grapenamjams

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So Im currently sobbing?? 😭 💜

La vie est belle. Happy Birthday, Marius.

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MORE of Gigi's Legendary animatic Telemachus (aka our fav twinkle hehe) rkgk 💙

Ib: @gigizetz 🫶💙

Version with out ref:

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HAPPY FATHERS DAY❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

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Reposting because my friend’s wedding is this week and yet no tall turtle man to join me 😔💚

Plus one

Characters: Togame Jo x Reader

Summery: you and Togame have been friends for a while so of course you would ask him to be your plus one to your friend’s wedding.

Contains: friends to lovers, Togame wears a suit, reader wears a dress, confessions, kissing, sweet ending, Togame is a shy boy please handle with care

A/N: totally self indulgent. Wasn’t even planning on posting this I have no idea why it’s so long. I have a friends wedding this time next year and I WISH Togame would be my plus one :’(

💚🐢START HERE 💚🐢

“Be my plus one this weekend” the words cause Togame to pause. The Ramune halfway to his lips, glass ball inside ringing. his green eyes going to you. watching you sit beside him on your living room floor. “What?” His voice rumbles out in surprise.

You place the plate of snacks on the coffee table infront. “To my friend’s wedding. The rest of my friends are using their plus ones with their boyfriends.” Togame remembers you mentioning a wedding coming up but didn’t know it was so soon. His mind goes to the memory of you showing him dresses online, asking for opinions although he thought he wasn’t one to be qualified to give fashion advice; seeing that he wore the same comfy monk clothes and sandals combo everyday. But course he agreed to it with a faint blush on his cheeks. But You got frustrated when he kept on agreeing with each style. Togame just shrugged then stating that they all looked the same to him, brushing off the fact that he genuinely thought you would look good in all of them. Secretly wanting to see you in all of them.

Togame takes a swing of his drink bringing himself back to the moment. “Then take your boyfriend” even when he says it in a teasing manner. something inside pinches at his chest the thought makes him feel strange.

“Ha ha very funny” rolling your eyes taking a chip. “Please? You owe me for the times I let you sneak inside my apartment and treat your wounds” Togame looks at you as if he’s bored, also taking a chip pointing it at you before eating it. “That’s Practice for your nursing classes, I’m helping you”

You huff, thanks to him and the copious amount of chances of practice at dressing wounds from fighting. has given you a leg up on your classes. You shake your head, not giving up still. “I’ll pay for dinner for a month” bribing him with food always seems to work.

Although you see that tempted flicker in his eyes he still doesn’t agree fully. “Weddings means people. Lots of people who are strangers. You know I don’t do well in those situations” he shakes his eating another chip. Just the thought making him uncomfortable. You understand that but if you were going to take anyone you would like it to be him. So you are not giving up that easily. scooting closer on your hands and knees you look at him with puppy eyes. “I know, but you’ll be with me the entire time. I promise I won’t leave your side”.

Togame looks at you and his eyes widen slightly as he takes in your position next to him. His eyes roam your body quickly then back to your face. Praying that his face remains bored and not revealing how his heartbeat just increased. “…You really want me to go with you?” You nod. “I’ll even pay for your suit too!” You let out a breath. “I don’t wanna show up alone. Seeing everyone have someone…”

The mention of you not wanting to be alone. Makes him realize how alone you would be feeling if you went without him. The image of you alone watching everyone else around made an ache in his chest making him feel uneasy. He never wants you to feel like that and he dosnt want you to think you couldn’t rely on him. He lets out a breath “Don’t bother with the suit I can manage that”

Your eyes light up at his words accompanied with a smile that made him once again feel his heart do that flip it did each time you looked at him like that. “Is that a yes then?” You ask.

Togame eyes leave yours and takes another sip, trying to hide his blush. “You asked didn’t ya?”

You narrow your eyes as you go back on your knees crossing your arms. “If you were going to say yes in the first place. Did I even have to bribe you with food?” He grins, “oh I’m still holding you to free dinner. I have to recharge after all that socializing you’re makin me do” you scoff and give him a playful punch to the arm which he didn’t even flinch at, only raising a chuckle out of him. He puts his chin on his knee glancing at you with soft eyes as you turn back around picking at the snacks. starting to talk about the plans for this weekend. But what goes through his mind at the moment ,is that Togame would say yes to anything you’d ask of him. if you had asked him to gather the stars from your favorite constellation in the sky he would’ve burned his hands trying.

~ ~ ~

“Woah” your eyes land on him walking into your room dressed in his suit. he opted out on wearing a tie but the sight of him like this made you pause. The clean cut lines of the black materiel enhancing his presence, fitting his stature and figure. You were used to seeing him in relaxed laid back clothing. So you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face as you took him in, feeling your heart quicken. “you look good in a suit” Togame pauses for a second before he glances away sticking his hands in his pockets feeling his face flush.

“You called for me?” He says in a mumble.

“Oh yes, can you zip up the last part for me?” You turn around with your back facing him. moving your hair over your shoulder to give him access to the back of the dress. You don’t see him but Togam’s usually calm eyes had gone wide as he now looked at you fully. Eyes going down your figure in the dress, the color completing your skin and material hugging you just right that made Togame swallow trying to regulate the warmth that suddenly spread through his body.

“Sure” the word coming out low and short as he tried to control his voice from showing how you were affecting him at that moment. He steps towards you coming to stand behind you, the closeness making his breath a little ragged. His large hands shake a little when reaching for the zipper at your middle back. He curses internally trying to steady his hands. The zipper falls once before he grasps the small handle in his fingers pulling it up, his eyes zeroing on the zipper covering your delicate skin. His fingers itch to touch you, one finger brushing up your skin lightly at the top. He pretends he doesn’t see you shiver.

His deep voice coming from above your head rumbles out. “…there you go” he lets his hand drop. Clenching it like he’s trying to keep the sensation of your skin on his finger tip before shoving his hands into his pockets.

You hope he doesn’t hear your shaky breath as you open your eyes, wanting to stay at this proximity with him for a moment longer. Wanting to step back into his chest, his tall frame pressing into you, wanting to feel his light hesitant touch again. You shake your head internally. you turn around with a smile “thank you! so how do I look? The dress?”

‘Lovely like an angel’ was what Togame wanted to say. Quite honestly, is always what he thought when he looked at you. Beautiful, gentle, compassionate and a light that draws him too you. Like a man following a whisper in hopes it will answer his prayers. his eyes took you in wanting to commit the image into memory. as he will try to a hundred times that night.

