#A little drabble today which is just sweetness and fluff!

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Pumpkin Eve

Hello! I am back again! @spotaus

Gonna be real. I wasn't sure where to write the next drabble before i remembered i wanted to do this one. (look i was in the mood for fluff and nice times and not for angst so here we are!)

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Lets go! Also i know it is obvious i take inspiration from stardew festivals over our world festivals and events sshhhh

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Cross stops the truck and Killer grins at the babybones in his arms "Ready tiny bat?"

Nightmare shoots him a glare and Killer can't help but snort as there are now two tiny grumpy faces staring at him. One from Nightmare and one from Nightmare's hoody.

Dust huffs and pokes him in his neck and Killer shoots him a look. Really hoping the slight shiver wasn't obvious. Dust just looks ar him bored in his own cheap vampire costume "Don't annoy Nightmare." and he leaves their beat up truck.

Cross makes a curious noise as he quickly turns off the engine "Dust! Don't get out of the car when the engine is still running!"

Moments later Killer's door opens and Dusty easily picks Nightmare up. Dust shoots Cross a look as he tilts his skull "You were already parked." and he walks towards the side as Horror joins him.

Killer quickly undoes his seat belt and joins the two as Cross grumbles and locks their truck.

Their little group walks towards the main road of town and quickly see pumpkins and decorations everywhere. magical candles floating and all kinds of other spooky decorations.

Nightmare looks around to glance at everything at once.

Killer grins and leans close "Having fun tiny boss?"

Ngihtmare blinks and shoots him a look before answering "Never been to... something like this..." and he goes back to looking around.

Right. BEcause while the hide out had been save it wasn't exactly the hot spot for parties and events. And Nightmare had never been invited to any event of festival before. Well! Time to make this one rock!

Killer grins and pokes the chubby little cheek "Well! Ready to have afun time!?" Even if Killer has no idea what there is to do here. He is used to just trick or treating on halloween and those memories are spotty and from a very long time ago. One that he hardly remembers or honestly doesn't even care about.

Why would he care about half forgotten memories? When he has everythign he ever wanted and could want right here with him?

Killer however is happy it doesn't seem to be a traditional Halloween. Mostly for Dusty and H. Horror must have very bitter sweet memories about all the old parties and holidays from his own universe. How stuff just wasn't celebrated anymore as the food shortage got extreme. And well, Dust is still wrecked with guilt when something reminds him. It is good that this is a different type of party! They will just have to give Nightmare other childhood traditions to enjoy here!

A glance to the side and Cross is looking around in awe as well. Crossy had grown up in pretty much a military AU or base or whatever. It is no big surprise he hardly had fun festivals to enjoy. And even if those were there he probably only guarded and worked at those.

Killer grins as he glances around. Looking for a good spot to start. He sees a lot of games and little stalls to get sweet and nice treats.

They start with a few games. Some apple bopping is one of them, though instead of apples these people use oranges. Some spooky duck fishing game. They all got a kick out of the weird bowling game with a ball with a skull on it called Skull bowling.

After that came the treats. all spooky themed and with a lot of pumpkin flavours. Killer doesn't care too much for the flavour itself but Nightmare seems to really enjoy the more autumn flavours. Which together with his love for sweets makes these snacks perfect!

Killer does see the candy apples in the distance and makes sure they don't go near there. It is about having fun and enjoying their time together.

Killer grins as he leads them to the corn maze, they go in together and easily make it out again. Horror having lead them out of course, wiht Nightmare on his shoulders looking around.

They exit the maze just in time to see Ellie and Dani walk by. the two monsters see them and grin back "Hey guys! Having fun?" Ellie grins widely.

Killer studies the two. Dani and Ellie seem to have gone for some egypt kinda thing. Killer tilts his skull "Egypt?"

Dani sighs but nods as Ellie grins proudly "Yes! Dani is as Anubis! And I am as cleopatra" she grins more "Or better said. CleHOPatra." and she shoots them finger guns.

Killer snorts and hears both Dust and Horror chuckle as well. Cross lets out a loud sigh as Nightmare pouts unamused.

Ellie giggles as Dani looks around "How are you guys liking your first festival?"

Cross smiles brightly "It is amazing!" Nightmare nods his agreement and Killer feels like his soul is being squeezed. Nightmare looks happy and content as he is held by nay of them. Cross is actually enjoying himself instead of trying to force himself to be serious all the time. Dusty is relaxed as he is near and Horror is content and feels at ease.

This is exactly how it should be!

Killer knows he should care more about all they left behind but honestly? He is a pretty selfish person. Everything in the multiverse can crash and burn for all he cares. As long as those who are his are happy he is happy.

He will eventually talk about that... squeezing feeling in his soul whenever he sees them laugh and grin. or when they touch or hug him. Eventually. When he feels a bit braver. For now he just lets himself enjoy this.

The two girls wave their own goodbyes as they rush off to enjoy their date night.

Horror looks around curiously "Where to now?"

Nightmare, who has been tranfered over to Cross, points at a building "Maybe that?"

Killer looks over but knows all of them are already going in the direction of whatever it is. As they get closer they realise it is a haunted house and they share grins.

None of them are easy to scare after all that happened and they went through. They make their way over and talk with the human and monster manning the building.

THe human frowns as they see Ngihtmare "are you four sure you want to take the tiny kiddo in? I mean. It is scary."

Nightmare huffs and pushes close to Cross. Cross just hugs him close. Killer grins "Yeah it is fine! He loves scary stuff!" maybe a bit of an exaggeration but it will work.

the people manning the stall share a look but eventually agree to let them in. On the condition that they don't let go of him.

Which, ppppfffff. As if any of them would willingly let go of Nightmare! Killer is very aware all of them are very clingy when it comes to their babybones. It is alreayd a miracle they are all willing to share tiny boss wiht each other.

They go in and the haunted house has theme rooms. All centered around certain fears or scare situation.

THe first is about canibals which Horror just huffs at with a roll of his eye. They grin with him and Horror snorts a laugh as he mutters "They are using the wrong temperature for human meat." and they laugh as they move to the next room.

Something about a stalker and some lady sitting in the living room. spooky phone calls and shadows in the fake windows. sound track of footsteps. Nice enough alright.

Dust huffs "Way to stalk badly. Announcing your presence."

Killer laughs and hangs over his shoulders, his soul and magic purring at having one of the three this close and not being pushed away as he rubs his skull againt Dust's "Not everyone can be as skilled at stalking prey Dusty~"

Dust lets out a loud sigh but only gives him a small nudge to get Killer to let go. So no actual annoyance.

There is another room about medical experimentation which Nightmare just looks displeased as he mutters about the tools being dirty. Killer nods "I know! It is going to mess with the results." which causes Dsuty to snort as he walks past.

there is another room about spiders and that is just great! they laugh and relax as they walk through and go exit the house, and enter the next area.

Killer walks into the garden only to stop and start laughing. Cross frowns at him before looking and gasping, and then quickly covers Nightmare's sockets. Nightmare pouts "Hey!"

Killer snorts and leans heavily against Horror as Horror just pats his shoulders and back. Dust hums and mutters "naked skeletons. nice."

Becuase plastic skeletons are used for decoration. Which Killer knows is a halloween thing but it ALWAYS cracks him up.

Cross huffs and mutters "it is indecent. Come Nightmare. Lets quickly go."

Nightmare mutters about it being fake and silly but he doesn't protest as he is carried out of the naked skeleton area down the path to get back at the front of the house and the start. Killer does manage to glance around and realise it is set up as a graveyard of some kind with a witch hut and everything. but there are just so many naked skeletons that he starts laughing again.

They get to the start of the house again and Cross mutters about indecent while Nightmare eats one of the many snacks they bought him. Killer knows he is still grinning and giggles every once in a while while Dust and Horror just share amused looks.

They say their goodbyes but Killer makes sure to give the two manning the house a cheeky wink as he blows them a kiss "interesting yard. Didn't realise that were your types." the two share confused looks before looking around the side. Then they both look up shocked and stutter out protests.

Killer laughs as he walks with his friends. Cross shoots him a look "Don't do that!"

Killer grins and winks at Cross "It is harmless Crossy. You know I only mean it with any of you guys~" and he winks again.

Cross has this tiny adorable blush as he mutters about Killer having to be serious before rushing to catch up with Horror.

Killer sighs but smiles. It is fine. Eventually they will realise he is being serious. for now? They are happy and Nightmare hasn't stopped purring for almost two hours now. That is what matters.

*-----------------------*

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Also also! @mikimakiboo made a very cute drabble for my series! You guys should check it out! It is very cute <3 You guys are all so talented <3

[cathnospam]

Adding onto this drabble of how Bakugo likes to stare at you, but with a bit a smutty..

CW: Bakugo is a pervert trynna fight it, Some fluff, Smut implied at end, Reader IS a pervert, Black Reader slightly Implied???

Bakugo has a bad staring problem.

He had a feeling you knew he knew that he would do more than just glance at you which is why you decided to sit next to him up until you all graduated high school and attended college.

Since UA made a new section of the school that is for the college students only the classrooms are different, no more desk but rows of seats, and means sitting even closer. Bakugo didn’t know if he should be pissed off or more excited.

Yes he sits closer, but now his staring would be evident. Turning almost a whole 180 just to get a good look of your side profile. And the thought of you catching him or anything saying about it makes him want to smack the shit out of Deku or Kami.

“Wanna study?”

Your voice was something else. So feminine and soft he practically tries to savor each sweet vowel ….as corny as it sounds….though he has overheard you speak negatively about it a few times. If he had a right mind he’d let you know how much serotonin your voice carries.

“Your grades that bad?”

“No, I aced the last exam with a 98%.”

Bakugo only got 95.

He tsks adjusting himself uncomfortably to get a better look at you. Of course you’re also smart to pair.

The study dates turned into a common practice, but instead of studying it’s be a movie marathon or going to eat some food together at a nearby restaurant.

And his eyes never cracked away from you.

Bakugo would watch you as you spoke, laughed, ate, even stared when you were just doing absolutely nothing, but tapping away on your phone.

He just does not know why he can’t stop, but he doesn’t care and you seem to not care much either.

By the third year before graduation you began to take note of him always looking at you. At some point you wanted to confirm your suspicions so you’d angle yourself a little more his direction to see him from your peripheral vision, and alas you were right. He always looks at you.

He starts from your legs, stops and admires your thighs, to your chest and lands his gaze on your face. You’ve became accustomed to it so much whenever you wear your braids, or locs, or whichever new hairstyle that week parted it’s be on the opposite side so he can still see your face.

It wasn’t weird though, his eyebrows were furrowed, but he looked so cute and relaxed. Plus, it didn’t hurt since..he was your little crush.

It has been 4 months now and Bakugo practically lives in your dorm. His spare clothes are in your drawers, his winter hero costume is beside yours in your closet, he even has some of his hygiene products in your bathroom when he spends the night.

It’s been a routine now; class together, after school lunch together, spar separately or hang out with friends separately but Bakugo comes to your room to take a shower and bring you both dinner.

This time though Bakugo came back from his work study a little later, which you didn’t mind, but you decided to order some dinner, your favorite and his and head to take a quick shower.

Bakugo actually had to catch himself from grinning at your text. He felt more motivated to finish his job quicker today and head back to you.

He missed you without realizing it.

After eating, you finally got up from mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and grabbing the takeout from the front , to take your shower. The hot water feels so nice on your body you forgot all your worries of today and Bakugo was just coming back to the dorms.

He unlocks your door with the spare key you gave him and hears the water running, he sees your phone unlocked in your bed with some video replaying on tiktok and he scoffs. Of course you’re just NOW getting in the shower. He wanted to take one.

Bakugo places his gauntlet and strips his uniform down to just his tank top and boxers on your semi filled hamper and wait. He did not feel like heading to the other side of the building to take a shower and head back. Too tired.

While eating the food you got him he finds the receipt you tossed and crumbled in the trash, and scoffs, “why does she do this..” he mumbled as he pulls out his phone to Apple Pay you back the difference, he doesn’t usually let your pay for anything when you’re with him even if you offer so it was practically second nature to him.

Laying back on your bed with a towel he starts up a show as he waits for you, and while looking at the TV he notices your bathroom door beside it opened.

Without thought he tilts his head almost like a confused dog to get a better view of the noises you’re making inside. Mindless humming, singing, and soft moans whenever you let the hot water touch the sensitive areas of your skin.

You sounded…so attractive.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he was back yet, he made enough noises and comments to himself loud enough, but you didn’t respond back. You didn’t even hear the TV playing. Were you really that careless?

Thank God your door was locked.

He kept quiet for a moment, muting the TV and ate in silence to hear the ambiance of your shower. Bakugo wasn’t really thinking at this point.

“K-Kats ~”

If Bakugo had dog ears one would be up right about now, he gets up and walks over to the doors. No way he heard you moan—-

“Katsuki~”

His name.

He had heard HIS name moan out of YOUR mouth.

