#their big ol eyes have a second eyelid

[cloudofspacedust]

Here's a riv!

I wanted to make my design for them more unique than what I had been doing so here!

I really like the idea of having side frills that connect to the arms, as well as the axolotl tail. They have extra gills near their ribs as well!

Their general body shape is similar to an otter's because i like the shape and then also they are both water creatures. Also tiny ears because most water animals have short ears. kitty.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Would you do a second part of Damián x Cat!villain!reader? Or maybe something with a different plot, but I need it too much 😵‍💫

I don’t usually entertain part 2 asks but cause it’s you my adorkable Lucas, I shall. I’m adding the other boys and some wild cards for good measure.

tw/cw: yandere, dick’s part gives me major second hand embarrassment but maybe that’s a me issue, (implied) jason has seggs with your unconscious body (but it’s consensual). damian is aged up but still younger than reader hence the condescending way of speech the latter has for him.

ROOFTOP TALKS W/ THE BOYS

☁️ . . . w/ Dickie Boi

When you were dating it was a lot of you flirting and him asking you to be a bit more professional. And then you promptly reminding him that your profession is being a thief.

And that you were taking that profession seriously by stealing his heart.

Kisses in the rain were pretty much your guys’s thing. As much as your cat heart hated being wet.

When he became Nightwing and after Jason’s death, you guys didn’t break up immediately. Just fizzled out. Long talks about everything and anything became short greetings and small talk until you two officially ended it.

Nowadays Dick tries his hardest to get your attention, he shows off a lot. Ups the romanticness of it all. Brings you all around the city for dates before you two chill on your favorite spot.

Dick felt great. He just spent an entire night out on a date with his first love, some might argue that you’re his only true one too. You two haven’t been able to hang out due to the chaos of life and Jason. But finally he was able to have you for himself for once. No Tim to watch you two through the cameras (he made sure all of those were unavailable), no Damian to stalk you two within the shadows (it took a while, but he managed to convince the big ol’ bat to keep the youngest occupied), and no vigilante business he had to deal with.

There was just one last thing. A kiss. (He wanted sex, to feel you around him again. But considering you two just got back into the swing of things he was willing to wait)

He closed his eyes, and leaned forward.

Only to be met with air.

And then the ground.

“Uhm. Did you just — I mean I know I look cute tonight and all — but did you just try to kiss me, Grayson?” You had only managed to narrowly dodge the action. A little amused by the way he’s currently making out with the floor, but mostly confused and somewhat terrified.

Dick groaned, of all the things to put him on the ground this week. “I thought - I thought we were…”

You looked at him, blinked a few times, and managed to utter out, “Dude.”

☁️ . . . w/ Hubby Toddy

Imma be honest with you. You two bone 80-90% of the times you guys meet.

The only reason that it’s not 100% is because of the danger you two are in for that 10-20%

The vigilante/villain lifestyle and environment isn’t ideal for boning 24/7 y’know.

The reason why you guys fuck so often is cause Cat Villain! Reader being the menace they are only has to remind Jason that he died a virgin for you two to get down to business.

The Batboys are obsessed with proving themselves/ a point in general after all. So you often play them like a fiddle with just a few words.

Aside from that, a lot of your rooftop talks are you being snarky towards each other. Jason asking you to stop risking your life with heists and you vice versa with his vendetta.

Which usually leads to anger fucking but I digress.

You two often snack on the greasiest, unhealthy food while together.

Sometimes you spend hours talking about what he missed while he was gone. Of course he already knows everything. He kept tabs on you and whatnot. But hearing you speak gives him a sense of calm like no other.

Cuddling ftw. Jason adores enveloping you.

He likes doing stuff that proves that you exist?? Like that you’re next to him. That both of you are alive in that moment.

“‘M sleepy.” Your eyelids were beyond heavy at that point. Jason wanted you to be up for every single round, and it seemed like his stamina was endless.

Usually you’d pass out and he’d just continue getting off using you but that night he gave you a challenge. Something about wanting to see the way your pretty eyes as he ruined your insides.

“Too much action for you tonight, kit?”

“Mhm.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.” He shifted your body in a more secure position, wrapping his large arms around your form.

“Promise me you won’t disappear?”

“I’m here always.” He let out a deep breath.

As soon as he made sure you were out cold he continued,

“Not even death will keep me away from you, baby.”

☁️ . . . w/ Timsies Whimsies

Most of your hang outs are spent indoors

Otherwise it’d be you hovering over his shoulders as he works on his projects.

Most of your rooftop times with Tim are spent in silence, playing video games, or board games.

Sometimes you two would spend hours playing and voicing cheesy dating sims.

But sometimes you use the time to get him to sleep.

You two are very much opposites when it comes to sleep times. Like if we go full on cat mode here, you prolly sleep off like 70% of your life.

I really shouldn’t be writing this while I’m sleepy as hell shouldn’t I?

Tim had never slept so well in his entire life.

All he remembered before being lulled into dreamland was you singing, patting him on the head, and some laughter before everything went dark.

But now he wishes he never slept at all.

“Is this . . . an edit of us a kids—“

Tim slammed his laptop shut so hard he’s pretty sure he’d broken it.

You looked at him incredulously. How long had you been snooping through his stuff? How did you even manage to unlock it? He made sure it was inaccessible even to Bruce.

“I . . . I read this one fanfic . . . that we met as kids and grew up together.” He confessed.

Yes, Tim gets brainrots over [Cat Villain Name] x Reader / Red Robin fanfics. Could you blame him?

“Honestly that’s pretty cute and wholesome. The other things you have there on the other hand . . . “

“I’ll pay for all of your boba expenses for a year if you forget about this.”

“A decade and I’ll never look through your shit again.”

“Deal.”

☁️ . . . w/ Damie Baby

Up until recently your rooftop meetings have been an even more snarky version of Jason’s with less hatefucking more … hating.

While Dick is more extravagant with how he shows off. Damian is more on the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about I’m just this awesome’ side of the spectrum.

It took him a while to finally figure out that you being a menace is more of a facade if anything

And boy did it make him get a romantic boner when he found out

Like it went from you teasing him to hell and back to him turning the tables

“Wow, ain’t it past your bedtime, Damie?”

“Not my fault I can’t get a wink of sleep without you beside me.”

“. . .Ah.”

Aside from that you like roping him into playing games and basically all the things he missed out on being trained to be as an assassin.

He in turn does more traditional courting methods on you. Like buying you flowers, having slow dances.

Sometimes you do each other’s henna.

(He definitely is smug about it when other members of the batfam ask)

He often scolds you about reading so much late into the night…and insists he reads everything for you while you sit prettily on his lap

His favorite activity is running his hands through your hair as you lay your head on his lap while he dictates a book out loud. Usually it’s non fiction so that A) you’d sleep faster, and B) he gets his readings for uni in.

☁️ . . . w/ Bruce ig

“Hey, loser.” You purred, appearing from the underneath Batman’s cape.

Without a beat, he replied, “[Cat Villain Name].” and nothing else. He does not move. Doesn’t even make an attempt to seem affected by your antics.

“Awe, I missed you too!” You hugged him tightly and gave a pat for measure.

You were about to let when you felt a weight atop your head.

He was… giving you a headpat? Albeit awkwardly.“Who are you and what did you do to—“

“Treat them well.”

And he disappears.

Hey, wasn’t that your move?

In anycase,

It’s about time that Bruce learnt,

if you can’t beat em, join em.

[blueberryarchive]

The One Were Jungkook;

more slasher!jk

𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨; slasher, 80s, psychological horror

𝙩𝙬; heavy non-con, somnophilia, horror, violence, blood

(thank you to @hoseokshobagi for helping me with this big mess, I love u, shut up)

NY, 1985

The little ol' Brew House wasn't like the bar you went to with Jimin. It was so small that you could feel the sweat running down your back, the ghost of a hand or a glance behind you with every step. There was a sour smell of old, dried beer on the rustic green furniture and freshly disinfected vomit in the corner where Jungkook motioned for you to sit.

"Sit down, don't move."

You climbed onto the cracked brown leather stool, your bare thighs sticking to it like Velcro. A band was playing Iron Man on the other side and it was so uncoordinated that it matched the people sitting there: middle-aged men in blue-collar jobs, women in black leather skirts and foreign students with little money, underworld poets and their upper class girlfriends living the fantasy of muses sitting one their boyfriend's thighs while they discussed Bob Dylan and Williams Burroughs. A green and brown amalgam of sweaty skin drinking warm beer and watered down whiskey.

You couldn't help but compare both places.

Sweaty Joe's was a bar just two corners from the university, it was bathed in colored lights and posters as old as the owners of the place themselves. Red leather sofas were distributed in the corners and those, for years, have belonged to the Maroon Knights players.

This is where you met Jimin, it was your first week and you and Bobby Joe decided to have a beer, you two were new, smiled candidly at each gentleman who offered you another drink. You had never done that in the small town where you came from.

Jimin was celebrating his first winter tournament, his crimson cheekbones and his elegant smile conquered your heart, he let you sleep in his room in the trailer where he lived with his four brothers. His hands never took yours without first asking you, never looked away. You fell asleep so quickly in that bed while the little snores of the quaterback kept you stable, safe.

At dawn, you couldn't even see his face, you spent a week avoiding the hallways where he frequented until you did what your mother did to apologize to people: you baked some cookies. Unfortunately, he was on a diet but he still accepted them, his younger brother would eat them all with pleasure, you offered him a kiss and he let himself go.

That afternoon you lost your virginity behind his secong-hand orange Pontiac, white cotton panties crumpled and drooled between your teeth as Jimin held your calves. You cried so much that he forgot to moan, but your boyfriend wiped away each tear with his wet tongue and his thumbs until his cum fell thickly onto your skirt and his uniform.

The second time was different. What you don't know is that you cooking for him lit a spark, a simple breeze in a dry forest and you were the summer sun. You were going to be his wife, he promised you, with drooping eyelids and your pelvis on top of a pillow, his hands guiding your ass until they collided with his waist.

“I'm going to make you mine, I'm going to buy you a house and a huge ring. Fuck—you’re going to have to stop me at some point because I’m going to get you pregnant every time you smile at me, love. Doesn't Ms. Park have a ring to it?" He growled grabbing your hair to pull you closer to his sweaty chest.

“What is that pretty head of yours thinking about, huh?” Jungkook snapped his fingers at you, placing a long mug of beer in front of you. The second cigarette of the afternoon dangled between his fingers as he waited for you to take a drink, his eyes darting from your chest to your hair. “I saw you look at the ring on your finger.”

“My boyfriend gave it to me a month ago.” You said fixing the thin silver ring, a promise desperate to be fulfilled.

“How very” The boy laughed, choking on the smoke, you held the beer and took a long drink.

You realized that men when they exist in a cloud of promises and anonymity are more fuckable, because now seeing the metalhead in front of you, you just wanted to hit him.

“I don't understand why you keep yapping when you're not here to hear me speak.”

“I didn't want us to move on to fucking so quickly, but if you can't wait, then we'll make a little something in the alley.” Seeing your face blush he laughed again. “I'm kidding, doll. Don’t be so rigid.”

With a whistle, Jeon effortlessly caught the eye of a man nearby. His muscles were noticeably defined, and he sported a pair of square glasses that added a touch of charm. Dressed in a casual plaid shirt, his hair styled like a military man. Spotting Jeon, his face lit up with recognition, and he quickly closed the distance between you.

“Kim, I thought you weren't coming to the meeting.” Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of the man's slight tensing as his friend spoke, but without skipping a beat, his hand gently landed on his friend's shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"You literally said-"

"No, I didn't. Gosh, give me a break."

Hoseok looked in your direction with a hint of distrust, the creases on his face sharpening with each step you took. You walked closer, his eyes traced your body from head to toe, his initial skepticism fading away the moment he reached your side. Your little shorts and Wham! t-shirt hugged your curves tightly, clinging to your tits like a sculpture of marble.

"What's this?" Hoseok pointed at you and moved his fingers up and down.

"Come, I want to introduce you to my friend. We met in…" Jungkook's smile widened as he tilted his hand. “Well, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you have to make a place for her in the club, wouldn't you gladly have one of the sweetest pieces of meat of the whole faculty on the team, eh?”

Jungkook looked in your direction again, he knew that the way he spoke caused tremendous disgust in you and he enjoyed it. “This is Hoseok, the president of the archery club. Greet him before he hates you for some reason.”

"Shut up." Hoseok's voice cut through the air as he extended his arm to shake yours, his calloused hand brushing against your skin. His sharp eyes studied your hands intently, examining every detail. "You got weird fingers."

"Is that how you give compliments to pretty girls?"

Hoseok let out a sigh, nonchalantly plucking the cigarette from Jungkook's mouth. With a subtle gesture, he motioned for his friend to approach while bringing the cigarette to his own lips.

“If you want to fuck one of the cheerleaders, find another way, I'm not going to put her in the club, dude.” His failed attempt at whispering, which was clearly intentional, didn't escape your ears.

“Do you think I have to fuck one of you to be part of your Disney Heroe theatre team?”

Hoseok's eyebrow arched, while leaning back against the bar stool. With a confident yet subtle sway, he adjusted his posture, his pelvis shifting ever so slightly, but still managing to catch your eye. A mischievous grin formed on one side of his lips, knowing full well of the effect he had on you. “And why the hell are you looking for me if you don't need me, Barbie?"

"I'm here to let you know that I'll be waiting for you in the green area on Monday at 3, expecting you to hand me a bow and arrow," You declared, a sweet smile playing on your lips like a precious jewel shimmering beneath a cloak of innocence as you deftly snatched the cigarette from between his parted lips. "And I hope you show up with a smile that could outshine the sun and a more decent cologne."

Hoseok scoffed with raised eyebrows, clearly unimpressed by your little rebel talk as you took a drag from his stolen cigarette.

"You do realize you'll be the only woman in the group, right? The guys ain't going to like you, they tend to be very…"

"Terrified of women," Jeon chimed in, leaning against your shoulder.