“pretty….i mean the dress is cool- pretty- You look nice…” is what comes out of his mouth. once again he curses at himself what was going on with him? He was always so sure of his words and actions in a fight. But right now, standing before you like this, looking like that. He takes in a breath, he felt like a stuttering nervous mess. “You look Really nice….” He tries to save himself. His eyes land on yours and he can see the tilt of a playful smile on your face as you thank him. He he nodes and turns his face, grabbing your purse and coat of choice.

“Anyway. Ready? Let’s start heading out” he ushers out already making his way out of your room. Moving your items out of reach when you ask for them back. He just shakes his head not letting you carry them.

~ ~ ~

The wedding reception venue was spacious enough that it didn’t make Togame feel stuffed in. True to your word you had stayed by his side the entrity of the day. Making sure his plate was always full, Taking the forefront of the talking to other guests as he stood slightly behind you with a small polite smile and exchanged words when needed.

He liked watching you interact with others. in the lively way he came to adore. Your smile distracting him more than enough times throughout the celebration.

He searched for that smile now. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom a moment ago and hadn’t returned after a few minutes. he suspected you were probably caught up in a conversation with a friend or something so he didn’t stress to much about it. But as the minutes ticked by he started to wonder where exactly where you. Then Noticing the glances of some guests, who he knew where wanting to talk to him. Togame skin bristled and decided to look for you before he was caught into an awkward conversation he wanted no part of.

As he walked His eyes scanned the venue. Then narrowed on you talking to a guy. He breaths out a sigh of relief since now he has a visual one you and just like he thought you where hold up in a conversation with a friend. However as he kept looking your way, he noticed the guys body language was more than friendly. Togame heart picked up as his eyes landed on your face and instantly knew you were uncomfortable.

“I suggest you get your hearin checked. She told you no twice.” Togame deep voice reaches your ears behind you. The man before you, who was trying to ask you out wavers as he takes in Togame’s height and the glare in Togame’s eyes as he looks down at the man makes him swallow. A sight Togame is used to with his various fighting opponents. but right now, specifically with this man it brings him significantly more pleasure to see the guy squirm.

“Hey man didn’t they tell you in school not to butt into private conversations?” The man still tries to put on a face of confidence. Togame girls tilting his head to the side “funny” his voice deep as he takes the man’s hand off your shoulder clenching the man’s wrist in his hand. “didn’t they also teach you in school to keep your hands to yourself?”

The man lets out a small whimper at the pain, your eyes widen slightly looking between both guys. “I was trying to be nice man. Who even are you?” The man lets out, trying to pull away from Togame’s hold. The tall green eyed man beside you smiles tightly “not from where I was standing, man and I’m thier boyfriend so I suggest you take your niceness and wondering hands somewhere else, yeah?” The man that was flirting with you gives you a startled glance between you too. Togame releases him and you both watch the man walk away rubbing his wrist letting out a curse that makes Togame blood heat up again, taking a step making the man let out what seems like a yelp before hurrying off.

“It’s okay, Togame let him go” your voice brings his attention to you, taking your face in. swearing he could see a blush on your cheeks but he blames it on the alcohol you’ve been drinking. He counted already three in your system, keeping count. His eyes quickly softening. “Are you alright? I saw that asshole not taking the hint so I had to...” you quirk your lip up “yeah,I think you scared him from talking to any more girls for the rest of the night” the tall man before you smiles at your comment.

“But you didn’t need to do that though” you say with a sigh. he puts his hands in his pockets. “Of course I did. The creep wouldn’t have left you alone otherwise” granted there was a bit more to why he wanted to get that creep off of you other than protecting you. Seeing you like that with someone else had stirred something in his chest, a feeling he has felt before but each time decided to brush it away.

your eyes glance away “no I mean, saying you were my, boyfriend. I’m sure you could have scared him off with just a look. You didn’t need to say that” hearing him say such a simple word shouldn’t have been a big deal, he just used it to get that guy to go but you can’t deny that it made your heart race and cheeks flush at hearing him call himself your boyfriend. How many nights did you think about if that could be the case one day?

Togame looks down at you and notices your averted gaze. He thinks maybe he over stepped by saying that. But The words felt right to say, he liked how it sounded calling himself yours. the image that flashes in his mind of you and him together makes him flush and he can feel his hands tremble slightly in his suit pockets. Deciding to say something he has been holding on to for so long.

He nodes although you can’t see him. “Maybe” he takes in a breath trying to steady himself for what’s to come. “but what if I wanted it to be true?” Togame’s eyes never leave your face wanting to watch your reaction. He’s always a grounded fighter, balanced and prepared. never letting his opponent waiver his confidence but right now he feels like the world is off its axis not being able to read your body language.

He tries to hold off and let you speak first but when your eyes look at his in surprise. his mouth is already opening. His usual calm demeanor slipping slightly. “I…I just”

he closes his eyes trying to regain what little composure he has left. He looks back at you. “something between us has changed during these last few months hasn’t it? Changed into something that isn’t just friendship” For Togame he had always thought you were beautiful, someone’s who’s light he wanted to follow and protect. He thought being friends with you was enough . But then glances started to last a little longer, innocent touches started feeling charged, and he realized he didn’t just want your smile to be directed at him he wanted to be the reason and sole witness of it.

Togame steps closer as he continues “Or…am I just reading whatever this is between us now wrong and stupidly created a mirage of sorts.” His chest tightens as he thinks of what would happen if you didn’t feel the same. “If yes….then just pretend I didn’t say anything in the first place. I don’t want this to affect our friendship but….i understand if you need-“ he feels your lips on his cheek cutting him off. “Are you going to let me talk?” You say with a slight smile.

If Togame felt like the worlds axis was off before now he felt it was spinning to fast. Going back on your feet from going on your toes to reach his cheek you continue “I agree, things have changed between us. Togame I would like it to be real as well. To call you mine”

That ache in his chest burts into an unexplainable happiness spreading throughout his body. Togame pulls out his hands and cups your face, a genuine smile on his handsome face “I’ve been yours since the day you first saw me” his deep voice goes between you two as the distance closes. Togame swears your kiss weakens gravity, feeling like you both are floating up to meet the stars.

[grapenamjams]

I eat these fics up always

Calling them by something else than your nickname for them

Pairings: All x GN!Reader

Summary: this is basically inspired by that trend where people call their partners by their names instead of nicknames and because I’ve tried this on my bf, and he gets sad everytime LOL!

