#the more he gets older the better he looks

[organic-bloodbath]

Can you write about a shy reader who is involved with Gi-hun's group and she is completely oblivious to Thanos showing interest in her until the Mingle challenge when it came down to 2 people and Thanos saw an opportunity to get close to the reader?

Mingle

Thanos x Reader

Summary: As above.

A/N: Bestie this is EXACTLY what i've wanted to write. Please leave any other requests you have in mind 🫶🏻

☆☆☆

Thanos was surrounded by his fans, all clinging on him and ready to take a picture together.

"Hey, there's room for one more," he said with a smirk and winked an eye to you. You didn't say anything, only quickly turned away and left, walking faster than before and hands in your pockets.

During the Red light Green light game, Thanos noticed that you seemed to be a little clumsy and struggled to stay still. He wasn't far away from you and ran in front of you, pushing others out of his way, not caring if they fell and got killed.

"Stay behind me, pretty flower," he said with a low voice, but loud enough that you heard. You were confused but thankful.

During the run towards the goal you were stumbling a little bit once in a while and if it weren't for Thanos, you would have been shot several times. You had always had a bad coordination.

Every time someone was shot, you had to shut your eyes and just imagine that it wasn't real, people weren't actually getting killed if you didn't see it. You pretended it to be just an act. Your entire body was shaking and you had never struggled this much to stay calm.

You crossed the finish line when there was only 4 seconds left and couldn't believe that you actually made your way into safety.

"Glad to see that a pretty face made it through," Thanos said next to you, his shoulder almost brushing yours.

"Yeah, um, thank you," you said quietly.

When they shot the rest of the players who hadn't managed to cross the line in time, you shut your eyes again and put hands against your ears to muffle out the sound.

You didn't know how long you stayed standing there like that, until you felt a hand touching your arm, making you to open your eyes.

"It's over now, okay?" Thanos said, looking at you with a concerned look.

☆☆☆

"Señorita, excuse me," a voice said right behind you, making you startle and turn around. "Play a game with me."

You struggled to get a word out of your mouth at first, nervous having a few men around him stare at you as well.

"Um, no thank you," you mumbled. "I already got a group, sorry."

"You can still change," Thanos suggested and stepped closer, standing right in front of you. He was a lot taller than you and you had to look up to meet his eyes. "I'll keep you safe, okay?"

"I'll pass, thanks," you said, feeling awkward and your mouth turning into a thin line. You didn't want to abandon your group, now that they had just found the correct amount of players to play the game.

Thanos looked after you as you hurried away from him without another word and narrowed his eyes. You joined a group of a few older men, and by looking at them, Thanos knew you would have a better change of winning with him than them.

☆☆☆

"You were good at Ddakji," Thanos said, appearing next to you out of thin air. "Maybe we could play it together some day. You win - you get to slap me. I win - i get to give you a kiss."

"I don't slap people for fun," you answered, with a tone as if his offer had been offensive.

"Well, then i'll make sure to win every round, hm?"

"I never lose," you said coldly, but a short smile spread on your lips just to mock him.

"I always like a good-" Thanos started but you were already walking away to have a dinner with your friends, ignoring him completely.

☆☆☆

During the Mingle game, Thanos saw you with the same group of men as before - they seemed to protect you well and not leave you alone even once. A younger man, possibly around his age, made sure to always grab your hand and lead you to another room with other players.

When it was time to find a room with a group of 2, Thanos started running towards one of the rooms with Nam-gyu, kicking other people out of his way. But when he was about to enter the room and already held the door frame, he looked behind him and saw something what made his heart drop.

Just a moment ago you had had a partner, but now you had fallen on the floor, none of your group members in sight, not even the man who had protected you previously. You were all alone and holding your ankle, struggling to get up.

"Sorry, brother, you're on your own right now," Thanos said, patting Nam-gyu on his shoulder a few times and sprinting away from him.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" he heard Nam-gyu yelling after him but he didn't turn to look at him. Instead, he looked at the time left and then at you.

20 seconds.

You didn't notice him arriving next to you and when he scooped you in his arms, you let out a startled yelp.

Your eyes widened when you looked at him carrying you to safety as fast as he could, your arms automatically wrapping themselves around his neck to keep you from falling, even though he had a firm grip on you.

Thanos opened one of the rooms and put you down, but two people were already in the room. He didn't hesitate even a second, instantly throwing them out of there, closing the door and hearing it to lock right after.

You stared at him in shock and were panting rapidly, ready to have a panic attack soon. When the shootings started, you winced and were about to put your hands against your ears to muffle out the sound.

But Thanos was immediately next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly against him, pressing your head against his chest with his hand against your ear. You closed your eyes and didn't hear barely anything else than his heart beat which was a lot faster than normal.

You melted in his arms and felt yourself to calm down a little bit, feeling the panic leave your body. When the shootings had stopped, he pulled you away from him, but had a grip on your shoulders, making you to look at him

"Why were you there all alone and not with your group?" Thanos asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You weren't sure if he was angry, worried or simply saw you as pathetic, thinking you had given up so easily.

"I was pushed away... I um... I don't really remember," you mumbled and slightly shook your head. "Why did you save me and not your friend?"

"I told you i'd keep you safe."

"But your friend..."

"He can take care of himself," Thanos said and shrugged. "And if he couldn't - well, it was nice knowing another fan i guess."

You kept staring at him directly in his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. This was the first time he got a proper eye contact with you, previously you always avoided his gaze.

"Well, thank you, Thanos." You let yourself give him a little smile, which made Thanos to feel warm inside.

"You know my name, huh?"

"Doesn't everyone?" you asked like it was common knowledge.

"Fair," he shrugged. "I think i deserve to hear your name as well or do i continue calling you 'pretty flower'?"

You felt your cheeks feel hot and turn red and you broke the eye contact for a moment. Thanos found it adorable how two words could make you so flustered.

"Y/N."

"Y/N," Thanos whispered, as if trying to taste what it felt like in his mouth. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

Your cheeks got even warmer now, you weren't used to guys complimenting your looks or barely any attention from guys at all. That line was so cheesy and used too it made you cringe, just a little bit.

"Thanks," you nervously said and put a strand of hair behind your ear. "What's yours? Your real name?"

Thanos looked at you for a moment, comtemplating whether to reveal it or not.

"Su-bong," he soon said.

"Su-bong," you said, wondering where you had heard the name before. "Oh, i knew a Su-bong once. He was my neighbour, died choking in a pancake."

"I hope they won't serve us pancakes here then," Thanos chuckled and quickly crossed his fingers. "That would be an embarrassing way to die. I'd also want to get out of here alive so i can take you on a date after all this. With or without the pancakes."

Your chest felt tighter and you had butterflies in your stomach, but before you could respond, the lock on the door opened and you were allowed to leave. The game was now over.

You were thankful that the door was unlocked right at that moment, because you didn't know what to say. Nobody had asked you out before, partly because you avoided people and had social anxiety.

"Y/N!" a man shouted on the other side of the room. "Y/N, where are you?!"

You walked towards the voice and locked eyes with Dae-ho, huge relief on both of your faces. Seeing that him and the rest of your group was safe, you felt a lot lighter and felt like you could breathe freely again.

Before you were able to return to your group, Thanos grabbed your wrist to make you look at him one more time.

"Join me for dinner tonight?" he suggested. "I'd be happy to share my dry rice and milk with you."

"Um," you quickly glanced towards your group waiting for you, as if trying to get them approval without any words. "Okay."

This time when you left him, you gave him a warm smile, biting your lip to keep it in but failing.

"Were you really going to let me die because you want to get laid?" Nam-gyu spat next to him, Thanos had barely heard him arrive there, he was busy looking after your figure. "I was forced to save some useless old man."

Thanos turned to look at him with a stare so cold and deadly that Nam-gyu was prepared for a fist on his face and getting a broken nose, making him take a step back with his hands in the air as defense.

"You shut the fuck up," Thanos threatened, his demeanor immediately changing from nice to angry when he changed his attention on Nam-gyu.

Thanos spared one last glance at you before you all left the game area, you having Dae-ho's arm around your shoulder and him making you laugh about something.

Thanos couldn't help but feel a little sting of jealousy stab his heart.

[deadhands69]

I know this trope is done to DEATH but I love the idea of personal knight katsuki and royal reader🥺

Katsuki who’s maybe a few years older than you, who loves to watch you sit in the courtyard, and lets you read to him because you can see he’s paying attention. Katsuki who pretends he hates how you practically give him a fashion show every morning in your new gown but it’s his favorite thing you do. Katsuki who’s there when you’re sobbing over the death of your beloved horse, you’re clinging to him as he softly talks you down. Katsuki who sits outside your door listening to the soft moans that come from within, hard as a rock in his gear, knowing that you’re calling his name, debating whether to stay out here or go inside and help his beloved girl.

I hope you can see my vision 🧐

-🌸

Hi 🌸!

Hope this is what you were thinking, I haven't written a knight/royal au before so it was a fun challenge!

Katsuki Bakugo stands at the door, feeling himself grow harder against the constraints of his armor. Through the cracks in the thick wooden door at his back, he can hear your soft moans floating through the air. It’s certainly not the first time. He’s been your personal knight for years, with you through everything. It’s his job to guard your door, regardless of what you’re doing in your chambers, but typically you at least try to muffle the pretty sounds you make. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you want him to hear it.

No, that can’t be it.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, willing himself to regain composure for your sake. It’s no use, his mind drifts to forbidden territory. The way you looked in your new gown this morning. How you like to pull his visor up, gaze never leaving his face when you drag him by the hand through the meadow to pick flowers. Today you looked into his eyes, the same way you always do and he had to fight off every fiber of his being screaming at him to kiss you. He can only imagine the taste of your lips. The taste of - no, spending time with you is his job and it wouldn’t be fair to you if he indulged in these thoughts. It’s not his place. No matter how much he wants it to be.

He fusses with his armor to distract himself. Trying to make room for the growing erection he tries in vain to will away. 

“Katsuki,” your voice drifts into his ear.

Taking his glove off, he rubs his eyes. It’s been too long without sleep and now he’s hearing things. 

But he isn’t. 

Once more, your voice sings to him through the door like a siren song calling him to the rocks. “Katsuki, please,” your breath catches, dragging the last syllable into a whimper.

Visions of you moaning into your pillow, waiting for him flood his brain. You need him. And isn’t it part of his job to tend to your every desire?

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, hand hovering over the door latch. His fingers clench into a fist as he turns away, pacing the hall outside your chambers. 

“Please, I’m so close,” your voice calls out once more, absolutely breaking through any ounce of willpower he had left. Pressing through the heavy door, he finds you in your undergown. The soft linen bunches at your hips, your tired hands moving back to the bed as you press yourself up on your elbows. He slams the door shut, barring it from the inside before moving to kneel at your side. You’re still panting, eyes heavy lidded and cheeks flushed as you reach to remove his helmet. He knows you’re strong, but helps you anyways. The heavy pieces of his armor and chainmail clink to the floor until he’s down to the padded shirt and thin pants that do nothing to hide how turned on he is.

Reaching for his cheek, you pull him in until his lips meet yours. You taste sweeter than he ever could have dreamed and he can’t get enough. He hovers over your body, pressing you back to the bed before kissing his way down your neck. Through the thin white fabric, he feels your nipples harden under his touch. His hands slip lower, grabbing the backs of your legs. 

He shouldn’t be doing this, but deep down he already knows your relationship crossed the lines of proper long ago. All those days spent with you reading to him. Holding you through hard times. This is just the natural progression of things. 

“Need you,” you murmur down at him and all hesitation is lost. 

“You have me,” he taunts back. Lifting the material of your gown out of the way, he slides to the floor, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed. He kisses his way up your legs while moving them over his shoulders until his face rests on your inner thigh. His hot breath teases over your aching skin. 

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles into you. Your fingers run through his messy hair, giving you a better view of his face.

His chapped lips move over your folds, finding you dripping wet already. You weren’t lying when you said you were close. Passionately, he slides his tongue in and out of you, nose pressing hard into your clit. There’s nothing he’s ever wanted more than to hear you moan his name again (other than you running away with him and living happily ever after but he’ll start small.)

“Katsuki,” you cry breathlessly, “you feel so amazing.”

And he does, every lick rippling through your body like fire. Clenching his hair harder, you shove your hips into his face. His movements stutter as he whimpers at the feel of his slick mouth grinding over your cunt, teeth lightly brushing your most sensitive areas. 

“I’m gonna cu-” 

“Do it,” he pants before his tongue delves back into you. 

For a moment, you swear you could see stars. Forgetting when and where you are, like nothing outside the room exists or matters. He exhales hard, face collapsing into you as you slowly run your fingers over the side of his face, around his ear, and down his neck.

Eventually, he sits up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. Climbing onto the bed, he holds you and you savor every moment of it - not knowing how long it will be before you’ll be alone like this again.

[limethefirst]

Hello! I have a request for movie shadow if your alright with it? Can we have one where maybe shadow saved the reader at gun when he escaped and after he visited the base he kept Maria's skates perhaps and then as he trusts the reader cleans them up and give them to them on the crab?🥹. Showing them how to use them and the two end up bonding even more over it, shadow in his head promising to protect them after and not let what happened to Maria happen to them. This just sounds so flipping cute I hope this request I'd okay. Thank youuuu🥰.

Skating Friends

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: none

summary: After Shadow saves you from GUN during his escape he takes you along with him to visit the old base, stumbling upon a pair of skates he hadn't seen in a long time

a/n: did yall miss me, sorry i have so many requests this is gonna take me some time...i also want to drop a new story sometime maybe a DC one if life permits me, anyway sorry the requests take forever here you go see you all next time, tysm for keeping my blog relevant <3

Shadow didn't know why he brought you with him, he isn't the type to get close to people, at least not anymore. Yet here he was, walking through the old base, the lab, his home. Well, before it became a ruble of dust and broken pipes that gathered dust.

When Shadow first met you, he was shocked. You were being held at GUN against your will, trapped just like he was, it was part of the reason he kept you so close now. It was like he saw himself in you. Just some scared thing that had no choice in your own life, a slave to responsibility and ever droning duty.

You kept a safe distance between you and the hedgehog, he was solitary and it was easy to tell. He was slow as he walked through the dark and dusty corridor, like he wasn't all there. His min was else where, no matter how much he'd wish it wasn't. It was better to stay quiet when he was like this anyway.

Suddenly he stopped, his gaze was unwavering as he looked towards a pile of rocks that leaned against the cold wall. Quickly he made his way over, he was looking at something in the mess but you couldn't tell what yet. Quietly you moved a bit closer to him, following his line of sight until it landed on a pair of skates.

They were dirty and old. Like they'd been left behind, you gave Shadow a small look before putting your attention back on the skate he'd picked up. His brows furrowed as he held it in his hands, his gloved hands slightly tensing as he looked at the skates. A small huff escaped his lips as he put the skate back down and continued walking.

You stood there for a bit longer, watching as he walked off. A curious expression gracing your face. You didn't know exactly what Shadow went through, you'd heard bits and pieces, but it was easy to tell these skates meant something to him. As he was distracted you grabbed the skates on the ground, and shoved them into the small bag you had slung across your shoulders and quickly made your way back over to him. Following him again through the base.

As the day passed Shadow met with Gerald, a man who you came to learn was someone Shadow seemed to share deep rooted trauma with, and apparently that man had a grandson who was considerably just as intelligent as him. Both men as well as Shadow all made a plan to infiltrate GUN HQ and steal the keycard to an old plan that Gerald had some up.

Shadow not wanting to leave you behind, gestured for you to follow. So now here you were, onboard a strange crab like plane with 3 older men who seemed to have some strange thing going on and the resident hedgehog who kept to himself.

