at her when she pokes at the blue string connecting him to her on his left ring finger.

He prides himself on not flinching when she pats his arm and disappears into the shadows.

Cassandra Cain shows up at his apartment unannounced more often than he likes, and he definitely doesn't enjoy her presence, especially when she calls him 'baby brother'. (He doesn't really mind)

There's a new Robin hovering at the edge of his territory, and Jason recognizes the blue string between them.

"Mother told me to seek you if I ever needed anything," the kid says, and Jason doesn't miss the shake in his voice that he tries to hide.

Jason knows he's not a very good soulmate, so he's not exactly sure why Robin is here instead of with anybody else. He lets the kid hideout in his safehouse anyway, and follows Damian Wayne dutifully into a nest of Talons the next night.

If he takes a few more punches than he would on his own, it's not because his little brother had bags under his eyes, or a stomach wound he tried to hide. (It is)

His next soulmate seeks him out with a purpose. The Signal. Duke Thomas nods at him as they both watch a blue string manifest between them.

"Did you need something," Jason asks, and he definitely doesn't feel the familiar rush of a bond, of something that's home and his.

Duke just grins at him and asks if he's ever tried the chili digs on the corner of third and main. Jason's not sure why he lies and says he hasn't. They both eat enough that it makes them sluggish on patrol.

Jason's pretty sure he's faking his laughter at Duke's quips as he throws another punch at the unfortunate goons. But the number he hands Signal at the end of the night for emergencies isn't fake. (Jason tells him it's just a burner phone number. It's not the truth, and his personal phone is filled with more memes by the day)

Jason has more shades of purple and blue tied to his body than he's able to keep track of. (This is a lie) After dying a hero and becoming a crime boss only to become a vigilante, the idea of having a red string, having a partner, is something he hasn't thought about since he was a kid.

He doesn't need one, it. would only make his life difficult and the life of whoever he was tied to dangerous. So, when he meets your eyes in the streets of Gotham, surrounded by the motionless bodies of the men that tried to mug you, he freezes.

The familiar rush makes his stomach drop, and the bright red string connects his pinkie finger to yours. He blinks at you, and you blink at him. He wonders what you see.

It can't be anything good. He doesn't think any one of his soulmates saw something good when they found out they were tied to him.

It must be worse, so much worse, to know the universe thinks you're meant to love something terrible. He wavers when you step closer to him, and wonders vaguely if he should make a run for it.

You say a name, and his attention snaps back to you, "What?"

You repeat the name again and thank him for saving you. Oh. You're introducing yourself. Jason stares at you, frowns behind his mask at the uncertainty in your eyes, the nervousness and hopefulness set in your face.

"Red Hood." He says, as if it wasn't obvious. He winces silently at the way your face falls. He really is the worst soulmate, and you're a civilian. You shouldn't be mixed up with him. He might be some kind of masochist because he offers to walk you home.

He's definitely asking for trouble when he keeps showing up on your fire escape. He knows he's in trouble the first time he takes off his mask, knows he's in even more trouble when his stuff finds a home in your apartment, and yours in his.

He's waiting for things to go south when he accidentally spills that he has another soulmate to Steph over coffee on their favorite roof. Knows he's risking your safety when you're curled on his couch, and Cass comes over.

Knows the other shoe's going to drop anytime now, when you offer to dog sit Haley for his brother. Knows this is all too good to be true when Alfred offers to share his world-famous cookie recipe with you.

He's staring at the red string tied to his hand when Bruce offers him a tiny velvet box, a peace offering, Jason thinks, a show of approval for you. Not for him. He's still staring at the red string connecting him to you when you fall asleep against his chest that night.

He can't have it this good. He's never done anything that should have allowed the universe to tie him to so many people, to you. His eyes trail over the shimmering purple and blue strings. He tugs on the purple one around his right ring finger. Something soothes in his chest when Roy tugs back.

He focuses back on your string. It never really made sense to him, that whatever magic created the strings is always right about his soulmates. Even with all the ups and downs, the strings lead right back to his family, his friends, the love of his life.

Jason wants to be a good soulmate. He doesn't think he ever will. But he must be doing something okay, because you're cuddling against him and smiling in your sleep.

The myriad of shades and glowing strings eventually guide him to sleep at your side, and Jason silently promises to do his best by his soulmates. He drifts off with more vows of working up the courage to show you the little velvet box hidden in his jacket.

Part Two

[cherryredcheol]

"dove"

tldr: all the way minghao uses your nickname a/n: i really like this one

murmurs: in the early hours of the morning

“dove,” he pushed your hair back off your forehead as he tried to wake you gently. the combination of an early morning arrival at the airport and a long line at security had left you both tired when you reached the private lounge. settling into plush armchairs across from one another, neither of you said anything, happy to just relax before boarding. he didn’t notice you’d dozed off until he looked up.

“you should eat something before we board.” you’d been together long enough now that he knew you’d be very grumpy later if you didn’t eat breakfast. he also knew this flight wasn’t long enough for a meal to be served so if you didn’t eat now you wouldn’t until you were back home and by then you’d be starving and he didn’t want that. 

“come on, dove, let me see those eyes,” he felt bad for waking you when you clearly needed the rest, but he knew you’d thank him once you had food in your belly. the four hours it took to get from hong kong back to seoul could be spent behind the darkness of your eyelids but right now he was determined to get you breakfast. “they have your favorite…”

scoffs: when he can’t tell if you’re kidding

“dove.” he’s shocked. when you asked him so sweetly this morning if you could pick his outfit for the day, he didn’t think twice before telling you yes. he trusted your sense of style and knew that you knew what he liked to wear. he had total faith in you, excited to spend the day in clothes you picked specifically for him. he had an interview this afternoon and it thrilled him that he would be filmed wearing your outfit and no one would even know but you two. 

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” looking in the mirror he’s horrified. met with the sight of clashing colors, patterns, and textures, he knows he can’t go out like this. he’s not sure where it all went wrong. you have such good taste, it was one of the many things he loved about you, but came up with this? pulling his eyes away from the clothes, he met your gaze in the reflection and saw your smirk. 

he turned to you, incredulous over your prank but relieved that you hadn’t been sincere in your choices. he was worried he was going to have to hurt your feelings by changing. “i have to leave soon and you’ve wasted time on this silly trick. go pick me out a real outfit, dove.” he pointed to the closet and watched your smile widen at his teasing words as you crossed the room to pick something sincerely this time. “make me look nice!”

probes: because he thinks you’ve had too much screen time

“dove?” he knows you asked to be left alone but that doesn’t feel right when you’re so clearly stressed. he’d been at your apartment for 30 minutes and you had not looked up from your laptop the entire time. he’s pretty sure you haven’t looked up from it all day and he’s worried you might be starting to fuse to your desk chair. he came over for movie night, excited because it was his choice this week, but at this point, he’d just be glad to see your eyes. 