Warnings: Brief angst for Bob and Bucky but otherwise, it’s just cutesy stuff <3 wrote this in a hurry, hope y’all like it! please like and reblog 🤭

divider by @saradika

Joaquin Torres

There was this trend going around lately, where people called their partners with their name instead of nicknames. And you just knew that you had to try this on Joaquin because 1) he lived to hear you call him ‘Quino’ or ‘Jay’ or ‘Baby’ and 2) you only called him Joaquin when you had something serious to discuss or when the two of you were fighting.

Letting out a giggle, you decided to try this on him through text first. It was a Sunday, so he was out in the gym with Sam while you were lounging around in your shared bedroom, enjoying a day off from work.

You: Joaquin.

You: Could you go to the store and get some bread? We’re out, and we need it for the sandwich we’re making today.

You knew that he had a special ringtone for your text notifications, so you didn’t have to wait that long before he replied back.

And you were right, approximately a minute later, he replied back and you burst out in laughter.

Quino 💟: ?

Quino 💟: did something happen? are you okay?

Quino 💟: did I do something?

You: ..no? Why?

Quino 💟: 😟

Quino 💟: im coming home

You almost felt bad for freaking him out like that. Almost.

The door opened a few minutes later and—

“Baby?”, he called out as his feet pattered against the hardwood floors, quickly making his way around the apartment to get to you.

You bit your cheek to stop from laughing in his face, busying yourself with your phone by pretending to read something on it.

He finally entered the bedroom, chest heaving from how he had basically ran here, hands resting on his hips and you were so sure his cheeks were splotched with red from the work out.

"Hey, angel?", he called you once again, his voice coming out in a breathy manner.

You hummed and finally looked at him. His toned arms glistening with sweat, the tank top stretched tight across his form and his body glowing with sweat, curls falling into breathtaking waves around his head and a cute dent in between his brows.

It's annoying how gorgeous he is.

"Are you okay?"

You furrowed your brows, "Why do you keep asking that, Joaquin?"

He winced. His mouth tugged into a frown and brown eyes blown wide. You almost gave up.

"Did--did I do somethin'?", he asked in worry, making his way over to the bed and sitting down in front of you, hands restlessly braced against his thighs, twitching to hold yours in his.

You feigned confusion, "What-Joaquin, if something was-"

"That!", he interrupted you loudly, looking at you incredulously.

You blinked, "That, what?"

He groaned like a child, this close to stomping his feet, his face adorably scrunched up in annoyance, "You keep calling me Joaquin!", and he pouted.

You pursed your lips, "Joaquin, come on, is that not your name?", eyes sparkling with mischief.

His eyes widened again, hands coming up to cradle your face in them and he leaned close, "Angel, stop that! That's not my name. It's Quino or Baby to you", he stressed, face melting into confusion and sadness both.

You took a good look at his saddened face, brown eyes looking at you like a kicked puppy, his plush lips twisted into a frown and voice so soft that you couldn't help but let out a sweet giggle.

He sulked even further and you finally put your hands on his face, unable to resist from consoling him any longer. He tilted his head in confusion at your reaction.

"I'm sorry, baby. It was just a prank", you confessed in between giggles.

He perked up at the nickname, eyes blinking in realisation before he groaned, "You're mean", his cheeks squished by your hands, lips molded into a pout because of it.

You scrunched your nose, "Maybe. But you, are so cute", you cooed and leaned in to kiss his lips and cheeks.

"Don't do that again. I was so worried", he muttered lowly, leaning into the kisses you pressed to his cheeks, hands coming around your waist to hold you close.

You breathed a laugh against the swell of his cheek before moving to his forehead and peppering soft kisses on it. You pulled back and looked at him, his mouth still set into a pout.

Holding his chin in your hand you kissed his pout, before pulling away to kiss his cheeks again.

"My quino", you muttered against his cheek and he let out a content sigh, humming in agreement before burying his face into your neck.

Bob Reynolds

One of Bob's most favorite thing about dating you, was that you almost never called him Bobby or Bob. 'Bobby' was a sore spot for him, because his father had tainted it by his demeaning and abusive behavior and 'Bob' was, well, boring, because everyone called him that. You though? You'd rather call him 'Rob', 'Babe(s)' or his personal favorites: 'Honey(bee)' or 'Bear'.

Imagine the confusion and heartbreak he felt, when you had accidentally called him Bob during a late night meeting today.

The entire team had gathered in the conference room of the Watchtower for a group meeting, regarding the next mission that all of you were going to take part in. You had a habit of taking notes, Bob knew this well and he often carried your diary with him, your neat and organised notes helping him massively.

"Bob, could you pass me my diary?", you offhandedly requested him, your attention shifting to the other side as Ava asked you something.

Bob paused, an uncomfortable look crossing over his face before he schooled it and handed you your diary. You whispered a small thank you before jotting down all the important information, your head buried into the diary meanwhile Bob looked at you in longing, his thumb picking at the skin around his pointer finger in nervousness.

Had he done something wrong? Why did you call him Bob? Did he upset you in some way? His brain was working overtime to convince him that he had upset you. That he had done something wrong like he always does. It was agonising to sit through the meeting, his thoughts were spiraling and chest aching, lips turning red from how much he was gnawing on them with his teeth.

Finally the meeting ended an hour later, Bob at his wit's end and the moment it was done, he speed walked to his room, to avoid talking to anyone. He shut the door and sat on the bed in silence, the noise in his head making it physically impossible for him to stand. He wasn't sure what you would do if you came looking for him. Would you get mad? Would he say something that he'll regret later? What if you don't come looking for him, at all? He swallowed his tears with great difficulty and chose to distract the intrusive thoughts by reading a light hearted book.

You on the other hand, were confused. He was sitting right next to you, where did he disappear suddenly?

"Guys, where's Bob?", you asked everyone in confusion. They looked around the room helplessly and seemed to have realised at the same time as you.

"He- he was right here...", Yelena murmured lowly.

"I think I saw him go out...Don't know where", Alexei replied casually, your eyebrows scrunching further. You took their leave and immediately left the room, checking in his favourite reading nook first- he wasn't there. Then you checked in the kitchen, he liked to have tea before sleeping, so you thought he must be preparing that but, no luck. You checked in your room, and he wasn't there either. There was only place left to check, his own room.

You let out a sigh of relief as you opened the door to his room. There was, sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, black sweatpants covered legs outstretched, his maroon sweater making him look extra soft, hands half covered with the oversized sleeves and his curls were shorter now, they fell on his forehead in soft waves, making him look like an angel. The golden hue of the lamp from the sidetable made his profile glow, gentle hands thumbing the pages carefully.