While you waited you went over to a quieter part of the Crab that would leave you unnoticed by everyone. Slowly you took out the skates that were still in your bag; you let out a small hum as you examined them. They were very old and very dirty, it even looked like they had stains but that just made you determined. This was going to be a long trip anyway might as well find something to do.

So while you all flew to London, you'd decided to try and refurbish the old skates. Sitting down in the corner you began to try and brush some of the dirt and dust away, clearly that didn't do much. So you quickly got up and grabbed some paper towels near the kitchen area of the Crab, dampening them slightly so that you could clean up the skates. You felt your arm getting sore from all the scrubbing that you had to do just to get all the gunk off.

The skates looked slightly better, you could actually see the color now. Blue, they were blue. Whoever owned them before had taste. You looked at the wheels, also cleaning them and taking out anything that would disrupt the skating process.

Shadow, noticing the lack of your presence behind him, turned around and tried to find where you'd gone before his eyes landed on a familiar sight. He's eyes scanned the skates, he noticed you trying to clean them. Unable to look away he made his way over to you in quick strides. You looked up at him and smiled at the hedgehog, one skate in your hand and the other still dirty on the ground.

He let out a small huff at the sight, it was oddly endearing, but it also brought back slight pain. Without hesitation Shadow grabbed the skate off the ground and from your hand before walking off without explanation. You sat there, mouth agape as he just grabbed the skates away from you.

Quickly you stood up, following behind him, "What are you doing?" You asked, trying to get a look of what he was doing with the skates.

"Here," he grumbled as he handed them back to you. They were clean, and the wheels turned fine, he had fixed them, "Put them on." He stated, leaving you no room to decline. Sitting down you took off your shoes and slipped the skates on, they fit well considering their age.

Shadow grabbed your arm, and helped you to your feet. He looked at the skates before looking back at you, "Keep them safe," although he tried to keep a cool demeanor it was easy to tell his voice softened as he addressed you about the skates. Clearly they held a lot of sentimental value for him yet he trusted you enough to have them.

"I can't skate, Shadow.." You stumbled a bit as you stood up, trying to keep your balance. He took notice of this and kept a safe distance as a way of making sure if you fell he'd help.

He thought for a moment before speaking up again, "I can show you then" He walked back slightly before he started to glide around a bit. His shoes seemed to have some type of wheels on them. Your eyes widened at this sudden revelation, not realizing he had his own skates this whole time. A subtle smile found it's way onto your lips before you tried to skate towards him, flailing your arms slightly to keep your balance. Shadow sighed at the sight, realizing he had his work cut out for him but you guys had a good amount of time before you reached London, which meant he could teach you.

Stone turned around from enviously watching the Robotnik's to look over at you two, his ears perking up at the sound of laughter that seemed to escape you. Shadow wouldn't admit that he was enjoying this, but then again he didn't need to. There was a small underlying understanding between you two.

And that was just fine.

[crescenthistory]

2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" but he is NOT "your sister is off limits loyal"

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulsu) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

[bomber-grl]

— Robin is Totally Cooler

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x Gn!Red Hood Fan!Reader

Word Count: 1456

-

You and Damian were lounging around after school. It was one of the rare chances you got to hang out at Wayne Manor and spend time with him. You were sprawled out on the floor near a beanbag in his room, and he was on his bed, chilling with Titus. You were scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, while Damian worked on some school assignments in the background.

It was nice—quiet. You didn't always need to be talking to enjoy each other's company. But then, as you were mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, you stumbled upon an edit of Red Hood. You were, without a doubt, one of Red Hood’s biggest fans. You couldn’t lie, the guy was definitely hot—even with that mask (maybe especially with it). There was something about him that was just... Well, y’know. And, of course, you couldn’t ignore how, despite his connection to Batman and the Batfamily, Red Hood always seemed to be working on his own terms. He definitely had a different way of fighting crime, and there was something so intriguing about that.

Damian seemed to notice the audio looping on your phone, and after a second, he sat up, prompting Titus to leave the room (sadly). "Let me guess," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "An edit of your latest celebrity crush?"

He raised an eyebrow, already knowing the answer. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you well enough at this point to predict what you were up to. To be fair, Damian didn’t really care about your celebrity or fictional crushes. He was used to you being... Well, you.

You laughed awkwardly and nodded, showing him the screen. The video was a montage of Red Hood clips, ranging from news footage to civilian-captured videos of him taking down bad guys with his signature ruthless style. As soon as Damian saw the screen, though, his face immediately dropped—and you weren’t exaggerating when you thought it soured so much, it was like you’d just mentioned his worst enemy.

“Really?” Damian’s tone was sharp, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the screen. “Him? Of all the—” He cut himself off with a frustrated sigh, clearly trying to hold back his irritation.

You raised an eyebrow, a little confused by his reaction. “What’s wrong with Red Hood? He’s amazing” You grinned, scrolling through more clips, shamelessly gushing about how cool and badass Red Hood was.

Damian scoffed and threw himself back onto his bed, arms folded across his chest, a scowl on his face. “He’s reckless. Uncontrolled. And he’s basically a criminal, for God’s sake.”

You shrugged, still not seeing the issue. “He’s just—he’s different. I mean, who else is out there giving Gotham the middle finger and still getting the job done? He’s like... a darker Batman. That’s so cool.”

Damian, clearly bothered by the way you were swooning over his older brother, gritted his teeth. “Robin is cooler. He’s disciplined, strategic. And he doesn’t go around causing chaos like Red Hood.”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Are you… Are you a Robin fanboy or something?” You couldn’t help the teasing tone that slipped into your voice.

Damian flushed, but it was hard to tell if it was out of annoyance or embarrassment. He scoffed, turning away from you. “I’m not a fanboy. I’m just saying Robin is superior. His methods are better. More effective.”

Before you could respond with something snarky, there was a knock on the door. “Dinner time!” Duke’s voice filtered in from the hallway.

You sighed and set your phone aside, standing up. “Guess we can argue about this later.” You shot Damian a playful smile, then made your way down the hallway to the dining room, your heart still racing from your silly teasing.

Downstairs, the atmosphere was warm, and the table was full. Tim, Dick, Jason, and Stephanie were all gathered around, chatting and eating. Damian followed you in, still sulking a little, and sat down, glaring daggers at anyone who looked at him. Very much leaving everyone confused.

It wasn’t long before you casually brought up the subject again. “So, Damian hates Red Hood. Isn’t that weird? I mean, the guy’s a huge badass, and he can’t stand him.”

Duke, who was sitting next to you, raised an eyebrow. “Why does he hate him so much?”

You smirked. “Because he’s jealous,” you teased, leaning into the statement. “He knows I love Red Hood. You know, I think it’s funny that he gets all jealous about it.”

Tim almost choked on his food as he tried not to laugh, his face turning red. Dick just looked at Damian with an amused smile. Even Jason seemed to lean into the whole thing. “I mean, Red Hood is way cooler than Robin anyway,” Jason said with a smirk as if the words were the most natural thing in the world.

Damian’s face turned into a perfect storm cloud, eyes rolling back as he muttered under his breath. “Ridiculous.”

“Hey,” Jason said, leaning forward. “I’m just saying, Red Hood’s got the whole ‘gritty anti-hero’ vibe going on. The whole ‘I don’t follow rules, I make my own’ thing? Much cooler than Robin’s boy scout routine.”

Damian let out a loud exhale, slouching in his chair as if the conversation was physically exhausting him. “You’re all insufferable.”

Dinner carried on, but the teasing didn’t stop. It was all in good fun, and it made the meal more entertaining for everyone else—except, of course, Damian, who barely touched his food. You were pretty sure he was planning out a murder plan for everyone there.

-

A few weeks later, things hadn’t changed much. You were on your way to school with Damian, and Alfred behind the wheel of the car, driving through the streets of Gotham. Damian had been going off for what felt like hours about how "unusual" you were for being so obsessed with Red Hood.

“Do you even know how many teens have crushes on Robin?” he asked, voice dripping with frustration as he stared out the window. “Why can’t you be normal and like him?”

You turned to him with an innocent look. “I mean, I do think Robin’s cool, but Red Hood? Way more interesting. You know, with the whole redemption arc and the fact that he’s just—” You shrugged. “I dunno, cooler?”

Damian looked like he was about to say something, but Alfred chuckled softly from the front. “Master Damian, I don’t believe normal is quite in your vocabulary, is it?” His voice was playful, though he clearly wasn’t trying to get involved in the sibling squabble.

Damian shot a glare at Alfred, but the older man just smiled and mindfully kept his eyes on the road.

You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him a little more. “Besides, I’m way more into Red Hood than Robin. I’d never choose between you and Red Hood, though. I mean, we both know who I’d choose.” You gave Damian a nudge, knowing it would get under his skin.

-

Later that afternoon, you found yourself back at Wayne Manor, idly chatting with Duke while Damian was nowhere to be found. You made your way up the stairs and just as you stepped into his room, the door slammed closed with Damian standing in front of you, wearing Robins's signature hood and mask.

You blinked, a little confused. “Uh... what’s going on?”

Damian froze, caught off guard for a split second before the mask came off, revealing the smirk on his face. “Surprised?”

It only took you a moment before the realization hit you like a freight train. “Wait... are you—” You gestured at his outfit, the familiarity of it dawning on you.

Damian’s eyes narrowed, but you interrupted him with a smile. “Robin?”

Damian’s face twisted into a slightly amused but still annoyed expression. “Obviously.”

You were silent for a moment, your brain catching up. “So... Robin is you?”

Damian just stared at you, his expression unreadable for a split second before he sighed. “Yes. But don’t get too excited. I'm the coolest, I know.”

You blinked and smirked. “Well, well. I still like Red Hood better, though.”

Damian groaned in frustration, but you added quickly, “But I like you more than him.”

Damian seemed flustered for just a moment before he huffed. “You’re impossible.”

And, despite all the teasing and arguments, you couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe Damian had a bit more in common with Red Hood than he was willing to admit after all.

-

Word spread quickly about Damian’s jealousy pushing him to reveal his secret identity to you, and before long, he became the target of relentless teasing. Even Bruce couldn't help but give him a few scolds for being so reckless.

[axeeglitter]

One way trip to Caracas

The flight from Paris to Caracas was long, but every second felt like a victory for Julien. At 32 years old, this was his first solo trip abroad, the culmination of years of hard work and saving every spare euro. His coworkers had teased him, saying it was too dangerous to travel to Venezuela alone, but Julien had brushed off their concerns. For him, this was not just a holiday; it was a statement of independence. No more predictable vacations with his family. No more dreaming of adventure while flipping through travel magazines. This was his time.

The sweltering heat hit him the moment he stepped out of the airport. Caracas was unlike anything he had ever seen. The towering buildings cast long shadows over streets bustling with life. Food vendors called out to passersby, the scent of arepas and empanadas mingling with the tropical humidity. The colors overwhelmed him: bright murals on crumbling walls, vibrant clothing, and the endless blue sky above.

Julien, with his average build and confident demeanor, stood out among the locals. His fair skin and European features marked him as a tourist immediately, but he didn’t mind. He had always prided himself on being adaptable, confident, and able to handle himself in any situation. After all, he’d spent years in the gym maintaining a body he was proud of. He wasn’t particularly muscular, but he was fit, a point of pride for someone who considered himself just an ordinary guy.

He had planned his trip meticulously. Days of hiking in the Andes, visits to Angel Falls, and, today, exploring the city and getting lost in its streets and markets.

The marketplace was everything Julien had hoped for and more. It was a chaotic symphony of sights and sounds: merchants shouting over each other, music blaring from hidden speakers, the clinking of coins exchanged for fresh produce, handmade crafts, and colorful trinkets. Julien wandered through the labyrinth of stalls, enchanted by the vibrant fabrics, carved wooden figurines, and the aroma of spices he couldn’t quite identify.

He stopped at a table displaying intricate jewelry. Bracelets made of woven leather, necklaces adorned with tiny beads, and rings of all shapes and sizes were laid out like treasures waiting to be discovered. The seller, an older woman with silver-streaked hair, smiled at him and began explaining each piece in rapid Spanish. Julien’s knowledge of the language was limited, but her enthusiasm was infectious.

As he examined a particularly striking silver bracelet, a group of teenagers loitered nearby, watching him. There were five of them, all around 18 to early 20s years old, dressed in a mix of modern streetwear and local flair. They whispered among themselves, smirking and occasionally glancing in his direction. Julien noticed them but didn’t think much of it. He assumed they were just curious about the foreigner in their midst.

“¿Cuánto cuesta?” Julien asked the vendor, pointing at the bracelet.

Before the woman could answer, one of the teenagers, probably the leader of the group,  stepped forward. He was tall and wiry, with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “Señor, let me help you,” the boy said in heavily accented English, grinning. “You don’t want that. It’s too expensive for you.”

Julien raised an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. “Thanks, but I can handle myself.”

The boy’s grin widened. “Of course. Just saying. You should look around more. Better deals everywhere.” He gestured vaguely at the surrounding stalls.

The other teenagers laughed softly, their eyes gleaming with mischief. Julien turned back to the vendor, brushing off the interaction. He had no idea that, while he was distracted, another member of the group had slipped close behind him.

As Julien continued haggling over the bracelet, a smaller boy with a quick, practiced motion slid something into the pocket of Julien’s cargo shorts. The boy rejoined his friends, who stifled their laughter as they watched the oblivious tourist.

Julien eventually purchased the bracelet from the lady while small talking with her a bit and then moved on, unaware of the extra weight in his pocket. He spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the market, sampling local snacks and taking photos. The teenagers followed him at a distance, always staying just out of sight, their laughter echoing faintly as Julien admired a stand of colorful ceramic bowls.

By the time Julien returned to his modest hotel room that evening, the events of the day had left him exhilarated and exhausted. He dumped his shopping bag on the bed and emptied his pockets, pulling out his phone, wallet, and… a ring? Frowning, he examined it. The metal was cold and oddly heavy, the symbols on its surface almost seeming to shift under the dim light of the room.

“Weird,” he muttered, setting it aside. He assumed he must have accidentally picked it up at the market, maybe it had fallen into his bag or pocket while the young men were talking to him. Julien tried the ring on his finger and it fit perfectly, it was hugging his skin without compressing him and it was a perfect touch that he could keep as a memory of his travel. Being happy to find this ring by accident and seeing how well fitted it felt, Julien got ready to go to bed, forgetting completely to take the ring off as he fell asleep on his bed.

The morning sun streamed through the thin curtains of Julien’s hotel room, casting a golden glow on the sparse furnishings. He groaned softly, his body heavy with the lingering fatigue of the previous day. Stretching, he rubbed his face, only to pause when his hand brushed against his jawline. The stubble he had carefully groomed just yesterday felt... thinner. Softer, almost.

He sat up, dismissing the thought as morning grogginess, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he stood, he felt an odd looseness in his pajama shorts. They slid slightly down his hips, which felt narrower than usual. Julien tugged them back up, frowning but attributing it to weight loss from the heat and all the walking he’d done.

In the bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and glanced into the mirror. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the reflection staring back at him. His skin, usually a pale European tone, had darkened slightly, as if the last days sun he took finally put a tan on his pale skin. His features looked subtly different, his nose a touch broader, his cheekbones sharper. It wasn’t drastic, but it was enough to make him pause and watch with attention how just a tan can make such a difference on his face and body.

“Must be the sun,” he muttered, running a hand through his short-cropped hair to style them after what he got himself ready for another hot day to explore Caracas and its streets.

But as the day wore on, Julien’s discomfort grew. Walking through the city streets, he noticed his stride felt different, as though his legs were subtly reshaping themselves. His calves felt leaner, his thighs slightly more muscular, but not in the way he was used to. There was a new tautness to his skin, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. His shirt clung awkwardly to his torso, which seemed slimmer than it had been in the morning.