"Exclusive," Hoseok added.

"They'll probably do a jerk-off circle if they see me in a skirt." You quipped, a sly smile playing on your lips.

The three of you looked at the cubicle where the a few memebers sat, all upper class kids who couldn't get into anything in their lives without Mommy opening the door for them first.

“Whatever, you're not even that hot, they'll live.”

You smiled, turning around on your stool to continue drinking your beer. “See you on Monday, four eyes.”

“Bye, Hobi-Bobby.” Jungkook rested his arm on the bar, his eyes positioned on your profile.

“Do you want to fuck now? I love women who know how to silence men, i'm already hard.”

"Why are you so fucking disgusting?"

"You're the one sitting next to me, you can go now." And he waited. You stayed there, speechless and waiting, too.

"Kim?"

"Who?"

“The dickhead called you Kim.”

“I don't know who that is, sweetheart.”

“Mm.” You nodded. You weren't too sure now. “Are you sure you're the one I talked to that night?”

"I promise you." Jungkook dragged his stool closer to your ear, the smell of nicotine and shaving cream was pleasant, manly. "Are those sugar tits as sweet as that voice of yours?"

“What time did I call you?” You ignored his nutty breath.

“Are you questioning me now?”

"Yeah."

His jaw tensed, biting the inside of his cheeks.

“I'm going to give you some advice, doll. If you want things to go well today, don't question me.”

You felt a rush cover your back, the beer felt colder on your fingers and you were more aware of his proximity. You were in his territory, you didn't know anyone there, you were screwed.

“Can you answer me just one thing and that's it?”

Jungkook moved closer and nodded, his pupils stabbing at your lips waiting for you to say something out of line so he would have an excuse to destroy you with.

“Why do people think you are weird?”

His sigh collided with your neck, a smile woven little by little; you could see stars in his eyes when he moved back. The raw desire to show you why.

He leaned close to your ear and whispered slowly, the urge to laugh drowned out by his words. Both his hands hiding his lips like a child. You swallowed as you finished listening, a long drink to finish the remaining beer.

He pulled out a new cigarette before your eyes met his again.

“So, in your room or mine?” He mumbled before lightning the tip.

“I'm- I think I'm going home.”

"Isn't your home in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, you silly little bun'?"

The man in front of you pouted, nodding with a dejected face when he saw you stand up, the large mug of beer hitting your trembling anatomy. You wanted to vomit, to shed your own skin to pieces, to vanish, to crawl along the road back home like a mass of nerves and to sleep in your bed until you forgot what this psychopath had just hummed in your ear in the middle of the crowd.

But what did you expect? Wasn't this what you were looking for?

That's why curiosity ends up being the cruelest animal feeling. It takes you to the cheese on top of the trap, it makes you look at the sun and go blind, it makes you run through the grass until you fall at the bottom of nowhere. Voices like Jungkook's end up taking you to a seedy bar, at the mercy of God if he is even allowed in these parts.

“Come on, I'll take the bike down for you, then.”

You grabbed your backpack and walked in front of Jeon, stares like needles digging into your shorts.

Outside, his arms stretched out to take the bicycle, as light as a feather.

“I would've take you to college but-”

“I think this is where our journey ends, Jungkook.” Your voice was firm, elegant. You knew when to say goodbye.

He remained silent, one last smile as a gift. "If you say so." His hands opened dramatically to show you the road.

You raised your leg until you sat down and accelerated down the street, the sun hiding on the horizon. You didn't know if it was the wind hitting your cheeks and eyes, but you felt the cold stream go down to your neck. You wanted the road to get shorter in front of you and suddenly you were crying like a lost child, the sharp exhale stinging your lungs, you took all the alleys you recognized and the ones you didn't and you looked around at the desolate sides of New York.

Hiding from the sun your skin grew cold and the sobs turned to murmurs praying that you would return alive to the arms of Steph or Bobby Joe.

But oh, how angelic you looked with the halo of Jungkook's car headlights on your back. A honk chilled your blood until you couldn't do anything but grip the handlebars until your knuckles turned white.

“I changed my mind, I'll take you.” His breathing was jagged, he was sweating deeply, swallowing hard to hide the psychosis.

“It won't be long now and my boyfriend is waiting for me.”

“Don't worry, just load the bike and I'll drop you off at his house.”

'No' was not an answer and you knew that, no one ever said no to him. And if they did no woman managed to keep her tongue to say it.

"Roger that. Thank you, Jungkook, you are a gentleman.”

“Of course, get off the bike now.” He muttered as he snatched the iron from your hands and threw it behind his vehicle.

The trip was lethargic, the music faltered in the car with each curve until you reached a neighborhood of white houses and yellowish lights, the crickets chirped in the safe silence of a suburb. You thought about getting out when the car stopped and screaming until your lungs vomited.

But of course, when you arrived the garage door was open, the car slid across the smooth concrete without a sound.

“Do you mind if I look for a few things before I take you home?” His voice sounded so carefree that you almost believed you were going back to your dorm room. You shook your head as he went down to close the garage door, the darkness consuming your hope.

Your heart began to beat blood so fast that your hands began to try to open your door, Jungkook tilted his head at the noise until he saw your reflection in the side mirror.

"Why you do that? God, you’re so stupid.” Jungkook took your hair in his hands and without much effort dragged you out of the vehicle and onto the garage floor. His hand covered your mouth, his calloused and sweaty fingers undoing the button on your Levi's until they stuck to your ankles.

“It's only once, you have to reward me for the beer you had, you know?” His voice burned in your ear along with the beating of your heart, a light hum of your soul trying to get away from your dirty body.

“Mm-” You groaned as you felt the fabric of his jeans mold between your ass. Moving was in vain, fighting a mere fantasy.

“Just a quickie and then I'll drop you off, don't be so rigid.”

Your body was puppeteered to the living room with dim lights, curved and modern furniture that someone paid great attention to match with the upholstery and the carpet that decorated the floor.

And your body was thrown to the edge of the pink couch, the metal underneath the cloth digging into your stomach, your ass in the air as you felt cold hands remove your underwear. Why weren't you moving? Why did you let this happen to you? What was your mom doing right now? You thought of her chubby body moving around her room while organizing her dresses, folding the flowery pieces and tucking in it away in her closet. Peacefully humming gospel songs.

Warm spit fell onto your pussy and you closed your eyes, the last tear creating a shadow on the corrugated carpet as Jungkook slid his cock around the entrance to wet the entire area. The phone rang five, six, ten times next to you. Beep.

Hello, you are calling the sweet home of Bee, Dr. Kim and Taehyung. We are on vacation in Florida, but when we arrive we will take your message. Bye bye!

Who were the animated voices humming on the phone and why was Jungkook's voice there? You looked at the stranger loosening his grip on the sudden crackling laughter coming from the small speaker on the phone.

"Fuck." The now stranger mumbled, holding your neck with his forearm.

"You got the wrong kid, callgirl." And your eyes opened like a full moon, you looked at the closed windows of the room. “Taehyung, you have ten to hide.”

"Shit." Taehyung whimpered behind you pushing your body to the ground, instinctively you grabbed his leg causing his body to fall to the ground next to yours.

If you were going to die today, you wouldn't do it alone.

"Five, six…"

“What the fuck are you doing, you fucking whore?! I will die if he finds me.” His reddened face dragged trying to take your sudden weight and strength off of him. It was useless. Black Sabbath began to play above the house, reverberating, like thousands of wasps between the walls. “I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please. Let me go."

Taehyung's head reached the kitchen when a worn military boot stopped his movements. The muddy sole of the boot collided with Taehyung's head, making it bounce again and again and again against the wood of the kitchen. It was a hollow, wet sound, more forceful with each blow.

You leaned your body back until you collided with the sofa, your nails anchored in the carpet.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, ple-” Taehyung tried to speak until the boot took the last hit and his jaw hung from his mouth like a toy. His eyes looked back with mercy. Run, he shouted to you with his bleeding eyes, run until you die but run. A broomstick passed through his mouth until his body bounced once more. And then...

So still.

Drool was falling from the corners from having your mouth open for so long. Why didn't you run? Is it that the boot you were looking for so long? Was the cruelty of being curious true?

An excessively tall figure passed through the kitchen frame, avoiding Taehyung's lifeless body. Black was the first thing you saw: the dirty jeans, the leather jacket tied around his waist, the Motley Crue tank top pressing against his chest and shoulders. Sweat dripped from his mullet to his tattoos.

His face, soft and covered in red. His oval nose and thin lips, eyes like a dead deer. Metal surrounding the room like the choir of fallen angels.

It was him, it was Jungkook.

“Poor little thing.” He licked his lips as he held your chin so you were looking at him. “Look at you, so afraid of that fucking-” he growled under his breath, getting down to your level.

"Please don't kill me." You cried, the air was thick, like sulfur around him.

“I didn't promise you that in the call, baby. Did you forget already?"

His hands were delicate under your armpits until he lifted you up and took your body to the furniture sitting you on top of his wide thighs. Your body looking at the turned off television, the curved reflection showed the difference in size. You were a doll on top of that beast.

“Put your foot up.” He ordered as he grabbed your knee to help you put on your Levi's with the softness of a creature in feather hands. "Stop crying."

“I can't, I'm too scared, I want to go home.”

"Pity." Jungkook sighed, taking your underwear from his jeans, wet with some chemical. His tattooed fingers took the flimsy cotton to your nose. Bitter at first and then it burned in your lungs. “Don't try to fight it, it'll be worse for you, baby. Atta girl, just let go, inhale.” His voice was serious, unharmed, like an anesthetic just like the clorophorm. There was no harm in closing your eyes if you were in the great hands of a beast, a mammoth.

"I like you girls manageable, stupid." Was the last thing you heard, a smile grazing your neck.

Your body rose without permission, abrupt. The pain was immeasurable.

“Jimin, she's up!” You heard a small voice in the corner of a familiar room, the sheets rough and thick.

The silhouette of Jimin's younger brother ran to the kitchen. The other two brothers approached the door, their blond heads peeking out. Jimin pushed them until he reached you.

“Hyung-”

“Shut the door, JP. I’m sick of you, just eat your fucking breakfast and get out of the house.” Jimin shouted, looking at his brothers out of the corner of his eye.

The slow footsteps receded and Jimin turned his attention to you.

“Love, no, don't cry. I'm here.”

His name fell from your lips desperately as you squeezed his face, consuming every detail so your body knew it was real and wouldn't squirm like a worm.

“Breathe with me, come on.”

You closed your eyes hugging your boyfriend's neck.

“Come on, I've prepared a hot bath for you in the twins' room.” You shook your head frantically without breaking away. “It's just to get the mud off your body, then we'll go back to bed.”

"Mud?"

“Minjun found you outside this morning, do you know where you were last night, who did this to you?”

You grabbed the sheets and uncovered your body, bruises covering your legs and stomach. The dried mud covering the sheets of Jimin's bed. A scream choked in your throat.

“Its okay, I can change the sheets. Don’t worry about that. Let's go champ, up.” Jimin patted your injured thigh so you would chain your legs around his abdomen. With a grunt, Jimin lifted you up and carried you to a makeshift tub of hot water.

The little beds were together on one side of the small room, a metal tub emanating sweet steam covering the walls of the room in a thin web of drops.

“Raise your arms.” Jimin kissed your neck gently, the nausea returning little by little but you just let your body melt in the arms of the only person who mattered. His eyes shone with the concern of a father, he undressed you as quickly as possible so that the bruises didn't have time to hurt. Reaching your shorts, he knelt in front of you and stared at your tired face.

“I shouldn't have gone to the bar last night.” He wavered his speech for a second as he slowly lowered the zipper.

“Shh.” Your hand fell into his messy hair, he was still wearing his pajamas, what time did Jungkook throw you in front of Jimin's trailer?

The silence became strange, different. You didn't understand Jimin's sudden furrowed eyebrows when he took off your Levi's.

“Minnie?”

“Motherf-” Jimin stood up and hit the wall hard. His body turned around until he was looking at the jeans on the floor again. “That's it, I'm calling Yoongi.”

"What? Yoongi, what for? Minnie, don't leave, please."

"Don't move!"

Your boyfriend disappeared from the room before you asked him what was happening. You sighed with a heavy heart as you walked in pain to the mirror on the wall: a wide, slimy stain extended from front to back of your panties, hickies covered your stomach. The pants fell to the floor and you went to the mirror on the wall.

Your trembling finger curved until you felt the hole between your legs, the whitish and salty cum thread stretched from your entrance to your shocked face.

You don't remember Taehyung penetrating you. Was Jungkook such an animal that he came inside while you were passed out? How could he?

Tears gathered in your eyes as you laughed silently, the pain was unbearable around your waist and legs, pussy still numb and you could only remember the patterns on the carpet.

Cruel curiosity.

[optimist-pine]

Snow

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: It snowed, and the brilliant beauty of it created this drabble.

Era: Between seasons 2 & 3, on the move

The sparkling grass crunched under every step of your boots. Frost coated the ground as far as the eye could see, shimmering in the fresh morning's sun. You inhaled, long and deep, the sharp sting of cold wintry air assaulting the back of your throat.

Complete contentment washed over you, the scent of a blank slate filled your lungs and your eyelids fluttered shut with the feeling. So quiet was the world in a moment like this. You would stretch it as long as you possibly could, soaking in every minute detail.

Like the way the breeze rustled your hair and slipped down the back of your coat, cooling the sweat that had built against your skin. Or how the silence only amplified the birdsong and made it echo and pulse. The nearby stream, half frozen as it was, made it as melodic as a garden full of windchimes.

A soft crunch turns into faint footsteps and you return to the world once again, a puff of air billowing out from the sigh that escapes your lips.

"Ya finished?" Daryl asks. His voice is soft and it causes a swell of gratitude to rise within you. Without fail, he graciously gives you these moments to shut off every thought and just simply feel that you're alive. To know so deeply within yourself that the world isn't dead, but instead is thrumming with life in overflowing abundance. It's not just a possibility, it's true and real and so are you.