"Honey, I've been looking for you", you announced in a quiet voice, shutting the door behind you just as carefully, not wanting to scare him. He still flinched, glossy blue eyes looking up at you in surprise, as if he couldn't believe you're here. You frowned and sat next to him, your legs folded snugly and body facing his.

"What's wrong? You didn't tell me you were leaving", you asked him softly, a hand coming up to brush his hair back. He licked his lips, eyes observing your face closely. his eyes shining in the low light.

"You're not upset with me?", he asked tentatively, as if he was anticipating a fight.

You frowned harder, "Why would I be upset, babe?"

His eyes widened slightly, swallowing thickly. You watched a light pink blush dust his cheeks and ears.

"I- well. You...you called me Bob today, in the meeting", he managed to blurt out, his deep voice coming out scratchy because of how long he had sat in silence.

"I-I don't understand...", you trailed in deep thought. He thought you were upset because you called him Bob?

He rubbed his eyes with a hand, trying to distract himself from the embarrassment, "You don't call me Bob. You call me Babe. Or-or Honey. I just...I thought you were upset because you didn't say any of those names. So yeah...That's...that's it."

He was red in the face as he finished talking, his fingers fiddling with the book and eyes avoiding yours at any cost. You felt your heart melt. He was so observant with everything you did, it was a blessing yet curse. Curse, because his beautiful mind ended up reaching to conclusions that weren't true in any capacity.

You smiled at him softly, a hand gingerly taking his book and placing it face down on the bed before climbing on his lap, your legs going around his waist and arms circling his neck. He froze before hesitantly wrapping his arms around your back, securing you in his arms and stared at your collarbones instead, a somber look on his face that somehow, made him look softer.

"Honey, I'm so sorry", you cooed earnestly, a hand massaging the curls by the nape of his neck.

"Everyone kept calling you Bob, so I just happened to unknowingly pick it up, and called you that in a flow. I swear, I am not upset with you. I was just distracted. I'm really sorry, babe", you mumbled sincerely, pressing a tender kiss to his pointed nose.

He then looked up at you, his ocean blue eyes staring at you in wonder, face awash with relief and fondness. He buried his face into your neck and brought you closer, nose pressed into the skin and lips brushing against it as he spoke in a meek voice, "No, don't apologise. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that...I'm sorry, (Nickname)", arms wound tightly around your back, curls tickling you lightly.

You smiled lovingly and leaned your head against his, hands smoothing across his broad back, and rocked your bodies side to side.

"It's okay, baby. I got you", you breathed out and kissed his temple, him returning it with a kiss to your neck.

Bucky Barnes

Bucky's first name itself was a nickname, yes. But the nicknames that you gave him were so special to him, that he'd feel like he was missing something if you didn't call him by any one of those.

They had a wide range: you'd call him 'Bucko' if you were feeling clingy, or 'James' if you were feeling particularly romantic and you'd call him 'Babe' or 'Baby' in almost every sentence. You'd call him 'Honey' if he was having a bad day, keeping the tone as sweet as honey to soothe him and he'd melt into a puddle in your arms. There were other silly names that you'd call him to tease him: old man, peepaw and sometimes, baby girl (that one confused him, because he's not a girl??? you told him he wouldn't understand. He sulked, Sam and Joaquin made fun of him.)

He hated how you'd call him 'Barnes' when you were angry. You two rarely argued, but when you did, it would be hurtful because neither of you liked to yell at the other. So it was usually sharp defenses thrown towards each other, or silent treatment.

Bucky hated both, but he hated when you'd call him 'Barnes' in that rough, irritated and solemn voice, even more. He felt like you were his colleague instead of his soulmate, then. He'd feel his chest ache, every single time.

So imagine his shock, when you called him that right now, as he was in the bedroom, picking out clothes for today's Senate meeting while you were in the kitchen.

"Barnes!"

He straightened up, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as well. He felt like a soldier in the barracks again, the way he was standing in attention at your call. He took the time to think about what did he do today, did he do something to piss you off? Did he forget something? He felt a brush against his legs, and he looked down to look at the tiniest, white furred member of the Barnes household.

"D’you know why they’re mad, Alpine?", he murmured to the cat, who stared at him with her sharp blue eyes and meowed, her eyes slowly blinking as if she was saying ‘Yes, dad.’

Bucky sighed and trudged back to the kitchen, his body sulked as he wondered what he did to make you call him by his last name.

There you were, standing by the sink, your arms folded across your chest and eyes instantly looking up as you heard his footsteps. Alpine brushed past him and stood by you elegantly, as if she was chiding him as well.

Bucky stood there nervously, a hand brushing over his stomach, as if calming down his nerves.

“Yes, sweetheart?”, he offered in a croaky voice, extending an olive branch beforehand.

You sighed and Bucky flinched.

You paused. Eyes observing him closely. How did you miss his tensed expression?

Furrowing your brows you walked over to him, “Hey, are you okay?”, your voice soft and careful.

Bucky swallowed before clearing his throat, hand raised to push his hair back.

“You- did I do somethin’ to upset you? I’m sorry if I did, I don’t remember-”, his voice cut off, him inhaling deeply from his nose.

“Whatever it is, I’m sorry. I don’t remember what I did, doll. I’m sorry-”

Your eyes widened. What was he saying? Why was he so anxious?

“Whoa, hey. What’re you saying, Buck? I’m not- you didn’t upset me. What’s happening?”, you replied, your hands coming up to massage his shoulders.

Bucky looked up at you in surprise, “What- but you…”, he gaped at you like a fish.

“But what, babe? You can tell me anything”, you murmured in reassurance.

And suddenly, Bucky felt stupid for assuming the worst. His ears warmed up in embarrassment.

“I-ugh. I thought you were mad at me because you…you called me Barnes”, he winced.

You frowned, “What—”

Bucky sighed, “You call me Barnes when you’re mad at me or when we’re fighting so I thought…”, he shrugged. Your face shifted in understanding and you let out a giggle, hands bracing against his shoulders. He grumbled, squeezing your waist.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I was just-I was annoyed because you put your damn arm in the dishwasher again!”, you let out between giggles, watching as his face slacked in relief and realisation.

“Oh-”, he gave you a sheepish smile and ducked his head shyly. You laughed and squished his cheeks.

“Please find an alternative for the arm, honey. I need that dishwasher, hm?”, you cooed and leaned in to press a kiss to his heated up cheeks. Alpine brushed against your legs, letting out a ‘mrow’ that you took as her agreeing with you.