By the afternoon, Julien’s reflection in shop windows was unmistakably altered. His once broad shoulders had softened slightly, tapering down to an athletic but less imposing frame. His arms, too, seemed leaner, the veins that usually stood out on his forearms now subdued beneath smoother, slightly darker skin.

The changes, at first painless, began to take on a strange intensity. As evening approached, Julien found himself stumbling as a sharp ache flared in his joints. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was persistent, like his body was being stretched and compressed at the same time. His face felt hot, as though feverish, and when he caught his reflection in a storefront window, he barely recognized himself. His jawline had softened, his lips fuller, and his eyes, a deep brown now instead of their usual golden hazel, stared back at him with an unfamiliar intensity.

Julien panicked seeing that he didn’t recognize himself anymore in his reflection. This was not the sun; this was something else. He needed help. Julien ran back at the hotel, paced the room, his heart pounding. He started to think and walk in his bed, trying to find an explication on the internet while looking for the emergency number; but now that he was alone with his thought and changing body, the feeling was growing stronger and stronger. Julien could feel his bones grinding each other as the transformation was not done yet. His skin tightening around his shrinking muscles, his vision blurring and coming back to normal, his body getting itchy. As he sat in the corner of the room, Julien felt a sharp painful sensation around his fingers, he tilted his head only to realize the ring he put on yesterday was still on, and worst, it was shining a faint golden hue. The ring. It had to be the ring. He grabbed it from his finger and tugged on it, trying to take it off. But it was not moving at all. Worst it felt like he was tearing off his own finger. It was stuck in place. As he was about to try once again going to the bathroom to put soap and water, he felt a jolt of energy course his body and coming from his finger. Julien screamed in pain as his voice felt rougher and higher at the same time. The wave of energy was running through his body and then it stopped and centralized around his feet. Julien turned his head and watched in horror as his feet started to compress and shrink right in front of his eyes. The symbols etched into the surface of the ring seemed to shimmer and shift, almost as if alive. Desperate, he tried to pull it off once again, only to find that it wouldn’t budge. The metal felt warm against his skin, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Julien screamed in panic once again as he felt the ring starting to warm once again, like if it was ready to release a new wave. Julien was terrified and just like he thought, the sensation of invasion in his body came back once again, only this time it went in the direction of his head. The last thing Julien saw before his vision blurred and was taken by darkness was the night falling in his dark room as a golden light was emitted from his left hand.

As night fell and Julien was still fainted on his bed, the transformation accelerated. Julien’s once well-groomed chest and arms were now smooth, devoid of the hair he had always taken pride in. Yet, paradoxically, his armpits and thighs had grown thick with dark, curly hair, the contrast both alarming and surreal. His body continued to slim down, shedding years as it reshaped itself into that of a teenager. His abdomen, while still toned, looked less defined, the muscle structure softer and more natural.

The pain became unbearable by midnight. Julien curled up on the bed, clutching his stomach as spasms wracked his unconscious body. His bones felt like they were grinding against each other, his muscles tightening and releasing in unnatural patterns as tears streamed down his fainted face.

By dawn, the transformation was nearly complete. Julien’s once angular features were now softer, more youthful, with a golden-brown complexion that glowed in the bright morning light. Julien opened his eyes and turned his head around, taking the light in his warm brown eyes as his pupils contracted to accommodate to it. He turned his head to the left to look at the clock, forgetting what happened yesterday, but as he saw his tanned hand in front of him, everything came back to him. The ring, the changes, his body. Julien jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, his body, lean and athletic, moved with an ease and agility he hadn’t felt in years. There, in the mirror reflection, Julien saw his face and body. He looked like a local Venezuelan teenager, no older than 18. The realization hit him like a blow. Julien gasped in surprise and fear only to hear his deep voice being way higher and younger than what he was used to.

He couldn’t be stuck like this; he had a flight back in 2 days. How could he take the plane, his passport wasn’t even looking like himself anymore! As he kept on walking around the room, trying to find a solution, the light of the morning sun shine through his curtain and fell on his ringed finger, which illuminated his mirror reflection in golden hue. “The market!” he thought “I have to find the lady in the market, that’s her ring, I’m sure she’ll be able to help me out!” He grabbed a pair of flip flops, the only things that his feet were able to put on without loosing them, put on a pair of shorts and a shirt that was way too big for his body and then ran to the market with hope in his chocolate eyes. 

By the time Julien reached the bustling market, the sun was high in the sky, its heat beating down relentlessly and little to no sweat dripping down from his forehead. He maneuvered through the crowded streets, his heart thudding in his chest and the ring. Everything about the market felt more chaotic than it had the day before, the colors, the sounds, the voices speaking in rapid Spanish that he inexplicably understood with greater clarity now. He tugged at the sleeves of his loose shirt; his movements awkward as he tried to mask the unfamiliar changes in his body.

He reached the vendor’s stall from the day before and froze. The elderly woman wasn’t there. Her table was empty, the trinkets and jewelry nowhere in sight. His stomach churned as he turned in circles, scanning the crowd for her hunched figure. “She must be somewhere, she has to! I don’t know wha…”

“Señor turista!” interrupted a young men’s voice.

It made Julien’s blood run cold. He turned slowly, not knowing who to to expect or even if it was for him.

There, standing in front of him with a smirk on his face, a familiar young man with other ones stood a few meters away from him, their cocky smiles and sharp eyes fixed on him. The leader, a tall, wiry boy with dark, calculating eyes, stepped forward, his head tilting with mock curiosity.

“You look like you need help. You lost or something?” the leader asked kindly, switching easily between Spanish and English, his grin widening. “Come with me, we’ll help you find her. It’s not the first time this bruja does something like that.”

Julien’s breath quickened, but he forced himself to stand his ground. “Can you? That would be awesome. I’m terrified, I don’t even recognize myself, and everything feels so vivid and different.” he said, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound firm. “Do you know where she is? I have to turn back. I don’t want … this” he said pointing at his regressed body.

The leader’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it sharpened. “Sure, don’t worry. That’s why I tried to help you the other day when you bought this bracelet. But you didn’t listen. It’s ok, we can help you don’t worry. Just follow us, her shop is a few streets away.” Julien felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders and he laughed a bit out of anxiety. He’ll be able to go back home. As Julien followed the men and his group outside of the market, he didn’t realize the streets were getting less crowded. The houses getting closer from each other and the sun was having trouble piercing through the closed roofs surrounding them. “So, not to be uneducated or anything, but how long do you think we’ll have to walk? You said it was close and we’ve been walking for almost 25 minutes. I’m just wondering if… Hey! Stop that!” Julien was interrupted in his sentence. Two of the men he was following grabbed him by the arms. He tried to break free but they were way too strong for him to do anything in this twink body he was now inhabiting. In a quick move, Julien’s feet were not touching the ground anymore and as he kept on screaming for help, a door opened behind them, leading in a poorly decorated house with only a well-used black leather couch. They threw Julien on the couch and his head punched the wall behind him, making him dizzy for a minute. When his ideas were cleared, he jumped back on his feet only to realize the whole gang was surrounding him and he had nowhere to escape.

“Let me through,” he said, his voice louder now, his nerves beginning to fray.

“Why would we do that?” one of the boys sneered. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The leader stepped closer, his gaze locking on Julien’s terrified face. “You still don’t understand, don’t you? There is no escape for you, not anymore.”

Julien instinctively covered his hand, but the leader’s smirk deepened. “It’s too late to hide it now,” he said. “You’re already marked.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julien said, though his voice betrayed his growing panic. He tried to push past them, but hands grabbed his arms, his shoulders, his shirt, forcing him backward against the couch.

“You don’t get it, do you?” the leader said, leaning in close. “The lady is not the problem. She was just someone selling her craft trying to get money. She won’t help you, or turn you back!” “But you said…” Julien answered with tears in his throat. “I say a lot of things Julien. Here, it’s either eat or be eaten. And I won’t get eaten by society, not today, not tomorrow. See we needed someone like you. And you are perfect I have to say, or rather were. Your innocent face, your pale skin, your basic body. Yea you really were perfect. And you were alone, Jackpot!” continued the men as al his friends were still blocking Julien from running away. “Now listen, from now on, you work for me. And if you try to say anything out of character, well, let’s say you won’t be saying anything else.” “I’m sorry. I have money, I can pay you. Just turn me back and I’ll give you whatever you want. Please.” Answered Julien with tears rolling down his tanned cheeks. “What did I just say? Nothing out of character. Looks like you broke the first rule, isn’t that right Mateo?” said the men with a cocky smile creeping on his lips.

Julien froze. “Mateo?” he echoed, confused.

The leader laughed darkly. “I told you, Mateo. I won’t accept any side steps from my men.”

“Please I’m sorry. I…,” Julien hissed, trying to wrench free, but the gang’s grabbed him back as he tried to get up from the couch only to be pushed back and forced to sit. Julien froze as he was forced there on the couch. The leader took a step in his direction and then looked at his friends next to him. He smiled and then Julien saw the two men laughing and smirking as they approached his paralyzed body. Soon, the men grabbed Julien’s clothes until he was star naked. His new athletic tanned and musky body sitting there for everybody to look at him. Julien felt humiliated and hated every second of it, but he couldn’t escape from their grip, he was trapped. “I’ll pay you, just let me go. I won’t talk to anyone. Please!” said one more time Julien, trying to argue with the leader standing in front of him.

The leader didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the ring and pulled. Julien gasped as a sharp, burning sensation shot through his finger, as though the ring had fused to his skin. For a moment, it resisted, but then it slipped free, leaving behind a faint red mark on his tanned finger. Julien screamed as felt a part of himself getting ripped with the ring. His head started to spin as everything was starting to merge together before being broken and reformed again. Sweat started to poor down from his skin, his armpits sweating abundantly. Tears of sweat were rolling down his forehead and blurred his vision as he felt like his head was about to explode. He then felt an alien sensation invading his cock. It was like it was burning and itching t the same time. Julien opened his brown eyes only to realize in his blurred vision that his cock was now changing to something totally different. It started to shrink and compress on itself. Veins popping on the lengths as sensitivity started to grow higher and higher. Then burning appeared at the base, Julien’s mouth opened, trying to ask for mercy, as he felt a new forest of curly dark pubes starting to grow. Then his new smaller but thicker dick started to beat with the rhythm of his younger heart, his body getting overdosed by hormones as he couldn’t control himself, his hips wanted to move, to thrust, but the men were still holding him down. Without being able to control himself, a thick pearl of precum was ejected from his new tanner cock head, the first of many. Then all of a sudden, everything stopped. Julien opened his eyes again and everything was calmed, the men still in front of him was smirking with the ring in his hand, shining in a heartbeat rhythm before shutting off in a faint glow that soon stopped too.

“¿Qué me están haciendo? ¿Qué está pasando?”

The gang burst into laughter, their mocking voices echoing off the alley walls. Julien’s panic spiked as he realized he couldn’t remember how to speak English. Worse, his own name felt foreign to him, slipping from his mind entirely.

“As I said, your name is Mateo now,” the leader said, his grin cruel. “And you’re mine.”

“No... no puede ser,” Julien, no, Mateo whispered, his younger voice trembling.

The leader crouched down in front of him, his expression softening into something almost sympathetic. “You going to bring me a lot of money” he said. “My clients will adore you, that’s for sure.”

Julien shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “Esto no está bien,” he murmured, but the conviction in his voice was fading, drowned out by the growing fog in his mind.

The gang’s laughter grew louder as they released their grips on him. Julien’s resistance ebbed, his will crumbling under the weight of the changes overtaking him. As he tried to get up begging one last time for help, the leader snapped his fingers. Julien’s head spanned and he started to blink in confusion, his erected dick starting to spasm and eject more and more precum. In front of him, the leader called one of his loyal friend and gave him the bronze ring. As Julien looked at him, his vision blurred by pleasure and confusion, he saw the young men putting the ring on and in a couple of second, he saw his old reflection standing naked in front of him. His old body standing there at attention and waiting for the leader’s orders. “Que …. No es…” Julien managed to say as his cock was spasming more and more, pleasure invading his young naked sweaty and musky body. The leader just turned his head and smirked. “Cum par mi, puta!” Julien felt the orgasm rising as he couldn’t control himself anymore and suddenly cum fired out of his cock. It felt like he finally could breath again. Julien closed his eyes and when he opened them again, a smirk appeared on his younger face. “Bienvenido, Mateo” said the leader with a smile on his face as he threw a grey used jockstrap to Mateo. “Hola Boss!” answered Mateo as Julien was gone for good, drying on the cement floor.

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys!

Here is the story I wrote for @misctf. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As always, my DMs are open, so feel free to send me a message if you have any ideas you'd like me to write about.

Also, we're getting close to 1,000, so be ready, I’m planning a special event for you once we reach that milestone!

Thank you so much, guys! See you soon!

[dilfismz]

Hi! Can you write jealous professor dom!cho sangwoo x student sub!reader. Can you make sangwoo become real mad and some spanking too? Thank you so so much 🥹🥹

Mine

Summary: Turns out Professor Cho doesn’t like it when stupid young boys touch what’s his.

A/N: there are a few flashback scenes in order to build a backstory so don’t be confused!

Warnings: age gap, inappropriate teacher/student relationship, spanking, some degradation?, p in v, no prep (Sangwoo is desperate), dom/sub dynamics, and hair pulling.

In all honesty, you and Professor Cho had become close by complete accident. If you could even call it close…more so acquainted. You could recall every detail of your night spent together as if it had just occurred. Every single time you step foot into his lecture hall you can’t help but reminisce.

⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆

The bar was quiet that night, many students in their dorms studying for finals. Luckily for you, yours had concluded in one long, godforsaken day. It was tough but the reward was getting to celebrate the end of the semester early.

Sliding into a seat with your friend you spot him. He was seated a few spots down, leaning casually against the bar. He looked out of place in his crisp, tailored shirt and sharp jawline—older than most of the patrons and far more composed. His presence seemed to draw attention without trying, though he didn’t seem interested in anyone else around him.

You weren’t sure why you caught his eye, but you did. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he spoke, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

“Not a regular here, are you?”

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. “Does it show?”

“Just a little,” he said, taking a sip from his glass. “You seem…young for this crowd.”

The comment made your cheeks flush slightly, but you held his gaze. “Maybe. But you don’t exactly blend in yourself.”

He chuckled, low and warm, and moved to sit closer. “Fair enough. I’m Sangwoo.”

You gave your name, and from there, the conversation flowed with surprising ease. You told him about your studies, your aspirations, and the stress that had driven you here tonight. He listened intently, asking thoughtful questions that felt more probing than casual small talk.

“I have to say,” he murmured at one point, leaning in just slightly, “I don’t usually find myself talking like this with someone… your age.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. “Maybe age doesn’t matter as much as you think.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Maybe.”

The air between you shifted, heavy and undeniable. When he suggested leaving, you didn’t hesitate.

The night blurred into stolen kisses in the cab, whispered words, and the heat of his hands on your skin. You fell into his bed with reckless abandon, the difference in your years forgotten in the haze of passion.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, forcing your eyes open. The unfamiliar room was quiet, save for the soft sound of breathing beside you.

You turned your head to see Sangwoo lying on his back, his arm resting over his eyes. The sharp lines of his face were softened by the light, but there was a tension in his expression that hadn’t been there the night before.

“Good morning,” you said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

He let out a soft sigh, finally lowering his arm to look at you. His eyes were darker now, clouded with something that felt like regret.

“This… probably shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice low.

The words stung, even though you’d expected them. “Why not?”

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “You’re young. Too young to be tangled up with someone like me.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was a firmness to it that made your stomach twist.

You sat up too, pulling the sheet around you. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

“That was a mistake,” he said, glancing at you briefly before looking away. “I should’ve known better.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the warmth of the night before replaced with a cold, sinking feeling. You wanted to say something, to argue that you were old enough to make your own decisions, but the look on his face stopped you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, standing and reaching for his shirt. “You’re… incredible. But this can’t happen again.”