It spilled out of your lips like honey, the soft heavy breaths, if he focused his hearing he could have heard your squelches your sex was spewing out from you little fingers.

Bakugo knew. He knew better. He always had pride he wasn’t a pervert like his friends.

Kaminari admitting he steals Jirou’s panties

Kiri sometimes watches Mina get dressed when he’s in her room

Even Sero sending pervy pictures to his long distance girlfriend at random hours of the day

Bakugo was BETTER than them, because he never did anything perverted with you.

But

He’s still a man at the end of the day.

“Katsuki…ah…”He slowly rises from the bed.

And he still has needs.

“Kats….”He peaks his head at the creaked bathroom door.

And he still had a staring problem.

[angrythingstarlight]

What was the first reaction Malyshka had when Bucky started giving Bee cash? Was she like “wtf she’s so little” or “wtf give me cash too”

You thought it was cute. Even though you'll never admit that to Bucky. He doesn't need the encouragement, he's bad enough already.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumblebee

CW: Fluff

WC: Drabble

AN: Unbetad and written on my phone.

Bucky loves giving you 'spending money'. This morning you caught him slipping an obnoxiously thick wad of cash in your purse. He's ignoring your protests that it was way too much for you to spend in one day, a sly grin on his face as he tells you that you'll have to try harder and he believes you can.

Bucky is about to give you even more cash, counting out more from the stack in his hand when Bee wiggles a chunky little arm free from her baby wrap and holds her hand out, fingers opening and closing.

"Papa," she says, flashing a gummy grin up at him. For someone who only knows a few words, she's really good at communicating what she wants. "Hi Papa."

"Yes Bumblebee? You want to take your mama to lunch today?" A smile instantly pulls at his lips when she squeals in response. "Of course you do my sweet Bee. Here's a little extra so you can take her to the toy store after you're done."

Bucky has been talking to her like this since she was born and you love it, hearing the way his voice softens and watching him be so gentle and sweet with her makes your heart flutter.

He peels off a few hundreds and places them in her palm. Her fist closes tightly around the bills, crumpling them as she brings her hand to her face. Her intense focus on the money makes you laugh, her little ponytails shaking under your chin.

You don't bother to take it from her, you know by now that her tiny hands are stronger than they look. It's a struggle to get something away from her once she gets a hold of it. That cash is hers. For now.

"Bucky," His gaze lifts at the warning in your tone. "Don't make this a habit. She doesn't need money. She just learned to walk. Let's wait until she's a little older before you start giving her cash. How about when she's able to count?"

Bucky knows he can't wait that long. You know he can't wait that long. His baby girl needs to be spoiled now. Besides—

"Did I tell you how cute you are today? I didn't? Shame on me. You are as pretty as your mama. Look at her, she's gorgeous isn't she?"

"Bucky," your warning loses its edge when his eyes lock on yours, the sheer emotion in the blue irises makes you shiver even as you lift a suspicious brow.

His smile widens. Her other arm is tugged free and he places more money in her hand. "You girls deserve a spa day, it'll be your treat Bumblebee."

"What? No we—"

Bucky presses his lips to yours, stopping your argument with a languid, warm kiss. His lips sweeping over yours so possessive and passionate as he deepens the kiss that your knees go weak. It's truly unfair how good he is at this.

Then when he knows your resistance is melting away faster than cotton candy in the rain, he breaks the kiss and backs away. "I'll call you after the Stark meeting Malyshka. Love you both."

He waves at his babbling baby before opening the front door. She's too preoccupied with slamming her money together to notice his departure which is a good thing considering there's always a chance she'll cry if she sees him leaving.

"Love you too," you sigh, watching him get into his car. You drop a kiss on her head. "Your papa is impossible."

"Papa," she agrees, kicking her chubby legs out.

"Exactly. I don't know what we're going to do with him either Bee." You glance at the money in your purse for a second. It would be wrong to let it go to waste. He's not going to take it back. A spa day with your baby does sound like fun.

"You know he's right. Let's have a girls' day. We should call Grace and see if she wants to join us." You look down at your baby with a thoughtful expression. "Don't tell him I said he was right because he'll bring it up the next time he tries to give us money we don't need."

An hour later, you're on way to your first spa day with Bee. It's the first of many because Bucky did make it a habit.

He's only happy if his girls are happy and as your man and her father, he's going to ensure that you both have every last thing you need to have a soft, sweet life.

And if you both end up a little spoiled, he'll proudly take the blame for that.

[zorosangell]

PLSSSS CAN YOU DO A DRABBLE ABT READER LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON KATAKURIS NECK AND FACE AND HE DOESNT KNOW he just shows up to work or wtevr w kiss marks all over him and everyone is too scared to tell him, then somone finally tells him and he comes home and reader is just laughing at him LADKFALSDOTFIAHTOAHSDKLGJADG

⛥ﾟ・。 lipstick

SECRET BONUS/prequel to pocus -- you manage to corner katakuri right before he has to go, stealing some kisses before sending him on his way. little does he know you've taken the time to mark up your territory. sadly, he learns the hard way.

cw: fluff, comfort, gets a bit spicy, dad katakuri, katakuri is katakuri, their dynamic is so adorable, he is twenty-six, you are twenty-five, soda is two, you and him are so in love<3

a/n: sorry i did a bit of my own spin on it <3 i can totally write another version tho i liked ur idea anon

"Love," Katakuri started as he entered your shared room, hair dampened and towel hanging loosely around his hips as he padded toward his closet. "Do you know what happened to my boots? They're not where I left them."

With a hum, you glanced up from your book—which you were reading while cuddled in the pillows—scrunching your nose in an attempt to push up your reading glasses.

"Huh? What did you—"

The moment you caught sight of him, all will to finish your sentence went completely out the window, along with the recipe book you were so enraptured in.

'GOD-DAMN.'

The girlish flutter in your chest made you practically swoon, an almost dreamy sigh managing to slip past your lips.

The sheer beauty of your husband never failed to amaze you.

Sure, it was common knowledge to nearly everyone in Totto Land that the Sweet General was an honest-to-goodness knockout.

The women of the sugary archipelago often came to the agreement that he was among the handsomest of the Charlottes, and even those who had seen his mouth could admit that he was still quite the looker—you'd spoken ad nauseam about how much you believed it amplified his attractiveness, despite his fervent denial.

But for you to see him here?

In your house... in your room... as your husband... looking as delectable as he did right how?

Dampened, mussed hair, which caused a few water droplets to drip and slide down the broad, muscular ridges of his back.

Abdominals carved out of solid marble, accentuated by his dewy, freshly-showered skin and swirled tattoo.

Slightly miffed expression, which forced his lips to curl in a half snarl as he rummaged through his perfectly neat closet.

Perfectly tapered v-line, which was followed by a certain trail of soft, dark, pink hair, the surprise a few inches below just barely hidden away by a tantalizingly thin towel.

And he expected you to go about business as usual.

Please.

You'd seen him naked more times than you could count, but somehow, he had a way of making every time feel like the first time.

"My boots," he repeated, completely oblivious to your ogling as he continued his search. "You think Soda took them again?"

His words went in one ear and out the other, your body already forcing you off the bed as you carefully removed your glasses, resting them on your nightstand.

It was as if you were entranced, unable to look away as his muscles flexed with each minute movement.

"Kuri~" you purred, sing-songily, as you slowly began to stalk toward him.

At your tone, he froze, eyes going wide as he kept his back to you, making sure his face was still hidden in the closet.

'Shit.'

Instantly, he began running through any and every possible scenario, frantically searching for something he must've forgotten to warrant such a tone—in his hunt for his shoes, he had failed to notice that you had come off as teasing rather than scolding.

Birthday?

'(XX/XX). Not today.'

Anniversary?

'Just passed.'

Doughnut stash?

'Closet compartment's still intact.'

Internally, he cursed, sadly unable to pinpoint what he'd done wrong.

'Dammit.'

"My love... have I ever told you how handsome you look?" you smiled, sweetly, as you wrapped your arms around his sinfully narrow waist, resting your head against his spine.

At your anti-climactic statement, he let out a relieved sigh, ignoring the stinging tinge of blush that rose to his cheeks as he stood up straight, turning to you.

"Too many times," he half-heartedly joked, taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips, muffling the hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

But you noticed nonetheless, a faint pout rising to your lips at the sound.

"Is Soda asleep? I need my boots."

Flippantly, you shrugged, slowly sliding your hands up his chest as you slowly pressed yourself against him, already beginning to nestle into your special spot at the column of his throat.

Stomach aflutter, he attempted to resist—barely—strong hands grabbing onto your hips in hopes of prying you off.

"(y/n)... I have to leave in ten minutes..."

"You will," you purred, nibbling on his lobe as your fingers threaded through the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer. "Just give me a minute to feel my husband."

Fuck.

You knew exactly what button to press.

Smoothly, your free hand traveled from his waist to his abs, tracing each toned divot with a feather-light touch, before slowly moving down toward his towel.

"I need to..." he trailed off as you undid the towel, leaving him exposed to you.

"Need to what?" you asked, looking up at him with big, doe eyes. "Leave me alone... leave me cold?"

Against every logical thought screaming at him not to look at you, he did so anyway, breath hitching sharply at the sheer dilation of your pupils, which were blown completely wide with lust.

It was intoxicating... and it was all because of a little shower.

Every fiber of his being wanted to give in, to stay home instead and spend the night giving you all the attention you were begging for.

But his brothers were expecting him in thirty minutes, and it already took twenty to get there—

Without warning, you leaned in, hand sliding back down to his chest as your lips ghosted over his, just barely kissing the length of his teeth.

"I need you now, Kuri... please," you pleaded, the words coming out with a slight whine.

That, paired with your large, beautiful eyes staring right into his soul, and he was done for.

Who was he to say no to you?

"Dammit..." he huffed, his thick arm quickly wrapping around your waist, effortlessly hoisting you off the ground and scooping you up bridal style. "Five minutes."

Elated, you let out a gasp, happily wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Promise!" you nodded, honestly.

But, before you could say anything else, you were tossed back onto the bed, the force causing you to bounce right into his chest as he climbed on top of you.

"EEK! Kuri!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as your hands braced themselves on his shoulders, his arms already back around you as he pulled you in for an impossibly firm kiss.

"So spoiled..." he muttered against your lips, hungrily. "Gonna be the death of me, woman."

Disbelieving, he let out an amused sigh, not at all surprised by how easily you'd gotten your way.

Charlotte Katakuri was whipped, so much so that he wasn't even sure the word no was in his vocabulary when things came to his sweet, little wife.

His sly, little wife, who had him wrapped around her manicured finger.

Though, if he was being truly honest, he wouldn't have it any other way.

BONUS !!

"Katakuri," Oven greeted with a smirk, eyes rolling over his older brother as he steadily approached. "Fashionably late, I see... that's quite unlike you."

"I got held up by some business," your husband answered in a cool monotone, expression neutral, as it always was when he was out of the house.

At that, Daifuku snickered, though he was quick to cover it up.

"We can see that..." he chuckled, eyes flicking around his brother's face. "Riveting endeavors, I'm sure."

Confused, Katakuri raised a brow, coming to a halt as he finally reached them.

Why the hell were they acting so weird?

"I take it you and (y/n) are still going strong," Oven continued, thoroughly amused as he nodded to the general's face. "Y'know... given the schmutz you've got on your—"

"Everywhere," Daifuku finished, both his and Oven's snickers now impossible to ignore.

Now even more lost than before, Katakuri glanced down at himself, a dark shade of crimson burning its way onto his face as his eyes blew wide, completely mortified.

In his rush out the house, he had failed to realize that the entirety of his chest and stomach was littered with lipstick, smudged and practically everywhere from your impromptu makeout session.

Even his face—which he'd have noticed right away if he'd taken a moment to look in a mirror—was completely marked, some even having found its way onto his lips during your game of tonsil hockey.

And his wild hair only further sold the look, the poor man looking as if he'd just stumbled out of a red light district.

"Not.a word of this... to anybody," Katakuri growled with murderous intent, gaze locked in on his two younger brothers, who were practically in the floor with laughter.

"I gotta say, the look works!" Oven bellowed, heartily, wiping a tear from his cheek.

"Yes, (y/n)'s got nice taste. The shade compliments his skin quite nicely," Daifuku nodded in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest. "Bring out the terrifying glint in his eyes."

With a tired sigh, Katakuri turned his arm to mochi, using it to wipe off the stains as he stared into the distance, ignoring their persistent barbs.

Sure, he wouldn't live this down for a long while, but if he was being honest...

It was completely and totally worth it.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Period Drabble; LADS

Word count; 1,267

Warnings; mention of periods, slight stereotypes like mood swings and etc, fluff

Notes; So, since mine just started, I thought I'd just do a little drabble. They're not the best to be honest, but I just wanted to post something and it seems cute/fluffy enough! Periods are only vaguely mentioned in Rafayel's, but I think it still works.