“See! Even your daughter agrees”, you teased him and bent down to give Alpine a nice scratch. She purred.

Bucky glared at her and murmured, “Traitor”, to which she narrowed her eyes and went back to leaning into your pets again. Bucky looked at his two girls and smiled, happy that he was proven wrong.

Sam Wilson

If there’s one thing that Sam disliked the most, it’s his full name: Samuel. Ever since he was bullied for that in school, he had decided that he’d shorten it, and make ‘Sam’ as his official name instead of Samuel.

He was Sam to all his friends and colleagues, Wilson to his fellow armymen and agents, but he was Sammy to you. Now, you did have different nicknames for him, but something about the way ‘Sammy’ rolled off your tongue, made him feel all giddy and special inside. You’d say it with so much love and affection, a bright smile on your face as you called him, that he’d stop responding to your calls if you tried calling him ‘Sam’.

It began slowly, but with time, you’d realised that he did that on purpose, so that he could hear you call him Sammy instead. It was cute, the way he’d pout and sulk until you called him Sammy. It was all in jest, your relationship was like that. All teasing and giggles and full of inside jokes.

But sometimes, it just slipped from your mind.

And that some time happened to be today, as he came back from a mission, tired and exhausted. He showered, changed into his night clothes and just crashed on the bed face first, you following closely as you shut off all the lights in the house before stepping into the bedroom.

He let out a loud groan into the pillow and you smile in sympathy, sitting down next to him and smoothing a hand across his broad back.

“Long day?”, you asked quietly, the sound of the AC and a distant sound of vehicles driving past, being the only noises to be heard.

Sam inhaled deeply, his back expanding beneath your hands and he begun, “Like you wouldn’t believe. Lost our target because the intel forgot to give us the information on time. Had to run up a damn hill in a civilian area, couldn’t use the wings because we couldn’t blow our cover. That asshole made us run up and down thrice. My damn knees were dead by the second time”, his rough voice was muffled by his arms, head buried in them.

“Aw. I’m sorry, babe. C’mere”, you cooed and beckoned him close, leaning back against the headboard while he lifted his heavy body up, burying his head into your chest, strong arms wrapping around your back.

He nuzzled into your chest and sighed in contentment, “Can you read to me?”

“Of course”, you replied while picking up the book left on your side table, Pride and Prejudice, and begun reading it.

You had made Sam watch the 2005 movie and he was hooked. He thought he was hiding it well, but by the end of the movie, he was wiping his tears discreetly.

Halfway through your narration, you felt him doze off. His breathing was slower and light snores leaving his mouth.

You slowly closed your book, putting it aside and rubbing a hand across his arm.

“Sam? Let’s go to sleep, come on”, you gently coaxed him out of his slumber.

He breathed in deeply before humming, slowly lifting his head away from your chest before he abruptly paused, eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s up?”, you asked him as he laid back down on your chest, his warm embrace and woodsy scent engulfing you.

“What’d you say?”, he mumbled sleepily.

You frowned, “What’d I say..?”

“Go back, rewind a few seconds”, he jested and poked your tummy, tickling you lightly.

You squealed, “Sam! Stop—no!”, twisting around to escape his strong hold.

“Ah, Ah! You did it again!”, Sam was fully awake now, propping himself up on an arm while his free hand kept tickling you.

“Oh g-god! No! Sam, stop it! P-please! What did I do!?”, you stuttered out in between laughs.

“Babe. That’s Sammy or Babe or Baby, for you. Not Sam”, he chided you and stopped tickling, a serious look on his face.

You stopped laughing, clutching your stomach as it cramped. Once you had recovered, your face shifted in understanding, and you let out a tiny gasp.

“Oh! Ohhh…”, you smiled brightly, pinching his chin in your fingers lovingly. He jutted out his bottom lip.

“Now, gimme a proper welcome”, he grumbled and held your wrist in his big hands.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I missed you”, you said softly and cradled his face in your palms instead.

He smiled bashfully then, gaped teeth on display and everything. You joined him, pulling him closer and kissing him lovingly.

“Say it again”, he murmured against your lips.

You giggled, pinching his cheeks, “You are so cute, Sammy.”

He hummed and buried his face in your neck again, hugging you tightly.

“Now, we can sleep”, he mumbled into your neck, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

-

AN: this was a silly idea that was loitering around in my drafts for so long!!! Hope you all enjoyed this <3 might make a part 2 with other characters!

[grapenamjams]

Oh my goodness this is adorable ☀️🍮

Notepad

I draw some emoticons? of Nirei. And made simple gif.

[grapenamjams]

Part three of Ghost!707 AU

Three days. He had three days in his semi Corporal body— well, two days now after he had first appeared to the girl of his dreams yesterday.

Ghost!707 didn’t know for sure if he had three days. But since almost everything in media seemed to follow the rule of three, Why would this event be different? It was basic fictional/video game logic to him.

So three days was what he settled on.

Day two started off great. After you both found out, he could attach himself to an object and be able to travel where it went.

Like those possessed doll stories he’d read online. Once bought they started to haunt the house they were taken too.

Would holy water work on him?

Seeing that he is currently possessing your phone. He thinks you wouldn’t be up for dunking your phone in blessed water to test his hypothesis.

“— where too next?” Your voice pulls him out of his paranormal curiosity filled mind.

With your now possessed phone in your pocket, Ghost!707 was able to step over the threshold of the apartment into the world, for the first time since he had awoken in the in between.

Remaining close to you, you were able to take him around town. quickly, answering another curiosity, that you were in fact the only one who could see him walking—floating, beside you.

Which meant in stores, having you snatch away items he grabbed from the shelves before people started to wonder why there was floating DVDs on asile 11.

Ghost!707 puts his hands in his hoodie pockets. Looking up at the sky. Before answering you. “It’s gonna get dark soon. We should start heading back” he didn’t want you staying out to late. although the neighborhood was pretty safe from what he remembered. He didn’t want you walking the street at night. Running into a situation where he potentially couldn’t do anything to protect you.

The thought makes his hands curl into fists inside his pockets. He’d be useless in protecting something he’d cared about. Not like it wouldn’t be the first time.

Pushing the interfering thought back. He gives you a easy smile, one that doesn’t match the intensity of his golden eyes. One of many smiles you were now able to see on him. Making you wish you could come to understand what every single one of them meant.

Turning his shoulders slightly, signaling for you to start walking forward. You give him a nod in thanks and start down the street with him beside you.

“I was thinking, is there any family or friends you’d like to check in on? Now that you can move around maybe we could—“

“No” his voice is firm, a void from the light cadence his voice usually had. Hearing himself, he hates how his unfamiliar tone makes you stop with your shoulders slightly hitched.