As he moved about the room, dressing and avoiding your gaze, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever been more than a fleeting distraction to him.

⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆

Another thing you always thought of when you’d step into Professor Cho’s room is the moment you’d realized just how disastrous your night together actually was.

The first day of the new semester carried the usual energy—a mix of fresh starts and quiet dread. Students milled into the lecture hall, some chatting excitedly, others scrolling through their phones or sipping lukewarm coffee. You were somewhere in the middle, adjusting the strap of your bag as you stepped into the massive room.

You hadn’t given much thought to your schedule beyond the requirements you needed to fill. This class—some upper-level finance course you had reluctantly signed up for—was just another stepping stone toward your degree. You were more concerned with surviving the workload than anything else.

That was, until you looked up.

Your heart nearly stopped.

There, standing at the podium, flipping through a stack of papers with an air of quiet authority, was him.

Cho Sangwoo.

Your throat went dry.

For a second, you thought you had to be mistaken. But there was no mistaking him—not the sharp jawline, not the dark, intelligent eyes that had lingered on you once in the glow of a streetlamp, not the hands you could still feel on your skin if you let your mind wander too far.

You froze mid-step, the chatter of the other students fading into white noise. The last time you’d seen him, he had been pulling his shirt over his head in a dimly lit bedroom, his words clipped, his expression guarded.

“This can’t happen again.”

And yet, here you were.

And here he was.

As if sensing your gaze, Sangwoo glanced up from his notes.

The reaction was instant.

His confident posture faltered, his fingers tightening slightly around the edges of his papers. His brows lifted just barely before his eyes widened in unmistakable shock. You saw the exact moment recognition hit him, watched the composed, professional mask he undoubtedly wore every day crack—just for a second.

A blush rose to his face.

It was slight, barely there, but enough for you to notice. Enough for you to know that despite his careful words that morning, despite whatever lines he had drawn in his mind between you, the sight of you standing in his lecture hall had caught him completely off guard.

The confident, articulate professor—who had surely done this a thousand times, who commanded rooms full of students without hesitation—had lost his composure.

Your stomach twisted.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like you were back in that dimly lit bar, your bodies too close, your words laced with the kind of reckless flirtation that had led to this. The memory burned through you so suddenly that you were sure it showed on your face.

But then, just as quickly as the moment had come, you watched him shove it back down.

Sangwoo cleared his throat sharply, turning his attention back to his papers. The color in his face faded as he schooled his expression into something unreadable, his professional demeanor snapping back into place like a steel trap.

But you had seen it.

You had felt it.

And now, you had to sit through an entire semester pretending it had never happened.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to move, slipping into a seat near the middle of the lecture hall. Around you, students continued their chatter, completely unaware of the silent war raging inside your head—or his.

Sangwoo took a breath, straightened his tie, and finally spoke. His voice was steady, controlled.

“Good morning. Welcome to Financial Strategies.”

If you hadn’t seen the way his hands curled slightly against the podium, you might have believed he was completely unaffected.

But you had seen it.

And you weren’t sure either of you would be able to ignore it.

That day, after class ended you sat frozen in your seat, your fingers gripping the edge of your desk as if that could steady the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

Sangwoo hadn’t looked at you once throughout the entire lecture.

Not directly, at least.

Instead, his eyes had skimmed over you like you were just another student, his voice measured, his posture rigid. But there were moments—fleeting, barely-there moments—where his fingers tensed slightly on the podium, where his breath hitched in the smallest, most imperceptible way before he forced himself forward.

And now, as you remained seated while the rest of the students shuffled out, he still wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Stay after,” he had said near the end of class, his voice neutral, yet somehow sharp.

You knew this conversation was coming. There was no avoiding it.

Sangwoo stood by his desk now, organizing papers that didn’t need organizing, straightening his laptop screen only to close it again. It was almost frustrating—watching him fidget with anything but you.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose, as if bracing himself.

“If you wish to remain in this class,” he started, his voice clipped, “you will forget about what happened between us.”

You swallowed, gripping your bag strap tightly, but said nothing.

He continued, his expression carefully blank, though you could see the tension in his jaw. “It was… inappropriate. A mistake.” His fingers curled around the edge of his desk, the only sign that his control wasn’t as steady as he wanted it to be. “And it cannot affect your education.”

Your throat felt tight.

He was speaking to you as though that night had been some careless accident, as though it hadn’t been charged with something real. And yet, even as he spoke, his voice was too deliberate, too forced, like he was convincing himself as much as he was convincing you.

But you didn’t miss the way his fingers twitched slightly against the desk.

Your gaze dropped to his hands—the same slender hands that had once roamed your body, tracing paths of fire along your skin.

You could still feel them if you thought about it long enough. The way they had tangled in your hair, how his fingertips had brushed over your bare waist with aching slowness, how they had tightened possessively around your wrist just before he kissed you—

“Are you listening?”

Your head snapped up.

Sangwoo was watching you now, his brow furrowed slightly, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

You nodded, trying to ignore the heat rising in your face.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before crossing his arms. “Good,” he muttered. “Because I can’t have distractions in my classroom. Whatever… that was, it’s over. Understood?”

His words were cruelly impersonal, but his body language betrayed him. The stiffness of his shoulders, the way he seemed almost restless standing still, as if part of him wanted to move, to do something else.

You wondered if he was remembering it, too.

The weight of him pressing you into the mattress. The way he had looked at you, his usual self-control slipping with every kiss, every touch.

You sat up a little straighter, ignoring the pang in your chest. “Understood,” you said quietly, though the words felt like a lie.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

His fingers tapped once against the desk. Then again.

Then, as if snapping himself out of something, he turned away, collecting his things with more force than necessary. “You’re dismissed,” he said, not looking at you.

You hesitated.

But there was nothing left to say.

So you grabbed your bag and walked toward the door, feeling his eyes on your back even though he had told himself not to look.

————-

Now here you are today and you have done exactly what Sangwoo asked.

For months, you kept your distance, pretending as though nothing had ever happened between you. No lingering glances, no hesitation when he called on you in class, no trace of the night you had spent tangled in his sheets. You became cold, detached—indifferent.

And it was driving him insane.

At first, he convinced himself that this was what he wanted. That this was the right thing.

But then Jisoo happened.

A boy your age. Bright-eyed, eager, always quick with a joke that made you laugh—actually laugh. You had never laughed like that in his class before. Not when you were with him.

Sangwoo ignored it at first.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Soft whispers shared between the two of you, your heads leaning close as if nothing else in the room existed. His blood simmered every time Jisoo touched your arm, every time he caught you smiling at him—every time he saw you looking at Jisoo the way you used to look at him.

But today was the worst of it.

Today, Jisoo had whispered something in your ear, and your face had gone warm—cheeks flushed, lips parting just slightly in surprise before you giggled.

Sangwoo gripped his pen so hard it nearly snapped.

The moment class ended, his voice cut through the murmurs of students packing up their things.

“Stay after.”

Jisoo glanced at you, curious. You barely reacted, nodding as you finished gathering your notes.

The last student filtered out.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Sangwoo remained standing at the front of the classroom, bracing his hands against the desk, his head tilted downward. You could see the tension in him—the way his fingers curled, the way his breaths left him in slow, controlled exhales.

You knew this was coming.

You waited.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Tell me,” his voice was low, measured. “Do you plan to seduce him the way you seduced me?”

Your heart stuttered.

The accusation hung heavy between you, thickening the air, making it harder to breathe.

“What?”

Sangwoo lifted his gaze, and for the first time in months, his carefully constructed mask had cracked.

No indifference. No feigned professionalism. Only raw frustration—barely-restrained jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

He took a step forward, slow and deliberate.

“You heard me,” he murmured, his voice dark. “Is that your plan? To make him desperate for you? To make him think, even for a second, that he can satisfy you the way I did?”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “That’s not—”

He scoffed. “Not what?” Another step forward. “Not true? You don’t think I see the way he looks at you? The way you let him lean into you, whisper in your ear?”

His jaw clenched.

“Do you think he can touch you like I did?” His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. “Think he can even attempt to please you?”

Your breath hitched.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, knuckles whitening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you forced out.

His lips quirked up—not in amusement, but something far crueler.

“Liar.”

Your stomach flipped.

You hated how easily he unraveled you.

Sangwoo exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t care,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I told myself I wouldn’t.”

You swallowed hard.

“But then I see you with him,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I see you laughing, smiling, and I—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply as if disgusted by the confession sitting on his tongue.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“You’ve been punishing me,” he murmured. “All these months, Ive been trying to forget, trying to pretend it never happened—but it did. And here you are pulling this shit right in front of me.”

His fingers twitched.

“And it still matters to you…”, you intended to ask but it came out more like a statement.

Sangwoo inhaled sharply, and before you could react, his hand shot out—grasping your wrist.

Your breath caught.

His fingers, long and slender, wrapped around your skin. Not tight. Not pulling. Just holding.

A mistake.

A reckless, dangerous mistake.

But neither of you moved to stop it.

“You don’t get it,” he murmured, his voice lower, almost pained. “I broke the rules for you once.”

Your throat went dry.

His fingers slid down, tracing your palm before hesitantly releasing you.

Then, barely above a whisper—so quiet you almost missed it—he admitted:

“I think I’d break them again.”

Your stomach clenched.

Sangwoo exhaled slowly, looking at you as if he were already regretting saying it out loud. But it was there now. It couldn’t be unsaid.

For the first time in months, he wasn’t telling you to forget.

He wasn’t telling you to leave.

Instead, his voice was quiet. Measured. Unsteady.

“Stay, it’s your turn to be punished.”

You take a tentative step in his direction, testing the waters. Sangwoo blinks slowly, looking you up and down, “You stay there”, he commands while walking to the lecture hall door. He locks it with a flick of his wrist and returns.

He sits on his chair behind the large desk he often spends hours sitting at. He spreads his thighs, patting them expectantly.

You take this as a sign to straddle him but he immediately grunts in dissatisfaction. “No, bend over my knees, face down ass up”.

You flush at the command, all self respect fleeing your body as you comply without a second thought.

Tch tch

He clicks his tongue mockingly, all while lifting your skirt up to expose your plump ass, barely covered by a tiny thong.

“Now did you wear this for me or him”, Sangwoo asks, a scowl etched onto his features.

“You Sangwoo, always for you-”, before you could finish your sentence a loud smack echoes throughout the lecture room. Before you can even register the pain another red hot slap lands on your bottom, leaving you breathless.

“It’s sir”, he commands, a shit eating grin already overtaking his features.

“Y-yes sir”, you respond.

“Good fucking slut, finally you do something right. Maybe I should’ve done this right away, then we never would have had that silly little problem huh?”

You simply nod, his words going in one ear and out the other. Sangwoo pulls your hair harshly, forcing your head back to look at him.

“Speak when you’re spoken to”, he commands, his other hand landing another firm slap to your stinging ass.

“Yes sir-“, you moan as he kneeds the sensitive flesh, “-wish you would’ve done this sooner.”

He nods in approval, forcing you off of his legs and pushing you against his desk.

You can hear him unbuckle his belt and all but shake with anticipation. You’ve waited oh so long to feel him again.

Suddenly his swollen tip is prodding at your entrance, your thong pulled to the side. Sangwoo lets out a heavy sigh and declares, “I’ve waited way too damn long to do this again…now tell me have you been whoring around campus or is the last time your pussy got stretched with me?”

“Y-you sir, haven’t done anything since that night”, you splutter out, backing up into him, hoping he’ll just push in already.

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear”, he says right before completely bottoming out in one harsh thrust.

Sangwoo doesn’t start out gentle, he keeps thrusting into you slowly but oh so roughly. You swear you can feel him reaching spots even he didn’t hit last time.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as his hands grip your hips with a bruising force. He scoffs at your desperate mewls, “I won’t last long sweetheart so you’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful, ya?”

“Yes sir”

Sangwoo can feel his glasses slipping down his nose as his pace quickens. The entire room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and its filthy.

“Please don’t stop sir I’m close”, you beg as you feel that all too familiar feeling within you.

He doesn’t stop. His hands gripping you even tighter as he grits his teeth, cock twitching as your gummy walls suck him in.

“Fuck, it’s like this pussy was made for me, can’t believe I stayed away for so long”, he gasps out.

That’s all the praise you needed to reach your peak. Your walls spasm around Sangwoo and he continues his assault on your insides, coming to an abrupt stop as you feel his warm seed fill you up.

The both of you are a panting mess and he runs his hands through his own hair, pushing him glasses back up his nose.

When Sangwoo finally pulls out he sighs and looks at your pathetic form in front of him.

“Clean yourself up and we’ll have a serious conversation about how this arrangement is gonna work.”

[yuyusshinelight]

Dad thoughts feat ATEEZ: I want a brother/sister

♪ This post is about how I think they would be as parents; just that, some thoughts. This does NOT represent any of Ateez's members in any way.

♪ English is not my first language so sorry if there's any mistake.

Vocabulary just in case someone doesn't know:

y/s/n — your son's name

y/d/n — your daughter's name

Byeol — star

Jagi — sweetheart, darling, etc...

Note: Hi my shining stars! Here I come with a new scenario for our boys being dads because I know how much you like those parenting headcanons. I hope you like it and enjoy your reading. Love you all!!!

SEONGHWA

Seonghwa and your daughter were peacefully building their Lego sets together when the older Park decided to have a conversation about that not too little issue you had commented to him when he had arrived at home "I have heard that you want a little sibling, byeol" and the little girl only nodded, not stopping her really important task of mistakenly making the base of the moon on which his half-finished Sanrio doll should lie "And can daddy know why you want a little brother or sister?".

Seonghwa was clearly trying to get your daughter to tell him the same thing you had told him that afternoon without asking her directly. The way you looked at the ground with a soft pout when you told him that your little star had been sad lately for being only child had him worried about the issue being more serious than he though at first.

"I don't like to be alone" At that confession Seonghwa's heart stopped. Perhaps you two had made her feel lonely without realizing it? "But you have mommy and daddy, my love".

"It's not the same... We can't stay together all the time" The sadness with which his beloved daughter said that felt like the most hurtful stab directly into his heart, it even made Seonghwa hate his work for a moment "Daddy and mommy would like to be with you all the time, baby, but—".

"But you can't, I know..." For how his baby had finished his sentence, Seonghwa couldn't help but feel worse, her small but heartbreaking pout could be perfectly appreciated in her sweet voice.

Something in his head snapped.

In the gentlest way he could, the man took his daughter from her seat to put her on his lap and give her that so needed hug he was craving for "Don't you worry, byeol, mommy and daddy will bring you a little brother or sister, okay?" The speed at which her head turned to look him directly in the eyes even scared the poor man with the possibility of a sudden dizziness or some blow to his little girl from such an action but all his worries erased as fast as your daughter moved her head seconds before thanks to the way in which her eyes shone brighter than ever, holding the galaxy itself in those small orbs exactly like his own "Really? It's a promise?".

The excitement on the little girl's face brought out the most tender and sincere smile from Seonghwa who didn't last long to rub his nose against hers, showering her soft cheeks with many kisses "It's a promise, my byeol".

And maybe he should have talked about the sibling thing with you before promising it to your daughter but, let's not lie, Seonghwa knew you better than yourself; the moment he said yes to his daughter he was already counting on you to be more than okay with having a second child. In fact, you were the one who laid Seonghwa on your shared bed after making sure that your child was peacefully asleep on her own to ride him like never before until he decided to change positions to bury himself even deeper inside you. It wasn't in his plans to break the promise he made to his little star so he fucked you until he left your belly nicely swollen with his seed.

Neither of you could deny anything to your little four-year-old walking smile.

HONGJOONG

"I want a little sister" said your three-year-old son as he perched himself in his father's work chair, a phrase that made Hongjoong drop whatever he was with that same moment and look at the kid "What? Why all of a sudden?".