One of Zayne's secret times also inspired me, they all have at least one period related secret time– which I find really sweet. Zayne's mentioned the raspberry tea and the massage, which I actually did for a bit today and it 100% helped. At least, for a little bit before I woke up enough to take some tylenol.

Anyway! I hope you enjoy, it's rather short and I didn't proof-read at all, but it'll be fine since it's a just drabble. I have a few more drabble ideas, but this one was more of a random idea so apologizes that it's not formatted well!

Xavier

“Are you alright? Sorry– shouldn't have asked that.” Xavier immediately retracts his question whenever your head whips around to look at him. 

You were curled up in a ball, sitting on the floor, and trying to slowly breathe until your pain medication kicks in. 

The first few days of your period were always rough. The pain akin to…Well, it was hard to describe. It definitely hurt though, that's for sure. 

“I'll be right back.” Xavier pats your head as he steps past you, but you wrap your arms around his leg. “Where are you going?” You couldn't tell that you were being clingy nor did you notice that your mood swings were all over the place. You honestly thought you were acting as normal as ever. 

“I'm going to the store, okay?” He chuckles, kneeling down to remove your hands from his leg. He holds both of them in-between his and dips his head down to place a small kiss on your knuckles. “I'll be back in a flash. You'll never even realize I left.” 

Disappointment bubbles in your chest and you let out a sigh, but nod your head. “Okay…” you didn't exactly want to be alone, but if Xavier needed to leave for a moment, you didn't want to bother him and make him stay. 

And indeed, Xavier was back very soon. In record time. 

He re-enters the apartment, seemingly out of breath, but the moment you look at him, he stands up straight. He has a plastic bag in his hands as he walks over to you. 

He kneels back down next to you and starts sifting through the bag. “I got some chocolate…I didn't know what kind you liked so I got regular, white, dark, and mint.” As he sets them down on the coffee table, you quickly grab your favourite to open it up. 

You start eating as Xavier continues with a chuckle, “I got a heating pad, some chamomile tea, some raspberries…” 

“You didn't have to get all of this…” You say, but you can't hide the smile on your lips. While he really didn't need to do all of this, you did appreciate it. A lot. 

“Oh, I also looked up some massages that can relieve cramps. I could do those for you later, if you want?” 

Rafayel 

“Hey– stop throwing brushes at me!” Rafayel huffs with a hand on his hip. “I'm sorry I got some paint on you.” 

You pause mid-throw and raise a brow, “I told you I wasn't in the mood to play around.” A thick purple line of dried paint decorates your cheek. 

“And I just apologized for that!” Rafayel throws his hands up in the air before he walks over to grab a washcloth. He wets it and heads back over to you. “Truce?” 

“I–” you sigh before shaking your head. “Fine. I guess I'm sorry too.” 

The purple-haired man chuckles as he tilts your chin up with a finger. “Look, if I knew you were on your period, I wouldn't have done that. Seriously, do I look like I want to die today?” He gently wipes your cheek with the wet cloth. 

“I'll help you clean up your brushes.” You reluctantly say, a little embarrassed at your overreaction, but you did tell him you didn't want to play around today. 

“I have a better idea.” Rafayel tosses the washcloth onto the table once he's done and picks up a lone paint brush from the floor. “Here. Paint on me.” 

“Huh?” 

“You can paint on me to your heart's content and until you feel better.” He curls your fingers around the brush and then gives you a small smile. “After that, we can make something to eat. I picked up a few boxes of cake mix, so we can bake one together.” 

Sylus 

“Sylus–” 

“It's fine, sweetie. I just threw the bedsheets in the wash, along with your clothes.” The taller man says as he walks back into the room. 

You sat, curled up against the headboard of the naked bed, with your head buried into your knees. 

“I don't see why you're embarrassed over it. A period is a normal thing.” Sylus shrugs as he sits down on the bed, patting the mattress so you'd move to sit next to him. “I sent the twins out to go procure some pads, tampons, and whatever else you might need. It's a shame the N109 Zone doesn't sell any of it…I might have to fix that.” He hums. 

You sigh and slowly move to sit next to Sylus, doing your best not to move too much. “It's a normal thing, yes, but it's embarrassing to wake up and have…blood all over the bed.” 

“You should be glad it's only your period. I would've thought you were dying otherwise.” The white-haired man laughs before handing you a bottle of pills. “It's the only pain medication we have around here. If you can't take it, I'll have Mephisto go out and get some more.” 

“Stop talking about it.” You hide your face in your hands. 

“Alright, I'm sorry, kitten. Just take your medicine before the pain kicks in. I'll go make you some tea.” He pats your hand but, as he goes to stand up, you feel your body jerk forward. 

“Sylus–” you bite back your anger, momentarily thinking that he was dragging you by the wrist, but when you look down you realize your wrists were connected with that annoying red light. “Seriously?” Why now of all times?

��It seems like you really didn't want me to leave you alone.” Sylus muses with a raised brow before he carefully picks you up. “I'll have to make your tea like this then.” 

“Hey–” 

“Would you rather I drag you around? I really don't want to piss you off. I think I'd actually fear for my life if I did.” 

Zayne 

“Don't get up.” You hear Zayne whisper and the bed shifts as the older man moves to get up. “I'll go make you some raspberry tea for your cramps.”

“Zayne…” Your hand pats against the bed, searching for him and you hear him sigh, his hand resting on top of yours. 

“I'll be right back, snow angel.”

“Let me help you sit up.” Zayne places the mug of hot tea on the bedside table, his hand moving to rest against your back as he aids you in sitting up. “Is the pain too bad? I'd hate for you to rely on medication, but if it's hurting too much, I can get some for you.” 

“It's not…too bad right now.” But your facial expression betrays you as a sharp pain floods through your lower abdomen. 

“Here.” Zayne lifts a spoon from the tea, blowing on it to cool it off, and lifts the spoon to your lips. “These raspberries should help with your cramps.” 

After you drink some more of the tea, Zayne gets back in bed next to you. His chest against your back and his hands rest slightly under your stomach. 

“Sleep for a little while longer…I'll keep massaging here, so you won't be in pain while you sleep.” The black haired man places a soft kiss on your head. 

His fingers gently push down on your lower abdomen, moving in a slow, circular motion. 

It felt…soothing. It was also surprisingly taking the pain away, but that could also be from the tea. 

“Do you have work today?” You tiredly ask, a yawn escaping from your lips and you feel Zayne shake his head. 

“I'm taking off. A certain patient requires all of my attention, at least for today."

[nickfowlerrr]

bite your tongue

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 856

warnings: just a bit of birthday fluff. 🥳

notes: nothing to see here, just a little happy birthday bucky drabble. i’ve never written anything for his birthday so this is long overdue. not much but i think it’s sweet 🩵 thank you in advance for reading, hope you enjoy it!

It’s almost midnight. You somehow managed to keep your mouth shut all day. It’s what he wanted, you remind yourself. You have to remind yourself, because as you watch the clock inching closer and closer to March 11th, the urge to whisper even just a quiet little “happy birthday” eats at you more and more. It just doesn’t feel right to not say it!

His day hasn’t gone uncelebrated, though. You made him breakfast in bed, got his favorite lunch from the diner down the block, became his secretary for the day - taking and diverting all his calls and texts and emails, separating the business from personal while assuring all of his friends you’d pass their birthday wishes along to him. Which you would, just not today.

You finished dinner a few hours ago and have been cuddling with Bucky on the bed of your shared apartment since, watching movies he’s been meaning to get to while he mindlessly rubs up and down your bare back.

You bite your tongue to stop the words from coming out as 11:57 turns to 11:58. God, this is way harder than you thought it’d be. You huff and turn into him as he chuckles at you, holding you closer while you bury your face in his neck.

You hear the minute hand tick again and you pout against his skin, you know he feels it.

Bucky smirks as he looks down at you lying on him, not that you can see it. You lasted so much longer than he thought you would and his heart swells at how determined you’ve been to respect his wishes, despite how much it’s obviously been killing you not to say it. He thought for sure you’d have given in when you presented him the birthday cake you’d made for him.

He had raised a brow at the singular candle poking out of it.

“What? It’s not lit, it’s just…decoration?” you tried as he laughed at you before pulling it out as you humphed. You didn’t push it further though and he wrapped you in his arms, holding you tight before pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You cut him a slice and the smile that graced your lips at the moan that slipped past his made his whole day, all on it’s on. God, he was a lucky man.

He thought about it then as he pulled you to sit and straddle his lap at the table, letting you get out a single happy birthday, but he decided against it. He wanted to see if you could really go the whole day.

And now, with your face pressed into his neck in your attempt to keep your mouth shut for the next minute, a warmth spread through his chest at the feeling of your body pressing against his and the knowledge that you really would spend the next forty seconds in agony trying to hold your tongue just for his dumb birthday request.

He turned so his lips were brushing against your ear, not able to hide his smile at the goosebumps that raised on your soft skin at his voice in your ear.

“You’ve done so good for me, baby. Thank you for listening to me.”

You just nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Not just because you might slip, but because you were sure your voice would be shaky thanks to the timbre and tone of his voice as spoke lowly in your ear. He knows what he does to you, especially when he talks to you like that.

“Now,” he says, urging you to sit up so he can look at you, “go ahead, doll.”

Your brows raise in surprise, the obvious question clear on your face. “Go ahead?”

He nods with a soft, crooked smile playing on his lips as his hands settle on your hips. “You’ve got about fifteen seconds left before it’s too late.”

A relieved grin lights up your face and his heart skips a beat despite himself at the happiness on your gorgeous face, a smile that’s all for him.

You don’t say it just yet though, no, you instead crash your lips against his own. You kiss him firmly, your lips slotting against his as you soften while he kisses you back. You lose yourself to his gentle touches as the kiss deepens naturally before you pull away from him with just enough time.

You hold his face in your hands, your fingers grazing the beginnings of a beard, your thumbs on his soft cheeks as you look into his darkened blue eyes that somehow still seems to glimmer. God, you love him.

“Happy birthday, Bucky,” you whisper with a soft smile he can’t help but return.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says sincerely, pulling you back down to him for another kiss. “For everything.”

“I hope you had a good birthday.”

The minute hand ticks and it’s officially midnight, March 11th.

“It was the best one yet,” he assures you as you return to cuddling into him. Really, what more could he have possibly asked for?

[pearlescentparade]

IM REQUESTING AZURE X TWO TIME X READER FLUFF where azure and two time learn to love eachother again through their relationship with reader. I suggested this to another author but im also greedy and impatient and i think you would do this MASTERFULLY honestly

also of course some attention to reader as well....polycule ever

(Yes I sent this at exactly 9:30pm. 🩷)

- 🎉

sometimes it takes the third who you and your ex both love to help you get back together

you and me and them🪻azure x 🔄 two time x reader fluff drabble 💝

"make sure we aren't forgetting anything before we leave!" you pull the back of your boot up to slot your heel inside, hand propped on the wall next to your front door for support.

you had managed to convince both of your partners to go out on a little date today! despite the initial hesitance from them both, they agreed if only to make you happy.

even if they flinch when they accidentally brush against the other while you're all cuddling, even if the room never fails to fall into a deafening silence the moment you leave them alone together, you didn't deserve to be burdened with the aftermath of their failure. and that's a sentiment they shared.

"bundle up, nightshade. it's cold." azure drapes another jacket over your shoulders. it's thick, fuzzy, and quite honestly a bit overkill. but azure refuses to give you anything less, lest he wants you to get sick.

meticulously, they begin to button up the coat for you. as they slide each button through its designated slits on the other half, the jacket feels progressively tighter, hugging your previous layers closer to your body.

nice, snug, and warm.

"i can do it myself, you know.." weakly, you peep out a protest from underneath the oversized jacket. though it's a bit late to do so, considering azure's already done with buttoning you up.

"your hands," azure takes up your hands in his for emphasis, "are completely frozen over. it'd be faster to do it for you."

you attempt to move your fingers, either to prove him wrong or to confirm if they're right. lo and behold, they're sluggish in their movement, as if the message transmission from your brain to your fingers was lagging.

azure gently rubs his thumb over your frigid digits and encases them fully in their own fingers. a futile attempt at warming them up, but no less thoughtful.

"if you wanted to hold my hands, you could've just said so." you look up into azure's narrow purple eyes, teasing in the lilt of your voice and the gaze in your eyes.

they squint back with a clever glint and a comeback on the tip of their tongue, "i-"

"oh lamb, don't you know the skin of the neck is incredibly sensitive?? you must take this scarf!"

a large piece of fabric suddenly covers about 75% of your vision when two time slips it over your head, sloppily wrapping it around your neck.

azure scoffs, "you didn't even put it on them correctly." they pull the scarf off, drape it around your neck again, bring both ends through the loop, then tie it into a neat knot. "you can be stupid in every other aspect, but i refuse to let you be careless about them."

two time frowns, "...sorry." their entire demeanor seems to droop, clearly disheartened.

"don't be harsh, azure.. they're only excited to help. thank you, timey!" their reward is a sweet peck on their forehead from you, which they receive with much enthusiasm, perking back up.