His features darken, something you thought couldn’t be possible since his semi translucent body currently is letting beams of golden hour trespass through him. Making him look an ethereal being. Radiating light that flickered with untold mysteries around him.

Your eyes look down to your feet, recovering yourself from such a captivating sight. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“You’re okay” this time when his voice cuts in its softer but still restrained. He didn’t mean to sound harsh. He knows you’re just trying to help. Your heart always in the right place. Loving that about you.

He lets out a breath. a hand slips out of his hoodie pocket and gently brushes against your finger tips. The warmth sending a shiver through his system.

“I just …rather not…. Thanks though” his aching chest, soothes when he sees you finally look up at him. Paired with a small understanding smile.

Your owns finger tip bend to hold his, the small pressure, enough to comfort him. He nodes, the mood you’ve become used to comes back. “Come on, it’s getting dark and I hear there are ghosts around these parts”

[grapenamjams]

I’ve been wanting this POV hehehe

[grapenamjams]

Delicious 🤭

pairing: robert reynolds x reader cw: smut, mentions of the void, overstimulation, dumbifiaction, sub!robert, usage of the term 'good boy'.

robert reynolds is a pervert.

not in a sleazy, frat-boy way. not the kind of pervert that leaves behind smudges on phone screens or searches for content that disappears after midnight. no—bob’s perversion was quieter. more intentional. it was in the way he read. the way he lingered. the way he looked at you like you were the first and last real thing in a universe he barely believed in anymore. the kind that reads neuroscience books with a glassy look in his eyes and one hand suspiciously low on his thigh.

he was draped over the big, circular couch in the middle of the common space—gray, soft, impossibly wide. you’d insisted on it after moving in. you’d pointed out the couch in some overprice magazine—something walker scoffed at—and bob had ordered it the same day without saying a word, just a gentle nod like he understood what you were trying to do. you made space feel like something worth staying in.

the bar stark left behind had made the place look like an empty bachelor pad—just black glass, chrome, and a monument to drinking problems. that didn’t feel like a home, especially not with yelena tossing back beers like water, and walker nursing bourbon while pretending to read his own press.

so you’d pushed for the couch. something cozy. something human. and now there bob sat like a statue come to life, long limbs sprawled across the upholstery, fingers curled around a paperback. “reaching down the rabbit hole.”

you’d brought him the book that rainy sunday. the tower had gone soft and quiet, raindrops streaking the long windows of the library. you’d wandered off, fingers trailing along spines, stopping in the neuroscience section—bizarre, given that everything there usually put you to sleep. but you remembered him talking about it before. how damaged brains lied to themselves, how some patients created entire lives out of nothing just to make their reality feel whole. you’d caught maybe every third word he said, too mesmerized by the way he licked his lips when he got excited explaining neurons misfiring like overloaded circuits.

now, he was devouring it. not quickly—no, he moved through it like a man savoring a final meal. eyes slowly tracking each sentence. sometimes mouthing the words. sometimes whispering them like they mattered more than he did.

you were behind him, mixing a drink in one of those glasses that were too thin to feel real. the ice had melted. twice. but you were still standing there, watching him as he shifted on the couch, his broad frame sinking deeper into the cushions, spine curling just a little. his thighs parted naturally, his sweatpants stretched over the lazy curve of his cock—noticeably half-hard, twitching slightly under the thin fabric. maybe it was the book. maybe it was you.

maybe both.

your fingers absently stirring a drink in one of the highball glasses everyone kept reusing because nobody wanted to admit they were too lazy to do dishes. the spoon clinked gently, ice long since melted into a lukewarm pool. you stood just far enough that he couldn’t feel you, but close enough that you could smell him—the subtle scent of ozone and storm-scorched pine bark that clung to him no matter how often he bathed. the scent of the void, perhaps.

every now and then he licked the pink of his lips, slow and plush, and shifted like he needed to make room for something—like the fabric of those soft gray sweatpants was suddenly too tight across his thighs. he took his time with each sentence, eyes dark and gleaming, mouth slightly open. he was dissecting it, you knew. reading it the way he wanted to be touched.

god, he was teasing you.

or maybe you were projecting. maybe it was you who was the pervert, letting your eyes drift down the hard line of his stomach, to the subtle bulge rising beneath that book. the way he kept twitching, rolling his hips against nothing, like the words themselves were getting him off.

it wasn’t fair—how every little gesture from him felt like an invitation. the way his fingers slid over the paper like he was stroking skin. the way he exhaled through his nose, low and humming. the way he moved his hips to get comfortable, drawing your eye back to the heat pooling in his lap.

when your spoon finally tapped the edge of the glass, the chime rang out like a siren, and bob’s head turned toward you, slow and fluid. his gaze locked on yours, eyes molten gold, pupils slightly blown. your breath caught. the look he gave you was lazy. knowing. like he’d been aware of your stare this whole time and was just letting you think you were sneaky.

something flickered deep in your core. the press of damp fabric between your legs now felt unbearable. your panties clung to you like second skin—soaked, hot, aching.

you were a pervert—but maybe bob was even worse for letting you touch him like this.

your hands wrapped snugly around his pretty, leaking cock, and he was bucking up into your palms like a man possessed. the shape you made with your fingers had him gasping, breathy and high, whimpering out what you thought might be your name—until it broke into a needy, guttural whine that came from somewhere deep in his chest. god, he whined so much.

you tightened your grip, feeling the slick warmth of his pre cum trickling down your fingers, and he sucked in a sharp breath before his head dropped back against the pillow. he looked ruined—beautiful. lips parted and pink, eyes squeezed shut. you swore you could see the gloss of tears clinging to his lashes, streaking faintly down his cheeks. his chest heaved, his throat worked visibly as he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth.

you started moving your hand again—slow, deliberate strokes that dragged from base to tip with a little twist at the top, just how he liked it. the sound it made was obscene: wet, sticky, lewd, echoing through the room like it wanted to humiliate him.

you leaned down, pressed a kiss to the flushed column of his neck, humming low as you felt a desperate little “please” spill past his lips. you started moving your hand again, slow and tight. the slick, obscene sounds of it filled the room.

“baby,” you murmured against his skin, “you said you were gonna tell me what you were reading about, remember?”

“uh-huh,” he breathed, a thin, helpless sound—like the wind had been knocked from him. there was nothing left in him but pleasure, but you pulled back just enough to force his mind to scramble for the right words. desperate to keep your hand on him, he spoke.