"My best friend just had one and she's very cute" The way in which his baby waddled slowly without letting go of the chair, with that rascally face inherited from him himself, looking at him expectantly for an affirmative answer, brought out of Hongjoong his most genuine smile "Well, yes. Babies are really cute" he said, ruffling his hair before picking him up and sitting the child on his lap "but that's not a reason to have one, love".

For how the minor gasped dramatically while frowning, there was no doubt that that response had even offended him. This little boy's reactions were so comically unique that Hongjoong's stomach even hurt from laughing on many occasions.

"But I want one!" The child said as if it was the most prevalent reason to have a baby, and Hongjoong was about to talk but the appearance of his favorite girl stopped him "I think I have something to say in all this no?" You said, entering the room until you were standing next to your husband, something that didn't last long because said husband didn't like the idea of not having you closer so he sat you on his free leg; and it's not like you were going to complain, in fact, you hugged him "It's my belly the one that's going to hold that little sister for nine months".

"How?" As soon as he asked, both parents' eyes widened. You should have assumed he would ask, but hey, it's not like you mind talking about it, not like Hongjoong apparently "How what, baby?" He acted dumb, clearly not wanting to have that conversation now, too young his son to talk about anything of that "How will the baby get into mommy's tummy?" But this little curious boy wasn't about to leave the topic for Hongjoong's misfortune, who even let out an accidental "Oh shit".

It had to be said that Hongjoong didn't expect that he should have to answer this question at this point of his short life as a father, nor did he expect that too adorable "Oh shit" from the kid either. Word that clearly set off your alarms as a mother "No, baby. Don't say that" You corrected him, booping his nose and waiting for the child to ask why he couldn't say it if his dad could but you were surprised with that too cute "Okay mommy".

Both you and Hongjoong were about to die of love.

"That's my good boy" Hongjoong said, ruffling his hair one more time and giving him a kiss on the head "So are you going to bring me a little sister yes or not?" You both looked at each other, not knowing exactly what to say, until Hongjoong decided to leave the answer hanging in the air "We'll see" to which your son answered with an unfortunate unexpected "Fuck".

"HONGJOONG" Was the first thing that crossed your mind, yelling at the surprised man that was now looking at you "I DIDN'T EVEN SAY THAT" But then he stopped, thinking for a moment "Well maybe he has learned it from me, yes..." And your son nodding only made you look even worse at your husband "Don't say that either, okay baby?" And with that your baby boy covered his mouth with his two little hands and nod one more time, making you both laugh.

YUNHO

It was a peaceful night at Jeong's residence until your eldest son ended with said peace after all those failed attempts to play with his little sister who was only dedicated to watch him move while eating her tiny fist so calmly in her baby-hammock.

"I want another brother or sister!" Your son screamed, running towards his father's open legs to hide his head in his crotch and hold on to his legs. Sudden blow to his private parts that made Yunho complain and you chuckled softly under your breath so as not to be discovered by your husband who was already looking at you with half-closed eyes and shaking his head despite being laughing too.

"Why do you say that, baby?" You asked after you managed to calm your laughter "Because Y/D/N never plays with me!" Your son screamed again, readjusting his posture while firming his grip without separating an inch from his father "It's that?" Yunho asked between laughs, stroking his little head after hearing his son complain in a sort of shouted sob "I mean, if you want another sibling daddy will give you one".

"Tch, Yunho" His first name, not jagi. Bad moment to put on display his pleaser nature, man "But you have to ask mommy too" And you nodded, he was safe "So... you want another sibling to play with because your sister can't, baby?" And your son nodded without taking his head off his father's body "But you have to know that if we give you a new brother or sister, they couldn't play with you either" And that's the moment your son lifted his head, looking at you directly with a mix of horror and surprise, as if what you had said was the strangest thing ever "Why?".

"Because they would be even smaller than Y/D/N".

"More?!" He was silent for a moment after both Yunho and you nodded, seeming to be reconsidering what you had just revealed to him, when he suddenly separated from Yunho completely, crossing his arms and giving you both his back angrily "I don't want another sibling then".

"Oh no, my third baby" Jeong senior said dramatically, he even put his hands on his chest where his heart was pretending to be hurt "Yunho" you said in a warning tone, taking your son in your arms to hug him, accommodating you two in the couch under the warmth of your favorite blanket "Oh, come on. Three kids sounds nice, don't you think?".

"Y/D/N is only seven months old, let me enjoy life without kicks that burst my ribs a little longer" You couldn't see it because you were too busy kissing your son but you already knew that Yunho was smiling for how happy he sounded saying "A little longer? Is that a yes to a third baby?" Which only confirmed to you that Yunho was indeed looking forward to having a third. And one thing you were never good at since you started dating him was saying no to him when he looked so adorably excited about something "It's a 'maybe when my ribs return to their natural position because your daughter opened them for kicking them so many times' ".

"We're having a third" Yunho said victoriously with that goofy smile that you fell in love with at first sight and that, to this day, was still one of your many weak points.

YEOSANG

"Daddy" your daughter said in the softest voice you could have ever heard in your life. You couldn't see her because you were at the laundry room while your husband and daughter were doing an afternoon snack but you could even swear that she was playing with her little fingers nervously for the tone she used. That was one of her gestures when she was about to ask for something "Tell me, darling" Yeosang sounded as cute as your daughter which made you smile foolishly, nothing could please you more than the fact that the two loves of your life were so much alike "Can I have a sibling, please?".

That question surely made you slow down the speed at which you were doing the laundry, as if that would help you to hear better. It was a topic Yeosang and you talked about a few months ago, both thinking that it would be nice to have a second child not only because you two think that having siblings is so beneficial for a kid, but because you both were attracted by the idea of expanding your family. Another living proof of your love for each other.

But those were your reasons to want another baby, what would your daughter's reasons be? You were curious about them. Just like Yeosang.

"Of course, darling. But can daddy know why you ask?" The tenderness with which your husband was handling this conversation, like every conversation he had with your daughter, was so heartwarming. You could die of a sweet high "I want a sibling to be my best friend forever" and your daughter was about to finish what her father had started.

Not being able to be a mere listener anymore, you put the small skirt you had in your hands back in the laundry basket to go out to the kitchen, finding the lovely picture of your daughter sitting at the counter next to your husband, helping him prepare a bowl of fruit for the three of you to enjoy together.

"Have you heard it, Y/N-ah?" Yeosang said, looking at you with a cute smile that made his dimples stand out. He looked so innocent that made your heart beat in happiness "That's why I'm here, jagi" you approached them, taking your daughter's cheeks between your hands "To tell our baby that mommy and daddy will try to give her a sibling as soon as possible" and then you showered your little girl with lots of kisses to which she replied more than delighted just to join forces you both a few seconds later to shower Yeosang with kisses as well. Something the male was more than happy to accept.

SAN

When your older daughter asked in the middle of the dinner for another sibling you choked with your water to which San quickly reacted by patting you gently on the back, a situation that seemed very funny to the youngest of the three children who couldn't stop laughing at mommy's coughing fit. Whoever was not amused at all was your middle child, and it was not surprising after how much she cried and threw a tantrum when San and you told her that she was going to be big sister.

"Another one?!" She looked at her parents with a mixture of fear, surprise and rejection in her eyes that threatened to burst into tears if you gave her an affirmative answer. She looked so affected that she even worried you both. San couldn't see his kid like that "No, baby" he answered with so much tenderness, hugging the kid and giving her a soft kiss on her forehead before looking at you and asking "No?".

Who knows, maybe you were expecting a fourth child and he didn't know it.

But you shook your head what made your older daughter cross her arms and openly complain about not having a fourth sibling to which your second daughter yelled a not too nice "Three are fine!" Frowning and getting up from her seat to climb onto her father's lap so he could hold her as she wanted, searching for his comfort "But I want another brother!" The eldest answered in the same way her sister had spoken. The girls' tone only hinted at an impending fight between them, something that neither San nor you wanted obviously so San immediately cut them off with a serious "Enough girls".

San hated to use a severe tone with his children but he hated even more the idea of having a fight between his daughters when it was supposed to be a nice and lovely dinner in family. Much worse if the fight was going to be about whether or not to have another member in your family.

"What have we said about raising our voices in a bad way?" He said with seriousness, which made both kids look down with a pout "Sorry..." Both girls said at unison, now looking up at their father before looking at the other, your middle child climbing off San's lap to hug her older sister as an apology. Both had been taught to apologise to each other with a hug to make amends.

And after seeing that your daughters were fine again you decided to settle the dispute "About the sibling thing" both girls had their attention on you now "Daddy and mommy think that three kids are enough, by the moment" which made your second daughter smile unconsciously while your eldest pouted "But that doesn't mean that we won't bring you another sibling in the future" this time your second daughter was the one not looking so pleased while the eldest was smiling.

From the way they both nodded you knew they were content but not satisfied with that. You had given birth to them and raised them, you knew absolutely every single one of their gestures and what they meant. But hey, the discussion was over and you could go back to dinner in peace.

MINGI

"I like this one" Your son said, pointing to a photo in which both children were curled up in their father's arms, the three of them sleeping on the couch comfortably, Mingi hadn't even changed his clothes; one of your favorite pictures in fact, just looking at it almost brought tears to your eyes "In this one dad had just arrived from a tour. You refused to leave his arms even for a single second".

"How old were we?" This one was your daughter "Seven months" Mingi answered, smiling at the memory of how his babies received him that day with their little arms raised, calling him between really cute babblings while they moved nervously in their mother's arms "Such cute babies we were and I don't remember that" Your daughter said dramatically "We need a baby in this house".

"Wait, what?" You looked between your kids and Mingi, who was as surprised as you from hearing that, getting even more surprised when your son agreed with his sister "Right! If we have a little brother or sister they will look as cute as us!".

"Woo, woo, woo. Slow down you two" Mingi tried to calm his already excited twins but it didn't work at all "And why a little brother or a little sister when we can have both?" Your daughter ignored him to continue her talk with her brother, you could almost swear that her eyes were shining. But here dad came to try to calm the situation a second time after seeing the way in which your eyes widened "I told you to slow down, neither your mom nor I have said that we are going to bring you a sibling".

"But daddy! We lost each other as a baby!" Your son exclaimed dramatically as if it was the worst thing ever, with his hands on his father's cheeks and his head tilted back to add more drama "We want to have a baby at home" your daughter pouted sadly with a frown and, before Mingi had the opportunity to reply to that you suddenly said "Well, they really seem very excited about the idea of being big bother and sister, daddy" looking at him with a knowing smile. Apparently he had misinterpreted that expression of yours from a few seconds ago.

The fact is that Mingi had caught your message but, with both children staring at him expectantly, he couldn't do anything but respond to you with one look that only you could interpret: tomorrow you weren't going to be able to get out of bed. But that was only for you, obviously, the answer for your twins was "Then it seems to me that the family is going to grow, mommy " For which your living room ended up filled with euphoric shouts from your kids.

WOOYOUNG

"Babe, come here!" Wooyoung screamed from the kitchen and a lot of horrible things crossed your mind, since your son had been burned until he had cut one of his fingers "What happens?! I swear to god that if my baby is missing just one finger I'll—".

"None of that, I have everything under control here. Just listen to what our baby has to tell you" and with that all your attention went to your three year old boy who was jumping in the stool he was standing on to help his dad with dinner "I want a little sister!" And at such a revelation you could only blink several times, looking between father and son in silence until, after blinking a few more times, you said a simple "A sister".

"Yes!" Your eldest son said really excited, jumping even higher in his spot to which Wooyoung already had his arm around him but without touching him, just as a precautionary measure to prevent his son from falling "I already have a brother, I want a sister now".

Without a doubt, you thought it was quite cute the way he had said it, swaying his little body from side to side with those bright little eyes, but you couldn't help but to look up at the smiling father, looking for an answer "Do you have anything to do with this, love?" And Wooyoung shoke his head, not stopping smiling even for a second "It's all Y/S/N idea. But I also think that it's time to have a girl, babe".

And, to say the truth, the idea of having a girl was quite tempting, even more so when you had been thinking the same thing for a while. Having two children was fantastic as well as exhausting, you were more than sure that having one more could only double the happiness but also the exhaustion. And that was a sacrifice you were willing to do for sure.

"And you? Do you want a sister too?" You asked your second son who you were carrying in your arm, the baby smiling at you the very next moment his big shining eyes met yours which made you smile too "Okay then. Let's see if we can bring you a little sister" You finally said, both your eldest son and your husband screamed with excitement "But you have to know that it may not be a girl but another boy".

"We can always try again, love, don't worry about that" Wooyoung said nonchalantly, winking at you with a big smile to which your son exclaimed an excited "Yes!" Happy with the thought that one way or another he was going to have a little sister "Why did I already expect it..." You shook your head but not in a bad mood, you were also laughing at how predictable Wooyoung and your son were to you.

JONGHO

"Go, go. Ask daddy, my love" Jongho heard you say to your son distantly, you were at the bathroom giving your kid a shower while he was resting on the sofa after having set the table for dinner. Then, the sound of tiny quick steps made him turn off his phone, waiting for his son to appear in front of him just to be surprised by the kid poking his little head out on the side "Hi, baby" Said Jongho, waiting patiently for his son to tell him whatever he had to tell him "I want a brother!".

One, two, three blinks from the surprised father. Not even a hi. His son went straight to the point. The child was certainly clear about his priorities.

Well, such a question demanded seriousness so Jongho leaned closer to the armrest to close distance with his son, resting one arm and intertwining his hands "Daddy and mommy have to talk about it first but tell me, why you want a sibling?".

He had heard multiple reasons why a child might want a sibling. Some quite cute, some quite funny, and with the witty answers your son had for everything, Jongho was especially curious about this one. What a surprise he got when he heard your little boy say "All my friends are from the school or the park, if I have a sibling I will have a friend at home too!".

It was certainly something totally unexpected for Jongho. Although the thought of his son indirectly telling him that he felt lonely at home worried him for a moment, the sight of the smiling kid quickly dispelled all those worries. His little boy just wanted a playmate at home like he had at school and in the park.

"Fine. We'll see if we give you a sibling, okay?" Your son nodded enthusiastically at his father before going to the dining table, leaving both Jongho and you alone in the living room "That was a maybe for a second baby?" You asked him with something like hope shining in your eyes and that was when Jongho remembered hearing you say how much you wanted a second child when you were on the phone, talking to a friend.

If both his son and wife wanted to expand the family, he only could please them so, standing up from his seat, Jongho approached you, stopping in front of you with both hands in the pockets of his trousers "We'll see. We can try as many times as you want but I don't control biology, jagi" and he left you there with a blush on your cheeks, clearly having taken the hint in his words, going to the dining table too with a big smile on his lips.

[blond3ang3l]

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

"Keep going bunny. Since your apparently do it so often when I'm not here. Let me see how you really are behind my back." This was so embarrassing to get caught doing. Your boyfriend was gone for almost a week cause of work and you were one to get worked up easily. Unfortunately for you he came home and caught you with your plushie between your thick thighs grinding against it. The soft whimpers and pants that fell from you were too distinct so he knew you were getting close. It was a beautiful sight to him. He wanted to surprise you by coming over and instead he got an even better one.

He wiped the tears that started to drip from your eyes at the overwhelming need to cum, but no matter how much you did it was like you couldn't. Nothing felt as good as him and he knew that.

" Please B, mm help me." You pleaded to the older man. His dark grin only widened as he saw you getting desperate. Usually you'd be so shy, making him turn your plushies away when you did anything, but now you were making a mess all over your favorite one. His large hand grabbed your face with a taunt. His free one went into your drawer that was next to your side of the bed.