“have you eaten today?” he was going to be persistent about this. you needed a break and he was not going to stop until you took one for the rest of the night, with him. he knew you had a lot on your plate and there was a lot that needed to get done but running yourself into the ground wasn’t going to accomplish anything. he was standing behind you, hands rubbing gently on your shoulders, offering support but also letting you know he wasn’t going to be leaving you alone anytime soon. 

“save your work and let’s order take-out.” his tone is a little strict but he wants you to take him seriously and listen. clearly understanding this, he watches your cursor travel across the screen to the save icon and feels satisfied when you push the computer closed. he smiles when you turn in the chair and stand to greet him properly, happy that you were not becoming one with your chair. he wraps you up in his arms and presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “you’re going to love my movie pick tonight.”

marvels: as you walk through the door

“dove,” he’s rendered near speechless at the sight of you walking out from the bathroom. dressed in your comfy pajamas, he can’t tear his eyes away. scrubbed clean and glowy from your products, he swears you shine brighter than any star he's ever seen. suddenly the mattress he’s stretched out on feels a little too cold without you. 

“you look so beautiful,” he compliments you with so much sincerity, hoping to convey how much he means it, hoping you can feel it. you were his sense of calm in the craziness of his life. strong, steady, and always here for him, he aspired to be the same for you. seeing you so soft, lit from the back by the vanity light, he was so sure you were it for him. 

“come join me,” he pouts at you, already anticipating the comforting weight of you in his arms, too impatient to wait any longer. his pout morphs into a smile watching you scurry to the bed, flopping onto the empty side he’s saved just for you. he’ll save a side of the bed for you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. “come here, dove. give me a good night kiss.” 

teases: while trying to encourage a new career move

“dove” he sing-songs from the other side of the space, trying to grab your attention. it was late, or early depending on interpretation, and only the two of you were left in the practice room. he was fooling around with different steps and filming some challenges. you were more than content to sit and watch, never much of a dancer. 

“come dance with me,” he holds a hand out to you, palm open and facing up in an invitation. you eye him wearily, his smile a touch too manic to not be interpreted as mischievous. you heave yourself off the floor, crossing the room to him, accepting his outstretched hand. the music playing isn’t something you recognize but it’s soft and sweet and sets the mood perfectly as he draws you close to his chest, swaying gently back and forth. 

“you could be a decent dancer with a little practice. probably not as good as me though,” he whispers this, trying to preserve the serene, romantic mood that had been set. but your giggles shatter the illusion, breaking the quiet and dragging him into his own fit of laughter. the moment was ruined, but he supposed laughing with you was just as romantic as a slow dance. 

[38riku]

𝐁𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎂 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

scenarios based on their birthday voice line. includes trey clover, cater diamond, leona kingscholar, and idia shroud.

/ suggestive if you squint. some of their voice lines are so flirty it's not my fault. gender neutral. /

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ☀︎ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

"ha-ha, way to put me on the spot. well, thanks. you know, according to the Queen of Hearts' laws, we're allowed to ask for anything we want on our birthdays ... h-hey, chill. I was joking."

it was slightly amusing to see the usually composed and cool headed trey clover flustered. his cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. 'why did I say that?' he questioned over and over silently until his head started to spin.

"well, I'd hate to break one the Queen's laws." golden eyes widened in bewilderment at your statement. you were having the time of your life teasing him, weren't you? giggling like the menace he knows you to be.

your hands toyed with his tie, slowly and gently tugging at the fabric. if riddle saw him he'd surely hear an earful about proper dress, but, who cares? not him. not when you were flirting with him so blatantly in his room.

"what will it be clover?"

"what're you willing to give darling?"

the look in your eyes answered for him. everything. anything. no matter how ludicrous the request or object it would be his.

"you know you have my consent, yes?" your question was met with a nod, and a very deep gulp. he was great at keeping up the calm, cool and collected facade but, upon closer inspection — thundering heartbeat, cheeks now turning a deep red color, sweaty palms — he was, in fact, far from that.

trey didn't realize he had leaned in until he felt your breath fan his cheek. the faint smell of his birthday tart from the party reminded him that anyone could walk in. even so, there was no need to rush this moment.

it's his birthday after all. he deserves to be a bit selfish.

especially when it tastes like cherries.

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 ☀︎ 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘

"you remembered my birthday? thanks! you're so nice, taking the time to celebrate with me. okay, bring it in for a pic! gotta commemorate this on Magicam."

"today was fun! i can't believe you planned all this just for me." although he kept his usual happy go lucky cadence, there was an underlying tone of disbelief. he had asked you to pinch him many times during your outing yet it still didn't feel real.

each part of the day was calculated. no matter how many times you deny it, he was in the forefront of your mind.

there was no cake or sweet treat. instead, a plate of spicy curry with happy birthday written in sauce. it was a bit sloppy but made his heart warm and brain fuzzy.

he half expected the two of you to go shopping, however, you surprised him again with a trip to the bookstore. cater knew you enjoyed manga. it was a popular topic amongst you and the underclassmen.

"branching out is an important part of growing up!" you had lectured him. he found it amusing but allowed you to coerce him into getting a few volumes of your favorites.

not that it took much. you could ask for the moon and cater would find a way to make it happen.

lastly, was his dislike for crowds. thus, the two of you were on the quiet beach, watching the sunset as the sky exploded in various hues of warmth. it had been a cinematic ending to his birthday. and, for once, he didn't want it to end.

the celebrations typically left a bad taste in his mouth. literally.

if anyone were to make today the least bit tolerable it would be you. the two of you were friends, not super close but far from distant, and today – like many other days – time went by too fast, and wish you'd stay beside him a but longer.

"let's take a picture!" cater smiled, not waiting for your answer as he pulled you close. hopefully you didn't notice how nervous he was to hold you like this, so close, so warm.

with a silly face for the camera he snapped the photo, only to feel a burst of warmth on his cheek.

"happy birthday cater!" you were so genuine, smiling softly and asking "same time next year?"

cater couldn't bring himself to answer. but, if his toothy smile was anything to go by then it was a resounding yes.

for once he looked forward to next year. more importantly, spending it with you.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 ☀︎ 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

ain't nothin' great about birthdays. it's just the day I was born. but if you really wanna celebrate it, I won't stop you. I always welcome presents.

"you know it's rude not to greet the birthday boy." it wasn't unusual to hear snide remarks from leona. in fact, he was ninety percent sure you expected this from your reaction. or the lack of one.

he didn't know why you gave him a birthday gift. but, since you did, it irritated him that you didn't deliver it yourself.

"you don't like it?" tease. even when you're cornered by a predator like himself you find time to dig under his skin. it was entertaining most of the time. right now, it simply pissed him off.

"if you're gonna be so bold as to give me a gift, at least deliver it yourself." huffing, he stood straight, content with getting his point across.

as hard as you tried to remain unbothered by his presence, you failed. your eyes watched him warily, anticipating something but not knowing what.