"You smell that?" Your ask in a hallowed whisper. Your hands lift themselves outstretched at your sides, fingers opened to the sky.

You don't see, but he's watching you curiously. He would most absolutely never admit it, but he secretly savors the moments when this invisible switch flips in you. When your heart practically writes itself on your sleeve and you suddenly appear to be overwhelmingly in love with life itself. How it pours out of you so intensely that he can feel it too. How he inexplicably craves it. How no greater desire exists within him. "Hm?" He responds distractedly.

"Snow." You say simply. And the exact moment you open your eyes is when the flakes begin to fall. At first they're only tiny little pellets, just enough to claim that it's actively snowing. But it doesn't take long for the grey sky to let loose and soon the flakes are large and fluffy and you could swear that God just shook up a snow globe somewhere above.

You do a little spin, sticking your tongue out in pure joy. The flakes are beginning to cover you, collecting on your hair and eyelashes, and the ground is growing whiter by the second. "It's beautiful." You laugh.

A small thought nags at the back of Daryl's mind that the two of you should be getting back to the rest with your catch. But as he watches you, as he studies designs of the flakes on his glove that have yet to melt, he decides that will just have to wait.

And he'd die if you told anyone, but on the way back, when he can no longer put up with your relentless teasing, he finally succumbs and holds his own tongue up to the flurry. He's sure to follow it up with the idle threat, "Ya tell anyone an' I'll kill ya."

Amusement palpably rolling off you, you respond, "Yeah, yeah, ya big ol' softie." The look on his face causing you to laugh on and off the entire way back. There's no way you're sharing the memory with anyone else, maybe it's selfish, but this one's all yours.

[blurrymango]

Sapheans! Yippee! Ok so. Basically I kinda rip-offed Homestuck trolls lol sue me.

So-

These motherffuckers live on a really huge and damn dangerous planet with two suns and mostly hostile creatures. There's a lot of wild and different types of climates. The water is acidic, the clouds are extremely dense, and plants are also very dangerous. Yet though, these ffuckers seem to be the only sentient bitches on the whole damn orb.

There's a lot of racism ffucking obviously but it's coming from all sides. But there's also a lot of love. Their societies range from spiraling nauseatingly tall clusters of buildings to two dudes on an island and everywhere in between.

General design notes, mostly coloration wise y'know-

Their blood can be ANY color, but shades are specific to different type. And blood color determines hair(or feather) color, eye color, fins, marking color, and antenna and whatnot. I just used red and blue and green for examples it is not limited.

Pointy parts for. Well. Protection.

The parts colored as black act as kinda like an exoskeleton, though in general their skin is pretty tough, especially the face, and especially the face fangs.

Can generally have any shape horns, they come in all shapes and sizes.

Pretty much every single one has different markings.

Clothes. Are... A thing. Yes. They wear clothes actually lol.

More joints in their legs than humans have.

Yes they can dye their hair and paint their markings different colors.

There are ghosts! This species exists in a world with magics and supernatural elements and whatnot.

Ok so. Shit I have for them at the current moment.

Land-

Majority.

Their blood is generally mid-tone, skin grey, darker in warmer areas, lighter in colder.

Good hands, feet, and tail for grabbing things.

Two horns. One set of horns. However you put it. They use them bitches for navigation and farming and electricity. And of course murder.

Sea-

Second most uncommon.

No noses we don't do that in the ocean.

Bitches be in acidic ffucking water.

Their blood is generally bright and neon, skin can range anywhere from super light grey to super dark grey depending on how deep they are.

One horn, generally. Used for controlling the water. And of course murder.

Webbed hands and feet and a second set of eyelids.

Deeper you get, the freakier they can be TBH.

Underground-

Second most common.

Smaller eyes than average DUH. They ain't using them for much.

Antennas! ANTENNAS.

Two pronged horns. Or even rarer, two sets of horns. Used for searching out minerals and rare rocks and and lava and entrances and exits to caves. And of course murder.

Hands and feet good for digging through dirt or the toughest of rock.

Feelers on the face and a long slender tail good for reaching into cracks and crevices.

Blood is pale and dull like their skin.

Sky-

Uncommon.

Feathers, not hair.

Big ol wings.

Less leg joints than the others, makes them less bulky.

Big ol eyes for absorbing all the sunlight they get.

Thinner and longer fingers and toes than others, again, to be less bulky.

Horns used to control the weather. And of course murder.

Skin is dark, cuz of the sun. Blood is dark too.

Possible mutations-

Pictured is a land dweller with bat-like wings. It is a rare trait to have, but also they can actually fly.

Blood shade that doesn't match the type.

Abnormal amount of horns for type, including no horns at all.

Two different blood colors in one guy. They do not blend. This affects eyes and hair and markings.

Pupils.

Black or white blood? Nah that's just a myth. Right? Lmao.

Various other tidbits of mixings and matchings of traits, like gills on a land dweller or antenna on a sky dweller.

That's all for now folks! If anyone sees this and cares enough to make their own Saphean character I would be absolutely delighted!

[ellytraoflight]

this is a remix of the My Last Life AU by @opera25 ​! In which: Bdubs, thrown into a death game and plotting murder in a snow fort, dreams of normal life with his best friend. A life which consists of cats, coffee, and an apartment that’s broken but not cold.

~

The walls shudder as Bdubs slams the front door. A mistake, he realizes belatedly—their window’s still broken, and they can’t afford to damage the structural integrity of their apartment more than it already is. They’d called the landlord weeks ago, and still nothing!

“Rough day?” A voice calls from the room to the right.

“Ha!” Bdubs scoffs. “As if I have rough days!” Bdubs lets his bag drop onto the footstool—god, he’s tired.

“You didn’t come in shouting, ‘Honey, I’m home!’” A laptop closes. Bdubs turns to see Etho poking his head out the doorway, eyebrows raised in inquiry.

“It’s just the usual,” Bdubs sighs. No cat in the chair. He sits down in relief, couch creaking as it takes his weight. “Work. I probably can’t be late anytime soon, though.”

Etho hums in acknowledgement, and the weight on the couch shifts as he joins Bdubs. “Well, I’d hate to see them rob you of your beauty sleep.”

“Hey, I need my sleep! Sleep is very important!”

“Sure, Bdubs.”

“It is!” Bdubs finds himself relaxing into the usual banter. It’s enough to take his mind off the fact that he can’t control if or when his car is going to break down again. “How do you feel about bumping movie night up to tonight?”

“Uh…” Etho squints in a way Bdubs knows to mean he’s checking his mental schedule. “Yep, that works. Want to order pi— shoot.”

“What?”

“I forgot to feed Pineapple Pizza.”

Bdubs cackles. His feet are still sore when he stands back up on them, and he stretches, feeling his back pop. “I’ll feed her, you order pizza tonight. And that means you’re paying!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Etho huffs as he pulls out his phone.

The steps are routine: a few spoonfuls of wet cat food into Pineapple Pizza’s bowl, and he lets her eat the extras off the spoon when she begs for it. Pulling down the projector screen, Etho moves to set up the movie on his laptop. He piles the blankets onto the couch and buries himself beneath them—and steals the mossy one from Etho, of course.

Etho always wears the exact same expression every time Bdubs pulls this move: brows up, eyes blown wide, like every time is the first; like he can’t believe the audacity Bdubs has to steal his most precious possession.

“That’s the best one!”

“And I took it, fair and square!”

It really is unfortunate that they both have the same favorite blanket. Etho likes the blanket because it’s green. Bdubs likes it because it’s funnier when Etho doesn’t have it.

A hint of a grin in the crinkle of Etho’s eyes is all the warning Bdubs has before the blanket is yanked from Bdubs’ grip.

“Hey!” Bdubs shouts, cold and blanket-less. “Give it back!”

“Finders keepers,” Etho smirks, “losers weepers.”

Bdubs curls up on the edge of the couch, attempting to look as cold and blanket-less as possible. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he hears Etho sigh as he drapes the blanket over him once again.

“Alright,” Etho says as he settles under the other end of the blanket, which is perfectly big enough for both of them, “are we continuing our run of ‘The Office’?”

“Psh, of course.”

Bdubs feels his eyelids get heavy on the second episode, after the pizza is consumed and the plates disposed of. He’s never understood how Etho can stay awake forever if he wants to—once it’s past 10, ol’ Bdubs is out like a light. It helps that the projector screen shines just dim enough, the volume just soft enough, Etho’s snarky comments familiar enough for him to shut his eyes for a second or two, his head falling to the side. He has to be up early tomorrow, but tomorrow is a long time away, and he keeps forcing himself awake to savor the moment a little bit longer. Awake, awake—

Bdubs opens his eyes with an axe two inches from his face.

He screams, flailing back to get away get away. The world twists as he loses balance, his legs tangled in the blanket, and he’s falling— arm grasping for the armrest— what the hell—

“Aw, the Sleeping Beauty is finally awake!” cheers his intruder. The sunlight glints off his tactical gear, off his bandana, off his freshly-sharpened axe.

“I’ve been awake!” The adrenaline kicks in fast, and Bdubs’ eyes dart around the room—windows are sealed, door locked. Limbs tangled in the woolen sheets, not a hint of green in sight. “I knew about that the whole time, I was just testing you!”

“Uh-huh,” Etho says. He hangs his sharpened axe back on his belt, where it sits like an omen. He sits down on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, and Bdubs is breathing but it feels like there’s no air in his lungs. Which week is it? He can’t quite recollect Etho’s placement on The List this time, which is— bad. Very bad.

“I saw Scar going down the mines this morning,” Etho continues. “I think Magical Mountain could use a little de-magicifying.”

“Yeah,” snarks Bdubs, “A man of science, of course.” Scar falls about… mid-to-high on The List, from what he can recall, based on a comment from Skizz that the self-proclaimed wizard had been gathering lava two nights ago. It’s enough to justify an excursion to Magical Mountain. 

“You know me.”

“Hm.” Bdubs pulls on his chestplate, helmet, leggings, and boots. Hesitating, he glances out the corner of his eye, but— no, Etho’s looking out the window, as far as he can tell. He slips a dagger into his left boot. “Do you think he gives out free samples? Like the ones from Costco?”

Etho cocks his head. “Costco?”

“Nevermind.” Bdubs rifles through the barrel for his bow. Gosh, carrying all these arrows is awful. Maybe if Scar has the Enchanter, they can steal an Infinity enchant—if not the Enchanter itself.

In the morning sun, Etho’s shadow grows long. It poses on the far wall. “You’ve been sleeping in a lot, lately. Even more than usual.”

“Tracking my sleep, now? What are you, some sort of creep?” Bdubs almost reaches out to shove Etho as he heads out the door. He re-routes his momentum to grasp the curtains shut instead. Stupid dreams, with their stupid memories and stupid impulses they implant in his mind.

Etho cackles, “Of course not. I’d hate to see you robbed of your beauty sleep,” and Bdubs freezes under the sudden déjà vu. Before he can fully blink away the visions—memories, dreams, whatever—Etho turns and marches out the door without a backwards glance.

The back is the weakest point, and time is of the essence.

“Yeah, well.” Bdubs doesn’t reach down to his dagger, or his axe, or his bow. Bdubs follows Etho out of the snow fort to murder a man and pillage his home. “They’ve been good dreams.”

[thetrgger]

One of my teachers, a really cool and interesting guy, once said that, if you had an idea, and someone else did that, then it was never yours. An idea is yours if you think it and go as far as you can with making it real. That is when it is your idea. And I don't know how to make games, especially not on the level I think this idea deserves to be made on, but I do have the idea, and I've thought on how to theoretically make it, though I am sure that counts for little. Anyways, here it is: A horror game based on the idea of superposition, where something can be in multiple states until measured. In this case, it is the (what I'll refer to as) monster that is in superposition, in multiple locations at once, perhaps in different forms as well. I never liked the overused horror monster that could only kill when not looked at, so I turned it on its head. Now we have a monster, created by the classic human meddling with space-time, that you must absolutely not look at it. Measure it with thine eyes, and it will be there, and it will see you as you see it, and boy does it want you dead. You'll have to go through the tight halls of a wrecked Research Centre™ as well as disturbingly large rooms, and in a place as ruined as this, you best watch your step, or meet your end at something as boring as sharp debris, falls or inconveniently positioned equipment.

What was the reason for all this science mumbo jumbo that lead to this creature? Why, the search for immortality of course. If you could exist in multiple states at one time, it would not matter if you died once, you have more states to live in that are perfectly fine. Except whoever greenlit this project probably didn't consider the consequences of using death-row inmates as test subjects, and skipping any animals. The result was a "human", born a big ol' murderer, that had their atoms flung around a tad too much and now they resemble that of a blended squirrel without the fur and double the terror. And this stuff was in prototype phase, so each and every state of the poor buddy is gonna be uniquely screwed up. Maybe they have about fifty six eyes too many and they really don't appreciate not having any eyelids... That or the pain of being a flesh creature with too many views of one ugly idiot staring at them. Maybe they're blinder than the genetical defect of a child between a mole and a bat with the hearing of Mr. Krabs when the cash register goes off, and god are your footsteps loud and annoying (but, you know, also the immeasurable pain of being a creature like that.) I think you get the idea. Don't worry, they won't stay put even if they want to though, being a "living" creature in superposition is not your average Tuesday (the canonical day this would take place) and their states just kinda float around when not observed. Maybe the freaky, breathing blob of skin is on the 4th floor one moment, but the other, it is two feet to your left.

Oh, but of course, you want to GET OUT of the terrifying and dangerous ruin, yeah, I forgot about that tidbit. How do you do that? Well, this wasn't your run of the mill Bachelors students doing a group project, the Government��� was all over this and made sure it was the number one top secret. Only people who knew worked in the place itself, or at least resided there, and they did not fancy any easy access, so you gotta go against some big ol' doors, buddy.