The hand on your jaw moved your head up so you were looking directly at him. He took in your dumbed down look. The neediness hiding (just barely) in your glossy eyes. The way your face had a slight tint of red from you being frustrated at not being able to cum. "Can you ask nicely, hm? Ask the right way and I might think about it. You let out a small sob only making him smirk. His grip tightened as his hand moved from your jaw to your chest, lifting up the shirt which just so happened to be his that you wore.

He didn't have to worry about you breaking eye contact with him and moving your head. You knew better. The rough hand grabbed and smacked at your chest making you whine. "C'mon bunny. Why do I have to repeat myself? You want something then what do you do?" He taunted.

Your head was practically spinning at this point. He always dumbed you down whenever he was around. How could you resist? He was everything you wanted in a man. He made all the decisions and did everything for you so it was bound to happen that your brain would turn off around him. "Have to ask nicely." Your answer earned you a smirk from your boyfriend. Anyone else would think that reply would have made him happy, but you knew it egged him on.

"Go ahead. I'm waiting bunny." Your smaller hand moved to his that was still harshly groping your chest. "Please. Daddy I need your help. S' not the same as you. Butcher gave a small hum of acknowledgement before pressing his lips against yours. The gloss you wore getting all over his lips and a bit in his beard. The temporary distraction quickly ended when you felt your vibrator against your most sensitive parts making you throw your head back.

Your legs instinctively closed shut only for him to force them open. " Nuh uh, none of that shit. You're gonna take this punishment or I'm gonna draw it out real long." Your hands grabbed at his arm that he had wrapped around your waist as your hips bucked into the wand repeatedly. Your moans bounced off the wall and filled Butchers ears much to his delight. "H-hah! Fuck, m' so close daddy. Can I cum?"

Butcher gave a chuckle at your begging before turning up the speed. Within seconds you felt your orgasm come over you. Your hips stuttered as the sticky mess between your thighs, on the bed, and on your plushie grew tenfold. Your breaths started to grow shaky and sounded more like whines mixed with pants. He wiped away the last few remaining tears as your legs twitched. "There you go, so good f' me. Lay down okay? Let me clean you up." You have a small nod as he pressed his lips against your cheek. Having a older boyfriend was more fun than people led on..

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

[honeysorwell]

all of it (all of you) 

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader

Prompt by anon + Idea for reader's nationality by anon

Synopsis: After more than 10 years with the same hairdresser, Melissa Schemmenti must change salons.

Tag list: (Since this is my first time writing for this character, I thought it best not to tag anyone. So if you want to be tagged just let me know.)

Warning: MELISSA AND Y/N ARE MAaaaD *in Ava's voice*

Words: 4k

Synopsis of the story + Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Enjoy!

Link on AO3

Chapter 1 - Changes

Barbara Howard's friendship had a transformative impact on Melissa Schemmenti's personal life from the beginning.

The religious woman's friendship at the beginning of the redhead's career made the Italian woman rethink many things about herself. Regardless of their moral differences, how their individual relationships with religion are almost opposite, or even their small disagreements, one thing right at the beginning turned Melissa's world upside down.

The once chaotic and disorganized woman discovered the calming practicality of being hostage to well-established standards with a Christmas gift from her black coworker in her second year working at Abbott Elementary.

A schedule with a small calendar.

The year she received that gift, the redhead was furious with what was left written between the lines.

Disorganization.

After all, Melissa had absolutely everything under control.

She always had.

In her own way.

And Melissa also thought it was stupid to waste precious time that could be spent working by just planning to work, but after a terribly inconsistent semester (with more art, music and physical education teachers being fired than she can count on one hand), the redhead decided to give it a try.

So, 22 years ago Melissa started to use a schedule and a calendar every year faithfully and never looked back.

As she got older, the certainty of her upcoming appointments and how easy was to change what was needed on that sheet of paper to make better use of her time kept Melissa calm even during all the chaos that continued to live in her head and in her classroom every day. But everything changed when the spaces on pages that were reserved especially for her monthly visits to her family's hairdresser were now blank.

Rationally, the redhead knew that the hairdresser who had taken care of her grandmother's hair for the last twenty years of her life, two of her aunts out of town, washed and cared for her mother's hair every week, and three of her sisters periodically couldn't last long. But Melissa couldn't help but feel fooled and betrayed when Andrea Rossi announced her retirement.

The redhead hadn't been Andrea's client for her entire life, after all, the older hairdresser's regular clients had always been her priority. However, Melissa began to be part of the select group of Schemmenti women helped by Andrea when her former hairdresser (the one who had a Greek accent and many opinions that she hated but didn't discuss because he was her brother-in-law's friend), decided to call her Melinda, even after having her as a client for over three years.

Melinda.

Even though it was seventeen years ago, Barb still remembers the angry redheaded hurricane that entered the teachers’ lounge that week and still manages to make jokes about it whenever she gets the chance.

Monthly visits to the older woman had started with a simple hair color, but unlike her old hairdresser, Andrea had become much more than that for Melissa.

It was a ritual, a moment of care that for a long time brought her joy and confidence. It was talking animatedly with an Italian woman who showed her affection and care, something neither of them would admit out loud but was lacking in the Schemmenti family when it came to recognizing Melissa’s efforts and personal victories.

And now it was over.

“Ragazza (girl), don’t be like that… I’m old now, my hands hurt more than I can handle after a busy weekend,” Andrea tried to justify, stroking Melissa’s head with a tender smile as she finished coloring her hair that day, but which did not hide the weight of the decision.

“And what am I going to do now? Let the gray hair give me another 30 years in less than 6 months?”

“Don’t be silly! I’ve already transferred all my clients to hairdressers that I trust. You included! So stop it now!”

“I don’t want someone new.” Turning uncertainty into resistance is like armor for the redhead, even though she knows she has no choice, her brain still tries to break the meaning of Andrea’s retirement, “It’s going to mess up my entire schedule, Andrea! Two rooms and now with you gone? I almost went crazy with the first semester of the year alone, now I know I’ll as soon as classes start after winter break!”

“I know that, Melissa. That’s why I talked to the hairdressers I know, and the best choice for you is Y/N, my last trainee. She’s great, hard-working, very talented and was willing to easily change her own clients’ schedule to see you at the same time I see you every month, she also works just five minutes away from here. You’ll like her.”

“But I don’t know her.” Even though she didn’t admit it, the idea of ​​a stranger touching her hair disturbed Melissa deeply, and the murmur that left her mouth made a point of emphasizing this.

The change came too quickly, and with it, a wave of anxiety took over Melissa's heart. This feeling was temporarily drowned out by her more than exhausting end-of-year routine. She was the hostess of the Schemmenti family's Thanksgiving dinner, and this, along with the end of the year, drained her ability to think about her other problems. But when the following month arrived, and along with the return to school after winter break, her colorless hair also started to show again, so Melissa swallowed her pride and went to the salon that Andrea had recommended to her.

Riverfront Roots.

The name was silly, a clear reference to the Delaware River that Melissa preferred not to think about too much as she looked at the large letters printed on the facade of the place. As soon as she entered the new salon, the smell of hair products and the sound of blow dryers buzzing caught her attention. The place was modern and well-decorated, but Melissa couldn't feel completely at ease. The smell was different, the decor was different, the voices were different, and the redhead hated each of these things.

She wasn't so reluctant to little changes in her daily life, but that week was so exhausting. The two classes together made a point of actively getting on her nerves, Gary also changed some of the lemonade brands in the vending machine and none of the new ones lived up to the taste of the old ones. The man made a point of telling the redhead that it wasn't done on purpose, thanks to the end of their relationship, and she genuinely believed him, but even so, such a change in such a tiring week only made the teacher's discomfort that Saturday morning turn into a gratuitous and deep antipathy towards the new place.

The woman of Italian descent approached the counter, where a receptionist graced her with a friendly smile.

"Hello, how can I help you today?", was the question that greeted Melissa, with a kindness that, in the redhead's mind, was completely unnecessary.

The teacher hesitated for a moment before answering sharply, ignoring the hello offered to her.

"Schemmenti. Melissa Schemmenti, please. I have a coloring booked here. A recommendation from Andrea Rossi." While the receptionist checked her information, Melissa looked around, trying to get used to the new habitat, but she barely had time to do so because, in less than thirty seconds, the receptionist escorted Melissa to a chair in front of one of the largest mirrors in the salon.

The chair that was chosen for the redhead was a little isolated from the other people present, who were laughing and talking without worrying about the noise, but if the redhead was being honest with herself, she actually preferred it that way.

“Hello, Melissa. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you. I hope you fell welcome and comfortable here with me. Andrea has told me wonderful things about you and I have her notes in my hand to make sure you leave here satisfied.”, a younger woman with a thick accent appeared out of nowhere, vomiting the words at Melissa with a smile and a sweet voice that were already starting to give the redhead a headache.

The speech seemed rehearsed, still genuine, but her voice seemed too practiced to instill comfort in the redhead. And if that wasn't enough, the younger woman was enthusiastically waving a note in her hand like a triumph, making Melissa even more insecure about Y/N's talent than she already was.

The teacher knows she's not an idiot but… This hairdresser wasn't even thirty years old. This Y/N was clearly in her early twenties, with rich hair and a quick smile that probably lit up the room more than those stupid ringlights that surrounded the chairs in that place.

Not to mention that she was beautiful. Very beautiful.

A part of Melissa, hyper-aware of her own age, felt the bitter taste of envy take over her tongue as she looked at the younger woman's reflection in the mirror in front of her, but another part, even more recklessly, awakened a dormant desire in her mind.

However, even with that spark hidden behind Melissa's eyes, their initial interaction couldn't have been worse.

Y/N seemed excited, first asking Melissa for permission to touch her hair – something the redhead almost said no to, just to see if that smile would die on her lips – but quickly the hairdresser started discussing ideas for Melissa's hair, something that forced the redhead's voice to sound cutting:

"I just dyed my hair red for years.", Melissa made sure her voice sounded as sharp as she intended, "Get those ideas out of your head and just do what Andrea use to do."

The lack of niceness caused Y/N to feel strange, but the hairdresser tried to remain calm despite the discomfort.

New clients were always a little insecure, so the Brazilian woman would just prove to the one in front of her that she had talent.

Y/N always had magical hands. When she was still a girl, on the hot afternoons in her hometown, she would have fun braiding the hair of her school friends. Long locks of hair shiny thanks to the summer sun and strands yellowed by the chemicals of several women in the city often passed through Y/N's hands as if she were an artist molding a sculpture.

Her friends loved the hairstyles she did. At first, they were not at all sophisticated due to her young age, but they were done with so much love and dedication that they always seemed to transform any hair into something unique. For Y/N, it was more than just fun.

It was a passion.

When she reached her teen years, that passion became something more serious. Y/N was not satisfied with just doing the hair of her friends and family. The Brazilian woman wanted to learn, she wanted to master the art of transforming people's hair into something even more special.

That's why when she graduated from high school, Y/N started studying, and within a few months, she was already working professionally at a salon in her city. It didn't take long for her to be recognized for the quality of her work. Her skill with scissors and dye made her quickly stand out among other professionals. She knew what she was doing, she knew how to transform people into more beautiful versions of themselves, she knew what her clients wanted and, most importantly, she knew how to make them feel good.

Little by little, Y/N began to stand out even more and her life began to change.

She knew that her talent could not be limited, and so, when some close friends who had already moved to the United States began to encourage her to try her luck in Philadelphia, Y/N was scared at first. But if the chance to start over in another country meant more opportunities, she couldn't let this pass, even if the exciting idea had the power to scare her. But even though she was frightened, she was soon embarking on a new chapter in her life in a plane.

It was hard to save money for the travel, it was hard to get all the necessary documents to enter the USA legally, it was hard to leave loyal clients behind, and it was even harder to leave her country and its traditions. But the youthfulness of her soul and the hope of a new life embraced her heart and the hairdresser decided to give herself this chance.

Wen she arrived in Philadelphia, Y/N felt, at the same time, small and full of possibilities. The city was big, the competition was powerful, and she was seen as just another foolish immigrant.

But she was determined.

The Brazilian woman knew that her skill could be the key to a promising future. She just didn’t expect that her future would be shaped by Andrea Rossi, an older and more experienced Italian hairdresser who worked at a well-known salon nearby.

The story happened by chance. One of Andrea’s regular clients mentioned that her son had gotten a haircut from a really new Brazilian hairdresser.

“It was something very different… Like those stupid things we see on TikTok, but it was exactly what James wanted, and we had never found anyone willing to do it. What this young woman did perfectly and without thinking twice, and my son loved it!”, the woman commented in admiration before giving the older woman an idea, “You should meet her!”

Andrea was curious and, figuring she had nothing to lose, asked for more information about the Brazilian woman. The client was enthusiastic and told the Italian one everything she knew and, even though she was skeptical, Andrea let her curiosity get the best of her and decided to see it for herself.

The next day, she went to the salon where Y/N was working and, observing closely, immediately noticed the young woman’s skill. The Brazilian woman had the touch of someone who knew what she was doing, an eye for beauty trends, and the needs of her clients, but she also had more than that.

Y/N had a natural connection with people, a charisma that, combined with her smile and strong accent, made any client feel at ease, and Andrea saw that.

So the Italian woman wasted no time. She called Y/N for a chat at the end of her shift and, soon, took her on as her last pupil before announcing her retirement.

Normally, hearing Andrea Rissi's name made Y/N happy. All the advice, recommendations, affection, and wisdom shared by the older woman were a pleasant memory for the Brazilian woman.

But there, while she tried in vain to be nice to what was Andrea's transfer, having her work compared to the older woman's began to annoy her.

First, the owner of those pretty green eyes began to verbalize her dissatisfaction with the work tools Y/N used, telling her how much she preferred Andrea's work tools, which were always on display for her clients to see. Then the redhead started rolling her eyes at Y/N's coworkers, who, since they had no clients, were chatting spiritedly while planning to get their nails done at the end of the day, muttering how much she would appreciate some peace and quiet.

But the first sign Y/N gave that she was definitely not the type of person who would just ignore or shrink from Melissa's bad mood was when the redhead made a point of directly comparing her work to Andrea's before Y/N even started dyeing her hair.

"Andrea, don't part my hair like that. You'll leave my hair full of spots!"

Trying to preserve the good mood she had woken up in that morning, the hairdresser chose to be sneaky and ironic. Y/N looked around theatrically and curiously, as if she was searching for something important, and Melissa, unable to contain her fear and confusion, made her voice present.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just looking for Andrea Rossi since you want to talk about her so badly.”

Receiving only silence as an answer, and thinking that the unhappy attitude of that client was over, the hairdresser continues her journey. Y/N measures the dye with all the care in the world, making sure to double-check on the scale in front of her that the weight is correct when compared to what Andrea gave her over the phone before applying the dye accurately, fearing giving Melissa another reason to complain. The Brazilian woman divides Melissa’s hair locks with the focus of a professional with much more experience, doing everything she can to not lose a single gray hair, and when she goes to wash it, she does so with a gentleness that surprises Melissa.

But the teacher doesn’t want to admit it, so she continues to stare sullenly at the mirror, even while Y/N gently untangles her wet hair.

When the redhead’s hair is nice and completely ready to be dried, Y/N looks at her hair curiously before turning once more to Melissa’s reflection in the mirror.

“I usually do this before dyeing, but what do you think about maybe cutting a few inches? The ends are starting to lose their shape.”

“I don’t want to cut anything.”, the words are said low enough for no one but the hairdresser to hear but Y/N, but with a hint of anger that surprised the young woman, “And stop talking, your voice is too annoying for the kind of mediocre work you deliver, kid.”

It was insensitive. Even to Melissa.

The redhead knows that Andrea would never send her to a bad hairdresser. She knows she is being harsh and critical to someone who gave her no reason to do so, but before she realizes it the words have already escaped her mouth.

But the teacher simply has no idea what was coming.