"we should head out now, let's go!" you slip out of the door, leaving your two partners still inside the house.

azure starts to follow, but stops in their tracks when he feels a hand on their wrist. he doesn't spare a glance back.

"what. what is it now? is it that even now you can't stop bringing me down?"

"..take these mittens, babe. it's cold."

azure looks back.

two time stares back.

a pair of black mittens are clasped in their other hand, now outstretched to azure.

"so you can be a good partner." azure's words are sharp as he slides the mitts onto his hands.

two time awkwardly chuckles, "a second chance does wonders! you can't say that trying love again with them hasn't done you any good either."

azure struggles with putting on the other mitten, the thickness of the already gloved hand making it a bit difficult.

"maybe. maybe we just needed to see new people."

two time takes the remaining mitten from azure, sliding it onto his other hand easily.

"maybe we just needed to be new people." they barely whisper, letting their hand hold azure's for a moment. the latter doesn't pull away, and they stand there in silence. not the usual tense ones, but a 'relishing the moment', comfortable sort.

"are you guys coming? that coffee shop i wanted to check out has a long line, so we should get going!" your voice rings out from outside, a sense of urgency evident in your chattering.

"ah, we've left them out in the cold for a while now." azure looks up at the sound of you.

"and you were scolding me about being careless? for shame!"

"oh, shut up."

firmly but not roughly, azure snatches two time by their wrist and leads them outside into the white winter snow, where you're waiting for them to catch up.

(parade postscript: i actually think i might throw up this evil ass polycule making me sick!!! /lh /silly

also the name is a reference to the visual novel you and me and her atgargargarg even tho the drabble is nothing like the vn 😨 i liked the sound of the name i think it fits ALSO IM BAVK ON MY PARALLELISM AND REPETITION SHIT AHAHHHGAGAGAG)

[leclerc-hs]

snowballs - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you bake cookies with charles and his daughter but still end up on your knees warnings: some cute fluff?, 18+, slight smut, oral (m-receiving), bad french (please correct me!!! i don't speak french), not proofread word count: 1,342 author's note: merry christmas eve (ya filthy animals) lmaooo. also loling at the title. leaving this here for y'all. single dad Charles has me in a complete chokehold. this is not a part 2, just a little Christmas themed drabble if you wanna call it that. if you didn’t read THIS yet, then go do it.

french edits made by @dannyramirezwife !!! (my angel)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE AIR WAS filled with the sweet scent of pine and cinnamon, instantly putting you in a festive mood as soon as you arrived today. Soft, twinkling lights adorn the walls and windows, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the space. Throughout the apartment, the sound of classic Christmas tunes plays softly in the background.

The kitchen, where all three of you stood, was pure chaos. Bowls varying sizes are strewn across the countertops, each bearing the remnants of different stages of the baking process. A mixing bowl, its sides smeared with sticky remnants of cookie dough, sits next to a flour-dusted measuring cup. Multiple trays of already baked cookies, sat cooling atop the stove. It truly was a mess.

“Papa! Vous ne pouvez pas manger ça!” You can’t eat those! She exclaimed in fits of laughter. Her face was absolutely covered in ingredients. No doubt from sneaking licks of cookie dough and frosting when she thought that nobody was looking. Flour coated her hands and arms, and some had found its way to her rosy cheeks.

“Ils sont pour le Père Noël!” They’re for Santa! You agreed with her. Swatting him with one of the Christmas themed hand towels that was nearby, before returning to decorating the cookies that lay in front of you.

Charles emitted a resounding gasp, skillfully weaving of feigned anguish. His reaction unfolded with a theatrical flair; a symphony of emotion portrayed through a dramatic hand gesture that traversed the journey of his fist to his chest. It mimicked the palpable sensation of being struck, an artful display of simulated injury. “Un autre homme reçoit tout cela?” Another man gets all of these?

With an indulgent smile, you playfully orchestrate a slow, deliberate roll of your eyes in response to his theatrics. Unfazed by the charming display, you redirect your attention solely to the task at hand – meticulously adorning the remaining cookies with festive embellishments. The ambiance in the room becomes a delightful blend of shared amusement as you all work hard finishing them all.

Charles soon excused himself to his bedroom to gather a call regarding some car testing that happened earlier this week. 

As you were on the verge of releasing a hearty sigh, ready to vocalize your exhaustion, your attention diverted to the drowsy four-year-old near you. Her delicate features were gently pressed against the countertop, closed in the embrace of slumber. A wave of endearment washed over you. Suppressing a giggle, you marveled at the sheer adorableness of the scene, momentarily setting aside your fatigue to savor the precious sight before you.

Tenderly, you gathered her into your arms, cradling her like a precious bundle. With each careful step echoed through the familiar path leading to her room, where the soft glow of ambient light revealed the traces of a day well spent.

Arriving at her bed, you marveled at the cherubic expression on her face. Softly, you attempted to wipe away the remnants of flour that adorned her tiny arms and face, a silent acknowledgment of the shared joy in the day’s baking escapade. Deciding that it was best to let her sleep than to wake her to bathe her now. The sheets could always be washed later. In that quiet moment, you sat on the floor beside her bed, just smiling at her. The room became a sanctuary, where the gentle act of care echoed the love woven into the fabric of the night.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles stood silently in the doorway, quietly observing the intimate scene before him. A swell of emotion gripped his heart as he beheld the tender scene – there you were, alongside his daughter, the warmth of familial connection radiating from your shared moments. In that unspoken exchange, a poignant desire filled his heart, longing for the sense of family that seemed to effortlessly bloom in your presence. His heart was full of want for you.

“Sugar crash?” His voice, soft and unexpected, caught you off guard, prompting an instinctive flinch. As you turned your head, you found Charles slowly approaching, his tall figure standing gracefully behind where you were seated. His captivating green eyes remained fixed on you, their beauty holding a silent intensity, never once wavering from your presence. 

“Oui,” you softly smiled. “Je devrais aller nettoyer,” I should go clean up. You stood to your feet as Charles pressed a soft kiss to his sleeping girl and brushed her hair out of her face.

Back in the kitchen, it truly looked like a tornado had hit the room. Standing amidst the culinary chaos, you contemplated where to even begin when, suddenly, a pair of hands playfully seized your waist, diverting your attention.

“Tu me rends fou,” You drive me crazy.

His lips pressed softly into the swell of your neck, his tongue pressing against your cookie batter covered skin. “Tellement doux,” So sweet.

Your stomach clenched with butterflies as he spun you around, holding you close to him. Slowly, he brings his index finger to the corner of your mouth, wiping a speck of dough off you and bringing it to your lips.

He doesn’t even need to tell you before your opening your mouth, wrapping your tongue around his finger to lick it off. You stare up at him in the process, witnessing the color of his eyes darken as you release his finger with a ‘pop’.

“Je te rends toujours folle?” Still drive you crazy?

You observed the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing with a pronounced gulp. The veins in his neck stood out prominently, evidence of his teeth being clenched.

You slowly made your way to your knees, trailing your hands down his body, feeling his taut muscles through the confines of his sweatpants. You skillfully looped your fingers into his waistband, pulling them down to free his hard length. Not too far away, was some spare cookie dough on the island of the kitchen. To which, you reached one arm up and grabbed, spreading some of it onto him, a smirk graced your lips as you heard him groan. 

“Mon dieu,” My God. He physically had to lean forward, hunching over you, in order to grip the kitchen counter top as soon as your tongue met him.

You moaned at the taste of him and the cookie dough.

He half-chuckled as his hips bucked further into your mouth, chasing after his pleasure. He inhaled sharply, trying to relax, but you were eager and adamant on getting him there. You were so so so eager to please him. 

Your hand gripped him, collecting the spit on your fingers, spreading it all over his hot skin, while you suckled gently at his sensitive tip.

“Mmm, fuck,” He couldn’t get full words out as you sunk him deeper into your mouth, his tip scraping the walls of your throat. The burning in his stomach was rising as he watched you eagerly take every inch of him. You moaned at the taste of him, the vibrations pushing him even closer to the edge.

His face was completely flushed now as you bobbed up and down, essentially choking on him. Keeping your voice down, you pulled off of him again.

“Je te veux partout sur ma langue,” Want you all over my tongue. Your whimpery tone sent him over the edge almost instantly. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he repeated. The muscles of his arms bulging as he gripped the edge of the countertop tightly. Your eyes were wet with tears, but you were satisfied as he filled your mouth. Your tongue ran over the tip once more, licking up every drop, before he took a step back from you. 

You grinned lazily at him as you stood to your feet. His chest was rising and down deeply as he tried to catch his breath.

“Complètement fou,” Fucking crazy. He murmurs, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

“Il est temps de nettoyer!” Time to clean! You clap your hands together, devious to escape his touch. 

But you both know, that he won’t let you off the hook that easily.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / fluff!! a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

> content/warnings: jimin cameo!!, a photobooth, oc gets a little hot & bothered bcs jk is a menace lol (they both are <3), touches a biiit on toxic relationships but this is pure fluff and yearning :p (the ex oc mentions is the same as the one mentioned in the first meeting drabble)

> songs: bad - wave to earth / just like magic - ariana grande

> in which masterlist!

note: just a sweet and silly drabble of jungkook being hopelessly whipped for oc before they even became official *to intensify the seven mv brainrot* no i didn’t plan this 🥲 + hehe this was only a week before the first kiss :p reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !! <3

—

“you really came!”

you run towards jungkook with a wide smile that reaches your eyes. the bag hanging on your shoulder swings and strikes your hip due to your excitement, but you could care less about the clinking of coins when there’s a bright star leaning on a lamp post, smiling back at you.

you stand before him as he straightens himself up, puffs of a fleeting cloud appearing as you pant lightly. “dummy, it’s so late. i told you to go to bed. aren’t you tired?”

“exactly, it’s so late.” he emphasizes your words to scold you, concern dripping from the tone of his soft voice. “of course i had to come.”

he tips his head to the side, sparkling eyes drinking you in as if he didn’t just see you the other night.

“you’re so adorable today.”

“thanks. is it because of this?” you happily scrunch your nose at the compliment, tugging at the strings of the brown knitted ear warmers wrapped around your head.

it is near midnight. drowning in the warmth of his bed to flee the freezing season, jungkook should be comfortably resting at home. however, he just had to look for your name in his contact list despite being absolutely knackered… and somehow he ended up here, because if he has been trading his sleep for work all these years, then he can also trade it any day to spend his midnights with you.

an endeared grin spreads on his face, rosy cheeks numb from the cold. “hm, teddy bear.”

a gust of silence passes by as your inquiring eyes survey the white plastic bag hanging from his hand, the company logo stamped in the middle of it familiar since childhood.

“what’s that? are you sick?”

“me?” he points at himself in confusion, shaking his head. “i’m not, though?”

“then why do you have-”

“ahhh- ah!” his face lights up as he is reminded of the other reason he came to you. he slaps his forehead with a chuckle. “i almost forgot.”

jungkook, although still a little shy around you, tries his best to initiate eye-contact when either one of you speaks to avoid giving off the impression that his mind is someplace else when you’re together. however, the mission becomes difficult when you meet his gaze wide-eyed, and he is… breathless.

“you haven’t been feeling well so… uhm, i got you vitamins and more medicine, just incase. here.”

your heart feels like it’s been wrapped in a cozy blanket meant to thaw the winter that has overstayed its welcome, spreading warmth and giddy sparks all the way to the tips of your fingers. you’re relieved that you wore gloves today; he didn’t get electrified when you took the thoughtful gift from his cold hand.

“really? even vitamins?”

the original plan was only to take a peek, but a word written in bold and colorful letters prompts you to bring out the cough medicine for a better look.

oh, jungkook.

you quickly slide it back inside the bag, a laugh accidentally slipping from your mouth. you press your lips into a thin line to suppress the rest of them bubbling in your chest.

“yah, why are you suddenly laughing? did i buy the wrong one?” he questions, nervous about his suspicions being correct.

he follows up with a matter-of-fact tone.

“you said you only like syrup when you have a cough, because it’s soothing.”

“it’s so sweet that you remembered that but…” you giggle, eyes watering as your body quakes with the intensity of it. the image of the packaging flashes in your mind, and you sniffle. “this is for babies.”

“but syrup is really for kids? are they not?”

his doe eyes are shining not with condescension but genuine innocence, and it makes this a whole lot funnier for you.

“yeah, i mean…” you pause as a puzzling realization washes over you.

oh my god, does this mean that this entire time… he’s been thinking that you gulp down bottles of cherry-flavored cough syrup for two-year-old’s? and he didn’t question that? at all?

“i guess you’re right. but they also have one for adults. i was drinking that.”

“huh, that’s what they gave me. and i just assumed-” he gestures at the medicine you’re grasping in your hands before he freezes.

with the clear view of it, he finally discerns how silly of a mistake he has made.