Now gimme a second to decide where this takes place geographically. Okay, did some wheel spinning, picked a country from every continent plus one from the entire world, and the mix of all these is gonna be what this country is gonna be like: Europe, Estonia; Asia, Armenia; Africa, Tunisia; North America, Grenada; South America, Bolivia; Oceania, Nauru and all countries, Netherlands. Okay, so let's say they have the language of Estonia, architecture of Armenia, food of Tunisia, people of Grenada, geography and nature and terrain and stuff of Bolivia, history of Nauru and general influences on all parts from Netherlands. Credit to random wheel jr.

Oh and there's also Martin. Martin is just chilling. The whole superposition thing worked perfectly on him, he wasn't even supposed to be on death row, got framed by accident (he doesn't mind.) He just exists all over the world. Maybe you see Martin, he says hello, asks how your day is, that stuff. Come back the next day and he isn't there, but don't worry, one of him will float back around to you one day. He just chills, nothing much. No pain, no anger, no nothing. Just a cool guy. Scared of the water, but otherwise unperturbed, just carries on existing.

[ronniescribbles]

Rest Now, Roo (Hope Day)

Sniper x Little!Reader

Rainbow Week 2022 (created by @whimsycreator)

585 Words 

“It’s okay to feel sad sometimes, as long as you keep hope.” – Cuddles with Sniper are the perfect way to end an otherwise horrible day.

You can read it on AO3 here! 

A/N: Day 5 is here, woop woop! I have a tendency to write hurt/comfort with Sniper.. probably because he's a big ol sweetheart and I want him to hold me😅 

Currently, you were held in between Sniper's legs, with your legs wrapped around him to cling onto him tighter. You barely felt him faintly rubbing circles into your back; the last thing he wanted to do was upset you further, and admittedly, he was terrified that any sudden moves would only wind you up even more. 

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

Tears streamed down your reddened face, pressed as flush against Sniper's chest as you could manage. This week had really tested you, so the moment you were able to be alone with him, the floodgates crashed open. Luckily, Sniper seemed to have expected this, and opened both his arms and his van to your much needed emotional release. 

"There, there..." Sniper muttered to you. 

The sound of his voice was enough to soothe your tears in that moment, so you took a stuffy, shallow breath in. Upon exhaling, you babbled back to him, trying to reassure him without actually having to say the words – the thought of speaking was far too unappealing to even consider it, honestly. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it easy for me, yeah?" His voice raised to a whisper.

With another deep breath, you were feeling a bit better. Sure, you still felt like a wreck (and probably looked like one, at that), but at least you had someone looking after you. Sniper was such a friendly man; he really could make anyone feel welcome and safe in his presence. That's why you kept coming back to him during these rough patches; he knew exactly what to do to help you feel better. 

With his gentle persistence, your cries eventually turned into sniffles, and sniffles into soft babbles. You noticed that Sniper had been running his fingers through your hair, something he usually didn't do on his own accord. Though, if you were being honest, you found it sweet, how shy he could be – especially when handling tiny you. Despite his rough looks, he was a delicate man, always treating you with the utmost fragility. 

You almost felt bad for putting all of this on him. Sniper's empathy ran deep for those he considered family, and you didn't want your episodes to be another burden he carried. 

"Dada, m sorry.." You squeaked, turning your head to be heard clearly. 

"Why are you apologizing, roo?" 

You hesitated for a second, trying to put a coherent reason together. "I jus.. I don't wanna bother Dada.. and and.. he just got a lot too and.." You trailed off in the middle of your thought, losing the rest of what you wanted to say. 

Sniper's hand moved up to softly pat your back. "You know I don't mind taking care of ya', sweetheart. You're my little roo – what kind of daddy would I be if I didn't take care of my roo?" 

Somehow, you knew that wasn't a question that needed to be answered, so instead, you closed your eyes and rested on him once again. Your eyelids felt awfully heavy... 

You heard Sniper's muffled voice, and you thought you mumbled something back to him. In reality, it was just as incoherent as your regular babbles, but Sniper always thought you were cute when you were sleepy, anyway. He continued to rub your back and whisper sweet little affirmations in your ear until you were fast asleep in his arms. 

There he'd stay, even when became too tired to hold you upright. He simply lowered himself back onto the bed, with you on top, and kept you close until morning.

[mlimby]

JJBA Character Model Studies/Analysis (only Part 5)

Hi, this post is just me praising the art direction in the “Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure” fighting games “Eyes of Heaven” and “All Star Battle”. Don’t know if this has been done before but I’ve been thinking about this so much.

     One thing I love about the character design in these games is that they avoid same-face-syndrome. Each character is given unique facial features AND retains their part’s art style “quirk”, I guess you could call it, that anime/manga sometimes struggles with (due to the nature of the genre.) This is the closest to canon appearance descriptors that we are going to get that are not the basic things like height, hair color, eye color, etc. I’m talking like face shapes and whatnot. 

     Since the Part 5 cast are my favorites, I’m going to be using them as my examples. Yes, I am starved of Part 5 content.

Each image I use is going to be from a GTA 3 mod page (which I will source at the end of this post cause don’t you want to play as them in GTA?) since it’s the clearest and most consistent set of close up images I could find lol. 

Giorno:

Round, hooded(?), soulful, watery, wet beast eyes (his iris and pupils take up most of the space in his eyes)

Winner of wettest most watery eyes on the team

Very angled, blocked in eyebrows

Heart shaped face (widest at the forehead with pointy chin) very much emphasized by his cornet hair

Square jaw

Big ole rounded ears that stick out (Second biggest ears on team)

Slightly wider nose relative to the width of his mouth but overall balanced facial features

The way his suit is modeled gives him kind of a blocky appearance and make his limbs look shorter

Short fingers

In all, they gave him a very rounded/blunt appearance

I don’t believe in kibbe typing but, Soft Natural

Bucciarati:

Horizontally long, almond shaped eyes with visible double eyelid (smaller iris and pupils leave most of the white showing)

Has the second driest eyes on the team (only behind Mista)

Super thin, straight eyebrows that are more filled in towards the front (probably drew them on)

Thinner, oval face shape I think (pulls off the blunt bangs and bob cut very well good for him!)

Has a wider mouth and super full lips

Thin and long nose (emphasizing longer mid face makes him look more mature)

He got small bones

Well tailored suit (compared to Giorno’s somewhat ill fitted modified school uniform)

Long, slender fingers

Sleek, modern, and sharp impression

Probably Dramatic Classic lol

Fugo

Round/almond shaped eyes with visible double eyelid (smaller iris and pupils with most of the white showing)

Very long, angled, eyebrows but not as fat as Giorno’s

I’d like to say he has an oblong face shape plus IMAX forehead (sorry)

More v shaped jaw most similar to Bucciarati

Similar facial feature placement to Bucciarati but has a slightly more rounded nose tip and a not as pinched nose bridge

Big ole hands and fingers

Lanky teenage boy archetype

Very rectangular but slightly more blunt than sharp

Flamboyant Natural or straight up Dramatic probably

Narancia

Big round eyes with visible double eye lid but his iris and pupil still leave a lot of white showing (biggest eyes on team)

Big ears like huge ears (biggest ears on team)

Really thick and noticeable bottom lashes

Second place for most watery eyes on the team (I’d describe them as more sparkly and alert than watery I suppose)

Thin but angled eyebrows

Oval face shape but no sharp or hard edges just round (retains the most facial baby fat)

V shaped/rounded jaw but not as defined

Lips similar in proportion to Giorno’s but with a more defined cupid’s bow

Shorter limbs

Smaller hands with smaller fingers

He’s not short! He’s compact!

He’s like a small rock to me just all muscle but thin

Like how monkeys have super compact muscles that make their limbs appear thin but they’re actually super strong and can do unspeakable damage

Flamboyant Gamine

I’ll add more of the team in a later reblog of this post or a separate one I don’t know.

Image Sources: (all by Alessandar212)

[jungshookz]

hwayoung’s two now and y/n’s allowed to be emotional about it, okay?

➺ genre; ceo!yoongiverse!! a little bit of yoongi and y/n being mushy for each other!! fluff!! cutest drabble for the cutest girl!! jungkook and jimin bickering like an old married couple as per usual!! 

➺ wordcount; 3.2k

➺ p.s. this drabble is approximately five months overdue and it’s basically been collecting dust in my drafts so i figured i’d finally release it into the wild since it’s mother’s day today and i thought it’d be nice to read something sweet on this special day!!!! happy mother’s day!!! give ur mom a big ol hug and a kiss on the cheek :-) and if u don’t celebrate mother’s day that’s okay you can still read this for a small boost of serotonin wahoo :D 

                                       »»————-　🍰　————-««

“i’d just like to inform you that if it wasn’t for the fact that today is hwayoung’s birthday, the idea of having cake as part of breakfast would definitely be off the table.” yoongi pauses before turning his head to look at you pointedly, “in fact, it wouldn’t even had made it to the table in the first place.”

“trust me, you’ve made that clear multiple times-” you roll your eyes playfully before offering yoongi a half-hearted shrug, “it’s not a big deal! we’ll just give her a tiny little chunk that’ll fit in her tiny little hand and then we’ll save the rest for later!”

“yeah, right-” yoongi snorts, making his way over to you to hand you a balloon, “you’re probably going to sneak an entire slice of cake into her mouth while i’m not watching-” he teases, digging his fingers into your sides playfully before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest, “you think you’re so sneaky-”

“hey-!” you giggle, squirming in his grip when you feel him starting to nip at the side of your neck, “this is not a very productive use of our time, boss-”

“hey, you two! are you just going to stand there making out all day or are you actually going to help me with the decorations?”

both you and yoongi peer over the edge to see jimin standing by the bottom of the spiral staircase looking very unimpressed and you flash him a sheepish smile 

“we’re not making out-” 

“yeah, well you might as well be-”

“we’re helping! we’re almost done tying balloons to the banisters-” you argue, holding the balloon in your hand up before flopping it around enthusiastically, “we-” you jolt when you accidentally let go of it, watching with wide eyes as it rockets around the ceiling before poot-poot-pooting pathetically and landing on the ground by jimin’s feet

whoops

“…yes, that’s very helpful, thank you.” jimin mutters to himself, shaking his head as he bends down to pick up the sad, spitty balloon up off the ground with a grimace, “when you’re done, come down and help me because this balloon arch isn’t going to make itself! chop-chop, people-” he claps his hands together as he wanders back to the living room to the half-constructed balloon arch

“you know, you’d think that hwayoung was his daughter-” yoongi murmurs lowly, twisting his neck to give your cheek a quick kiss before pulling away

“mm, tell me about i-”

“she’s mine when the two of you drop dead!”

you jump in surprise at the sound of jimin’s voice snapping at you from below and you and yoongi exchange glances before bursting into quiet giggles

“i feel like i should be more concerned that jimin seems to be very eagerly waiting for our deaths.” you joke, reaching for the bag of balloons and pulling out a handful of them

as much as you love your daughter you weren’t planning on having a super big birthday party for her just because..,., well, she’s probably not going to remember most of it considering she’s two and also it’s just the five of you celebrating at home, so you thought that a cake and a bunch of presents would be good enough of a celebration

of course, when you told jimin about these plans he looked like he was ready to bury you alive which is why he insisted that he’d take care of the food and the drinks and basically the entirety of hwayoung’s birthday party and told you that all you and yoongi had to do was sit back, relax, blow up a couple of balloons and also choose a cute birthday outfit for hwayoung

(jimin actually ended up taking over that part as well. he bought her a new birthday dress and a brand new pair of shoes to go with it.)

“everyone can relax! the star of the show has now arrived!”

the sound of the front door slamming shut suddenly shatters the silence and you smile lightly when you see jungkook sauntering in as if he owns the place

“good morning, kook.” you hum, jungkook looking up at you before offering you a lopsided grin, “actually, the star of the show is still fast asleep in her room.”

“oh, right-” jungkook snorts, dismissing you with a flick of his wrist, “i mean, yeah, of course this is hwayoung’s special day- but check it out! i picked up her birthday cake and brought it back here and i didn’t accidentally ruin it somehow!” he raises the big blue box in his hand with a beam, “i’m incredible!”

“that thing looks huge, jungkook!” you frown lightly, “i told you not to go crazy-”

“please tell me you didn’t max out my credit card buying a giant cake for hwayoung.” yoongi chimes in, leaning over and folding his arms atop the banister, “i hope you realise it’s just going to be the three of you having to eat it all-”

“it’s hwayoung’s birthday, i had to splurge! you know that ‘everything is cake’ trend? i ordered a custom cake and asked them to make it look like a giant cookie! but i also ordered a dozen chocolate chip cookies just in case she’s not into the cake.” jungkook smiles proudly before pausing, “…of course, knowing hwayoung, she’s going to love the cookies and the cake, so i’m not too worried. i’m going to see if i can shove these into the fridge-”

“what’s wrong?” yoongi nudges your side to get you to look at him, “you look like you’re thinking, which is never really a good thing-”

“hwayoung’s two now.” you blink twice before turning to look at yoongi, “she’s two.”

“yes. you’re very good at keeping track of our daughter’s age.” yoongi coos, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully, “good job, baby.”

“two years old!” you gasp, turning around to lean back against the railing before shaking your head, “my god, she’s aged.”

“oh my god, you’re right. the ripe old age of two.” yoongi teases before gasping dramatically and reaching over to grip onto your forearm, “soon, we’ll be thinking about what elementary school to send her off to... and then the next thing you know, we’ll be helping her look for her own apartment when she’s off at university... and then you’ll be going wedding dress shopping with h-”

“stOP stop stop stop-” you wave your hands before covering them over your ears, yoongi laughing lightly when you frown at him, “i don’t want her to turn two! because that means she’s going to turn three… and then she’s going to turn four… and then five, six, seven, eight-” you pause and your eyes suddenly widen in horror, “she’s going to be a sixteen year old one day- what if she turns into a bratty sixteen year old?? because i was a really bratty sixteen year old and i don’t want her to turn out like me! do you know how hard it’s going to be if she turns into me? i used to sneak home at four in the morning-”

“let’s keep in mind that hwayoung is also my daughter and i was not a bratty sixteen year old,” yoongi interrupts calmly before giving your arm a reassuring squeeze, “she’s gonna be fine! and you turned out great, so give yourself a little bit of credit-”

“i just want her to stay two forever.” you pout, crossing your arms stubbornly as you look down the hallway towards her room, “is that too much to ask for??”