The hairdresser’s eyes widened, large pupils full of rage meeting the teacher’s gaze through the mirror, shocked by the words said by Melissa. And, before Melissa's mind can even work on instigating any remorseful reflexes, Y/N grabs a large chunk of hair from the redhead's bangs and takes a pair of scissors out of her pocket with her free hand, quickly placing them right on Melissa's forehead, exactly where her hair grows, like a more than concrete threat.

“Listen to me Philadelphia's beauty, I don't know what kind of hairdresser you expected when Andrea transferred you to me but as long as you sit in my chair you will respect my work and listen to my fucking suggestions.”, it is said as a whisper, but the hairdresser's anger and her thick accent along with the slight pull she gives the redhead's hair make the whole interaction sound indescribably scary, even to Melissa, “I've been nothing but polite and respectful to you, but I'm starting to regret accepting someone so unfortunate in my char that they think they can criticize my work without even knowing me.”

There, locking eyes with Y/N ​​in the salon mirror, Melissa understood how much she had crossed the line.

Melissa took a deep breath, filled with adrenaline at the thought of losing the top part of her hair, before nodding her head, causing Y/N to put down the scissors and let go of her bangs as she returned to work normally.

And then silence.

Dead silence.

The silence between the two women was so thick that it seemed to fill every corner of the room, making the sound of the dryer and the conversations around them sound muffled and filling the air with a corrosive feeling.

The scene from minutes ago was still boiling in Melissa's mind, repeating itself like a scratched record. Now, as if Melissa had finally come to her senses, the redhead wanted to disappear. She wanted to jump out of the chair and run away from the mirror which reflected her own guilt and shame. But she couldn't. Her anxiety combined with the idea of ​​leaving now, before the end of her service (something that could be even more disrespectful than her words), did a magnificent job holding her body in place, like an invisible chain that kept her feet on the floor and her mouth gagged.

With her fingers drumming on her apron-covered leg as the Brazilian woman prepared to style her hair, the teacher wanted to believe that it hadn't been so bad, that maybe Y/N had already forgotten what was said. But she knew that wasn't true. The weight of the moment still hung between them, thick and uncomfortable.

Y/N doesn't cut her hair or even mention the idea once again. The hairdresser just dries her red hair perfectly, but now with a serious gaze and a hurt look on her face. The Brazilian woman vehemently ignores Melissa's green eyes throughout the entire process, and the teacher stupidly decides too late that she prefers the incessant smile that remained on the hairdresser's lips minutes ago.

Melissa thought about apologizing, but the idea of ​​speaking made her breathing quick and shallow, along with the fear of seeming too desperate.

It was then that her eyes fell on the small ceramic jar in the corner of the counter next to her chair. It was decorated with hand-painted flowers and had, in crooked but legible letters, the words: "Tips for Y/N" next to a QR code. Even with the virtual possibility of compensation, the jar was open and with a significant amount of dollars, coins, and two lollipops, which Melissa just knew had been left there by a child.

And so, an idea formed, hesitant but clear in the teacher's mind.

A good tip seemed perfect, silent, indirect, but still meaningful. As the minutes passed, anxiety whispered again in Melissa's mind, wondering if Y/N would believe that she was doing this because of the guilt she felt at that very moment and not because of the regret that was now eating her mind. But the alternative of doing nothing was simply unbearable for Melissa.

The redhead knew she couldn't leave without at least trying, even if in her own way, to make amends.

When Y/N finished applying a light-smelling oil to the teacher's hair and walked away, silently letting her know that her work was done, Melissa tried to meet the hairdresser's eyes and give her a small smile, which she knew would be nervous, but which could give her an idea of ​​what was going on in Y/N's head.

But Y/N didn't look at Melissa.

When Melissa got up from the salon chair, her racing heart didn't stop her from taking two generous bills from her wallet — much more than she would usually give for just an appointment to dye her hair— and walking over to the pot. Her fingers were shaking slightly, but before anything could be done, she was interrupted:

“I don’t want your tip.” Before the two hundred dollars could enter the ceramic pot with the Brazilian’s name written on it, Y/N placed her own hand over the top to the object, successfully blocking Melissa from doing what she intended.

“Okay. Now you’re being ridiculous!”

With those words, the hairdresser's eyes finally focus on the green ones again, still filled with an anger that Melissa rarely sees in people who have a disagreement with her (too used to the regretful and submissive ones) and the redhead was shocked by this when Y/N actively chooses to ignore her accusation by saying:

"I'm willing to give you the exact coloring mixture that Andrea developed for your hair so you can find a hairdresser who is like the silent imitation of Andrea that you are looking for.", and before the redhead even has a chance to answer her with an apology that would apparently be necessary, the hairdresser quickly collects everything that was used in the teacher's service and directs Melissa a few more words before walking away without looking back, "Call the salon when you want the measurements and the receptionist will share them with you with pleasure. Have a good rest of your day."

[dr-spectre]

Ok... is it safe to talk about Sonic Movie 3 spoilers yet? The movie is out on digital and it's been over a month.

Idk. Anyways.

I am both curious and utterly terrified on how they are gonna write Metal Sonic and Amy for Sonic Movie 4.

I will start off with my boy Metal first.

Metal Sonic to me is a very interesting character due to his goals and motivation. His goal to prove that he is the REAL Sonic and that he's better than the "fake" one. The way that he acts is a near perfect replication of Sonic's attitude, from the finger wagging to the poses he does in Sonic CD and the OVA, he is all about proving that he is Sonic the Hedgehog.

Metal Sonic is just not a simple robotic clone, he has depth to him and they expand upon GREATLY when he becomes Neo Metal Sonic and becomes SO OBSESSED with proving that he's the real Sonic by turning into a monster and trying to rule over everything, just so he can finally kill Sonic.

EVEN EGGMAN IS LIKE "Yeah naw dude we're fucked, we NEED the chaos emeralds to have a chance at beating him."

After his Heroes appearance, he became nothing more than a robotic clone used in spinoff games and in terrible mainline games like Sonic 4 and Forces. He only had splashes of depth to him in the IDW comics with this phenomenal scene.

So when i see Metal Sonic and a whole army of him in the post credit scene of Sonic Movie 3, i can't help but feel VERY WORRIED on what they are gonna do with him.

I mean don't get me wrong, the design is nearly on par with the game version, aside that fucking mouth piece thing, it looks AWFUL!!!! I HATE ITTTT!!

WHAT IS THIS!?!? WHY DOES HE HAVE AN ANGRY MOUTH!? ITS NOT SCARY AT ALL LMAO!

But now I'm just wondering, will they give Metal Sonic that depth he used to have? Will we actually see Neo Metal Sonic or will the main Metal Sonic be the coloured one we saw?

I don't want Metal Sonic to be like his appearances in Sonic 4 Episode 2 and Forces. I want it to rival his appearance in the OVA and Heroes dude. I want a fucking great antagonist, not a cheap robot that shoots out energy blasts.

I want a god damn intimidating robot Sonic.

Now... Amy Rose.

As some of you probably know, i like a character wrapped in pink, is hyperactive, wields a giant melee weapon and is always mischaracterized in the fandom they are from. When i was younger, i used to dismiss her or think she was just funny and move on. But as i've gotten older, i've actually grown to really like the character, especially in the older 3D games and with retranslation mods. Her story with Gamma was beautiful, her speech to Shadow, her jokes, her flirty/fangirl attitude towards Sonic. It's really fun to watch. Most media has a boy fall in love with the girl, but with Amy and Sonic, it's the opposite. Their dynamic is unique.

I also love how in some stories, Amy can get REAL PISSED OFF and have anger issues. Even roses has thorns.

However... in more recent stories like Frontiers, her personality has been mellowed out by a lot and her crush for Sonic is pretty much gone now. She's all about "sharing love with the world" now and her anger issues are gone.

Some say she's grown up and "oh she changed!" But we actually don't see this character growth at all. It's one thing to tell a story about how Amy learns that maybe her love for Sonic is too much and she learns to just be a good friend to Sonic. But it's another when the character has a MASSIVE personality change between Lost World, Forces and Frontiers. AND THEN THEY CHANGED GENERATIONS TO MAKE AMY LESS FLIRTY AND ANGRY LIKE.... HUH!?!? WHY!?!?!? THAT'S NOT HOW YOU WRITE A CHARACTER ARC!!!!! YOU GOTTA SHOW IT!!!! (A lot of Sonic characters have this issue too so it's not just an Amy problem.)

And them also doing the whole "Amy is no longer a damsel in distress anymore and her love for Sonic is over" is just... no dude. Amy was a damsel a couple of times and they never lasted that long. She's not on the same level as Peach. And the IDW comics tried to make her a Sally Acorn type character for some reason as well at first. Which was REALLY WEIRD! But maybe it's changed idk, i haven't kept up with the comics these days.

The only Amy that i really like in more modern stories is the one from The Murder of Sonic The Hedgehog. Now THAT'S how you write Amy.

So now, when i see Amy come in with a hood on and destroying Metal Sonics with ease, I'm left wondering, "oh no... how are they gonna write her?"

Will they actually show Amy's crush on Sonic? Will Amy just have Sally's personality? Will they give her some damn thorns? Will they make it to where SONIC IS THE ONE WITH THE CRUSH!?!? PLEASE DON'T DO THAT! DO NOT GO THE GENERIC ROUTE PLEASE!!

If they make it to where when Amy takes off her hood in Sonic Movie 4 and immediately falls for Sonic I'll eat all of my words, but i doubt that would happen....

Anyhow, those were my thoughts, i know that it's too early to make a definitive statement on things but i just wanna voice my concerns due to other recent Sonic stories not landing in the characterisation department for me.

[jurassicshields]

Morro and Rogue. While I am happy that both of these guys get new, cool figures, something is just off. The Rogue one is the best, but that Morro just doesn't really look like him. So I tried my best to change some things up, with color adjusting and inspired by older Minifigures, and make a redesign of this pair.

The Morro one has great detail, but the colors just needed some adjusting to make everything pop. And I gave his a remake of his classic face, with parts from his new design, because for some reason Ninjago changed it? I also gave him a tattered cape. Also for some reason Lego is still against making a show accurate hair piece, for some unknown reason?

For Rogue I changed his colors all up. Since he's suppose to be in hiding, wearing all blue is just hilarious! I get this is not a serious series, but it's still quite funny. So I gave him more of the old Nya colors, since they are no longer being used(and maybe that is something in the back of his memory he can remember, what his Yang use to look like when he fell in love with her). And the straw cloak-thing(at least that's what I think it is) I made an actual Lego fabric.

And I want to clarify that I actually love both of these figures. I bought the set and it was very fun to build. The only thing is that the quality of Lego has been decreasing every year, and I just wanted to see if I could recreate how these guys would look if they had an older inspired design. For such expensive sets, you'd think Lego would try and make it appear more desirable, with better designs and more collectible features. But for now, this is what we've got; and I am happy that Ninjago at least is still a thing.

[ironboyxs]

Brave Enough

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word count: 2394

p.s. no beta reader we died just like bucky's role in brave new world and this is a request from @megamonstermuffin hope you enjoy it! sorry it took me so long

Bucky was still getting used to living in the Avengers Tower, since the events of the Civil War, the government gave him pardon and Stark… Well, Stark was a work in progress. Besides Steve, the only person who Bucky felt a little bit closer to was Y/N. The boy was sweet and was always trying to make everyone feel comfortable and a little better. He had been recruited to the Avengers due to his magical abilities and the Winter Soldier was always kind of fascinated with him. 

Bucky was in one of the kitchens of the tower, the one that was closest to his bedroom. It was really late at night and he had learned with his time with Hydra how to be quiet when he walks. 

— Hey there, soldier. - A voice says in the dark.

Bucky finds Y/N sitting on the counter drinking what seemed to be tea.

— Evening… couldn’t sleep? - He answers the boy

Not really - Y/N shrugs - There is a lot in my head these days.

Bucky folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall, still keeping his distance but letting himself relax a bit.

— Yeah… I get that. What’s got you up at this hour?

Y/N takes a deep breath 

— Have you ever had the feeling that you should be more brave?

— … all the time

Bucky pauses and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze flicking to the floor momentarily

— I’ve felt that way all my life. Brave enough? Strong enough? Good enough? - His speaking is softly, his Brooklyn accent heavy on his voice.

— And how do you cope with that?

Bucky sighs heavily as if he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders like he has for years

— I don’t. 

He hesitates again before continuing, his voice lowering an octave

— Some days I can handle that feeling, I can force it away. Try and keep it out of my head. But other days I barely even get out of bed.

His eyes flutter up from the floor to you, gaze searching the boy’s face

— I must look like some idiot kid complaining... I bet you have been through much more than me - I give a self-deprecating laugh.

— Hey, don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to me.

Bucky speaks firmly, his voice taking on an authoritative tone, one he used many years ago in the war.

- Don’t let that thought even cross your mind. Your problems are just as important as mine are. -He pauses and takes a step closer - ...what makes you think you should be more brave?

Y/N looks down a little embarrassed 

— I just... I just feel I am weak compared to the rest of you guys, I don't know if my magic is good enough, I don't even have the courage to confess… - He stops himself before continuing

— Hey, look at me.

The older one says sternly, his expression has softened to something more gentle. He slowly walks closer towards Y/N, his movements are unthreatening, non-aggressive.

— I don’t want you putting yourself down. I don’t want you thinking this way, you hear me? You’re not weak. Not by a long shot.

Y/N smiles softly to him 

— Thanks... you are very kind, you know that?

He hums softly in response, the corners of his mouth quirking into a small, but very kind, smile. He rubs the back of his neck again, hesitating for a second or two before speaking again

— You... you mentioned not even having the courage to confess?

Y/N immediately feels his cheeks turning red and a huge embarrassment falls over him - Oh that? I... I didn't mean anything - He starts to stutter -  I was just thinking out loud

Bucky laughs, but is is a warm and gentle laugh

— Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.

He hesitates for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing as he sees the color rising in the younger one’s cheeks.

— ...is there someone you like?

The younger boy looks down in embarrassment 

— Was it that obvious?

Bucky chuckles softly, his expression is kind as he takes another step forward, standing just a short distance away from Y/N

— Not exactly obvious, but you gave me the clues.

He pauses and leans back against the counter next to you

— ... so who is it then? Is it someone in the tower?

— Maybe... I say blushing even harder

He smiles warmly, gently patting Y/N on the shoulder

— C’mon, I won’t make fun of you.

He takes another moment to pause before saying, in a very even and casual tone, as if the answer doesn’t really matter

— ...it’s not me, is it?

The younger wizard just stays silent, he doesn't know what to answer... Bucky was born in the 40's, what if... what if he was homophobic or something? He could be a cool friend but... Y/N didn't want to risk losing everything

The soldier notes his silence and tilts his head softly, his expression is a mix of mild confusion but also understanding. He takes a deep breath and speaks again

— ...don’t worry. I won’t go telling everyone. Or judging you for it either. Just... just tell me honestly.

His voice is still soft, his eyes searching for the younger man’s face, watching his nervous expression

— Can I make a question before? Y/N asks hesitantly

Bucky raises an eyebrow, but a small smile still plays on his face

— Sure. Ask away.

— In your time... did you know any guy like me? I mean... any gay guy - Y/N says scared of his answer

A soft look of realization crosses Bucky’s face as he hears the question. He gently pats Y/N’s shoulder, his voice still soft and kind as he answers

— ...yes, I did know quite a few guys like you back in my day. Most of them couldn’t be out about it, but they were there.

He pauses and hesitates for a moment, his expression becoming contemplative as he remembers his past, his voice growing softer still as he adds

— Even in the army.

— And what did you think about it?

Bucky is quiet for a moment, taking a deep and steady breath. He tries to carefully choose the right words to say to Y/N

— Me personally? I was fine with it. People can’t help who they love.