“i must be out of my mind today!”

he breaks out into a fit of laughter, putting a hand over his aching belly.

it’s a sound that has been evoking an inexplicable joy in you since the first time you heard it; a sound that you often miss lately. you still need to remind yourself not to stare at him for too long, scared that he’d be able to read these thoughts from a simple look at your face.

“still, it’s pink. and i bet that tastes better?”

you nod your head in agreement, pulling out the medicine once more to study the directions of use. “with the dropper and everything, i bet it’s a better experience.”

“shit, it- it even has a dropper?”

“i told you! it’s for babies!”

“babies?! no, no. this isn’t it. this won’t do.” he furiously shakes his head as he waves his hand in disapproval, crossing the distance between you to seize your wrist. “let’s go- come with me. let’s go back to the pharmacy. i’ll exchange it for the right one.”

“nope.” you refuse his demands with a smirk, stubbornly breaking away from his grip. “i don’t want to. i’ll keep this.”

“____, come on!”

“but you already gave it to m- jungkook!” you squeal when he makes a move to steal the item from your hands.

out of reflex, you hide them from him behind yourself. and unsurprisingly, that doesn’t deter jungkook’s endless supply of friskiness. he chases you as he reaches for your back, and you carelessly stumble multiple steps backwards to escape him. whimpering at the unexpected impact, you finally reach a dead-end, trapped between a wall and the boy who’s been making your winter a little less blue. your forehead lands on his chest, defeated, and he keeps you steady with a secure hold of your arms.

a harmony of breathy giggles imbues the silence of the deserted sidewalk.

“what are you even going to do with it? you can’t drink it anyway!”

you lift up your head with a drawn-out whine.

you can’t give him an answer.

to be honest, you’re just as clueless as jungkook is.

“ehhh?” he mimics the sound you made with an amused expression painted on his face. you’re too damn adorable for your own good, and it’s doing very dangerous things to his heart. “will you? are you a baby?”

the rhetorical question is a bait that you choose to bite.

“not really, but i can be your baby.” you shrug, melting him with a coquettish smile.

“ah, i see… is that term of endearment your type? you want to be mine?”

his teasing grin puts his dimples on display, and you desperately want to run back into your apartment just to spend a full minute screaming into your pillow. you’re thoroughly convinced that you’ve never felt more attracted to a person than you are to jungkook. this is bad news. you don’t know to what lengths you’re willing to go so that he could stay in your life for as long as you want. it’s terrifying and exhilarating.

“just to set the record straight, you want me to be yours.”

“and if i do? then what…? are you confident you can handle me?”

every nerve connected to your heart is a wire most alive when you yearn to bare it for another.

“try me.”

his hazy eyes falls to your lips and he goes a little crazier than he was the other night. it’s infuriating that you manage to make them look so soft and so inviting despite the frigid air. it’s dizzying, how his face is only inches away from yours and as always, you smell so sweet, just right. he wonders if you taste the same.

jungkook is dying to kiss you.

the thought has been plaguing his mind, haunting his dreams both day and night. he keeps screaming at himself to just fucking do it, but as much as he is impulsive, he doesn’t want to be the guy who catches you off guard. he doesn’t want you confusing your feelings for him with adrenaline. he wants the moment to feel right. he wants you to see that he’s sincere, and he’s nothing like those bastards who took you for granted…

selfishly, he wants this to be something real, co-existing with the fear of pushing you into a tornado of chaos that is his life.

his heart is pounding violently, he’s afraid it might jump through his sweater. the right moment feels like it could be right now, and he knows you feel it too. he observes your breathing getting heavier, and one of your restless hands has freed itself to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

your lips slightly part, and he doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation, or you did it on purpose to rile him up. he figures his jimin-hyung is right; he would be a fool if he allowed you to slip out of his hands. but truth be told, he’s the one wrapped around your finger.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he is doomed.

a pin drops and he is doomed.

his ringtone rattles the silence and slices through the tension between you. disappointment flashes across your face, and you visibly flinch at its loudness. you’ve grown to despise the incessant noise of telephone calls since moving to your apartment, one of your pet peeves jungkook is yet to hear about. panicked and irritated, he scrambles to dish out the vibrating device from the depth of his pocket.

“it’s… it’s my manager. but it’s fine, i’ll handle it.” he informs you quietly as he rejects the call, opting to send a text explaining his whereabouts.

a pang of guilt shoots through your heart.

“you can go home, it’s okay… i can take care of myself.”

“mhm-hm.” he shakes his head, still busy typing away. then, out of nowhere, he looks at you to properly plead. “don’t send me home yet.”

your eyes flicker to watch a piece of ice fall on his shoulder, white contrasting the black fabric of his jacket. another one lands on your hand, and then your collarbone. the stinging coldness, another thing that makes you flinch tonight. you look up to face the snowfall fiercely coming down, and it seems that the heaven opened up the sky to scold two lovesick teenagers tangled in a modern-day dalliance.

goddamn it, you curse.

“are you kidding me?” you grunt in frustration, eyebrows sharpening your previously dazed eyes.

jungkook barely manages to tap the deliver button before you begin dragging him to the roofed entrance of your apartment building.

“stay here. i’ll just grab an umbrella real quick.”

“okay.”

once he confirms that you’re out of sight, he releases a loud sigh, exasperatedly kicking a non-existent ball on the cemented floor.

“fuck! fuck! why? why do i move so slow? ah- they can’t just kill the mood like that. why-” he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge and putting a hand over his hip, so upset he can’t even speak straight. “we almost… shit, this is driving me insane… she hates me. she must hate me right now. i’m done for.”

—

the aggressive slam of the front door rings throughout your apartment, and you’re about ninety-nine percent certain you disturbed the sleep of a neighbor or two.

“then what?” you grumble to yourself, followed by a desperate cry. “then kiss me! do i really have to do everything myself?”

after grabbing the biggest umbrella you own from the basket you have beside your coat rack, you head to the kitchen where you leave behind what jungkook bought you.

eventually, your overthinking leads you to a bitter conclusion.

“does he not want something more? is he playing with me?!”

and if it was any other person, you’d be fine with that but… your gaze lands on the bottles of vitamins and cough medicine, and you sigh to regulate the accelerated beating of your heart.

“but i think i can finally do this right.”

your voice comes out above a whisper, and the verbal declaration alone fuels the hope in you.

you’re confused whether it’s a sign of luck or childishness. maybe the compensation for being well-acquainted with loss, or good karma if you decide to push it some more… but you always get what you want. despite the blood, sweat, and tears; even during the instances that you do give up, the universe somehow finds a way to arrange matters in your favor.

except you don’t want to give up on this just yet, and you don’t intend to just stand around waiting for the universe work its slow burn magic.

because you look out your bedroom window, and jungkook is squatting on the floor with his head in his hands, looking distraught as if he just lost the lottery and he was only a digit off.

you might be unsure about your label, but he sure wanted to kiss you pinned up against that wall.

—

jungkook casually steals glances from you every now and then. you’ve been softly humming to christmas songs as the ice underneath your feet crunches with every step you take, influenced by the heavy snowfall despite the holidays being long gone.

when you came back, he thought you’d be giving him the cold shoulder, reminiscent of when you got pissed off at a hair stylist not even a week ago (that day, he learned that you’re grumpy when sick, grumpier when jealous). but instead, you lent him a white fuzzy scarf to keep him warm.

“where are we going?” he asks, unaware of your destination.

he’s just been following your lead for the past five minutes or so. he only knows that you’re going someplace that will satisfy your midnight cravings, as you mentioned over the phone earlier.

“i haven’t told you?” you wince. “just mcdonald’s. i’m craving their fries… hmmm, and chocolate sundae.”

“sundae? but you have a cough.”

“i’m all better now! that’s why i’m getting it!” you keen with excitement.

except jungkook is worried. at home and at work, he has many people fussing over him when he’s not feeling well. most of the time, you only have yourself to rely on. he doesn’t like thinking about your past boyfriends, but he hopes that they took care of you when you would get sick. as for the future, he hopes that he’s there.

he perks up when he sees the pharmacy store he’s been thoughtfully scanning both sides of the streets for, recognizing the lightbox signage. “let’s stop here. i’ll buy you your adult syrup.”

“jungkook,” you giggle airily, pulling at his jacket to motion him not to go near it. “i just told you that i’m not sick anymore.”

“it’s better to be prepared.” he reasons.

the snowfall has ceased. he transfers the umbrella to his other side, freeing his hand to hold yours and tug you along with him. he childishly pretends to not hear your protests.

he’s not showing it, but he must be embarrassed about earlier. you can’t help but to smile from ear to ear, watching his back as you’re left a few steps behind, the two of you tied together by his warm and protective grip of your hand.

“jungkook,”

your voice is calmer and quieter. he whips his head back, concerned eyes twinkling from the blaring headlights on the road.

“i’m thirsty.”

—

you’re blissfully unaware of jungkook falling in love with you from the opposite side of the table.

thoroughly engrossed with the movie-like scene outside the glass wall, you’re clutching an apple juice box in both hands, plastic straw stuck between your lips as you take baby sips. he probably sounds like a broken record, but there’s something different in the air tonight, and you’re twice as pretty in his eyes.

“i can sue you for that, you know?”

he drops his phone in shock. he chases it in pure panic as it clashes with the table before tumbling down to his lap. when he puts it down, the screen is already black, a desperate attempt of hiding the raw evidence of his offense. he smiles back at you sheepishly, cheeks and ears flushed after being caught red-handed.

“aren’t i cute? you already made it your lockscreen, haven’t you?” you tease, eyes flickering up to him as you begin stabbing at the chocolate sundae with the little plastic spoon to mix it.

“made what my lockscreen? no, i didn’t!” he strongly denies, holding up his phone to show it to you.

“plain black, really? what happened to gureumie?”

you send him a look of distaste.

“just makes me believe i’m really your lockscreen and you change it to something random before you come see me.” you say in a sing-song voice, shivering with delight after you lick your spoon clean of the sugary treat.

“don’t start. yours is your class schedule!” he retorts with a laugh, which goes up in volume when you slap his hand away for attempting to steal from your fries.

you scowl at him with a displeased pout, dipping a fry into the sundae before popping it in your mouth. “get away. i’m hungrier because you took so long.”

the effect of having your cravings satisfied is instantaneous. it was absolute hell, being sick, albeit it was only a cough accompanied by fatigue. it’s simply no fun being an adult and having no one enter your room every two hours to check up on you. for the first time in the past week, your brain is completely flooded with happy chemicals, and you feel like a little kid kicking their feet with glee.

“it’s not my fault! they had to do something to the ice cream machine… i-i think it stopped working.” jungkook stutters, stuffing his mouth full with a spoonful of his strawberry sundae.

of course, it’s the ice cream machine. it’s always the ice cream machine.

with a gasp, you weakly slam the empty juice box on the table. “wow, i almost didn’t get what i came here for.”

“but you did. ‘cause you’re with your lucky charm.” jungkook cheekily winks at you, and you long to kiss that stupid grin off his face.

—

“holy shit, he’s kneeling down now. kook, he’s begging- look-”

jungkook is convinced he has never seen your eyes this big. he looks at you dumbfoundedly, cheeks full as he chews a huge bite of his burger. you release a sigh, reaching over to turn his face to the side.

outside, just a few feet away at the opposite direction his body is facing, he discovers an angry tear-stained woman sitting on a bench and a man crying on his knees infront of her.

he swallows, tilting his head. huh, so this is what you were watching earlier when you didn’t notice him arrive with the food. funnily enough, this isn’t considered an unusual occurence in such a populated city.

“i knew it. he’s cheating, he’s definitely cheating.” you squint at the scene, shooting daggers in your mind. you rely on muscle memory as you continue to munch and dip your fries in the sundae without bothering to look anymore.

they were still arguing when you gave jungkook your undivided attention, but the shift in the atmosphere captured your interest again when your peripheral vision caught him on the ground.

“how do you know?”

“he panicked and snatched his phone away when she touched it. that’s why they started fighting.”

a sick feeling in your gut deflects your eyes away from the forlorn couple, the salt and the sugar in your food starting to taste bland on your tongue. on the other hand, it seems that it’s jungkook’s turn to be absorbed in them.

“oh, that makes sense.” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. “seriously, i’ll never understand cheaters. why… would you go out of your way to hurt a person who’s special to you?”

and because of that, his food are left to be unsupervised. with the hopes of resparking your appetite by stealing a taste of something you haven’t had in over a year, you scoop up a small bite of his strawberry sundae.

“that person isn’t special anymore, or maybe they never were in the first place.”

“but if you’re loved by that person, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, shouldn’t they still be special to you in some ways?”

he returns to his previous position, and the passion written in his eyes like constellations makes you want to believe that maybe the world isn’t a lost cause. it’s a breath of fresh air — the new point of view clear as day infront of you. jungkook is your best friend, it dawns on you then and there.

a best friend who sends you pictures of the sky. a best friend who won’t let you roam the midnight streets with melancholy. a best friend you want to kiss and hold hands with.

“they should, but they’re horny assholes who don’t think about stuff like that.”