“when the terrible twos hit, i guarantee you’re probably going to feel a little different.” yoongi teases, pushing himself up off the banister before gesturing for you to go and join jimin and jungkook downstairs, “why don’t you help jimin out with the balloon arch while i go and wake our little miss two year old up?”

                                      »»————-　🍰　————-««

yoongi presses his lips together tightly as he twists the doorknob, being careful not to make too loud of a sound to accidentally shock hwayoung awake

the last thing he wants is for to burst into tears at the start of her special day

he peers into the bedroom, smiling fondly when he sees a little lump under the covers shuffling a little 

a chubby sock-clad foot pokes out for a second before it disappears again

“이게 누굴까요? [hm… who’s that]?” yoongi asks quietly, the lump suddenly freezing in place, “드디어 일어나셨네요… [i think someone’s finally awake…]”

he tilts his head when a messy head of hair pops out from under the covers, the corners of hwayoung’s mouth immediately lifting in a bright smile when she spots him, “우리 공주 좋은 아침입니다! [oh! good morning, miss min!]”

he lets himself into the room and reaches over to click the white noise machine off before starting to quietly pad his way over to her, his heart melting in his chest when her mouth opens up in a quiet little yawn

“잘 주무떠뜹니까… [gub moming…]” hwayoung murmurs, eyelids fluttering slightly as yoongi reaches down to push some of her hair out of her face

“잘 잤어? [hi, baby… did you sleep well?]” yoongi asks, leaning down to scoop her up, “우리 화영이 생일 축하해… 밑에서 다 기다리고 있어... [happy birthday, my darling… we’re all waiting for you downstairs...]” he whispers, rubbing circles into her warm back when she immediately clings to him, “머리에 물 좀 묻��고 내려갈까? 머리가 아주 산발이네. [why don’t we freshen up a little, hm? the birthday girl can’t take pictures with a bird’s nest on her head.]”

“딴바. [birb’s ness.]”

                                      »»————-　🍰　————-««

“i hope she likes the present i got for her.” jungkook mutters, his foot tapping anxiously against the ground as he looks up towards the top of the stairs in anticipation of hwayoung’s arrival, “i mean, if she doesn’t like it, there’s a receipt in the box so i can return it and get something else for her… but i really hope she likes it.”

“jungkook, she’s two. i gave her a wooden spoon to play with the other day and she was ecstatic.” you snort, peeling an eye open to look at him from where you’re lying on the couch before shutting it again, “i’m sure she’ll love whatever you got for her.”

“what’s the matter with you?” jimin hums, glancing at you for a second before focusing his attention back on sticking the bright pink ‘2’ candle onto the cake, “you look a little out of it today.”

“gee, thanks.” you snort, blindly grabbing one of the throw pillows before hugging it to your chest, “no, i’m fine, i just- i was feeling a little mopey this morning about hwa turning two and now i’m just thinking about how time has just flown by…”

“mm. it seems like it was only yesterday that i was holding your hair back while you violently puked your guts out into the toilet bowl.” jimin jokes, holding a hand to his chest before spinning around to face you and jungkook, “ah… fond memories that i’ll look back on for the rest of my life.”

“you know, i should’ve told yoongi i was pregnant in another way.” you suddenly change the subject, propping yourself up onto your elbows with a frown, “all i did was give him a tiny cookie. how lame is that?!”

“to be fair, you didn’t know how he was going to react, so maybe it was a good thing you went for something so simple!” jimin shrugs, making his way over to you before sticking his hand out for you to take, “c’mon, miss mopey. hwayoung probably doesn’t want to see you throwing yourself a pity party on her special day when she comes down here.”

                                     »»————-　🍰　————-««

“-화영이가 엄마한테가서 이쁜짓 해주는 거 어떨까? [-now, mama is feeling very emotional today, so i think it’d be a really good idea to act extra cute, okay?]” yoongi whispers to hwayoung, planting a quick kiss on her cheek while slowly making his way down the stairs, “of course, that probably isn’t going to be a problem for you, seeing that you’re adorable 24/7-”

“i adowbo.” hwayoung murmurs, leaning down and squishing her cheek against yoongi’s shoulder, “졸려. [i seepy.]”

“졸리다고? [sleepy?]” yoongi pauses on the steps, reaching up to adjust one of her pigtails with a smile, “이거 큰일났네, 졸리면 어떡해! [you can’t be sleepy for your morning conference. look alive!]”

“is that the sleepy little birthday girl?” 

yoongi looks down to see you waiting eagerly at the bottom of the stairs, your hands clasped together and your eyes glued on hwayoung, “good morning!”

“mama!” hwayoung immediately twists around in yoongi’s arms at the sound of your voice, reaching out for you with a teethy grin as soon as yoongi gets close enough to you

“oh, happy birthday, my sweet little baby!“ you coo as you take her into your arms, squishing multiple kisses to her chubby cheek as you hold her close, “happy happy birthday, my beautiful girl…”

“ahppa bouday!” hwayoung giggles, little hands patting against your face

she leans in and smushes her nose against yours before giving you a drooly kiss on the cheek and you can’t help but laugh at how affectionate she’s being with you

see??

you want to keep her like this forever and it sucks to think about the fact that one day you’re going to set her down on the ground after carrying her and you’ll never pick her up again because she won’t need you to pick her up again

:-(

“oh…” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your nose prickle and your eyes starting to get a little tingly, “i love you so much…”

you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before hwayoung’s suddenly being plucked from your arms, both jimin and jungkook immediately starting to fawn over her as per usual

“우리 화영이, 공주님이 따로 없네! [look at how beautiful you are in your dress!]” jimin exclaims animatedly, hwayoung clapping her hands together in response

her dress is sage green and gingham and it even came with matching ribbons for her hair and you have to admit that jimin made a pretty good choice with this birthday outfit

you probably would’ve stuck her in a pair of overalls or something

“see, what’d i say?” jimin smiles proudly, smoothing down the back of hwayoung’s dress before looking over at jungkook, “i told you the sage green was cuter- 아니 빨간 걸 왜 입혀 뭐 애를 도마로 만들 생각이니- [the red one that you wanted to go with would’ve made her look like a picnic blanket-]”

“아니 도마라니! [red gingham is classy!]” jungkook argues, trailing behind jimin while making faces at hwayoung to get her to laugh, “입혀보지도 않고- [you didn’t even give it a chance-]”

“난 그딴 거 염두에 두지 않는다 정국아- [i don’t need to give tacky garbage a chance, jungkook-]”

“hey, are you okay?” yoongi gives you a quick hug and kiss on the side of your head when he suddenly notices a tear running down your cheek, “she’s just turning two, y/n... she’s not moving out of the country-”

“i know, i know-“ you sniffle, reaching up to quickly wipe at your tears before chuckling, “i guess i’m just feeling extra emotional today-”

“c’mon, parents!” jimin calls out for you two while setting hwayoung down in her high chair, “the candle is melting and this cake is too expensive to get any wax dripped on it-”

“gookee!” hwayoung points to the cake and claps her hands as she bounces up and down on her seat, “gookee, mama!”

“yeah! cookie!” you mimic enthusiastically, smiling widely when she suddenly lets out a high-pitched squeal of excitement, her nose scrunching particularly cutely, “i’m glad to see that you inherited my love for cookies and not appa’s love for muesli.”

yoongi immediately scoffs and reaches down to give your bum a quick swat

“i know she’s saying cookie, but i’m just going to go ahead and say that she’s actually saying the name of her favourite uncle-” jungkook sighs, reaching down to pinch hwayoung’s cheek, “화영이는 꾹이 삼촌 제일 좋아하- [uncle gookee is your forever favourite-]”

“어 응 뉘에- [yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night-]” jimin snorts, shoving the camera into his hands as the four of you stand in front of hwayoung, “okay, don’t touch the cake yet! let’s get some pretty pictures of the birthday girl first!”

“hwa, look into the camera!” jungkook coos, snapping his fingers to get her to look up at him, “그래 삼촌 한 번만 봐 봐- [look at uncle goo- yeah, there we go-]”  

you watch hwayoung fondly as she continues to ham it up for the camera, her little legs kicking in anticipation under the tray

“good girl, you’re being so patient.” you hum before reaching over to pluck a cookie from the open box, “ooh, i’ve been dying to sink my teeth into one of these-” 

“i had one earlier, they’re pretty good!” jimin nods, brushing past jungkook to get to you, “the bakery i ordered them from has, like five out of five stars one google review- hey, what’s that face for?”

“eugh- do the cookies taste a little funky to you?” you face screws up as you swallow the bite before holding the cookie up to take a closer look at it, “it’s just chocolate chip, right?”

“yeah- hold on, lemme try-” jimin frowns, reaching over to steal your cookie before taking a bite of it and chewing thoughtfully

“maybe you just got a weird one?” yoongi suggests, peering into the box with a frown, “all cookies taste funky to me, so my opinion probably isn’t valid here-”

“it’s fine, i’ll try another one later-” you dust your fingers off before perking up and clapping your hands together, “hey, should yoongi and i hop in for some pictures before hwa completely destroys the entire cake?”

“yeah, it… might be a little too late for that.” jungkook clears his throat and the three of you look over to see hwayoung’s tubby arms shoved elbow deep into the cake, “i gave her the green light to go ahead and eat. she just looked so sad and hungry, i’m sorry!”

hwayoung cackles in glee as she continues slapping her hand against the cake, her grubby little hands now sticky and her new dress stained with globs of frosting chocolate

“oh my god.” you stifle a laugh and reach up to cover your mouth so that you don’t burst out laughing at the fact that both jimin and yoongi look absolutely appalled

“i spent, like, ten minutes doing her hair-” yoongi whines, gently nudging you aside so he can hurry over to hwayoung and try to salvage the neat little pigtails he spent forever working on, “and now there’s frosting everywhere!”

“that dress was expensive, jungkook!” jimin snaps, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was about to burst into tears, “and i didn’t even get any nice pictures with her before she- come on, man-”

“i’m sorry!”

“ahppy bodday!” hwayoung shrieks in delight and flings her arms up, chunks of cake and specks of frosting flicking out from her hands, “i adowbo!”

👔click here for more ceo!yoongi content (+ hwayoung!)

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles like this one!)

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[duuhrayliegh]

dm slide

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, language, nothing else really, it’s just really fluffy i think

word count: 1905

a/n: okay so my other stuff is coming, i stg, i’m just in the middle of finals and moving out of my dorm, and starting a new job, so i’m a bit stressy right now, but i’m getting there loves.

so if this one isn’t as good as it could be that’s why, but i’m hoping to add on to it later

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

You were currently at your best friend’s birthday party, polishing off your third overfull glass of wine. Your best friend threw her hands above her head, shouting out “Shots on me!” She thrusted a shot glass in your hand, encouraging you to toss back the liquid. You set down your wine glass, picking up the smaller cup, not caring about the flashing cameras around you.

“I’m so glad you were able to get free from your oh so lavish lifestyle as a celebrity to come hang out with little ‘ol me!” She had to continue to shout for you to hear her over the loud music blasting through the club speakers. She grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the bathrooms. “Are you getting ready to go? The sound system is giving me a headache.” You smiled at her, grabbing your phone from your clutch.

“Absolutely, babes. Let me order the Uber and then we can go.” You held onto your phone tighter, walking up to the bar to settle your tab. “Hey, Gabe!” Gabe, one of the bartenders, turned to you.

“Hey, Y/N!” He went to grab a bottle of your favorite wine to uncork it, but stopped when you held your hand up.

“Just settling up and heading out.” You passed your black AmEx card over the counter to his waiting hand.

“You’re missin’ out, Y/N. The party is just getting started here.” You shook your head at the man.

“Nah, I’m celebrating my best friend’s birthday tonight, so this is her call.” He slid your card back to you, watching you push it into the slots of your clutch. “We’re getting outta here, but that doesn’t mean our party is ending.” You winked at him, meeting up with your companion. You linked arms with her, leading the way through the crowd. It was cold outside, which didn’t mean good things for you because of your almost too short dress. The Uber stopped beside the curb, rolling their window down for you to double check. You climbed in beside your friend, scooting closer to increase your warmth. The ride to your apartment wasn’t too long, thankfully because Uber’s creeped you out, no matter how safe you were.

Walking into your apartment was difficult to say the least. You both were stumbling the entire way to the elevator and then stumbling into your couch cushions. The two of you managed to make it to your bedroom, swapping out your tight garments for some more ill fitting attire. That was not before you took an absurd amount of photos together in your bathroom mirror. You sat across from each other on the black couch in your apartment, sifting through the pictures of the two of you. Your best friend was leaned over your shoulder, watching as you scrolled through.

“Oo! That one!” She pointed at the screen quickly, stopping your scrolling. It was of you holding the phone, leaning backward staring at the phone in your hand. Your best friend was facing you, her bare back displayed from the deep dip in the back of her dress. “We look so hot.” You both shared a look and then burst into a fit of laughter. You posted the picture to your Instagram, tagging your best friend in the corner, wishing her a happy birthday. She slid away from your, covering her lower half with a blanket.

“You want a water?” You asked as you rose from your spot on the couch. She smiled big at you.

“Can I convince you to mix up some margaritas?” Her bottom lip rolled inwards, waiting for  your response. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before opening your liquor cabinet. You pulled down bottles of triple sec and tequila, reaching into your freezer for the bag of strawberries and limeade. You brought your Ninja Bullet out to make individual margaritas for both you and your drunk friend. Walking back over to her with containers in hand, you plopped opposite her on the couch.