He pauses again, his expression growing more solemn as he adds

— ...but I did know many others from my time who weren’t so accepting.

— So... what would be your reaction if a man says he likes you... romantically? - The boy asks looking down

Bucky smiles a bit at the question, his hand still on Y/N’s shoulder. He takes a moment before he speaks, his voice warm, gentle, and sincere

— ...Depends on the man.

He gently nudges Y/N with his metal arm, gesturing for him to lean forward. When he does, he lowers his voice slightly, his tone more confidential

— ....and whether or not I feel the same.

Y/N feels a shiver run through his body from head to toe when the older man speaks so close to him

— I think you have the answer to your question for me then

Bucky gives a soft chuckle as the boy shivers, his hand rubbing the top of his shoulder, a slightly teasing but mostly fond look on his face

— ...maybe I do.

He pauses for a moment, a kind sort of tension between the two men as he looks the boy right in the eye, his expression is a mix of warmth and seriousness all at once, as if this next part he wants you to listen to very closely

— ...why do you like me?

Y/N smiles slightly knowing that his first reaction wasn't to reject him

— You're kind, brave, strong, you're a man who's been through a lot and managed to overcome it all. You inspire me and being around you is... like a magnet. It helps that you're pretty handsome too -  The boy gives a shy laugh

Bucky barks out a loud laugh at that, his expression lighting up in amusement. He pats Y/N on the back, his hand slowly dropping to his hip and stays there, a slight smile on his face as he says jokingly

— Am I the first one who knows about this? 

— Exclusive news for you, soldier

— Oh, is it? Well I’m honored to be the first to know. - He says putting his hands on the hips of the young boy

The feeling of his hands on Y/N’s hips were like a burning fire, but a good fire, a welcome warmth that he would like to embrace

— What do you want to do about this then? - Y/N asks almost in a whisper

Bucky hesitates for a moment, his eyes dropping down to the boy’s hips where his hand is resting, his thumb gently rubbing the side of Y/N’s hip through the fabric of his shirt. He smiles softly, his gaze slowly traveling up to the wizard’s face, his eyes tracing over his features for a second before he speaks

— ...now that is the million dollar question right there.

He takes a deep breath and gives the boy’s hip a light squeeze

Y/N look into his eyes 

— I almost had a heart attack confessing to you soldier, now it's your turn to take action

Bucky laughs and gives a very soft smirk at that, his hand grips Y/N’s hip a bit more firmly now, his body leaning closer towards his, not enough to crowd him, but just enough to be a little more intimate

— Action, hm?

— I think I can definitely do that.

— I am waiting - Y/N says now with more confidence in his eyes

Seeing his expression change like that, seeing the boy become more confident, brings a bit more of a cocky smirk to Bucky’s lips. He lightly pulls Y/N closer, almost chest to chest with him now. He pauses for a moment just so he can admire the younger man’s face and how close he is to you, his voice is lower now, the playfulness gone, sounding more confident and commanding

— I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, kid.

— Just kiss me already idiot - Y/N rolls his eyes

Bucky gives an amused huff at that, his hand now fully wrapping around the boy’s hip, his grip firm and possessive, almost like he’s trying to leave his mark

— Bossy little thing, aren’t you?

He slowly leans his head closer to Y/N’s, his expression still holding that cocky smirk, but his words, even though teasing, are said in a rather gentle almost loving tone

— Impatient too.

— So am I the only one craving here, is that?

Bucky gives another amused huff as he grabs the younger’s hips with both hands now, pulling him close enough that he is pressed up against him, his body now flush against him. He raises an eyebrow and his smirk grows a little more cocky, his fingers gently dig into Y/N hips as he says teasingly:

— ...is it my job to teach you a few things about patience, doll?

— Maybe - Y/N bites his lips and caress Bucky’s cheek -  Maybe i can behave with a kiss

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his hands gripping the boy’s thighs a bit tighter, not enough to hurt, but enough to show who’s in control. He seems impressed by his actions and he smiles slightly.

— Maybe, huh?

He pauses for a moment and leans forward, his face just inches away from Y/N’s, the boy can practically feel his hot breath on his skin

—...well doll, I think you’ve definitely earned that kiss by teasing me like that.

Y/N get close to him desiring him more and more feeling like something will explode in him

— Please Bucky…

Bucky grins at that, he’s enjoying this. Seeing how impatient Y/N grows and how he gets so desperate for him, is doing all kinds of things to him. He presses himself even close, one of his hands moving from his thighs to his lower back, pressing the smaller boy against him, his body nearly flush against his back

— Shhh. No need to beg, doll. I just love seeing you so desperate for me.

— Please kiss me - Y/N begs in a whisper*

Bucky has to resist the moan rising in his throat after hearing his voice asking so nicely, he smirks, still enjoying dragging this out a bit longer, his voice low and teasing as he says:

— Say please again, doll. Beg me to kiss you.

Y/N gets close to his ear feeling the scent of his male cologne

— Please please please

Bucky’s smirk fades into an expression of a more primal sort of hunger. Hearing Y/N moan those words so close to his ear drives him crazy, he’s getting harder by the second, his breath is coming in short pants now, his voice is lower and almost guttural when he says:

— Keep saying please like that, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.

— Then give me this 

Y/N grabs his head and pull him into a kiss, a passionate kiss, one that he wished for so long that he didn't even knew how much he needed it

Bucky melts into the kiss, giving into Y/N completely, his hand gripping his hip tighter than before, his body now completely pressed against his. He makes a low sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a moan and a growl, as the kiss deepens, becoming more heated and passionate, like a man starving who finally gets a taste of something he’s wanted for years. He kisses Y/N like a man possessed, his tongue exploring his mouth, mapping out every inch, wanting more and more

— What do you say about taking me to your bedroom soldier? - Y/N whispers against his ear

Bucky lets out a low moan when the boy whisper into his ear, his fingers dig into his hip and he takes a shaky breath before softly answering:

— ...bedroom’s soundin’ real good right about now. Doll.

He grabs his now really hot boy’s hand and starts leading him out of the main kitchen, going towards his bedroom, his footsteps a bit more brisk now, anticipation growing

[shineon3]

hi <3 how do you feel about royal AUs? Maybe with a "got betrayed by someone close and now has trust issues" twist? hope you feel better soon!

Nonny, I love royal AUs so so much!! Thank you for the prompts ❤️ I had lots of fun writing this one, even if it is a bit angsty at first :3

It’s the middle of the night, and yet here Max is, sitting in his office and torturing himself over his next speech because he hasn’t managed to sleep more than two hours in a row for the last year.

It’s ridiculous.

He can almost hear his father berating him for his childish behaviour, but he just cannot help it.

How could he let himself sleep and be at his most vulnerable, when not long ago his most trusted friend took advantage of that to try and kill him?

Somewhere, those he thought were his most trusted advisors had managed to escape after trying and failing to stage a coup and take over the kingdom. Max knew it was only a question of time before they tried again, and the thought alone scared him. 

He sighs, absentmindedly scratching at the scar on his side, the fading memory of the betrayal he had faced a year ago. The door to his office creaks, the sound deafening in the silent castle, and Max tenses, grip tightening on the letter opener he always left on his desk. It wasn’t much, but it would definitely buy him some time, and-

“Maxy? What are you doing here?”

He relaxes, tension seeping from his body. 

“Daniel. I-... I couldn’t sleep.” 

Daniel, his bodyguard, walks in the room, huffing, and finds an empty spot on the desk before sitting on it. The brunette had been hired by his council (after it had been purged of any and all traitors, of course) and, while Max had been irritated by the decision at first, he’s the first to admit that he’s glad to have Daniel watching his back, because the older knight is nothing if not thorough.

“Maxy, we talked about this,” The brunette sighs, and Max looks down, feeling like a scolded child. “I told you to let me know if you’re leaving your room. Especially at night.” 

“Sorry… I just- I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t want to bother you, and-” 

Daniel leans in, taking a hold of his jaw with gentle, albeit calloused fingers, effectively cutting him off.

“It’s my job to keep you safe, Max. I can’t do it if you don’t let me help.”

The king closes his eyes, exhaustion suddenly washing over him. He sways in his chair, missing the concerned frown on Daniel’s face.

“M sorry… There was- He was seen close to the border yesterday, and I couldn’t-”

Daniel makes a soft sound, letting go of him, and Max bites back the pathetic whine threatening to get past his lips. The brunette jumps off of the desk, his movements gracious, and he helps Max get up from his chair.

“Come on, your majesty. Let’s get you back to bed.”

The older guides him through the corridors, his arms tightly wrapped around Max, and he doesn’t let go until he tucks the blonde in bed, brushing the hair out of his forehead and pressing a kiss there. Max clutches at the brunette’s shirt as he takes a step back.

“Please-... Stay?”

Daniel chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to his forehead before climbing in the bed, settling behind Max, his arms wrapping protectively around the blonde’s waist. 

“Where else did you want me to go, darling?” 

Max hums, eyes fluttering shut. The whirlwind of thoughts that refused to let him sleep earlier has quieted, reduced to a small background noise, barely noticeable over the all encompassing feeling of safety and warmth that Daniel always made him feel. The brunette presses one last kiss to Max temple, rumbling softly. 

“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe.”

For once, Max can believe it, because Daniel had always, always kept him safe, and so he allows himself to finally drift asleep.

[spidercatweb]

Clean Hands ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: lots of description of blood, death (victim of an Unsub), gn!bau!reader, no y/n, hurt/comfort?? They hold hands :)

I thought of earlier seasons Spencer while writing this.. my beloved...

Word Count: 840

Description: A case takes a sad turn and reader helps Spencer clean up.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated! 💜

The abandoned building the team was searching had turned out to be exactly where the Unsub was hiding out with his latest victim. Morgan and Reid found the girl first. You and Prentiss found the Unsub and caught him just before he could escape the building. 

The girl, no older than seventeen, had been left to bleed out in a corner. The Unsub didn't have time to finish what he started when he heard the noise of multiple sets of footsteps and banging on doors. Reid rushed to the girl when he saw her, telling Morgan to go get help. He put pressure on the wound to try to stop the bleeding as Morgan called for medics.

"It's going to be okay, you'll be okay." He reassures the crying girl as she wanes in and out of consciousness. 

Blood. So much blood. It pools on the floor and mixes with the dirt and grime that had accumulated in the building over the years it had been abandoned. It seeps into Spencer's pants as he kneels next to the girl. His hands are soaked. He yells out to Morgan, asking once again for medics.

 "They'll be here soon, kid." Morgan knew what Spencer was thinking. 

"We don't have time. She'll bleed out in minutes. Come help me." His voice is panicked. Morgan rushes over and helps all he can. 

The medics don't arrive soon enough.

 "She's gone. I'm sorry." The paramedic pulls his hand away from the girl's pulse point with a sigh. Spencer stays, frozen. 

"Kid, come on. There's nothing we could do," Morgan urges him to get up. "If they'd gotten here sooner-" 

"I know, come on." Spencer slowly stands up from the upsetting scene, watery eyes still locked onto the girl. As he turns away, facing the door, he sees you and Prentiss walking in. Concern immediately washes over your face as your pace quickens, heading straight towards him. 

"Reid, what happened?" His mouth opens slightly, but he can't bring himself to speak. He looks over to the girl in the corner, who you hadn't noticed yet. The paramedics are already zipping her into a body bag. 

"Oh." A frown forms on your face as you look over to Morgan. He motions to Spencer with his head, which you understand as "he's upset, go with him."

"Reid, there's probably towels or something in the ambulance, want to come with me? I don't mind helping you clean up." You give him a small, comforting smile. He nods, "yeah. Yes please." 

When you're out of the building, the sunlight makes the contrast of the deep red blood and Spencer's pale skin and light blue shirt even more vivid. You reach one of the ambulances and ask the paramedics if they have anything that could help to clean up the blood. They hand you two small, white towels, and ask Spencer if he's hurt. He shakes his head. "No. I'm fine."

You help him clean the blood off his hands the best you can, gently wiping them off as he holds them out for you. Spencer's hands are still stained, and he'll definitely be throwing out this outfit. And taking a nice, long shower when he gets back to the hotel. But he's okay. Just a little shaken up. 

The team is done at the scene, the Unsub has been taken into custody, and everyone is ready to leave. Morgan drives and Prentiss takes the passenger seat, leaving you and Spencer in the back of the SUV. He's obviously uncomfortable. He has his hands palms facing up resting on his knees. He makes sure that none of the bloody fabric of his clothes touches any part of the car.  

"Reid, you okay back there?" Prentiss turns in her seat, facing him. 

"Fine. Just really need a shower. Trying not to think about how many diseases can be spread by blood contact."

 "Ooh. Yeah. Better not. You'll be fine." She gives him a quick smile and turns back towards the windshield. 

A few minutes pass. Prentiss and Morgan are wrapped up in their own conversation, arguing about something dumb. Spencer still looks very uncomfortable. He’s staring off into space and one of his legs is bouncing up and down. You turn to him, a soft, sad look on your face. Slowly, you hold a hand out between the two of you and look at him expectantly. He looks confused.

 "My hands aren't very clean. I don't want to get blood on you." 

"I don't care. I can wash my hands when we get back." You reach your hand closer to him. Hesitantly, he puts his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. You can see his face light up slightly, some of his worry dissolves with your help. 

The rest of the ride back to the hotel is quiet, save for Prentiss and Morgan's bickering. They drop the both of you off. You stay to help Spencer clean up. Prentiss and Morgan head back to the police station to wrap up the case.

Thank you for reading! Tell me what you thought! <3

[azacat-alias-lost]

I'm a silly little guy and have nothing better to do, so have a crossover au that I may turn into a fic, or another thing. POLL AT THE BOTTOM

~~~~~~~~~~

Picture this.

Jonathan Sims, just after the end of S2 of the Magnus Archives. He's been freshly framed for murder by his evil boss, and now the London police force is after him. Daisy Tonner is hunting him down, and she's got the whole force on her side. But get this. Another officer catches him and throws him in jail. Daisy, wanting him dead, is trying to convince people he doesn't deserve a trial. He gets one anyway, because, well, he kind of has to.

Jon, in the detention center. He's adamant that he did not kill that old man. No one can figure out who that old man is, and the fact that Jon seems to know something makes him way more suspicious. Martin visits him every day, and Jon's starting to realize that maybe, if he cares so much, he's not so bad. That's not going to do him much good, though, he's still in jail.

Jon, panicking. His trial is getting closer; only a few days left before he's assigned a lawyer, and if Daisy has anything to say about it, he'll get the shittiest one the city has. He knows he's as good as dead. He knows he'll lose. But he waits anyway. No one has given him any resources, but he waits anyway, one last spark of hope left in him, hope that maybe, because he knows he didn't do it, that will count for something.

Now, I want you to picture something else.

A young lawyer in a nice blue suit has just heard about a case that, for some reason or another (Eye influence), has made international news. He watches the segment, which features a sad, pathetic looking man who looks much older than he is. That guy couldn't have killed somebody, he thinks to himself, there's no way. And he gets a feeling in his gut that the only one who can prove the guy innocent is him.

Pan back to the jail cell. Jon is called out for a visit from Martin, and they get to discussing what he's going to do. Martin is apologizing, saying that he couldn't find a lawyer to take the case, saying that he wishes he could have done more. Jon is resigned to defeat at this point, and is thinking about pleading guilty, just to see if he can get a lesser sentence.

That is, until no-loss-recorded, young and hopeful, Mr. Missed Connections extraordinaire walks through the door.

Phoenix Wright, before anyone has the chance to ask him why he's there, says one thing.

"I'll take your case."

~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway, what do y'all think? I could either write a fic (less engaging but still fun and would take a lot less time) or make an objection.lol video case with custom sprites (much more time consuming but would be a really cool finished product). If I do the fic, I may do the video afterwards.

Which should I do first?

I'm very curious as to what gets chosen