"leona, I don't know what you're planning but–"

"just thought i'd take the rest of my gift to go."

and, just like that, you were over his shoulder. as far as he's concerned the rest of your schedule is cleared to entertain the birthday boy.

what were you thinking? giving someone like him "coupons" as if he didn't already have someone to do his tedious work. as stupidly endearing your gift is, he intends to use each and every one.

naturally you end up in his room. unnaturally, he placed you down on your feet gently. he snorted at your surprise and handed you a small stack of clothes.

"your ... gym uniform?"

"put it on. you smell like your friends, and cat, I won't be able to sleep peacefully like that."

you scoffed at his reasoning but it was very very believable. leona felt a tinge of guilt for lying but, in his defense, if he was going to use you as a pillow you could at least smell like him.

the shirt was too big and you replaced his pants with your own clean pair of sweats. it seemed to have sufficed, because a moment later the two of you were, what he calls 'platonically cuddling'.

in his eyes, there was nothing platonic.

not the way you gently scratched his hair while scrolling on your phone.

not the way his tail curled around your waist protectively.

not the way he felt so at ease it he's barely conscious long enough to question the feeling before drifting to sleep.

𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃 ☀︎ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄

what's up? I'm kinda busy collecting birthday voice clips from my game faves. after all, the only people who celebrate for me IRL are, like, my relatives. huh? you came to throw a birthday party? f-for me?! hrk... c-couldn't you give me a ready check or something before springing a raid on me?! i'm totally ungeared, and I haven't even watched a tutorial video yet!

the party wasn't as bad as he expected. just as you predicted, there are people who enjoy the same things he does — he and lilia play the same type of games, ace is a manga nerd — in short, his pop culture skillset was a sufficient substitute for his lack of social exp.

"look at you, increasing buddy levels with npc's. is now a bad time to say i told you so?"

"yes. you can't make fun of me on my b-birthday."

you laughter caused his hair to flare underneath his hood. although the party wasn't as overwhelming as he expected, you were still ... well, you, and you never failed to reduce his HP to zero with a smile.

imagine the damage he took when you suddenly took his hand, dragging him off to who knows where?

it was a critical hit.

"one more surprise." you giggled, opening one of the many doors in your recently renovated dorm. this specific room was decorated with the purpose of gaming.

the pc was decent, dual monitors, a soundbar, and a handful of game systems that cost more than a few thaumarks.

"now you can teach a mere noob like me all about gaming in the magic world."

all of this, to play games with him? it was unbelievable. he didn't deserve it. you were friends with plenty of maxed out characters and there were various love interest routes for you to take, yet, you chose him.

"i am pretty g-good. tutorial videos wouldn't help someone as h-hopeless as you."

it was the first time he spent his birthday with someone that wasn't related to him. teaching the main character (in his eyes) how to play video games. your shoulders were touching, faces inches apart whenever you'd turn to him, listening to him explain this and that.

idia had muted the party. buddy levels with npc's didn't matter when he was filling the romance bar.

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[berzahoes]

when you know you know | tom blyth

summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)

an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times 😭 also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a

“don’t look now, but the guy behind you is staring.” your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.

“he’s cute,” your other friend, layne, joined in.

your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. “someone’s got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.”

you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.”

“he has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think that’s all you need to know about your future man.” meg said.

“you just described almost every boy here,” you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. “i like being single anyways. i have more me time.”

“babe, we know you don’t like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you don’t like him then that’s that. we won’t push you to talk to any one else ever again.” layne said.

“just this one time.” you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.

you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldn’t figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.

you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” you immediately apologize.

“it’s okay, um are you . . . okay?” he asked shyly.

“yeah, I’m good. i’m sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.” you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.

“i’m tom.” he introduced himself.

“i’m yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. it’s a habit.” you chuckled nervously.

get it together, yn

“no, it’s fine, wasn’t really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?” he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it might’ve sounded creepy.

“no, i’m with my friends. i’m sorry, again, i noticed the accent, you’re british. are you visiting good ol’ new york?” you questioned.

“studying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?”

“i’m actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. it’s my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.”

from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.

“does anyone know how to lip read?”

“shhh! shut up layne!”

“who’s gonna tell her that’s not the guy we were talking about?”

“i don’t want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.”

[sunny-knight]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[lazycats-stuff]

I remember back when i was a few months old and still using a baby walker, I'll wake up early morning but my parents will be too exhausted to get up yet so my older sister will put me in the walker in front of the TV and turn on something like national geographic or anything about animals then I'm entertained for hours(might take a stroll around the livingroom but with my eyes still on the tv) even though i understood nothing lol, can i see something like that with batfam and babybat? I feel like this is something batbros will definitely do if they're too tired to entertain their baby brother but still want to hangout with him(they just end up open mouthed staring at the tv just like the baby < Bruce's favourite site in the morning)

Oh my God, that is completely adorable. My parents also gave me a walker and I would only watch Incredibles and that would entertain me for hours.

Summary: A nice morning with the fam.

Warnings: fluff, fluffy morning, everyone loves the baby, Alfred love too... I just love the fam...

Taking care of a baby is exhausting. Any parent will tell you that. And it also takes a village to raise a child, which is also true. Very much true if you ask any parent who is dealing with a baby in a moment. (Y/N) Wayne joined the family a year ago, as a newborn whose mom didn't feel ready to take care of him.

Bruce didn't judge her for it and he happily took his son in, introducing him to the rest of the family. Everyone took a liking to the little baby and they showered the boy with affection and love. One of them made sure to be home at night, taking a break from patrol to take care of their brother for the night.

It was nice to take a break from the patrol and intense stress it brings and some could argue that taking care of a baby is more stressful, but the Wayne family had to disagree with those people. (Y/N) was an easy baby, by every single definition. He ate on time, slept on time, got a lot of cuddles and they all played with him.

All in all, it was amazing and stress free. All boys waited for their night off, alongside Bruce. Nothing could be better. Absolutely nothing could top that one night where they take care of their baby brother and their son.

But they were all exhausted beyond belief. And ever since (Y/N) has started walking, the little baby has a lot of energy to investigate. So Bruce got him a walker to that the little baby could walk around the living room and the kitchen. It's an adorable sight to see a baby just walking around like that, giggles and normal baby noise following him around.

Of course, the boys carried him all the time, just cuddling him and kiss his cheeks and head and smelling his scalp for that baby smell. Bruce had to admit, that baby smell is something interesting. He has heard of it, but he didn't think it was a real thing.

The more you know.

And for some reason, (Y/N) loves National Geographic. Maybe it's the colorful animals or just the voice of the narrator, but it made his eyes glued to the TV, mouth agape as he was watching the animals and listening to the voice, despite not understanding anything, he was glued to the TV.

So what do the brothers do when they are too exhausted to entertain their little brother, but still want to hang out with their baby brother?

They put the National Geographic on, put (Y/N) in his walker and then the four older kids just lay down on the couch and try to catch some sleep.