“You’re literally the bestest ever.” She slurped on the drink through her swirly straw. The conversation faded between the two of you, allowing the both of you to go through your socials. “Did you see that Lizzo got a message back from Chris Evans the other day?” You laughed at her question, remembering your reaction to Lizzo’s TikTok.

“Mhm. Can you imagine getting a reply back from one of those hunks of men?” She shook her head while guzzling her margarita.

“I can’t, but I bet you can.” You scrunch your brows at her and she groaned. “You’re a celebrity too, dumbass. Girl, the amount of times that I’ve gotta remind you of that is insane.” You laughed at her, rolling your eyes.

“Babes, just because I’m quote, unquote famous, doesn’t mean that I’m on their level.” She pointed a finger at you.

“Hey, just shoot your shot, Y/N.”

“I literally don’t even know which one I would DM.” Your best friend scoffed loudly.

“Bullshit!” You choked at how loud she yelled. “You don’t know who you would DM? I know who you would DM in a fucking heartbeat.” You looked over at her with raised brows and in unison you said. “Sebastian Stan.” “Sebastian Stan.”

“Mm, he is a six foot tall Romanian God.” You shook your head while fake moaning, your friend laughing in the background. She reached for your phone before you could protest, typing away on your keyboard, smiling mischievously. She thrust the phone back into your hands, the empty DM screen of imsebastianstan on Instagram staring back at you.

“All you gotta do is send something.” She smiled at you while you glanced down at your phone screen nervously. You began typing something quickly then locked the screen, placing it facing downward on your lap, a giggly smile resting on your face. She scooted closer to you, folding her legs up to her chin. “Wait! What did you say?” You unlocked your phone, showing her the screen. She laughed at your message, drinking the rest of her margarita.

y/n.y/l/n: hi, i’m y/n and you’re the love of my life ;) <3

“That’s so fucking good, oh my God.” She glanced at the clock on your phone. “Oh girl, we’ve gotta go to sleep.” You checked it as well, dropping your head into your hands.

“Mhm, you’re right.” You stood from your spot, holding your hand out to your friend to help her up. “Let’s go to sleep.” You both crashed on your king sized mattress underneath your white fluffy duvet. You were about to drift off to sleep, when your best friend’s voice floated into your ears.

“Do you think he’s gonna reply to you?” Her voice was slurring more and more from the amount she drank and the sleep weighing on her mind. You smiled at her, it was a long shot that he would even see it, much less reply.

“We’ll have to see, babes.” She didn’t reply to you as you both fell off into a dreamless abyss.

********************

The sun streaming into your room woke you up in the morning, light hitting your eyelid just right. You blinked harshly, bringing your hand up to block the glare. A groan escaped your lips, stretching out from your best friends grip. “Fuck me.” You held your head in your hand, groaning about the headache blossoming at the nape of your neck. You left the bed, pulling a sweater over your tank top to catch some warmth. You tucked your phone into the waistband of your shorts. You padded into the kitchen, grabbing your Advil bottle, dumping two pills into your hand. You got a glass of water, settling down on the couch after gulping down the headache medicine.

You opened your phone while basically inhaling your water. Your memories of last night were fuzzy, you drank quite a bit. Did you drink too much? Maybe… but did you regret it at all? Not a second of it. You had the best time hanging out with your best friend. You check your Instagram post, replying to several different comments. A red bubble was pinned over your DM button in the corner. You tilted your head in curiosity, wondering who messaged you now. You swiped over, eyes widening at the new message.

imsebastianstan: Hi, Y/N. I’m Sebastian, thank you for professing your love to me.

The feeling of panic running through your veins didn’t last long, A gigantic smile spread accompanied by a giggle. What the fuck do you do now? Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, thinking through what you want to say back.

y/n.y/l/n: hello sebastian, what do ya say we  figure out if it’s a match :)

You sent the message before you could chicken out, locking the phone shortly after, shoving it in your waistband. You got up, refilling your glass of water, leaning against your granite countertop, tapping your fingers impatiently. You squealed as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

imsebastianstan: What do you have in mind?

y/n.y/l/n: 917-555-0545 <3

Oh my god, you can’t believe you just did that. Holy shit, what are you thinking? Maybe this will all work out in your favor. You really had nothing to lose but your dignity, right? A disturbance in the peace to the right of your caught your attention.

“Why the hell are you up so early? We drank last night, that’s an excuse to sleep in, you fuck baffoon.” Her hair was tousled on top of her head, shirt hanging off one shoulder. You turned your phone around, thrusting it towards her face.

“There’s been recent developments on the Stan front.” Her brows raised, face becoming shocked.

“Oh. My. God. Are you fucking serious?” She snatched the phone away from your hand quickly to scroll through the messages. “You gave him your number?” She yelled at you as she stretched across the couch, laying her head in your lap. Your phone buzzed in her hands and her eyes widened to unbelievable proportions. “Bitch, you just got a text from an unsaved number.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You looked at the phone in her hands. “I didn’t think he was actually going to text me, I sent it as a joke! What’s it say?”

“How are we going to figure this out?” You both shared a look, shrieking enthusiastically. “Y/N! Sebastian Stan texted you!” She jumped up and down on your couch, pulling you up with her.

“What do I say back?” You held the phone against your chest, staring expectantly at your best friend. She shook her head at you.

“Nuh-uh girl. This is all you.” She held her hands up in surrender. You looked down at your keyboard, the blinking cursor waiting for instructions.

“Okay, okay, how ‘bout, ‘discuss over coffee?’” You looked at your best friend for approval, still standing on your couch. You sent the message after she nodded. A message bubble popped up, three blinking dots inside.

There’s a coffee shop on 8th street,  just outside of Washington State Park.

wanna meet up around three?

I’ll be there, Y/N.

You turned to your best friend, holding the phone to your chest. “Babes.” She raised her brows, waiting. “I have a fucking date with Sebastian Stan!” You both squealed, excited for what would happen on your date.

[soleilsuhh]

— soon the cold night falls.

plot. when you went to doyoung’s place to study, you didn’t expect to end up staying the night and sleeping on the same bed.

pairing. doyoung x gender neutral! reader.

genre. college!au. fluff. suggestive. pining. good ol’ sharing-a-bed trope.

word count. 1.8k words.

you had been falling behind in maths, which was why you asked doyoung to help you study. although you didn’t have the same major, you knew he was more than proficient in the subject. he had eventually agreed to help but not without calling you an idiot first. this was how you found yourself in his rented studio apartment where he lived off-campus, about fifteen minutes from the university.

suddenly, you felt a hard but painless tap on your hand.

"are you listening?" he demanded, the look on his face is evident that he already knew the answer. he sighed, "pay attention, y/n, this topic is important."

"it seems like even you can't make maths interesting,"

he shot you a look at which you responded immediately by raising your palms up slightly in surrender, topped by a cheeky grin. you tried your best to focus as he continued with the explanation but by the time he reached to the next page, your thoughts began to drift away from the formulas and to the fact that the two of you were alone.

it wasn't as if this was the first time you had been alone with him in a room; you weren't sure why you were feeling jittery and why your foot was bouncing of its own accord under the table.

"—will you stop zoning out!"

his raised voice and the sound of frustrated slam of pen on the table startled you, effectively pulling you away from your thoughts.

surprisingly, the rest of the tutoring session went by smoothly. but it seemed like at some point while studying for what felt like forever, you fell asleep. when you woke up, you were pleasantly surprised to feel a jacket wrapped securely around you, and that its owner was also asleep in front of you, using his own arm as a pillow. his face was serene, the soft breathing making the world outside seem to stand still.

you grabbed your phone, trying to ignore the odd feeling in your heart. looking at the screen, you jumped, nearly causing the jacket to fall off your shoulders. it was already midnight, and you were still at his apartment. you reached over to shake doyoung awake, and as he rubbed his eyes, you showed him the lit-up screen.

he momentarily froze in his movements. "huh." he looked at you, "sorry, i didn't mean to fall asleep; i was planning to wake you up before your dorm curfew," he paused and after a moment, he said: “do you want to stay here tonight?”

your heart involuntarily beat faster at that and you brushed it off. it was probably a good idea; you were already an hour past the curfew. you said ‘okay,’ before calling your roommate to inform them. they sounded sleepy but nonetheless, relieved to hear from you. as you talked on the phone, doyoung walked over to his dresser and your gaze lingered after him.

“catch,” he said, throwing a simple tee and sweatpants at your direction just as you hung up.

you caught them clumsily.

“thought they might be more comfortable than your jeans, but you don’t have to change if you don’t want to,”

you smiled at him, “thank you,” you brought the clothes closer to get the whiff of fresh scent, “they smell really nice,”

he scoffed but not unkindly.

as you shuffled towards the bathroom to change, he began to put away the books on the table. when you came out, the table was cleared, everything neatly stacked and an extra bedding was spread out on the floor along with a pillow.

"you take the bed," he said, gesturing towards it.

you blinked at him for a moment then delcared, "hell no, this is your place anyway; i can sleep on the floor,"

"exactly, this is my place, so i make the rules," he said, "take the bed,"

you refused to move, not giving in but also uncertain about what to say. this was such a conflicting situation you were in; why did you care that much if he slept on the floor? why were your eyes so fixated on the fact that there was no extra blanket for him? what was this clenching feeling in your stomach?

"the bed is big enough for two people..." you awkwardly suggested. "i mean it's not like we've never shared a bed before,"

it's true; you had taken so many naps together - that was back in primary and middle school, yes, and things might not be the same anymore.

you could have sworn that you saw doyoung's movements stop after hearing your suggestion but he continued whatever he was doing on his phone. his lack of response was a clear enough answer for you.

"um, fine then," you said with a hint of despondency.

"i guess we can keep a pillow between us," his voice came. "i don't have an extra blanket too, anyway and it gets cold at night," he paused a brief second and lifted his head to look at you, "are you sure you're okay with sharing a bed?"

you nodded, a little too eagerly, a little too fast, "yeah, i'm okay with it! sounds good!"

the two of you remained motionless on the bed. it was awkward. you couldn't tell if he felt the same or if he was already asleep. he was lying still on his back, eyes closed and face relaxed.

you tried not to move too much, but you couldn't help yourself from restlessly tossing and turning, pulling the cover that you were sharing slightly closer to your body. he was right; the night was really cold.

suddenly, you felt a hand on yours, not grabbing it, just resting there and applying enough pressure to get your attention. you noticed how warm his hand was and you cherished it.

"y/n," his voice was soothing in the quietness of the night, "stop moving so much,"

you stopped and his touch, warm and gentle, lingered before he completely retreated his hand.

after a moment, you lifted your head slightly, "doyoung?"

"hmm?"

"i'm cold,"

he eventually opened his eyes and got out of bed with a sigh; he headed towards his dresser, the path dimly lit by the moon and then he came back with a hoodie which he tossed at you. "here,"

you mumbled a 'thank-you' as you put it on, feeling both thankful yet also...disappointed. you weren't sure why though. what exactly were you expecting anyway?

once again, both of you lied down on your backs, neither moving; his eyes closed, and yours wide open. minutes passed before you began to feel restless again. somehow, your mind wouldn't stop thinking about how warm his hand was and how yours was itching to be held again.

you turned your body to completely face him as you edged closer to the pillow barrier between you two. "doyoung?" you tried.

you waited a few seconds.

"what?"

"i'm still cold,"

you waited a few seconds. a few more. and a few more.

you were certain you wouldn’t get a response anymore. he was probably tired and dying to get some sleep. and he already gave you a hoodie; what more could he do for you?

sleepless, you found yourself distracted by how pretty he looked in the pale moonlight that came through the window. you noticed an eyelash on his cheek and tentatively, you reached over to gently brush it away. you were tempted to wake him so that he can make a wish but that probably wasn't a good idea. despite how warm his hand was, his face was cool under your touch, his skin so soft that you found yourself lightly trailing a finger along his features; first his cheekbone, then his nose, and when your finger reached his lip, his breath deepened and his eyelids moved albeit still closed. you stopped dead.

you weren't sure whether knowing that he was awake made you feel more nervous or more delighted. perhaps both.

your fingertips lingered on his skin, waiting for him to stop you but he didn't. you felt compelled to continue and that’s what you did; your fingers began moving again, trailing over the shape of his lips. with each passing second, your movements gained more sense of ease and certainty as your feathery touch brushed along his jawline, creeping down his neck, and then his collarbone.

you watched, marvelled as his breath hitched softly.

your fingers edged up his neck again.

and his hand grabbed your wrist. there it was. that warm touch of his.

he opened his eyes and your gazes locked.

the look on his face was unreadable and it made you all the more nervous and excited. the eye-contact broke only when you gulped, trying to shove the nerves down, and his eyes followed the movement on your neck.

“you said you’re cold?”

you nodded.

letting go of your wrist, his eyes met yours again. “turn around.”

you looked at him uncertainly, suddenly feeling a tingling sensation in your fingertips and toes. “why?”

he gave you a small, reassuring smile, and his hand reached out to trace along your jaw and down your neck, the maneuver emulating yours earlier.

“you’ll see,”

you shifted your position and turned until you were facing the other way. behind you, you felt the pillow between you two being lifted and placed on the other side of the bed. soon after, doyoung wrapped his arms around yours, pulling the covers over your bodies and holding you close. back pressed against his chest, you entwined your arm with his and laced your fingers together.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, still and quiet.

it was him who broke the silence, “how about now?” he said, “are you still cold?”

you smiled, “no, this is really nice,”

“good.”

it was a little awkward and stiff at first. but after a while, it became peaceful as you both slowly relaxed and allowed yourselves to melt into the warm embrace. your breathing slowed down and your heart stopped racing. the steady rise and fall of his chest was so comforting and you found yourself snuggling closer against his chest and into his arms.