“ah, then what a shame.” he chuckles with a scornful shake of his head, finally going back to devouring his burger.

it’s silent for a few beats.

right now, you like the strawberry flavor more than the chocolate. it tastes better than you remember. it’s rekindling an old flame.

“are you that type of boyfriend? who gives out their password?” your voice is rife with interest as you casually steal another spoonful of jungkook’s dessert.

“of course, i don’t mind. i have nothing to hide. i just have the most random photos, and like a thousand voice memos… but… how do i say it?” he pauses to organize his thoughts, eyes pointing towards ceiling. “uhm, it can get uncomfortable, and hurtful… if they always thoroughly check everything. i don’t know…”

“no, i get that. my ex was doubtful of me all the time and it was tiring. giving reassurance is important, but so is having boundaries… never forget that, understand?”

you radiate with so much tenderness, he finds it so easy to listen to every word that you say. but since you already understand the importance of balancing those two things, can he just forget about it and admire your face?

“is that why you broke up with him?”

you pucker your lips in thought, playfully twirling the plastic spoon between your fingers.

“i guess so? he… he just sees me as a bad person. and i was starting to believe that i am.” you decide to put it lightly, scoffing when the mortifying memories of him floods your mind. “when i had that epiphany, i broke up with him right away. we just weren’t good for each other.”

jungkook utters your name, mellow and sweet, like a serenade.

you’re reminded that he sings for a living.

“hmm?”

“i don’t know what happened between you but… when i say you’re a good person, i’m really being sincere.”

during the fall, talking about your past relationship made your heart feel unbearably heavy.

but tonight, it’s winter. jungkook holds out his little spoon to feed you a bite of his strawberry sundae, and you accept it without thinking.

uh-oh.

you peer up to him shyly.

“and because you were so kind to me the first time we met, i don’t mind you being a thief.” he fondly strokes your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your body vibrates with giggles. “aigoo, you eat so well. good job, ____.”

—

“where you are taking me? this isn’t the way home!”

jungkook has an arm around swung over your shoulder, gluing you to his side as you walk together. the last time you checked the time, it was 1:27am. the stores you brush past are already lights off, locked up, and the sidewalk is mostly dead and quiet.

“i really like taking photos, you know?” he grins, sounding thrilled, and you glance at him with suspicion in your eyes.

“i’m very much aware. and so?”

you yawn not long after, leaning some of your weight on him as tiredness seeps into your overused muscles. you’re awfully sleepy, and cold. you can hear your bed calling out your name from kilometers away.

“so we’ll take some together.”

from a distance, you immediately recognize the famous photobooth only several buildings away from the noisy night life of the long rows of bars and nightclubs.

you feel your knees go weaker.

oh, you’re in very serious trouble.

—

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his muscular thighs.

“sit here?” he pats his lap as an invitation, looking up to your motionless figure still standing infront of the closed curtain. “or do you want me to stand behind the chair?”

curse him and his intoxicating perfume and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“four photos and… we’ll print… two copies.” he thinks out loud, face so close to yours as he taps on the screen infront.

curse the stupid person who decided to only put one small stool in this small photobooth.

you won’t dare to make it obvious, but your heart is doing somersaults. you realize how arrogant you were for whining about him not kissing you yet, because here you are trying your hardest not to squirm as you’re sat across his lap.

unconsciously, you embrace the scarf he took off close to your chest.

it’s… been quite a long, torturous while of being deprived of physical touch. and you like jungkook. you like jungkook so much that despite hating cramped spaces, you flash the camera a sweet smile while playfully squishing his pouty face in your hand.

“oh, oh, that’s right!”

a yellow lightbulb appears above his head. he bounces his legs to capture your attention, his arms tightening around your waist to prevent you from falling off.

you cross your thighs to subtly squeeze them together, a poor attempt at putting out the fiery tingles spreading throughout your body. you swallow thickly. he needs to fucking sit still. your self-control is running thin.

“act angry at me and i’ll put it as the first picture, okay?”

“huh? why?”

“so i’ll always remember that you got annoyed at me for dragging you here.”

“and i’m still annoyed!” you slap his chest with a frown, glaring at him exactly as he imagined you would.

his mischievous grin stays when he faces the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign as the flash goes off.

when the timer starts again, he rushes to reach for the floor, sticking his hand in the paper bag from the pharmacy.

“for the next one- stay still-”

you’re completely clueless. your vision remains fixed on him until he reveals a bunch of pink ribbon hairclips on his big palm.

“where did you get these?” you blink at him.

he only shushes you as he removes the earwarmers from your head, thoughtfully fixing your hair before carefully adorning it with the ribbons as fast as he can.

“the ice cream machine wasn’t broken, was it?”

“shhh, we’re running out of time.” he rebukes you to mask his bashfulness, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he focuses on arranging the ribbons symetrically.

“are these mine?”

“yours.” he confirms absentmindedly. he backs up to inspect his work, but he only ends up thinking to himself is it right for someone to be this beautiful?

the time runs out before you can deem yourself ready. the camera captures jungkook trying to tame your baby hairs, and you, watching him with a faint smile of affection.

“what do we do now?”

he shrugs. “let’s do whatever we want.”

“wow, i can finally do what i want?” you reply sarcastically. “i thought you were prepared for this.”

“three seconds!”

since you’re already smiling in the other two photos, you figure that it’s your turn to pout in the last.

the number ‘1’ appears on the screen, and you feel him pull you closer than you’ve ever been.

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his hand on your neck and his soft lips pressed to your cheek.

—

“you’re sneaky.”

“you’re one to talk.” jungkook replies, and you roll your eyes.

he chuckles to himself as he scans his copy of the photostrip under the street lamp beside the photobooth. on the other hand, your back is resting against it, your arms crossed over your chest. you take a fleeting glance at him, secretly smiling to yourself because he looks so happy.

yours is tucked in between the pages of the book inside your bag.

later. you can look at it later when you’re a little more sane and the ghost of his lips stops lingering on your skin.

“i don’t just let myself get kissed for free. don’t you know that?” you heave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. “but since you bought me new clips,”

you turn your cheek to stare at him, but you instantly break the eye contact when you see how he looks like an excited puppy when he’s amused by you.

“…i’ll let this pass.”

“i think i just found the motivation to make more money today.”

you crack up at his words. “shut up!”

god, you’re getting swayed by his antics. he has too much hidden underneath his sleeve. you need to up your game.

a breeze sweeps across the earth, and you sniffle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. it’s getting colder and your battery is draining rapidly as the clock ticks. you die a little inside when you think about the consequences of your late-night adventure. there has to be time for you to squeeze in a nap between school and work, right? right? unbeknownst to you, jungkook takes notice of your weary state. he crosses the distance between you to wrap the ear warmers around your head.

“tsk, you’re going to catch a cold.” he whispers, loosely tying the straps under your chin. he reaches for a ribbon, but then pauses to ask for permission. “do you want to take off these now, so you won’t fall asleep on them? these are kind of sharp.”

“stop taking such good care of me.” you say half-jokingly, starting to remove them on your own. “i might get used to it.”

this upsets jungkook, it seems.

his lips are in a permanent pout as he answers, eyebrows knitting together. “what’s wrong with that?”

you only shake your head with a vague smile.

—

JK :

4:11am

[sent four photos]

credit GCF if you post on insta

got it?

you’re welcome !!!

4:13am

hehe you must be sleeping now right?

you better be !

4:18am

the truth is i’m a bit shy to tell you this in person but ... thank you for being someone i can spend time with comfortably and for always making me smile. i really like you a lot .. i mean that sincerely too

sweet dreams ____ :)

—

“goodnight, jungkook.”

you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, painstakingly chaste yet sinfully calculated. he was left all alone in the empty hallway of your apartment floor, too stunned to remember and return your scarf.

it is not the first time you did that, but his mind is reeling like crazy tonight — the corner of his lips is still stained with the graze of your lips.

a rhythmic knock snaps him out of the electrifying memory.

“jungkook-ah,” a freshly-awoken jimin raspily croaks out while he rubs his blurry eyes. “did you bring home anything?”

is this becoming a routine now? him visiting at an ungodly hour in the morning; jungkook sitting up without a word to retrieve the snacks from under his bed.

“thank you.”

he receives an appreciative pat on the back before jimin grabs one of the diamond-shaped biscuits you earnestly made a whole tray of, enough to go around for seven people. he nibbles on it as he flops down on the mattress, planning to sleep here some more until it’s time to prepare for work.

however, his drowsiness gets pushed to the back burner when the photostrip beside the maknae’s pillow attracts his attention.

“yo, jungkook! is this from tonight?”

“hyung! be quiet!” jungkook whisper-shouts.

“the staff didn’t mention a photobooth to me. is this a secret?” the late-night visitor whispers back to humor him.

the bed creaks as he chases the printed memories from jimin’s grasp, who seems to have gained enough energy to tease him, heartily giggling as he rolls away to the edge of the bed.

“yah, you’re so cute together?!”

jungkook’s bunny teeth pop out as he’s unable to resist a satisfied beam at the flattering remark. damn right, they do.

pulling out a pillow from behind him, he playfully hits jimin with the huge bundle of cotton. “hyung, finish eating and go back to sleep. we have that thing later, remember?”

“you’re hurting my feelings. what happened to telling your hyung about your crush?”

—

“wait a second- i’m still confused. you sprinted to the fashion boutique before ordering?” jimin flips over to lie down on his stomach, speech muffled by the biscuit between his lips.

“they close at midnight, so i had to run there first.” jungkook explains as he reseals the tupperware. weirdly, he only feels the ache in his body now that he’s talking about it. “they really like things like that.”

“you’ve told me. so how long do you plan on keeping that in here?”

his gaze lands on the paper bag labelled ‘CHANEL’ on the other side of the room, and he makes a pained expression, still agonizing over whether he should give it to you or not.

“but don’t you think it’s too much? maybe i should save it for their birthday.”

“be honest with me. do they even know you’re courting them?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[bluesidez]

Dad!Miguel drabble for Father's Day!!

content warning: curvy!reader, fem!reader, fluff, a little suggestive so MINORS BEWARE

word count: 697, not proofread (I can write less than 9k...contrary to popular belief)

other dad content ➺ DadBod!Miguel | Dad!Miguel Drabble | DadGymRat!Miguel Drabble | Dad'sBestFriend!Miguel

This can be in the same universe as the Dad Bod fic because I kept the kiddos' names the same, but I didn't describe Mig's body here, so you can imagine it how you would like! :D

Only Miguel would have to come into work on Father's Day of all days.

He woke up with his face snug against your chest and a whisper of the holiday greeting on your lips. It was way too hot to be grasping at each other so early, but that didn't stop him from grinning against your mouth as he held one of your thighs over his body.

A blissful morning of kisses and sweet nothings before the kids woke up was interrupted by the shrill of his work phone that he stupidly forgot to put on silent.

So here he was running back home after fixing a multitude of electric billboards across the city that read "Happy Farter's Day" instead of "Happy Father's Day." Of all of the staff in the company, Miguel wasn't sure why he was chosen to fix it. Maybe he was a father that wanted to have a nice, unbothered farting day.

It was itching close to the afternoon which meant almost a day gone without staring in your face and laughing with his babies. Almost a day gone without hearing the people closest to his heart.

Miguel nearly flew down the highway just to get back home. He wanted to be near his family.

He's never driven into a garage so fast.

"Honey? Mija? Mijo?"

Miguel's lanyard tapped against his button-up as he called out for the three of you. The house was quiet minus the ceiling fans humming in the window-lit rooms.

Had the three of you gone out without him?

Miguel walked through the house listening and looking for any clues as to where you all might be. Right when he was about to call you in a panic, he heard a giggle come from the deck.

Sliding the curtain open, he watched as his babies were running through the backyard, Raul barely keeping up with Gabriella's speed.

"You're back!" Miguel could hear you to the left of him. His breath hitched taking in your figure.

A blue flowy dress frames your curves, thin straps hug your shoulders, and the cut of the neckline accentuates the place where he held his head this morning.

You walk up to him and reach up for a kiss that he happily reciprocates, "Welcome home, baby."

You call the kids to come up and eat. Their little feet scatter to reach Miguel.

He bends down to take them into his arms, a hearty laugh leaving him as he picks them both up in the air. He plants their faces with raspberry kisses, Gabriella squealing while Raul asks for him to do it again and again.

You smile at them, watching as Miguel spun around with the kids holding on tight. The grumpiness that filled Miguel up this morning after that dreaded call poured out of him and was replaced with warmth and happiness.

This is the moment that Miguel was yearning to experience all morning. A day for him and his family.

"C'mon. Go get changed so we can head over to Gabriel's. He said something about a grill and a splash pad?" you slid your hand over his lower back, fingers sliding through the belt loops of his pants.

As you took a tug at one loop, Miguel leaned over and gave your lips a peck, "Gabriel only knows how to work one of those things."

"I guess we have to take a gamble with today's lunch then," you chuckle, taking Raul from Miguel as he sat Gabriella down. "Dinner will be perfect for sure."