But that never really goes well, because they watch the animals too and they are shocked, mirroring (Y/N)'s expressions, but from a whole another reason. They were shocked by the facts and the looks of certain animals.

What the hell?

While every single child on the couch was in shock from the sheer diversity of their planet Earth, Bruce would just walk in quietly and watch for a few minutes. It was absolutely adorable and Bruce took a few photos and videos.

And those things will be the one thing he cherishes the most. He will print out those pictures and frame them on the wall one day and then put them on the wall. He smiled as he went to the kitchen where Alfred was already heating up a bottle of milk for their little bat.

Yes, the little bat was (Y/N)'s nickname. And yes. Bruce has made it happen.

Alfred handed the warm bottle to Bruce who made his way to the living room, taking (Y/N) into his arms and then putting him in his lap, making sure he could still the TV and then giving him his bottle to eat and be full.

The older boys didn't even bat an eyes as their brother was being fed.

" Do you see this old man? " Jason asked Bruce, not even taking his eyes off of the TV.

Bruce chuckled and nodded. " Yes, animal world is an interesting world. "

Damian tilted his head, mouth agape from the sights on the TV. (Y/N)'s eyes were still on the TV, but were closing from the feeding. Feeding often made him relaxed and sleepy, no matter what time of the day it is.

Bruce gently rocked his son as he finished feeding and then burped him. Bruce cooed at his son and then put him back into his walker. His five sons were still in trance while watching the National Geographic.

" What the hell is going on? " Tim asked as he tilted his head, eyes wide as he watched in shock.

Dick moved closer to the edge of the couch, trying to see in more detail. Bruce smile and took (Y/N) into his own arms, cuddling with the baby, gently kissing his head. (Y/N) cooed and laugh and Damian stood up, coming closer to the screen.

" What is going on here? " Damian asked as he observed the screen and animals on it.

" Now I see why (Y/N) is so in love with National Geographic. So many colors and the voice of the narrator is really nice too. " Damian said and moved to Bruce to take his brother into his arms. Both half brothers looked at the screen in wonder.

The love from animals seems to go deep in this family it seems. Everyone loves animals and the estate is slowly turning into an animal shelter. Bruce didn't mind it at all.

At that moment, Titus walked to Damian, snout sniffing (Y/N)'s socks. (Y/N) giggled from the sensation and Damian lowered down the baby so that Titus can sniff (Y/N), but not the face and hands. Titus huffed and hoped on the couch, laying his body over Tim and Jason who petted the big dog.

" Did you take Titus out for a walk Damian? " Bruce asked and Damian nodded.

" Yes I did. He did everything he needed to do and we played with his ball. " Damian explained and cooed at (Y/N), giving him a kiss on the head afterwards.

" He is just adorable. " Damian said as he held his brother and sat down on the couch. (Y/N) closed his eyes and just relaxed, almost going to sleep.

Alfred smiled from the kitchen and ever so discreetly walked over to the living room and snapped a picture for himself. It would go in his private folder, one with all pictures with his grandsons and Bruce. But this was a new folder, made in (Y/N)'s honor.

He never had a chance to have his own, biological family, but families are not bounded by blood. Families are bound by a sense of loyalty, love, support... That's what a family is all about. Alfred put his phone away and sat down on the couch, squeezing himself in with everyone.

It was cramped, but it was more cozy and more intimate. The boys greeted Alfred with smiles, but their eyes never left the screen. It seems that (Y/N) greeted him too, arms reaching out for Alfred, who took his youngest grandson into his arms, kissing his cheek.

" This is a nice morning. No one is rushing, everything is peaceful... We need more morning like this. " Alfred said and everyone has agreed to it.

They truly need more mornings like this... Alfred glanced down at his grandson, who was looking at him with his big baby eyes. Alfred sighed and smiled, kissing his cheek and wrapping him in a warm blanket to keep him warm.

[frudoo]

Full Hands — Captain John Price

Me 🤝 writing fics about John with kids

(I want to have his babies)

Warnings: Fem!reader, John is nice but DON’T TALK TO STRANGE MEN!!!!

Full Hands Masterlist

The morning had started out disastrous, to say the least. The kids were already up when you arrived, and before you could even take off your shoes, their poor parents were out the door, looking exhausted as ever. You understood why as soon as you saw the mess of clothes and toys that were sprawled throughout the house. With a sigh, you clean the house up, and after wrestling the rambunctious little girl into the bath and dressing both her and her baby brother (who was cranky from lack of sleep and a stuffy nose), you headed out the door to go to the park. You could only hope that the crazy little munchkin would wear herself out and take a good nap later.

“Look out!” You gasp, grabbing the chatty four-year-old by her arm before her face can make contact with a lamp post.

Your yelp wakes up the baby strapped to your chest, and your eyes widen when you see his lower lip starting to tremble. You place one hand beneath his bottom and adjust the wrap so that he feels more secure, bouncing in place to try and stop him from the inevitable cry-session he’s about to embark on. Luckily, your soothing efforts work, and the tired babe falls right back asleep before the first wail can escape him. You sigh softly in relief, grabbing his older sister’s hand and pulling her closer to you to avoid any more potential accidents.

“I wanna go to the paaaark!” She pouts, trying to run ahead of you, but your grip tightens on her.

“We are, sweetheart, but I need coffee first,” you explain, running your thumb along her knuckles as you guide her into the quaint little café.

The little girl huffs defiantly, but her big brown eyes widen in pure excitement when she sees the arrangement of delicious pastries behind the glass display. Instantly, she’s tugging on the hem of your dress, pigtails dancing wildly as she bounces up and down.

“Nana! Wanna cake pop, please? Pretty please? I’ll be good, swear! Won’t be sassy!” She rambles, pulling you to the front and subsequently running into the man that was already trying to order.

Your heart drops into your stomach when the man turns around, and you pull the little girl into your side in a protective manner. He’s tall and built, and were you not afraid that he was about to give this clumsy little girl a piece of his mind, you would have found him rather attractive. Much to your relief, the man gives a soft chuckle, kind eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Look a little young to be a ‘Nana,’ yeah?” He teases, sparkling blue eyes scanning your skeptical face.

“Oh, I’m just their nanny. She refuses to call me by my real name,” you explain sheepishly, glancing at the sleeping baby all cozied up in the wrap you’ve got strapped to you. “I’m so sorry about this. This guy’s been sick, and the little miss is using it to her advantage since I can’t chase after her like normal.”

The man tuts, giving you a sympathetic smile. He looks down at the girl who’s now hugging the back of your leg, poking her head around to meet his eyes. He hums once, pulling out his wallet.

“Alright if I get her the cake pop she’s fussin’ ‘bout?” He asks, nodding his head toward the array of colorful treats.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you wave your hands frantically in dismissal, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nonsense, I insist. Matter fact, what did you want? Some coffee?” He pushes, guiding you closer to the counter with him to show that he’s serious.