“honestly,” you began, voice quiet but light-hearted, “i was kind of thinking about something else when you told me to turn around,”

he hummed amusedly and let out a chuckle. then he leaned forward to hover his lips over your ear, “i know what you were thinking,” his voice was barely above a whisper and held a tone of refrained laughter.

you shivered but eventually bursted out laughing, and he promptly joined, unable to contain it in him any longer. the laughter in the stillness of the night was heavenly. doyoung muffled himself by burying his face in your neck to stop himself from laughing too loud for the sake of the neighbors, but that only caused you to laugh louder and harder because of the tickling sensation. in spite of himself, he managed to whisper soft ‘shh’s and gently covered your mouth with his hand from behind.

even as you both tried to calm yourselves down, you broke into fits of soft giggles every now and then. doyoung tried to sound annoyed as he told you to go to sleep but he couldn’t stop smiling.

you sighed, happy and content but also sad because you knew this moment would eventually pass, “i don’t want this to end,”

“don’t be silly,”

silence filled the room for a while.

“you can come sleep over whenever you want,” he said, hugging you closer, his voice soft and unwavering.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Nurse Din

Relationship: Din Djarin x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff! Summary: You seem to be coming down with a cold so the Mandalorian takes on a new role: a nurse. Based off the prompt: person b pressing their forehead against person a's forehead to check if they have a fever. A/N: this is one of the last fluffy one shots (i have a whole Din series i never posted on here...yet.....along with some smut.........will be posted at some point i promise) I have for my Mandalorian writing and honestly? I miss it. I will be writing for the Mandalorian again because idk it was just a nice time. I liked letting myself explore that world and characters :)

Masterlist

You woke up just feeling… bad. Your muscles were aching, your stomach was doing somersaults, and… oh, Maker, was that a burn in your throat?

"Ugh," you tried to groan at your disheveled state but it came out more like an aggressive cough which certainly did not help your throat.

You squirmed on the cot, taking advantage of the fact you were alone as your husband was already up doing whatever he did. (Okay — you did know his schedule but your uncomfortable state was preventing you from registering anything. You were just thankful you weren’t cramped together with him in this state.)

You were just starting to drift back to sleep as your heavy eyelids finally caved in from staring at nothing when something gave out a little coo next to you. Reluctantly, you peaked over your shoulder and came face-to-face with the small green child you had come to adore — well, he was adorable when he wasn’t waking you up.

"What?" You grumbled, your tired voice coming out rough. You let out another cough which Grogu just cocked his head at.

When you didn’t show signs of getting up, he started babbling again, trying to get your attention.

You forced yourself out of your near-dream state, furrowing your features wondering what in the galaxy he could want — oh. You were supposed to get him breakfast. In your delusional, ill state, you had completely forgotten your responsibilities.

Well, okay, you thought, it was just getting him breakfast, and then you could return to sleep. But even just the motions of sitting up in the cot made you hack up a lung. The child looked at you now fully concerned about what was going on with one of his parents. You tried catching your breath but the mixture of the coughing with the aching muscles and burning throat was taking a toll on you.

It wasn’t long into your coughing-fit that Din caught wind and came to check you. Usually, you were up by now, watching the child. When you weren’t awake and ready yet, he had simply thought Grogu was giving you a hard time. But when the unmistakable sound of coughing rang throughout the ship, Din realized there was much more going on. A mild panic set in as he made his way in to check on you.

"Riduur?" Din asked, entering the sleep quarters. He watched you slumped over in the bed, groaning in discomfort. The child was looking between you both, mostly wondering who was giving him breakfast.

"Hmm?" You hummed, turning to your concerned husband in the doorway. Shivers ran down your back. You reached for blankets, cuddling them tightly. Din made his way to bed picking up the child in the process and setting him on your pillow. Din stood at your side, looking down at you.

"What’s wrong, cyra’ika?" He asked, placing a loving hand on your shoulder, feeling you shake beneath his touch. Din wasn’t liking this one bit.

You coughed, clearing your throat and, said, "I think I caught a bug."

Din sighed and removed his helmet. Leaning down, he touched his forehead to yours, feeling the feverish warmth radiating off your skin as he did. More panic started settling in, realizing your hunch was very much correct.

You two had stopped the other day in a busy village totally ran over with a bustling population. You hadn’t thought much as you wove your way through the crowd to purchase the items you were looking for. But, as fate would have it, someone somewhere was incubating something and you caught it.

You melted into Din’s touch, letting your muscles relax a bit, even if it was a peculiar gesture. "What did you do that for?"

He pulled away and replaced his helmet. "What do you mean?" The muffled voice returned.

"You checked my fever with your forehead," you let out a weak chuckle, glancing up at him as you readjusted the blankets. "Don’t we have devices for that or something?"

Din shrugged, "I went the old fashioned route."

"I don’t even think they did that in the old times," you gave a small smile knowing fully well your husband was growing annoyed with you as the seconds went by. Well, what could you say? A little cold wasn’t taking away your feisty attitude

"You’re sick, can barely make it out of bed, and you want to argue with me about how I checked for a fever?" Din asked, his tone holding fake anger.

"Please," you paused, letting a small cough take over for a second. "I haven’t been able to focus on a single thought all morning. Be thankful I’m even awake and talking."

Another shiver came over you after you spoke, sending you into a shaking fit. You pulled the blankets but found you had already acquired all of them. Noticing your distress still, Grogu waddled from the pillows, making himself comfortable in your lap. He looked up at you, eyes squinting in concern. Your heart dropped as you realized you were still neglecting the little guy.

"Oh, shoot," you frowned, "you still need-,"

Din cut you off. "I’ll take care of him. You just rest, cyra’ika."

He scooped up Grogu who was still looking at you, confused. He cooed, trying to reach out to you. Din held him back and motioned for you to lay down.

"Are you sure?" You asked, curling up on the bed.

"Of course," Din nodded and tucked you into the blankets. You smiled stupidly at the care he was giving you.

It was a slightly miserable rest, but you were able to get what felt like just a few minutes (in reality, it had been a few hours) of sleepy bliss before Din came back with Grogu following closely behind. You blinked in confusion, trying to wake up as Din sat at the foot of the cot. Your mind didn’t feel as hazy as it had earlier but the aches were still as present as ever.

You rolled over, greeted by your husband. His helmet had been discarded again and he was watching you, a concerned look in his eyes. You tried giving a weak smile hoping to communicate you were okay. He didn’t seem convinced.

Breaking your stares, a soft babble came from next to the bed. You looked over and were greeted by the child who was holding a little thing of soup. While you couldn’t smell it well, it was steaming and looked fresh, making your stomach give the tiniest rumble.

"Soup?" You coughed. "For me?"

The child extended his arms, trying to hand you the bowl. Two big eyes peeked over the rim as he watched you, waiting. You sat up and graciously accepted the food. You held it close, taking small sips of the wonderful broth. You didn’t even really know there was soup on this ship so either someone spent a nice credit on it or Din had been holding out on you.

"Is it- Does it taste alright?" Din asked, seeming almost… nervous. You gulped down more broth, brows furrowed in questioning.

"It’s wonderful," you nodded. "Why? Is there something wrong with it?"

Din chuckled, "No, no. I just…" He paused, looking down at the floor and then back at you. "You’ve just never been sick before — well, none of us have ever been sick before — and I’m just not used to taking care of someone like… like this."

"Oh, honey-,"

But Din abruptly stood up before you could get anything else out. Planting a sweet kiss on your forehead, he mumbled, "I’m gonna find you some tea."

You frowned but nodded, continuing to drink your soup. You despised when he would do that. He’d open up a little bit and then shut down. Granted, he had gotten better at it the longer your relationship went but you thought marriage would be the helpful push he needed and it hadn’t added up like that so far. But it was fine. You took your own time to reassure him about things, putting words where his sometimes weren’t.

He came back moments later as you finished the last of your food. You handed the bowl back to Grogu who took a second to see if he could find any leftovers for himself. You gave a small smile watching him stick his head in the bowl, hunting.

Din gave you the cup of tea and, just like the soup, you cradled it close, sipping the liquid slowly. The continuous warmth was doing wonders for your throat.

"Maybe you should be a nurse," you said, peaking over the cup at your husband who was again taking a spot at the foot of the bed. He turned to you, a playful smirk on his face.

"A nurse?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah," you nodded. "Retire and take care of some little ole sick folks like me. You’re doing such a good job at it."

"Was that sarcasm?"

You sighed, dropping the joking act. You reached your one hand to grasp his, which he happily welcomed, and said, "No, riduur, it wasn’t. I mean it. I’ve never felt so cared for before."

Din looked away as if taking in your words. He brought his other hand to pat your connected ones. After what felt like the longest seconds ever, he turned back to you, his grateful eyes meeting yours.

"I’m glad," he said. Your heart raged with love for the Mandalorian before you. Never did you think you’d find someone who comforting, so caring, and yet here he was like a fever dream.

You took in the love he had to offer and placed a light kiss on his cheek, trying to return it just a bit. He smiled and turned to place a real kiss on your lips, but your hand came up in protest.

"I’m disgusting," you explained, disconnecting your touch and returning to cuddling your tea. "Maker knows what germs I got brewing."

"Fine," he sighed, "but you owe me endless kisses once you’re better."

You smiled, "Endless kisses?"

Your husband nodded, "Oh, yeah. So many kisses your lips are going to be so sore."

"Sounds horrible," you giggled, taking a sip of your tea. "But worth it."

Din let out a low chuckle and got up from the bed. He returned a kiss to your cheek and said, "Finish your tea and then get more rest. You need it, cyra’ika."

You nodded in agreement and watched as Din picked up Grogu, and began carrying him out of the space.

"Come on," he said to the child who was watching you. "We need to let your mom sleep."

The child gave a little coo in either agreement or protest (you couldn’t tell but either way it was adorable). You smiled, watching them exit. Finishing up the last of your tea, you placed the cup on the floor and then curled back up in your blankets.

Drifting off, you relished in the comfort of everything. Sure, you were sick out of your mind, but you had two loves waiting for your recovery and eager to make you feel better any way they could. Oh, yeah. This was way more than you could’ve ever asked for.

[howdoyousleep3]

Need beefy Bucky in a crop top and little Steve being all faux-angry, dragging him towards the bedroom or couch or closest flat surface. "I had shit to do today, Buck. Important shit. And you had to go and pull this on me? Asshole."

💖🥰😘 Tags: Grumpy Morning Steve, Happy Slut Bucky, Affectionate Name Calling, Light Dom/Sub, Manhandling, Dirty Talk, Jealously/Possessiveness, Teeny bit of Breathplay

Steve hasn’t even had his coffee yet. He’s standing in the kitchen in nothing but his briefs, pouring it piping hot and steaming into his cup, contemplating adding a pinch of sugar to it, when Bucky walks in from the bedroom in—

Lord have mercy.

Skin, so much skin. Steve’s mouth waters as he openly watches Bucky move around the apartment, from the living room to the kitchen. His black shorts are perfectly decent, sit well above Bucky’s knees, show off his thick thighs gorgeously. It’s his shirt that has Steve filling out his briefs as he leans against the counter.

This shirt is indecent.

It barely covers Bucky’s tits, leaves the majority of his torso open to the eye, and what an eyeful it is. Smooth skin, curving lines of muscle, a yummy and tasteful line of fuzz dipping beneath his shorts at his belly—it has Steve hungry. He wants to sink his teeth and his fingertips into Bucky’s skin and roll around in the breathy noises he knows for a fact would follow.

Steve lets out a low whistle, brings his cup up to his lips, his insides giving an appreciative rumble when he takes note of the rosy tint that graces Bucky’s high cheekbones. He pretends to not hear Steve, moves towards his backpack sitting on the counter.

“Fuckin’ hell, Bear. What’s this?” he asks, voice low given the combination or the early hour and his arousal. His gulp of coffee adds to the warmness in his chest and in his belly.

“What’s what?” Bucky retorts, a smirk playing with his lips that Steve knows Bucky thinks he’s hiding. Transparent tease. When Bucky crosses in front of him, walking to the fridge, Steve grabs for him, a casual yet possessive arm winding around a thick and exposed waist.

“You know what, you slut,” Steve teases softly, pulling Bucky towards where he rests against the counter. Bucky moves like water, easy and fluid, just like he always does for Steve, and when their fronts are pressed together Steve pulls the fabric of his crop top.

“What’s this? This shirt? Who you showin’ off for?”

“No one,” Bucky murmurs, blush spreading prettily across his cheeks, his hands moving to wrap one around the nape of Steve’s neck, one to rest on Steve’s chest. It’s as if he knew Steve was going to grab him in this exact way, so natural of a response. Steve tucks his chin, runs the back of his hand down Bucky’s exposed stomach and watches the way the sensitive skin ripples in response to his touch. The hand on Bucky’s waist can’t help but move down and squeeze at the meat of Bucky’s ass through his shorts.

“No one or everyone? Fuck, bubba. This is how we’re starting our day?”

A few squeezes of Bucky in his hands has him wanting more. The hand on Bucky’s ass refuses to move, remains in its place and kneads at the muscle, but his opposite hand is gliding up and under Bucky’s tiny shirt. He meets Bucky’s eyes, requests that contact with the brush of his nose along Bucky’s chin, tipping it. He rewards Bucky’s obedience with a drawn out pull of Bucky’s pretty pec, his tit, pinches at his nipple as he watches Bucky’s eyelids flutter.

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, whines, noise going directly to Steve’s hardening cock pressed to Bucky’s stomach. There’s a light shove at Steve’s chest to go with the, “Steve, I got…c’mon I’ve got somewhere to be, I got plans.”

Steve’s arm goes unintentionally yet possessively tight around Bucky’s waist.

“You got plans? You’re leavin’?”

His tone has Bucky letting out a chuckle, has him running his fingers through Steve’s hair, up and through the back.

“Yeah, ya punk. I’m meeting Nat at the coffee shop for some self care, some writing, journaling, some catching up. I told you this last night. Lemme go.”

His reaction is immediate, the flare of possessiveness, of protectiveness, arousal.

“You’re leavin’ like this?”