“it was—fuck, wait—neuro—neurotransmitters,” he gasped, words tumbling over each other as his hips twitched again. “dopamine, mostly. i—i was reading about how it spikes during sex—fucking hell—and how just, just touching like this—oh god—it lights up the reward system, m-makes the brain think it’s dying or flying—shit, i don’t even know—”

his voice cracked into a moan, thick and raw. you watched his lashes flutter, lips trembling as he tried again.

“and oxytocin—‘s the bonding one, the cuddle chemical or whatever—jesus, your hands—baby, your hands—” he whined, nearly sobbing with it now, legs twitching as he babbled. “it makes you—mmf—makes you crave the person touching you. that’s why i can’t—why i can’t think when you—ah, fuck—when you do that thing with your thumb—!”

you obliged, dragging your thumb slowly over his leaking tip, watching his entire body jolt under your touch. he sobbed.

“please, i don’t—don’t even know what i’m saying anymore,” he hiccuped, voice breaking as he clenched the sheets, trying to stay grounded. “there’s this part of the brain—nucleus accumbens—that lights up like a fucking—fuck, a firework—when you touch me like this. i—i read that. i swear i read that, baby, i just—oh god.”

he squirmed under you, legs shifting restlessly, hips twitching up in search of more, always more. every little movement of your wrist pulled another moan from him, another soft curse or hiccuping breath. you watched the way his body responded—so open, so reactive. the way his thighs tensed, his belly fluttered, his toes curled. the way his throat bobbed again and again like he was trying not to choke on how good it felt.

you gave him more. your pace stayed slow, steady, torturously controlled. you gripped tighter, just a bit, and felt the tension in him spike. his cock was flushed red, veins standing out, the head swollen and slick with so much pre it coated your fingers, dripped down to your wrist. he was absolutely soaked.

your thumb swept over the sensitive ridge just beneath the tip once more and his whole body arched—his back lifting clean off the mattress, mouth falling open in a soundless cry. his hands clawed at the sheets, knuckles white, nails dragging lines in the fabric like he was trying to hold on to something—anything

you leaned down, kissed the underside of his cock, then the head, soft and slow like you were worshipping him. the taste of him stuck to your lips—salty and hot like honey drawn from a fever dream. you felt his thighs tremble again.

he was close.

your hand sped up just a little, slick sounds building louder, rougher, the friction bordering on unbearable. his head thrashed from side to side, hair clinging to his temples, chest heaving with every breath he couldn’t catch. he was unraveling—falling apart with nothing but your hand around his cock and your mouth praising every inch of him.

“you’re so smart, bobby,” you whispered, voice soft and adoring, your lips brushing the head of his cock before kissing it sweetly. his milky pre clung to your mouth like honey. and the praise—just like always—hit his cock first and his brain second. that broke him.

his entire body seized—legs locked tight, back arcing sharply off the bed, muscles pulling taut like a drawn bow. his mouth dropped open in a cracked, ragged cry that caught in his throat and splintered into a gasping moan. his cock gave a heavy twitch in your grip—then another—and then he came.

hot, thick release spilled from him in violent pulses, the first rope hitting your wrist with a warm, wet slap. it was creamy, almost milky in color, streaking across your hand and his lower belly in messy, uneven lines. he came hard—a lot—like his body had been holding it back for far too long. more followed in sharp bursts, painting his skin in long, slow ribbons that glistened in the low bedroom light. it clung to him, sticky and hot, catching in the fine trail of hair below his navel, smearing against his tense abdomen, dripping from the flushed head of his cock in long, glossy strands. your grip stayed steady, coaxing him through it with tender, unrelenting strokes. he whined—high and soft and pitiful—as his hips gave a last, desperate jerk, like his body still hadn’t caught up with the release tearing through it.

“good boy,” you breathed, voice low, thick with praise and want. “look at you, baby. that’s it. you made such a mess.”

the words hit him like a second orgasm.

he whimpered again, legs trembling, hands fisting into the sheets with weak desperation. his chest rose and fell in frantic, shallow gasps, sweat-slick skin glowing in the soft light, flushed pink across his cheeks, his chest, the tips of his ears. he looked utterly, exquisitely ruined—come-drunk, dazed, blinking up at you like he couldn’t remember how to speak.

you watched his release slowly slide down his skin—thick drops trailing along the curve of his hip, pooling slightly in the dip between his abs. you swiped your fingers through it, sticky and warm, then brought them to your lips and licked him clean, deliberately slow—letting him see it.

he groaned, eyes fluttering shut like he was about to fall apart all over again.

“…did you… retain any of that?” he asked between gasps, voice wrecked.

you laughed softly, “not entirely, tell me tomorrow—i want to learn.” and honestly you had, for whatever interested bob in its own way interested you.

you crawled up beside him, tugging the throw blanket from the back of the couch to wipe your hands, still warm and shaking from the intensity. bob curled into you, heavy and loose with post-orgasmic bliss. his head rested against your chest like it belonged there.

outside, the rain hadn’t stopped.

and in the space between seconds — the quiet hum of a god drifting into sleep — the world felt almost safe.

[grapenamjams]

This story has me in a chokehold! 🩶

there's no death here | robert "bob" reynolds [masterlist]

ao3 version

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 3.5

[grapenamjams]

We like this 🤞🏼

[grapenamjams]

Oh Nothing just thinking about Marius von Hagen sensitive dick again. specifically two scenarios

(Coming in pants, fingers in mouth m.receiving, overstim, use of paint brushes, nipple play m. Receiving, character orgasms only)

If you’re ever straddling him when making out. he makes sure to put you on his thigh so your rocking hips move against his leg. Knowing if you were too grind against his clothed bulge he’d have a stain soon after.

But tonight you remained fixed on your position. Tightening your thighs when he tried to shift you onto his thigh. Rousing amused words to be said against your lips at your defiance. His breath already becoming shaky.

You grind against him feeling his erection swell underneath his pants. His usually precise hands that know which stroke they’ll manipulate the brush into before it touches the canvas—are now torn between wanting to slow your movements or bring you down harder against him.

Moaning into your mouth as he feels the tightening of his body build already. He pulls away, from your plumped kissed lips. Chest moving with raspy breathes, his violet eyes glistening with need contradicting the teasing words leaving his mouth, the corner of his smirk wavering. Realizing that you’re not giving into him tonight.

You know he’s using his words as a distraction to give him time to calm down. But knowing this you grind harder against him. Having him suck a breath in before it breaks into a whimper.