“I was gonna get a latte,” you frown, feeling bad for taking advantage of this man’s kindness, no matter how badly he wants to do it.

“Atta girl. That all?” He pats your shoulder, and you ease up a bit—however, still on alert for the girl that’s hiding behind your leg.

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” you smile kindly, rubbing your fingertips along the child’s arm as she giggles.

“None o’that. Call me John,” he grins, handing the barista some money.

You urge the little girl up to grab the cake pop from the barista’s hand. She mutters out a shy thank you (much in contrast to the nonsensical rants she always gives you) before hiding behind the safety of your legs once again. You huff softly in amusement and follow John over to wait for your coffee. He watches as the child takes a bite of her cake pop, chuckling in satisfaction before looking back up to you. His eyes twinkle as he watches you run your fingertips over the stirring infant’s eyelids, trying to get him back to sleep.

“You want to be a mum,” he muses.

It’s less of a question, more of a statement, and it catches you off guard. You sputter with surprise, eyes darting down to the girl enjoying her treat in order to avoid his prying gaze. There’s something about the way he looks at you—not in a predatory way, but in a protective way, like he’s known you for years—that makes you feel strangely content. At home in a foreign place. The little girl seems to sense your comfortable state because she stops hiding behind you and goes to give John a hug around his legs. You apologize profusely but he just leans down to pat the tot on her back.

“Gotta stop apologizin’, love. The little one’s just thankin’ me for the cake pop,” he chuckles, humming his own thanks to the barista as he takes his tea and your latte from her hands.

“Sorr- um. Thank you, John,” you take your drink from him, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat as your fingers brush against his. “But really, let me pay you back. I have cash, or I can send it to you-”

“What are you doing later? Once you haven’t got the kiddos, I mean,” he interrupts, trying to conceal the way his eyes had been glued to your lips as you spoke.

You furrow your eyebrows, not expecting to be interrupted, but the softness in those baby blues of his take away any negativity you might have felt. You shrug, sighing when you realize that the baby cuddled into your chest is now fully awake and will absolutely not go back to sleep.

“Not much, honestly. Was gonna cook dinner for myself,” you explain, smiling softly as you watch John wave to the baby, freckled nose scrunched in delight.

“Tell you what: how about I take you out instead, yeah? Consider it payin’ me back,” he beams, hopeful cerulean eyes staring into yours.

“Spending more money on me is paying you back?” You laugh, giving the little girl a stern look as she smacks your thigh to get your attention.

“Spendin’ time with a beautiful woman is more than enough. Swear it,” he pulls his phone from his pocket and offers it to you.

You try to conceal your embarrassment, taking his phone and typing your contact information into it. As you hand it back, John gives you a wink and a pleased hum.

“I’ll give you a call later, hm?” He smiles, patting your shoulder gently when you nod your agreement. “Have fun with the little ones.”

You wave a flustered goodbye to John as the impatient little girl grabs your hand and all but drags you out of the café.

Next ->

[depravitycentral]

Tw: mild misogyny, physical assault, sexual harassment, he's icky nasty

“Y’know, you get this look when you’re mad.” He starts, and you straighten, back going taut as you wait for him to continue. Your back is to him, and you’re painfully aware of the heavy sound of his footsteps, slowly approaching you with a pace that makes shivers prickle along your arms.

“It’s like…” He starts, a noise following that you can only assume must be contemplative. “It’s like you’ve just missed the last train, or maybe someone cut you in line and got the last soda. It’s angry, sure, but it’s more like you’ve given up, if that makes sense.”

You peek at him, now, out of the corner of your eye. You’re not sure what brought this on – he’d just been out to get a coffee from the campus café, promising to be back in a few minutes. That’d been thirty minutes ago.

Working on the project together hadn’t been your choice, but when he turned to you in class and nudged you, quirking his brows and promising to work real hard, you’d merely shrugged, genuinely ambivalent. You didn’t know anyone else in the class, only taking it as an elective, and it was supposed to be pretty easy.

“See, you’re doing it right now.” He snorts a bit, and now you fully turn to look at him.

“Thirty minutes? The café’s next door.” You’re a little irritated, sure, but not terribly so. Working on the project wasn’t exactly your idea of fun, either.

He winces, eyebrows drawing together, but offers you an apologetic smile. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that.”

He sits down next to you, the otherwise empty classroom making the squeaking chair echo. The smell of coffee fills the room as he sets down his own cup, steam billowing from the sipping slit. You’re about to open your mouth to ask him if he’s finally ready to get started, but when he places a to-go cup down in front of you, too, your mouth snaps closed.

“Just guessed what you’d want, sorry. For whatever it’s worth, your drink’s the one that took so long to make.”

You glance at him, finding his gaze already stuck on you, but you just smile a bit. “Okay, forgiven.”

He laughs, clapping his hands together in a praying motion. “Thank god.”

Your laptop’s open in front of you, and for a few minutes the only sound filling the room is the clicking of keys and occasional sipping. Much to your surprise, he’d managed to select a drink you didn’t mind. Taking a small sip, you sighed at the flavor. It was cold in the classroom and the warmth was welcomed.

“So, what are you thinking for colors? I like my PowerPoints to be pretty, but if you want it to be more simple then that’s okay.” You look over at him as you finish, watching the way he bites his lip.

“Mm, maybe black and white? Y’know, just real simple. Simple’s always good.” He winks at you, and you slowly nod.

“Okay, uh, sure.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know much about your seatmate – he’d ran into class five minutes late the first day, quickly rushing into the closest open seat which happened to be next to you. You’d been a little irritated at first at how his stuff sprawled out and invaded your space, but he seemed nice and was decently participatory in class, making you grow a bit fond of him. Besides, the professor always looked so thankful when he was the only one to raise his hand – and for that, you could let his more questionable behavior slide.

“You’re doing it again, you know.” He starts, a finger coming out to poke at the side of your arm.

Jumping, you whirl on him. “What?”

“Doing your angry-but-not-really face.”

“I’m not mad, I promise.”

“Sure, sure. Then hopefully you won’t be mad if I do… this.” He starts, before reaching out to flick your pencil over the side of the table.

You’re frozen for a second, before staring at him blankly. “What the fuck?”

He grins. “I just wanna see if that look gets worse when you’re for real irritated, y’know?”

You sigh, reaching down to pick it up off the floor. Fixing him a look, you cross your arms. “Better? Because I am definitely irritated now.”

He appraises you, leaning a few inches closer. “Mhm, just as I thought! Your lips get thinner, and your eyebrows get all tight.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to face your laptop again. You only get a few words typed before he’s snickering under his breath, voice low as he mutters, “Most guys think that’s pretty unattractive, just so you know.”

Immediately you stop typing. Maybe partnering with him wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“What’s your problem?” You ask, and he looks at you again, hands poised over his own keyboard.

“What? Sorry if I hit a sensitive spot – girls are so weird about stuff like that. You’re pretty, don’t worry.”