"Yeah?" Miguel raised an eyebrow you. Your eyes were full of mirth and something else Miguel couldn't quite place yet. "I can't wait, then."

When Miguel was up in the bedroom, he began to see why that playful glint painted your face.

A small gift back was placed on the bed with a new silk tie and the tag for what he could assume was a pair of panties.

"A matching set for you and I. I wonder what can be done with this tie?

When the mood is right, we'll find out tonight.

A fun way to end your lovely Father's Day."

Dinner would definitely exceed lunch.

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT! I love to see what you guys have to say! <3

a/n: I hope everyone who deserves it has a Happy Father's Day! I'm talking older siblings who raised their siblings, kids who grew up too fast, single mothers, single fathers, good fathers, and fictional men who will stop the world for their kids! You're doing great. Tomato to deadbeat fathers. You deserve nothing.

taglist: @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @slushycoookie @calig0sto @ghost-lantern

@tatatida @haveclayeveryday @corpsenightmarebride @samjinxx @earth2fae

@maiyart @Feegrh32 @darkstalight82 @ladysimp @vmpz8sauceee

@Leonsbimbogf @unwrittenletter @maxlinpetersen @madeofstar-dust @leoeloo

@just-simpins-blog @poisamm @thequeenreaders @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@tojishugetiddies @pigeonmama @av3da @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli

@koikohib @jayskookies

[buckys3rdnip]

Pulling at Heartstrings

"You listen to music while you shoot people?"

"You dont?"

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader (F) 18+ (mdni)

Warnings/Tags: Ambiguous timeline, Classic tower fic, Music lover/dependent reader, a little bit of Sexual tension if you squint, Sniper!Reader, One-shot/Drabble maybe eventually a fic, Fluff, Age-Gap, Possessive Bucky, Mutual-pining, Insecure Reader, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You hate silence. Every hour of the day, there was either a speaker or earphones feeding you the sweet melodies of hyperspecific playlists and songs that were just right—anything to fill the silence. After a while of being an Avenger, you began to grow feelings for the former Winter Soldier, becoming good friends and work partners. Suddenly, the 40s were sounding pretty good in your ears.

Author’s Note: My first fic on here! I’ve been listening to too much 40s and 50s music and wanted to write something that was tooth-rottingly fluffy. I highly recommend listening to the song attached or maybe reading the lyrics to enjoy the full extent of the story but its not totally necessary! :)

———————————————————————————

Everyone has quirks and unique habits that might be considered irrelevant to some, while others rely on these little nuances to better understand those around them.

Bucky was the latter.

Despite being a couple of decades behind, about 10, it didn't go unnoticed to Bucky how whenever there was music playing, it was usually by you, and if anyone cared enough to pay close attention (which he did), it gave pretty good insight into how you were feeling throughout the day. Some songs meant good days, others meant not-so-good days, and then there were the ones that had made him curious. He took note of how recently, in between your usual rotations of 90's rock and grungey new-wave taste you had, there'd be an occasional song or two he could surprisingly recognize coming from your room, only because it'd be something between the 1930s or 40's. Especially on the days you’d spend together, either training, working, or sometimes after just being around one another long enough.

It was the morning after your most recent mission with Bucky. Normally, the mornings weren’t really your thing, meanwhile Bucky’s already on his run just before the sun came up. You wake up at about 8:00am, thankfully, you had no missions today, which meant you could enjoy a Saturday for the first time in weeks. Regardless of the day, you never changed your morning routine. At this point, it was a ritual, so to speak. After waking up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t skip a beat as you hurry to rummage through your shelf full of mixtapes, CDs, records, etc. Oh, sure, you had Bluetooth speakers in your room, the compound surrounded you in the latest tech, inaccessible to civilians probably for the next 30 to 50 years- it was like living in the future, confined to just this tower alone. But you also had an appreciation for tangible, real things. Old things. Your civies were comprised of vintage band shirts and ripped jean shorts, all covered in a mix of your perfume and the scent of gunpowder. Maybe in another life, you’d be a video vixen for the newest up-and-coming rock band of the century, instead of being perched on rooftops, taking people out in broad daylight or under the cover of shadows.

You pop a tape into the stereo that’s set up by your dresser, the floor-to-ceiling window flooding in the warm sunlight rising over New York as you hit play and wake yourself up for the day ahead. You’ve always had a broad taste with some select favorites, your usual choices on the more alternative side, but you enjoyed the occasional ballet or 80s hit, to switch things up. However, lately your song choices have been a bit different. As the song began to play, you hummed along. This morning, you were listening to a song from the 50s by a female group that seemed to perfectly capture the inner turmoil you were silently facing.

It didn’t matter how well you shot, how high your mission success rate was, or how proficient your training and performance were. Bucky was stubborn, and had a tendency to doubt. It wasn’t anything against you or your skills, but rather his distrust towards the world and its merciless inhabitants. After growing closer over time, you and Bucky naturally learned each other’s characteristics, you quickly discovered how…protective Bucky was. Overbearing was really the word you were looking for. He had a habit of hovering, almost helicoptering at times, on missions and at home. If you were hanging around someone else for too long or if one of the guys made you laugh a bit too hard, the tension in Bucky’s jaw and shoulders seemed to tighten with irritation. Of course, this usually went unnoticed by you; after all, his grumpy exterior wasn’t exactly out of character for him. One thing he did that got under your skin a bit was remind you of the fact that you’re younger. Not by much (according to your opinion), even if he was about 100 years old, it’s not like he was really that ancient, and you weren’t a child. Being a young woman in your 20s, you didn’t take kindly to being referred to as anything but a grown adult. But it seemed like you couldn’t escape the offhanded use of ‘kid’ he or some of the others threw around while talking to or scolding you. You honestly couldn’t care less if it came from anyone else. But the fact that it was him bothered you to no end. The stories you’d hear from Steve of Bucky being quite the charmer with women and hearing about the type of women he had gone for before the war left you feeling unsettled, maybe at times anxious, and a little bit insecure. You couldn’t deny that at times, when under stress, you had the habit of acting like a raging teenager who was angry at anything- everything. This only strengthened your self-consciousness. As you mumbled the words and hummed along to the tune, you peeled off the sleep shirt you wore to bed, changing into some black shorts and a t-shirt with the neckline cut across so it would hang off your shoulders, revealing the black bra straps hugging your triceps. You make sure to shut off the stereo before heading to the kitchen and common area to fix yourself something up. A smile twitches at the corners of your lips as you see Bucky, white tank top and basketball shorts, post-run run sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee, reading a newspaper.

“Y’know most people watch the news nowadays.” You say, walking over to the coffee maker against the kitchen backsplash. He doesn’t look up, but the chuckle in his throat makes your heart skip a small beat.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested in hearing a news anchor shout at me this early, so words and pictures are doing just fine for now.” He speaks through another soft chuckle, his lips curling into the most heartthrobbed smile, and he wasn’t even looking in your direction, yet it was enough for you to make the mistake of overpouring your coffee. “Oh shit-” You winced and put down your mug, whispering a small string of curses under your breathing, verbally berating the hot liquid as you quickly wiped away at the small spill on the counter. Bucky's eyes shot up from the paper, following you as you scrambled, quickly cleaning your mess despite the lack of actual urgency to do so. He found your erratic nature…endearing. “You okay?” His tone was toeing the line between genuine concern and slight amusement in seeing you flustered over spilled coffee. “Yeah, I got it..” You reluctantly grumbled as you wiped down the side of your mug.

A few minutes pass, you finish making your coffee with no more casualties to the counters and floor, taking a seat beside Bucky, with your elbows propped up as you sip on the warm beverage. A couple more seconds of quiet continue to fill the room before Bucky thankfully breaks it. His next words, however, nearly make you choke as he casually speaks. “So, The Poni-Tails, huh? I prefer the stuff made in the 40s, but maybe the 50s is acceptable, not sure how great those were.” You realize halfway through his sentence that he’s looking at you again. “…I knew my stuff was loud, but I didn’t think it was that loud.” You reply in a bit of a nervous laugh. “That’s a lie. You know exactly how loud you can be.” Bucky’s still smiling, you had to pretend you weren’t absolutely reeling at the sight of it, not to mention his words making your brain make associations that probably weren’t appropriate for this conversation. “I gotta admit, I don’t think I’ve heard you play that one before. That one's new.” He added on, leaning in a little in a slightly playful manner. The fact that he could pick up on the correlation between you and your music selections made your brain short-circuit a little from the disbelief that anyone on this planet would even pay the smallest bit of attention to that kind of detail about you. You could’ve sworn you forgot how to speak for a second. You don’t even notice his empty cup as he stood up from his seat to go put it in the dishwasher, your gaze following him as you struggled to find anything to say, but that was okay because he wasn’t done.

“If I wasn’t busy being such a hardass, I would’ve picked up on it sooner.” He began, setting the cup down before walking over to you as you shifted in your seat a bit, your eyes soft and full like a doe in the forest as you looked up at Bucky. His hands reaching down to grip the sides of your stool, you felt his thumbs graze the outer part of your thighs as his fingers curled around the edges of your seat, his gaze boring into you. “Do you really think I don’t…feel things for you?” His voice was soft, the gravel at his throat rumbling in his words as he spoke in a gentle, almost vulnerable tone, searching your eyes for how you truly felt. Your lips were slightly parted as you stared up at him in surprise, taken aback by his forwardness.

“No, I-” You cleared your throat a bit as you felt embarrassment creep up on your cheeks as they grew warmer. “…I didn’t.” You managed to finish. Bucky hung his head for a moment with a soft sigh, he seemed disappointed…but in himself? He shook his head disapprovingly before lifting it back up to meet your nervous eyes. His thumb gently rubbed small circles on the side of your thigh beside your knee. “I didn’t know you were having a hard time. I never meant to make you feel this way, like you couldn’t be enough for me. It’s the complete opposite…” He trailed off. Bucky chewed at his bottom lip for a moment to stifle a curse as he brought up his hand to cup your cheek. The flesh of his palm was warm as it met your face, his touch gentle. “...The fact is, I need you, I rely on you to keep me from losing my mind in all this noise...Even if it makes me selfish I don't care, I can’t stand the thought of having to share you with anyone...” He breathed, hanging his head again with a small sigh.

"You're more than what I deserve and all I desire."

Your heart is beating so fast you feel it in your head and at the tips of your fingers as his words sink in. You had spent hours, even full nights, consumed with dread, telling yourself that you were the wrong girl from the wrong time, doubting yourself and your chances with someone as extraordinary as the man before you. But here he was, snuffing your doubts and proving your demons wrong. Not only was your love for him requited, but he was looking at you like you were his salvation, and as far as Bucky was concerned; you were.

"Stop looking at me like that before I kiss you..." You say, your breath shaky as your worries from before had subsided, now your only concern being whether or not you can practice the little sense of self restraint you had left when it came to Bucky.

He doesn't even hesiate, not sparing another second being away from you as he leans forward. Your lips locking and drowning into one another, as if you had been stranded in the desert and this was your oasis. It was perfect, he was perfect and so were you- Bucky didn't care what he had to do to make sure you knew that. He'd spend every day of the rest of his life convincing you if he had to. You both pull away, your lips ghosting each other, brushing against the skin as even your breaths seemed to synchronize from the small heat of passion.

"Can..we do that again?" You softly panted.

Bucky couldn't hold back a toothy grin, chuckling softly. "We'll be doing that and a whole lot more."

END.

[captain-hawks]

matsukawa + dark green? (love your colour theory drabbles so much they're giving me so much life 🩷)

(thank you so much<3!!!)

issei matsukawa x reader

c: fluff, pining, best friend!mattsun, matsukawa's sexy hands

“You good?”

Amusement glints in Matsukawa’s eyes as his hand stills, the large knife held in his grip lodged deep in the belly of the watermelon that sits atop the cutting board. 

The back of your neck prickles with the heat of embarrassment as you tear your gaze away from the surface of the counter—from the sight of his other hand that’s splayed wide against the smooth surface of the fruit. The way the veins on the back of it flex as he holds it steady while a stream of sticky juice trails between his knuckles and down his wrist. 

“We’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up,” you evasively reply, wiggling the large plastic container that the watermelon cubes will be going in. 

He shrugs, casually lifting the side of his wrist to his mouth and licking away the juice, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the sound that threatens to crawl up your throat. 

You’ve been friends with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki for ages, but you've always been closest with Mattsun. And as teen years of friendship flourished into your twenties, so has the undeniable flutter of attraction that beats persistently in your chest for your best friend. It’s a problem that’s blossomed tenfold as of late, now that the two of you are both single for the first time since high school. 

While you’ve prided yourself on your ability to mostly compartmentalize these inconvenient feelings to the best of your ability—despite how difficult it is when you spend nearly all of your free time together—it’s this stupid fucking watermelon of all things that will now be your undoing, it seems. 