“Yes, Steve—I am.” Bucky bites back, always sensitive to criticism about what he can and cannot wear. Steve means anything but criticism, would never dream of telling Bucky how he should dress, but he can’t ignore the need to show Bucky just what his thoughts are on an outfit as sexy as this one. He leans up and sucks on the side of Bucky’s neck, right on that sweet spot that makes Bucky whimper, and pushes him back in the middle of his chest.  

“You know, I had shit to do today too, Buck,” he starts, tone irritated to match Bucky’s own, knows how to push Bucky just so and safely. He reaches for the waistband of Bucky’s shorts, pushes at his belly but then pulls to reel him back in as he makes his way to the closest surface, which is the couch.

“Not just any shit,” he continues as he moves, Bucky’s eyes sparkling. “Important shit. So important. And then this happens, here you are comin’ out here lookin’ like this. And what?”

He turns, shoves Bucky down onto the couch with a grunt, knocks his thighs apart with his own. He settles easily into Bucky’s lap, both hands grabbing at Bucky’s chest over his crop top.

“I’m supposed to just let you walk outta here without gettin’ mine first, before the rest’a the fuckin’ city thirsts after you? You fuckin’ jerk.”

Bucky is tickled, Steve can see it. He huffs as if he’s annoyed but it barely passes for a huff instead of a happy sigh. Steve can also feel it in the way Bucky grabs for him, the way his hands dig hungrily into his hips, that extra bit of energy he has for being praised so heavily. Steve brings a hand up, wraps it around the front of Bucky’s throat, digs his fingers into his jaw. Bucky whines into his grin.

“You do this on purpose?”

“No…” Bucky mumbles after a few silent seconds.

“No? You didn’t think this would make me hard as a fuckin’ rock, wouldn’t have me wantin’ to make you do somethin’ about that? You’re full’a shit.”

Steve rolls his hips, little punches of his body, lets Bucky feel the physical reaction his body has had after just a few minutes of seeing Bucky in this getup. He leans in and nips at Bucky’s chin, kisses the corner of his mouth, allows for Bucky’s moan to seep out between his lips.

“Look at you, Buck. Fuckin’ sexy is what you are. Look how big you are, Bear. All this body, all this muscle, but you soft for me, ain’t you? You can show it all off to the world but it’s mine, ain’t it?”

His voice is a purr, words melting right into Bucky’s cheek, both hands running down his body to squeeze at the skin Bucky has left purposefully uncovered. His grip is tight, makes Bucky mewl, makes him pull on Steve’s hips, needy, grinding their dicks together, seeking friction.

“S’yours,” Bucky answers easily and fuck, that’s sweet, makes Steve’s balls ache. He turns his head, gives Bucky a few chaste kisses, a little wet and a lot of hunger.

“I get mine before you go, bubba,” Steve tells him, pulling back, his hands running up and into Bucky’s hair, ruining his bun with a nice tug. “Use this big ‘ol body to make me come and then you can be on your merry way for your well-deserved self care day, baby. Hmm?”

Bucky’s hand is in Steve’s briefs, fingers curling perfectly around his erection, before Steve can finish his sentence.

“Atta Bear…”

[barnesandco]

Hidden Mischief

Bucky can’t resist your appeal long enough to get you into a bedroom.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo​ 2020. Word count: 1185. Square filled: “Laughing During Sex”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: PLEASE STOP READING IF YOU ARE NOT 18+

A/N: It’s. Closet. Sex. Please enjoy.

The closet is dark and you almost scream when you are pulled into it, stopped only by the familiar scent of Bucky’s cologne that reassures you that you are safe, and the person who yanked you into the cleaning supplies closet as you were walking down the hallway isn’t going to harm you.

Quite the contrary. Bucky kisses you sweetly, clutching your face in his large hands, metal smooth on one side and gun- and knife-roughened palm on the other. You shiver as the gold ridges in his vibranium hand catch on your skin and graze the line of your jaw, and take a moment to breathe, saying, “Bucky? What are we doing here?”

He nuzzles into you, nose grazing the soft stretch of skin below your ear, placing a gentle kiss on your neck. It’s too dark to see him, but you trace the outline of his face with shaking fingertips. “Isn’t it obvious, angel?” He asks, his hot breath hitting your skin. “I’m seducing you?”

“All this effort for little ol’ me?” You murmur in a gasp as his teeth find the hollow of your throat, where he bites hard enough to make you keen, but soft enough that he won’t leave a mark. In response, he walks you backward into a shelf.

Your sweatshirt is taken off with hasty movements, and you tug at the hem of his sweater in sharp motions. When he doesn’t break away from placing wet kisses over the tops of your breasts, you use that super strength that got you recruited to tear it off. He pauses. You can imaging his gaze on yours but can’t see it, and you’re worried for a second until he hoists you up and puts you in a shelf.

Bottles of what you think are cleaning liquids go toppling, and you freeze with Bucky’s hands on your waist and his on your shoulders. There are voices outside, in the hallway. Bucky is close enough that you can see the cerulean glow of his petrified eyes in the light filtering in from under the locked door. That’s when you lose it.

It starts with a giggle that you try to tamp down behind bitten lips, and then by kissing away the worry, but soon you are shaking with laughter, and have to bury your face in his shoulder, breathing in the sweat-salt scent of your boyfriend, until he is smiling into the crook of your neck, too.

Outside, Nat is saying, “Did you hear that?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Sam says, privy to their secret and you can hear the strain of desperation in his voice. He really isn’t much of a spy, but Nat decides to leave it be, and soon, they’re gone.

Bucky recovers first, trailing his tongue from the top of your bra to just below your jaw, while his hand makes short work of your jeans and removes them to trail up your inner thigh. You’re still delirious from the fear of near-discovery when he covers your lips with his, and you form a smile against his mouth as his hands find your underwear.

“Bucky,” you murmur, smile leaving your face to be replaced by a muted moan as his thumb strokes over your clit and he gently works one thick finger inside your velvet folds. You’re soaking wet and he’s barely gotten started, now moving his finger inside of you with slow thrusts that have you arching towards him.

He takes a break from exploring your mouth to groan into your neck, hard against your inner thigh and trying to be patient and gentle. “Easy, darlin’. Don’t want the others to know we’re in here, do you?”

So you stifle the next moan in his mouth by leaning to kiss him, mouths bumping clumsily in the dark and then latching on. His skin is tight and strong under your fingers, and you trace the joint between metal and flesh on his left shoulder with a delicate caress. He shudders and gives you another finger, opening you up to him, not that you need much more of his work. You’re ready.

His pants come off with quick flicks off your wrists and as he steps out of them, he bumps into a broom – how does Tony design a hypermodern superhero complex and still need physical brooms? – and it falls to the ground with a clatter.

But you’re in too much of a hurry to care, and Bucky rips off your underwear with a strong tug, pulls you closer and then works his cock into you slowly, until he is buried in you, to the hilt. The feeling is magnanimous, and you hold him close to you, your arms around his shoulders in an intimate embrace, breathing into his ear.

He smells like sweat and your perfume and his cologne, and you breathe him in deep, then roll forward, and he growls. Pulls out until just the tip is in you and then pushes forward to bury himself in you again, and you gasp, your hands finding a home in his hair, drawing all the hair out of the bun he had it tied in previously.

“Shhh, baby,” he urges again, saying, “Can’t have the others runnin’ in here.” And then there’s a pause, and his voice drops into a wicked whisper. “Or is that what you want? You want everyone to know how good I love you, is that it, baby doll?” The words are muttered sharply into your shoulder, accompanied by deep, rolling thrusts that build the ache in your belly until you are a writhing mass of want, as he keeps talking. “If that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you, honey. You won’t walk right for days and they’ll all know,” he murmurs.

His hands finds your clit again and your walls flutter around him. Bucky is big and you are so full, so sensitive, you can feel every ridge and vein graze your walls as you roll forward in tandem with his thrusts.

The finger on your clit moves in sharp circles and your toes curl where your feet are locked behind his back as he thrusts. The pace becomes frenzied as he gets closer to release and the fireworks waiting behind your eyelids explode, the dark growing white hot as you come around him, feeling him swell inside you before he comes, too, in fast, shallow thrusts, emptying himself inside of you.

Peppering kisses across his shoulders, you breathe deep and slow, willing your heartrate to return to normal while your fingertips seek out his wrists to feel his pulse slow. He twists his hand to catch yours, and your fingers intertwine.

The air smells like cleaning supplies and sex.

Someone tries the door handle.

You and Bucky let go of each other’s hands but stay close, still bare to the skin and thrumming with electric fire.

“Who’s in there?” It’s Steve. You look at Bucky, who is wearing an expression that can most closely be described as I hate my best friend. You cover a smile. No way out of this one.

[thelazytealover]

Dandelion Wine

I thought this story from the depths of google docs would be perfect for the prompt “Pour the fruit of the vine” for Seph week! @acequeenking, the ending of this feels really similar to your “Outdoor Girl” fic, but I promise this has been sitting in my drafts for like three months. Great minds agree that Persephone is a horny drunk I guess??

She stops drinking completely, for a long while. Then one day, Hermes shows up with an invitation to one of her daddy’s summertime parties, so Persephone rolls her eyes and tromps down to Mama’s cellar for a bottle of wine to bring.

It’s been near ten years since the boy paid his visit downstairs; since she stopped drinking and started trying to patch things with her man. After such a length of sobriety, Persephone supposes she can enjoy a drink or two while she’s dealin’ with the family. She still misses alcohol sometimes, even long after the withdrawal symptoms have faded. The taste of dandelion wine just can’t be replicated with any of Mama’s lil’ mocktails, and her daddy’s parties are just insufferable without at least a little booze.

When they arrive at Pa’s party, she discovers it’s one of those outdoor, nighttime parties where everybody sits around a big ol’ campfire and drinks hard. By the end of these nights, everybody’s either wandered off to argue or have sex in the woods. With Ma and Hermes by her side, she wagers she’ll be able to last maybe an hour or two without any booze. Hopefully, after two hours, they can just go home. If not, she’s drinking. Just a little.

Turns out, a little of Dionysus's wine ends up being a whole lot ‘cus it’s even sweeter than she remembers it being before. While her family sits around the fire and gossips, Persephone sips on her wine and tries to ignore the tiredness that begins to creep behind her eyes. When she finishes her first glass, she feels well and truly tipsy. Then she’s downing a second glass of Dio’s stuff, and then somehow, she’s hammered. She tilts her head back, sleepily, and watches the stars above. When her eyelids start getting too heavy, she shuffles around in her lawn chair and opts to take a nap, party etiquette be damned.

Concerned, Hermes pulls her away to a comfortable lounge on the outskirts of the lawn. It’s farther away from the bonfire and worse, farther from the drinks. This makes her pout, but he only hands her a blanket and instructs her to rest. Then, he disappears to re-join the party. It’s getting real dark, so she can’t quite make out who is who against the blurry glow of the bonfire that’s now several feet away. Persephone finds herself people-watching as the dark figures move against the bright orange of the fire. When her brother ain’t paying attention, she enjoys more stolen sips of her Dandelion wine and eventually falls asleep.

When she wakes, still wine-drunk and dizzy, she sees a new silhouette standing near the fire. Persephone squints, admiring the shape of the mysterious new guest. Then, she tips back the rest of her wine and, with much difficulty, lifts her head.

“Hermes! Come here!” She hollers vaguely towards the fire.

“What is it, Seph?” Her brother sighs.

“I gotta tell you… something. ‘S a secret, okay? Don’t tell nobody.” She sticks out her pinky to make him swear like they’re still lil’ kids.

He obliges her.

“Mkay. That man over there? He’s so hot. Shhh, don’t tell though.” She giggles, pointing to a figure who’s just joined the party. Hermes nods as if she’s telling him something real important; As if Persephone isn’t pointing towards the outline of her own husband.

“You can’t tell, brother, I’d be in so much damn trouble,” she hoots. Persephone’s loud enough to catch the entire party’s attention– including Hades. He starts towards their little sitting corner.

“Hush, sister, or we’re both getting kicked out because of your loud ass.”

“Ooh, speakin’ of nice asses, Hermes, look! He’s comin’ over here!”

“Girl, I never said–”

“Hermes. Persephone.” Hades interrupts, nodding in greeting.

“Hey, boss.” Greets Hermes.

“You’re hot.” Greets Persephone, lifting her arm to poke him. “So hot.”

Hades catches her hand and holds it. “You alright, darlin’?”

“You wanna dance?” She retorts, sticking her chin up in some kind of challenge.

“What?” He chuckles. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You’re hot.” She tries to waggle her eyebrows at him. “I wanna dance. It ain’t hard to say yes, mister.”

“Seph.” He tries to help her stand up, but she wobbles and plops back down. “I don’t think you could walk now, much less dance.”

“Mm… no! I can… I just gotta get up. And then— yeah, then we’ll dance.”

“I think I ought to take you back to your mother’s house. Maybe get you in bed.”

“Bed?” She’s only getting about half of the words he’s saying cus she’s so tired. “No, silly, I’m married. No bed for you. Look, look.”

She waves her wedding ring near his face.

“I see,” Hades replies, humoring her. “How about I just help you on home, then?”

“We should dance first. You’re so… hot.”

“Alright, Persephone. That’s enough. ” Hermes hushes her, amused. He turns to Hades. “I’ll tell Demeter that you’ve got Seph, then?”

“Sure.”

Hermes nods and looks back down. “Behave, sister. Don’t you come on too strong, alright?.”

Persephone just snorts in response. Hermes rolls his eyes and heads off, probably to go tattle to her mama that she’s bein’ carried home by her husband.

”C‘mon. I’ll bring you to the car.” Hades reaches for her, and she lets him scoop her up, tenderly.

“Yeah. Wanna go… to sleep now. No dancin’. Changed my mind.”

“Okay,” he says, all soft. Then he lifts her up in a bridal carry, adjusting her limp form into his arms. “Let’s get you to sleep, Miss Persephone.”

She smiles against his shoulder, warm and comfortable, before correcting him.

“It’s missus. I’m married, silly.”