You stay staring at him, and he only snickers. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s the look I’m talking about. Kind of kicked-puppy, like you’re real sorry for yourself.”

Standing up from your chair, you set your hands on your hips and face him. “Okay, listen you ass, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m not dealing with this shit.”

You start to gather your stuff, but your partner only laughs a bit, before reaching out and flicking your pencil once more, this time a little bit further. With a huff, you smack at his arm and set your things down with a loud thud onto the wood, moving to the side of the desk and bending down to pick it up.

He’s quicker than you’d expected, given the frumpy sweatshirt and sweatpants he wears that hide the muscular physique underneath.

Hands encircle your wrists before you can think, body rotated harshly, back hitting the linoleum floor with enough force to knock the wind out of you. He’s above you, strong thighs caging your legs together underneath him. Your wrists are held up above your head, his single hand large enough to keep them pinned there. It isn’t until now that you realize just how tall he is, or how strong.

“What the fuck – “ You start, struggling and wiggling in his grasp. With growing panic, you realize you’re not able to make much progress, his muscles feeling like stone against you. A hand quickly comes down to slap over your mouth, muffling any yells or screams.

He’s staring at you, expression blank, something heavy simmering behind his eyes. Slowly though, the corner of his mouth tilts up, and it spreads, something resembling a grin stretching across his mouth – though his eyes don’t change.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got a filthy mouth?” He asks, voice a bit quieter now, more of a whisper and deeper somehow – deep enough to make you freeze, momentarily stopping your struggle. His eyes are sharp, scary, too much – he’s too close to you, leaning closer and closer and making you press yourself harder and harder against the dirty classroom floor.

He laughs again. “But that’s okay, I like that about you. It’s like you’re wild, like you’re untamed. Real.” His eyes flash. “Raw. Ha, I just know girls love to hear that word.”

Your eyes go wide, the insinuation making your struggling pick back up again. You’re thrashing, but he only squeezes at your jaw, tutting at you.

“Nuh-uh, none of that, okay? And don’t worry,” he throws you a smile that makes your eyes feel wet, your nose tingling, “I’m not gonna do that. At least, not here. Y’know, I’ve got a little bit of decency, I know girls like mattresses, pillows, and shit like that.”

He licks his lips. “Anyways, back to that mouth of yours…”

Quickly, and without any warning, the hand over your mouth shifts up and down, two long, curling fingers plunging past your lips and laying heavily against your tongue.

Your face twists up, eyebrows knotting together in disgust because his fingers taste like salt. He grins again, and to your horror, his fingers start moving. Rubbing against your tongue, pressing down and down, the pads of his fingers feeling like sandpaper against you.

“You always get a look when you’re angry, sure, but did you know you get this look when you’re really happy, too? It’s like you’ve seen something Earth-shattering, like it’s something almost holy.” The fingers move and angle under, rubbing against the soft underside of your tongue, down and pressing against the space underneath your tongue. He shudders. “They say this part feels like pussy. That true?”

You can’t move, can’t even breath as he shoves his fingers down deeper, moving to run over all of your teeth, a whistle slipping past his lips. “But you’re real pretty when you’re smiling, you know. Makes me wanna stare at you. When you answer a question right and professor tells you ‘exactly!’, you get this big grin and it’s damn cute. Always staring at those lips of yours – they get thinner when you’re smiling, y’know? Stretched taut, always makes me think what all they can do. Just how much they can stretch, if you get what I’m saying.”

You do, but you wish you didn’t, and he must know that because his fingers move to dip into the lower corners of your mouth, slipping between your back molars and your inner cheeks, prodding and poking at the juncture between gum and cheek. “Pretty, pretty, pretty. Even like this – you’re puckered, which I guess isn’t the same thing, but I like it.”

He hums, taking his time as his fingers dip and poke at every inch of your mouth, running over every bump and curve of your teeth, pinching your tongue between his finger pads, thumb rubbing circles against the underside of your chin.

“Do you like this?” He murmurs, those eyes locked on the motion of his fingers inside your mouth, the imprint visible against your cheeks. He licks his lips again. “I’ve heard some girls like shit in their mouth. Obviously I think my cock’d be better, but this works too. Works for me, that’s for sure.”

He laughs at that, shifting his hips forward, and you whimper when you feel what you can only assume is his erection against your thigh. His nostrils flare at the sound. “Fuck babe, that’s good. Do that again.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying desperately to pretend you’re somewhere else, but his grip on your wrist gets tighter, tight enough to hurt and oh ow ow ow –

You gasp around his fingers, the sound choking, and he whines lowly in his throat. “God, you’re fucking pretty. Your smile’s good, but you look good like this too, just so you know. All scared, shivering and squirming around… Ha, see? This is kind of like that angry face I was talking about. All terrified and self-patronizing, feeling back for yourself.”

He cocks his head to the side, fingers pushing in even further in a fluid motion, reaching to touch the back of your throat, making you gag. He bites his lip. “Kind of pisses me off that you’re so afraid of me, but I get it. I can forgive you. Besides…”

He leans down, nose nudging at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Something warm and wet lolls out to run in languid strokes along your skin, the tee-shirt you’re wearing doing little to deter him. In fact, he takes the hem between his teeth, sucking at the fabric and letting his hair brush against your jawline. You shut your eyes again.

“I know what will make that face even better, how you’ll get even more angry.”

You stop, dread filling every muscle in your body.

He laughs against your skin, nibbling lightly and smiling at the way you jolt away. “Remember how I said I like your smile? How I think it’s just so damn pretty?”

You’re too frozen to move – not like you could, anyway. The linoleum feels especially cold against you.

He grins, pulling back to look at you. He presses a kiss against his hand, right over your lips. “Well, when we met up today and you looked at me like that, smiling at me – at me, I mean, what was I supposed to do?”

His cock’s pressing against your thigh again, humping lightly as it grows harder, bigger, more insistent. “I know you’re not stupid. Coffees don’t take thirty minutes to get. So you know what I did with the other twenty minutes, then, right? C’mon, you’re smart, think about it.”

He’s staring at you again, mirth swimming in his eyes. “Let’s just say my refractory period is damn short.”

Immediately there’s bile climbing up your throat because the salty taste of his fingers – his right hand, no less – is all too strong now, the smell of his pinky pressed up against your nose musky and heady and god, you’re going to be sick. 

He’s quick to press harder against your mouth, though, tutting against at you. “Oh, don’t worry, I washed my hands after the first round. But then your drink was done, and I couldn’t keep you waiting, right? After all I know how you get when you’re mad.”

He sighs, leaning down to press his forehead against yours again. “Now, about that mouth.”

He grins, eyes sparkling as he ruts against your thigh and asks, “On your knees or on your back? I’ll let you choose, babe.”