Kissing and licking his graceful neck makes his body tremble. For his playful remarks you slip two fingers into his mouth which he finds himself eagerly accepting. Relishing in being able to give himself over to you tonight. moaning a muffled “Miss” around your fingers.

Turning his head to the side giving you more acesses to his neck. Along with your rocking hips. It’s not soon after that his muffled moan around your fingers accompany the spasm of his hips under yours as he comes. The evidence of his pleasure blooming under the fabric his pants.

💜Two for the price of one >.<💜

All great artist test their brushes before using them.

Is the reasoning that you gave Marius von Hagen when you drag a paint brush from his new set—Down his neck and throat.

He sits on his stool in his studio. Hands gripping the round sides as his breath becomes unsteady the more you maneuver brush against skin.

Across the curve of his collarbones, circular motions on his chest— he bites his lip a whine still managing to escape at the soft bristles going over his nipples. you go lower, tracing the contour lines of his abdomen with each button you undo from his button down shirt. Leaving it open on him.

finally with an amused smile, you brush up and down the underside of his hard cock. Watching it twitch without restrain. Hearing his surprised moan at how it feels.

Circling around his head, the soft strands go over the blushed color on his swollen tip.letting Precum drip down in a thick strand.

His voice wavers as he tries to speak in that pouty tone of his as you grab another brush and mindlessly drag it along the inside of his thigh. Both hands working him, in a gentle deliberate pace. Still it lights his body ablaze, squirming on the chair.

After a couple of more strokes from the paint brushes Marius gasps suddenly— pleasure overcoming him with now warning watching his release spurt up on to his exposed abdomen.

Proud of your masterpiece, you lean down and lick up his stomach, simultaneously taking him in your hand, rubbing the head with your thumb and finger fingers. Marius curses,a hand reaches for your wrist in a automatic response to the oversensitivity. But his hold isn’t tight to stop you. His eyes are swimming with amazement and want.

[grapenamjams]

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ♡ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍 𝙁𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙑𝘼𝙇 ♡ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

[grapenamjams]

FOOD STALL WORKER TOGAME CAME HOME!!!! AHHHHHH

[grapenamjams]

WHEN WILL WE GET A DARIUS ROUTE HUH!???

[grapenamjams]

*Boops and pats head*

What is that on my bed??? And he whispers something like "Sing"???

[grapenamjams]

This made my night 🥹

soft kissing hour. tags : fluff, fem!reader, touchy togame, mentions of reader wearing make up wc : 950 - Less is more. Togame likes to live by that simple rule in more than only one way. Whether that be his clothing, his minimalistically decorated home, or his decision to exchange his long messy mullet with a plain short undercut a few years ago. As cheesy as it sounds, he just thinks that it is important to appreciate the mundane things in life.

His conviction is even further undermined once your silhouette appears in the doorway of his bedroom.

It is the first time that you’re actually spending the night at his, and to say that he’s more than elated is an understatement.

Being able to watch you pad around his room in his own clothes, hold you in the comfort of his bed, and having the honor to have you being the last thing he sees before falling asleep as well as the first thing when he wakes up the following morning. The simple thought of it makes him only now aware of the fact that his home has been missing something significant all this time. You.

That's why you're met with the most gentle smile once you walk over to the unoccupied side of the bed, clad in an old shirt of his and sweat shorts.

A light shiver runs through your body accompanied with goosebumps rising along your skin once you slip under cold sheets. Yet when Togame's arm reaches out and pulls you in by your waist, you can't hold back the little hum of contentment once you feel his warmth.

You always tell him that he's a walking furnace. Especially on days when he calls you a living icicle. When your freezing fingers meet his warm palms, or when you bury your cold nose in the crevice of his neck, soaking in his warmth and the woody scent of his that you've gotten so very addicted to.

"I don't think I've seen you like this before." He speaks lowly once you're nestled against him, your head resting on his upper arm.

"Like what?" You breathe out and wonder whether he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. His lips are so close, all you would have to do is lean in the slightest bit only to taste him, slot your mouth against his and forget the entire world around you.

His soft gaze travels across your face. Your eyes, your lips, your jaw, your nose, again your lips-

Your eyebrows perk up when he opens his mouth, obviously unsure about how to word his thoughts. There's a stuttering beat against your chest, and you have no clue whether it is yours or his. A second passes, then another, and when the suspense is getting almost unbearable, Togame only sighs. You both giggle in unison when he just curses while a rosey blush suddenly dusts over his cheeks.

"Jo! Come on, just say it already." The corners of your mouth are starting to hurt from the bright grin plastered on your face. Though it falls slowly when his palm cups your jaw, and he just silently looks at you.

Your heart swells at how tenderly his thumb swipes over the skin of your cheek. Togame Jo, a man so strong yet a man who knows that the blessing of such a strength comes with certain responsibilities.

His broad shoulders and back have always been an advantage when facing adversaries, allowing him to intimidate them easily. Now, he knows that those same shoulders are meant to carry any burdens that seem to weigh you down.

Big strong hands that have punched and broken so much, been covered in blood for way too many times. Now, he can use those same hands to gently hold your softer ones in his, glide them over the plush skin of your curves and feel your warmth.

"What are you doing?" You giggle quietly when his thumb slides higher up to the corner of your eyes, tracing the dark shades which are usually covered by a light sheen of concealer. He can easily move the pad of his finger over your eyebrows and down your nose bridge without you whining about how he's messing up your make up.

"You're just-" You follow his eyes which somehow seem to drift all over your face, as if he wants to take in all of you and burn every single detail into his memory. There's just something so satisfying about being able to see every single mark and blemish on your skin, and it's crazy how he has thought that you could not be any prettier. Yet here you are, taking his breath away and leaving his mind empty, and unable to come up with words to properly describe you. "Pretty. Very."

A beat of silence passes, while you blink at him.

"My boyfriend has such a way with words." Your voice is a pitch higher as you fan your face, containing your smile with a bite on your lip until you shriek when his teeth suddenly graze your jaw.

"Maybe my girlfriend should have dated a poet instead then." There's something darker in his voice as he looks at you through hooded eyes. As if even the single thought of you with someone else is able to kindle a fire inside him that could only ever be extinguished by you yourself.

No, Togame may not be your classical poet. However the way his body language speaks to you, reacts to you, how his fingers trace all kinds of shapes into your skin, how his eyes roam all over your body, pupils dilating and throwing shadows into the green forest in his eyes- It's probably more worth than simple words on a piece paper.

"Nah." You quip and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him. The tip of your nose touches his. "I think I'm more than fine like this."