Atsumu Miya, Kenji Futakuchi, Takahiro Hanamaki, Shoyo Hinata, Tetsurou Kuroo, young Enji Todoroki, Tomura Shigaraki, Kaigaku, some flavor of Tengen Uzui, Ryusei Shidou

[justkending]

Pink or Violet? (Part two of "It's just a papercut..." Drabble)

(All gifs are from Pinterest)

(Part two of "It's just a papercut..." Drabble)

Pairing: Grumpy Bucky x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Well, wow-ie wow, wow... Y'all blew up the last little drabble connected to this one, so I had to grant myself some writing time today to come up with a follow-up drabble. This one is a lot more lighthearted and a good 5-8 months in the future (your choice, really). Thank you, guys, for all the love on the last one, and I hope this one is a nice extension of it ;)

________________

“Have you ever considered going brunette? Whoa!” I sense the knife before I see it and manage to expertly dodge it with a laugh. “Hey, my teammate said I’m not allowed to get stabbed anymore, big guy,” I shun, turning in my spot, kicking the man in the nuts, and as he folds over in pain, I hold his head perfectly to knee him in the face, hearing a satisfying crunch, causing him to land with a thump to my side. “Rude to interrupt conversations, too, dude.” 

Currently, we were in the middle of a stakeout… Or what started as a stakeout and now is a full-on brawl. 

Nat and I were rudely interrupted in our conversation about disguises we wanted to try, when an explosion in the facility we were monitoring took over the west wing. 

“I’ve done a wig,” Nat answers as she jumps, doing one of her classic moves where she’s sat on the shoulders of her assaulter, choking him out with her thighs before flinging her body to where she’s standing again casually and the man is incapacitated passed out on the floor. “Not that I didn’t find it flattering, but it’s harder to dye back with such a dark color.” She shrugs as she moves on to her next victim. 

I bend grabbing the knife from the man I just took down and flip it a few times in my hand. “Makes sense.” I nod with a convinced look. “On your right,” I hum, and she ducks while I throw the knife perfectly to where it lodges itself in the thigh of her attacker. 

A blood-curdling scream sounds at his pain, and I pout at him in fake sympathy as Nat shoots her widow bite as he falls, making him shake in shock before passing out. 

“What about you?” she asks with a breath, brushing her hair out of her face. “Ever considered a neon green?” 

“What? No. Am I trying to get caught in this undercover scenario?” I reload my gun before holstering it, and we start jogging to our next spot. 

“I just think it’d be fun to venture away from the neutral tones for once. Maybe there would be a mission where you did need to be found and-” Nat’s cut off by coms in our ears. 

“Ladies, enough salon talk,” Tony’s voice comes through. “We have a situation in the northeast corridor with much more pressing matters happening!” 

“We’re coming!” Nat groaned. “God. Micromanager is in full force today.” 

“Besides, Y/N’s skin complexion wouldn’t work with a neon green. Maybe a pink, though…” Tony continues before his comms cut out, and he’s back to shooting things from the sky.

“Oh, pink would be really good with your skin tone,” Nat seconds as we turn a corner. 

“No one is dying their hair pink! I could use some backup!” Bucky’s shouts come from the comms next.

“Where’s Steve?” Nat asks, pausing at a fork in the halls before signaling me to follow. 

“Caught up at the moment,” Steve’s grunts came through my earpiece. 

“Almost there, Barnes!” I note as we come to the hall where he’s supposedly located. “And I’ll have you know, if I want to dye my hair pink, I’ll damn well dye my hair pink!” 

“Guns, Y/N,” Bucky groans. “I have guns going off around me and at me. I’m not worried about a fake scenario right now. I’m worried about a really real one that’s-” He’s cut off and grunts a few times. “Please just-” 

The two men he was up against fall slack to the ground, and he’s left panting with relief as he turns back to me, standing at the end of the hall with my gun lowering down to my side. 

“Please, what? I like it when you use your manners,” I smirk as I walk up proudly to him. 

“You need to be humbled a touch,” he notes, shaking his head as he checks his weapons and reloads them while I walk to stand by him. 

I roll my eyes before assessing our surroundings as he gears up. “You’re just jealous because the girls have more fun with undercover makeovers. You want a pink wig too?” I tease, poking his shoulder. 

He playfully shoves my own and makes me teeter some as I laugh. 

“I got the information!” Steve’s shout come back through. “We can wrap this up.” 

“Thank God,” I groan, adjusting my holster on my hip. “I have dinner plans.” 

“Sorry to interrupt your nightly, never-changing program,” Tony snarks. 

“It’s ok. You can compensate by paying for my meal,” I retort back, pushing the button in my ear to keep it in place. “Speaking of compensation…” 

“Y/N, I swear if you say you stole my credit card information again,” Tony groans. 

“What, me? No… I would nev-” 

“Shut it. I don’t even have the energy to fight you.” 

I turn to Bucky and wink, and he’s biting back a laugh with a wide smile. 

“You’re a mess, you know that?” he says lowly, the comms not picking up on us. 

“You like it,” I shrug and start moving down the corridor, where Nat’s waving us on to follow. 

“That I do,” he hums, following behind me and playfully kicking my ass with the tip of his boot. “Now, these dinner plans…” 

“Interested?” 

“More than you know…” 

____________________

Back at the compound, freshly out of the shower, I hear a knock on my door. “Just got out of the shower, but the doors unlocked!” I shout. 

“Dinner’s arrived!” Bucky shouts, shutting the door behind him carefully. 

“Thank God. I’m starving,” I grumble, throwing my sweatshirt over my head after getting dressed. “I’ll send Tony a thank you card later for covering tonight's meal,” I hum, drying my hair with a towel as I come into the room. 

The greased takeout bag smells fresh of hole-in-the-wall dinner food, making my mouth water. I grin as Bucky places it on the coffee table in front of my couch and starts arranging the containers for us to splurge. 

“No, you won’t,” Bucky responds to my thank you card comment. 

“No, I won’t,” I agree, jumping over the back of the couch and bouncing into the seat next to him. “Hmm, you smell nice.” I’ve come to learn, and so has Bucky, that his body wash might as well be my kryptonite. 

“I can say the same for-,” he bumps me with his elbow before his eyes narrow on my exposed shoulder, and without a second thought, he grabs my arms and moves my body to face him. “What’s that?” 

“What’s what?” I ask, looking down at the spot he’s glaring at as best as I can. 

“You got a cut,” he points out, hovering his fingers around the area and moving my sweatshirt out of the way. 

Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have cut the neckline to half my sweatshirt after that stupid TikTok trend I saw the kids doing… Or at least worn one that wasn’t butchered tonight.

“Buck, it’s literally a scratch. And I’m genuinely not downplaying it at all,” I note, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hands away, but they have an iron grip on me. 

Or should I say, vibranium grip on me?! Haha! Get it?.. No? Ok, moving on…

But seriously. The cut was just that. A cut. It wasn’t anything like the night we talked things out months and months ago. That one had become slightly scarred, whereas this one will be scabed over in the morning and likely be gone in 2-3 days. I might as well have gotten into it with a cat who was pissed when he figured out he’d been put on a diet. 

“A cut’s a cut,” Bucky argues, looking up at me. “Did you clean it?” 

“Yes, I cleaned it in the shower with the rest of my body. I disinfected it, and it has that balm on it. And before you ask,” I say just as he opens his mouth. “Yes, it’s that special salve you had Banner make for me. I’m set.” 

Bucky had become a little more intense when it came to my injuries since about three missions ago, I had moved at the perfect time to redirect a knife headed right at him, but it sliced my wrist in the redirection, and much to my misfortune, it was laced with something. 

To add to the list of medications he’s had Banner concoct specifically for my clumsy self (which were in the double digits at this point), I now have a poison control cream that counteracts most toxins and keeps me from saying hello to Heaven sooner than I hope. 

“You don’t feel weird or anything?” His eyes are scanning mine and my face for any lies or other injuries I haven’t told him about, and I’ve come to learn if it makes him feel better to double-check up to 20x before being satisfied, I’ll allow it. 

“I’m right as rain,” I nod, smiling at him softly, squeezing my grip on his wrist in reassurance. “The only thing I’m feeling is hungry and tired. So, what movie are we watching that I’ll inevitably fall asleep on you during?” 

He hesitates for a moment and then nods, dropping his hands and going back to the food. 

“I was thinking Tombstone,” he answers, grabbing one of the to-go containers with fries and a burger and handing it to me. 

“Another Western? What’s got you on the cowboy kick?” I ask, taking it and popping it open, instantly attacked by the smell of freshly seasoned fries. 

“You keep nicknaming me cowboy, so I figured I should have a little background knowledge of the profession,” he winks at me over his shoulders as he gets his own food together. 

“Oh, yeah? You like the nickname?” I ask, nudging him with my knee. 

“When it comes from you? Yeah. Sam? No. Without hesitation, I will start adding laxatives to his protein shakes if he keeps it up.” 

I laugh at their friendship, and we start up the movie, diving into our much-deserved greasy meal. 

_____________

The next day, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda are lounging on the living room couch, all doing their own thing. Wanda and Sam are watching Sex in the City. Steve was reading a book called The Secret War of Laos, and Bucky was on his computer, fully engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

Nat clears her throat, and I stand next to her in a baseball cap with my hair completely hidden underneath. Everyone looks up, and instantly, Bucky’s eyes fall on me. He smiles for a split second before it drops, and he furrows his eyebrows at my appearance. 

“We have an announcement,” Nat smiles mischievously. 

“Oh God…” Bucky rubs his temples and looks down in his lap in seconds. 

“You don’t even know what we’re going to say,” I argue, not able to hold back my laugh. 

“I can use context clues,” he grumbles before looking up, his eyes squinted as if he had a bad headache forming, and it was already making his eyesight worse. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Nat waves him off as Sam and Wanda chuckle, and Steve looks oblivious to what is happening. “Anyway. Y/N and I made a bet and, well… Y/N lost.” 

“Surprisingly, not mad about it,” I shrug, arms crossed over my chest.

“Of course, you’re not…” Bucky mumbles, shutting his computer and putting it to the side.

“What did I miss exactly? Because everyone seems to know what’s happening…” Steve asks, confused, taking in everyone’s reactions. 

“Come on. Let’s see it.” The brunette interlaces his hands and rests them in his lap as he watches me. 

I smile at Nat, who’s also grinning wide, and move to take the ballcap off.

“Awesome,” Sam is the first to say something, and Wanda claps and gushes. 

“Oh wow, that’s so cute!” She smiles widely. 

“Whoa. That’s…” Steve turns his head to the side.

“Pink,” Bucky finishes for him. His eyebrows raise in what looks like surprise as he takes in my new hair. 

“Do you like it?” Nat asks the group, and there’s a mix of reactions as they talk over each other. 

I laugh with them for a little before walking over to Bucky’s side of the couch. Plopping down next to him, the crew talks about their own personal transformations they’d like to do and quickly forget about us in the corner. 

“Thoughts?” I ask, smirking up at Bucky as I sit almost wholly tucked into his side. His arm comes around my shoulders, resting there as he looks at me from the side. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he chuckles once, taking it in up close now. 

“Eh, I thought a change-up would be fun. Change. Is. Good,” I shrug, poking his chest with each word. 

He moves to touch my hair, and as soon as his fingers touch it, his face contorts into an investigative look. 

“What?” I ask, biting my lip as he’s already catching on to my ploy. 

“This isn’t,” he rubs a piece of hair in between his fingers, studying the texture. The crease in between his eyebrows drops instantly, and he deadpans to me. “It’s a wi-” 

“Shhh!” I hush him, almost jumping in his lap as I cover my hand over his lips. He freezes, eyes wide, and his hand instinctively goes to my waist to balance me. “Let me live this fantasy a little longer,” I smile, holding back a giggle. 

“This is a fantasy of yours?” He asked behind my hands, words muttered and raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe fantasy isn’t the right word-” 

“Because it’s starting to turn into one for me,” he cuts in, and I can feel his smirk in the palm of my hand. 

I slowly drop it, astonished at his confession. “I’m sorry. Did I hear that right?” I ask, peering at our friends who are now arguing with Sam about growing an afro, which he is all for, apparently. 

Instead of answering, he licks his lips as he brings his hands to the wig and plays with strands of it.

“Maybe not the pink, but… How’d you feel about a violet?” he asked, eyes slowly rising to mine. 

“Oh. My. God…” I say lowly, sinking back in my seat, pressed to his side. “Did we just discover a new kink of yours?” 

“I fear we may have…” His voice was low and made a shiver go down my back. 

“I hold no fear at all,” I smirked back at him, looking him up and down. “All I feel about that statement is excitement…” 

“Where exactly did you get this? Because it looks pretty realistic…” His fingers still play with the wig, which, thanks to Nat, is a higher-end one. How he caught on to it being a wig is impressive. 

“Doesn’t matter,” I shrug. “What matters is I happen to know they carry all the colors…” I smirk. 

“Interesting.” 

“Interesting, indeed.” 

He starts to stand up, and I’m confused by the action until he turns and offers me a hand. Once I’m standing, he leans closer and down to whisper in my ear, my hand still in his.

“We can keep this one for now. I have a few ideas still.” 

I look up at him, pleasant surprise on my face. “You know how I said change is good?” He nods with a smirk, his hand squeezing mine in response. “This,” I motion between us. “This is a change I’m glad happened.” 

“Same here,” he winked, pulling my arm so I was flush against him, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, escorting me out of the room.

“Where are they going?” Nat asks, confused at our sudden leave. 

Everyone turns to see the tail end of us leaving, and Wanda laughs after a second and quickly covers her mouth. “God, pray for her,” she says under her breath, and Nat gives her a look. She tries to play it off by coughing and shaking her head. “Sorry, something in my throat.”

Marvel Tags:

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My Lovelies Forever:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

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