Your apartment is a block away from Mattsun and Makki’s place, so your joint trip to the grocery store today to pick up food for Oikawa’s barbecue wasn’t abnormal in the slightest.

But the absolutely unhinged bolt of arousal that suddenly slithered its way down your spine without warning when you found him casually lifting up watermelons and inspecting them in the produce area? The way your toes curled in your sneakers as you watched him slide his large palms along each one to inspect it for a promising yellow spot? 

The fact that you had to feign passionate interest in the bulbs of garlic beside you to hide how you nearly choked on your spit when you saw the way his long fingers spread and slotted across the watermelon’s thick, dark green stripes?

You’ve incidentally seen this man half naked more times than you can count, yet it’s the sight of his hands on a watermelon that somehow wrecks you beyond repair on this balmy summer day in the middle of July.

And now you’re leaning against the counter in his kitchen while he slices away through the thick rind and into the soft pink interior, wondering desperately how you’re going to survive the rest of the day now that you’ve lit this dangerous thread of thought that’s rapidly burning its way through your insides like a stick of dynamite. 

“I think we picked out a good one, try it first at least.”

Rather than wait for you to reach out and take the triangular slice clutched in his hand, Matsukawa smirks as he steps toward you and places it against your lips. The pink pulp is sweet as he presses it past the boundary of your mouth, which opens of its own accord as your back presses into the edge of the countertop behind you. Your stomach flutters violently.

You’re half certain you’re imagining it, the way his eyes darken slightly when you make no move to take it from him, choosing instead to maintain eye contact as you slowly bite down into the flesh of the watermelon while he holds it for you.

“Well?” he asks, voice a little rough.

Reaching out, you let your fingers encircle his wrist, tugging it just close enough to take another bite. The juice spills, tracking its way down your chin as you run your tongue along your bottom lip.

“It’s good,” you tell him, wondering if he can hear how loudly your heart is thrumming beneath your ribcage.

Matsukawa lifts his other hand and drags his thumb through the sticky line of juice just below your lips, staring at you unblinkingly as he brings the digit to his own mouth. He nods, as if that taste alone was enough for him to agree.

“Issei—” you start, suddenly very aware of the lack of space between your body and his.

His hand hovers in the air, fingers and palm curved like he’s about to cup the side of your face, and you swear you're on the verge of spontaneously combusting right here between the dripping faucet and your unfairly handsome best friend.

—and then the front door to the apartment bursts open, accompanied by Makki’s singsong voice as he trudges inside and yells, “Oikawa said we’re all dead to him if we don’t get to his place in the next fifteen minutes!”

Matsukawa’s hand drops, and you watch as the expression on his face shutters.

But it’s undeniably deliberate—the way his fingertips brush against yours before he turns around and sighs. 

[sweetfushi]

hihihihi i hope ur having a very good day and that this request is even understandable and grammatically correct!!!!!! this thought has been plaguing my mind sososos much but i reallyreallylyly want just a short drabble or anything w jjk (any character u find that fits best idm) of them like drawing a bath n washing your hair after a long day or smth smth (nooooottttttt in a suggestive way plsplsplspls)

okay thats it >3< !!!! im praying this doesnt come off as pushy T_T

PAMPERING YOU AFTER A LONG DAY

fluff | satoru gojo, toji fushiguro, kento nanami x reader, stress, frustration, running you a bath, washing you, no suggestiveness just pure fluff and comfort <3 | word count. 1.7k ◦ notes. hihihihi nonnie!! don't worry your grammar is fine and you didn't come off as pushy at all, i hope you enjoy mwah

SATORU GOJO.

Satoru can tell something is up when you toss your decently-expensive blazer haphazardly on your desk, showing little care when it inevitably slips and falls on the ground. He doesn’t need you to tell him, he picks it up in an instant and throws it on the back of your office chair.

“I would ask how work went but you don’t look like you’re in the mood to answer questions,” he huffs, somewhat amused. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure today was a universally terrible day at work. Everyone on the street looked miserable as hell,” he assures you through the kiss he places to the top of your head.

“Oh I’m sure,” you mumble, recalling the frustration you experienced facing your arrogant supervisor. “Sorry, that tone wasn’t aimed at you.”

“I didn’t think it was, dove, but thank you for the reassurance,” he laughs softly, the breathy sound evidence of his own exhaustion.

Satoru starts to head out of your office to let you settle down, but pauses in the doorway. You barely pay him any mind other than a small smile as you pull your laptop out of your bag and place it on your desk, and mutter incoherently about how disgusting the five empty snack wrappers in your bag are. He continues to watch as you let down your hair from its bun toss your hair tie beside your laptop.

“Come to the bathroom in ten. Vanilla or floral?”

You squint. “What?”

“Scent. Pick.”

“Why are you talking in half-sentences? And vanilla.”

“Why aren’t you used to it? And alright,” he retorts with a long finger pointing at you, before narrowly dodging the pen you throw at him by rushing out the doorway and seeking refuge in the bathroom.

The bathroom that, ten minutes later, you find yourself being pampered in. Satoru is sat on a stool beside the bathtub as you soak in the water, stretching your legs and fluttering your lashes at the therapy the hot water provides to your aching muscles. Speaking of, you don’t have to strain a single one as Satoru doesn’t let you lift a finger. He’s massaging your shampoo into your hair, gently scratching your scalp and inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla.

The water reaches your chest and provides the perfect height for you to make shapes with the bubbles and bring them close to your face to inspect before blowing away. He watches as you repeat this process with multiple shapes, some more recognisable than others, and feels himself desiring to kiss you.

“Do you think–,” the moment you turn your head to ask, Satoru’s lips meet yours quickly yet so dreamily and so gently. You practically whine into the kiss, both because he cut you off and because you’re caught off guard by how intimate the moment suddenly becomes.

So much so that you’re left panting by the time he pulls away and flashes you a faux innocent smile, to which you glare at him and tense up like a cat when he starts rinsing the shampoo out your hair. After he applies a mask in your hair and clips it up, Satoru struggles to maintain a healthy heart rate when you rest your arms on his knees and your head on them, eyes lowering with the appearance of tiredness.

“I can’t wash you like this, baby.”

“Just for a bit.”

A minute goes by. “How long is a bit?” He finally asks.

“A lot.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“I can finally show you what I’ve been workin’ on,” Toji smirks, taking your hand in his after you manage to shove your shoes off by the door. He’s been working on the spare room you had for a month now and would refuse to let you even peek any time you asked. You assumed that your husband had finally resorted to illegal money-making tactics to fund your lifestyle, but he was (suspiciously) quick to shut that idea down.

When he did need help continuing the project, he had called in a few men you weren’t familiar with to assist. You’d complain about the random men in your house, to which he’d pull you in for a kiss on your temple and insist that it’s worth it.

He unlocks the door to the room and rushes behind you to cover your eyes. “Is this necessary? You’ve already made me wait a month.”

“A few seconds more can’t hurt,” he retorts with a snicker at your enthusiasm. He uses his elbow to push the door open and only when he guides you to step into the room and close the door behind you does he lower his hands from your eyes. “Surprise.”

Surprise was an understatement. Toji had renovated the room to almost appear bigger and function as a spa, with extensive windows along the top of the walls that are big enough to let fresh air in but small enough to not actually show the interior of the room from the outside. A massage table stood in the middle of the room with two tables at either side of it, both neatly organised with numerous body oils, lotions and Vogue magazines.

“If you don’t say something in the next second I’m gonna assume you’re plotting to kill me.”

“I love it.”

“Thank God.”

You giggle at his exaggerated exhale and turn to tackle him in your embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your height for your own comfort. Toji smiles into your neck, resting his hands on your lower back and letting himself inhale your scent and delightful aura.

“Now,” you start as you break away from the hug, “I believe I’m in need of a masseur.”

Toji - or your masseur - is quick to have you strip down and lay you on your stomach with a white towel over your backside. He laughs at your heavy sigh and the way your head flops down onto the table, simply letting him work one of the oils on your skin and tense muscles. Every so often, when he feels you drifting off to sleep, he’ll bend down and place a kiss on your hairline, sometimes hearing you mumble in response.

His fingers are calloused enough to draw you out of your slumber after a minute or so, but you don’t complain since they’re the same fingers that ward you into that sleep initially. You don’t talk at all aside from a few incoherent murmurs, ones that even when Toji responds with “hm?” to, you don’t repeat or say any clearer. He has to contain the soft, breathy laugh that threatens to escape at your dazed, drowsy state - he doesn’t want to disrupt your peace.

“You good, mama?” Toji asks breathily, slowing his movements momentarily.

You groan in response. “You better keep those hands moving, boy.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You can hear the grin in his voice but can’t find the strength to glare at him for it let alone lift your head to do so.

KENTO NANAMI.

The first thing you notice when you walk through the front door is the delivery bag by the bin. You wonder why it’s not in the bin, but also why it’s here in the first place. You’re certain you have leftovers that are enough to feed you two for the evening. However with closer inspection of the bag, you realise it to be of a bakery that is very much raved about, both at work and on social media.

I’ll be damned if I let this man finish these sweets without me.

“Kento! I’m home!” You call out, expecting a prompt response from the kitchen or living room. Instead, you hear some shifting and clanging upstairs, likely in the bathroom, and hang your jacket up before trotting up the stairs. “Are you okay? What was that sound?”

“Ah, I’m fine, sweetheart. I didn’t anticipate making this much noise, though,” he replies sheepishly just as you push the bathroom door open. Once you do, the aroma of something you can’t quite place your finger on caresses your senses, making you shut your eyes to fully indulge in it. Nanami chuckles at your rapidly relaxed demeanour and dries his hands off before coming over to embrace you.

“Hi,” you smile into the crook of his neck.

“Hi,” he reciprocates, sighing contently at the feeling of your hands roaming the expanse of his back. He shifts you in his arms so that his left is swung over your shoulders, while the other motions towards the relaxation project that is your bathroom. As you let yourself admire the filled bathtub, lit candles and rose petals decorating both the water and some of the floor, you’re reminded of the sweets.

“Do I also get a cake?” You stare up at him pointedly.

Nanami recalls the delivery he made and rubs your left shoulder. “Also isn’t the right word here, I swear I haven’t had any yet,” he laughs breathily, letting you strip while he positions the small tray table on the edges of the bathtub. When you’re finally relieved of your clothes, you practically squeal at the sight of numerous cakes, brownies and fruits decorating the wooden tray, barely giving Nanami enough time to stand before you’re crawling into the tub and snuggling under the warm water.

“Now I know you washed your hair yesterday,” he says as you start to feel his hands gather your hair and clip it up, “which is why I want this to be focused on easing your stress. Both physical and mental forms.”

You’re practically gaping at the rate at which he’s making your heart race from simply his words and gestures. Reluctantly you are to admit that perhaps Nanami deserves to have some of your sweets. Realistically, it would be days before you’d finish them all. “Come here and give me a kiss, you,” is all you respond with, to which Nanami complies eagerly and results in him groaning under the soft feeling of your hands rubbing the back of his neck.

Your hand trails up to scratch his scalp and he shivers in delight, allowing his hand to grasp your jaw gently but with enough grip to make you shiver and smile into the kiss. The kiss that inevitably ends because you need to breathe and let Nanami tend to you.

When he reaches for your body wash, you grab his arm and insist that you eat first. You need some sugar in your system before you crash from sheer relaxation under your husband’s attention.

“Feed me, husband.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “As you wish, my wife.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post. all that is included in this post, aside from the photos, fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[anika-ann]

For the made up fic title game: counting daisies

Thank you, dear💕

From this game in which, DEAR BRAIN, we should describe a plot that comes to our mind when we see the suggested title ✨

Brain: okay, gotcha, here's a 700-word drabble with literal daisies

...well, and there IS. Slice of life, TONS of fluff and silliness.

Counting Daisies

Warnings: alcohol consumption and mention of very long festivities

“Loves me… loves me not…”

The breeze carried the soft sound of music from the cabin, falling on deaf ears as you continued to meticulously mutter under your breath, peeling off one daisy petal after another.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

The dead of the night was slowly lifting; but the meadow you had lied on to escape the festivities for a moment – even as they were for you – never seemed more alive, lit up by the first peeks of sunrays, glistening on the grass and flowers.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

Your vision was a little blurry, the champagne having gone to your head a little, your feet hurting from having danced so much; you had discarded your heels a long time ago, the pair of flats abandoned on the deck of the cabin too.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

You had walked barefoot here, the grass and late spring morning dew tickling your skin, the hem of your dress growing darker as you dragged it through the damp grass; the earth wasn’t all that cold, but pleasantly refreshing to lie on.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

You could feel the tiny drops of morning dew continue to fall into your hair, seeping into your burning skin, the sensation bringing a silly smile to your lips; or perhaps that was the alcohol and the warm feeling in your chest.

“Loves me… loves me not… Loves me—dammit!”

 You huffed, staring at the daisy with a frown, your heart skipping a frustrated beat.

“What is it?” sounded the voice above you, the amused note in it causing you to huff again and pout, showing off the daisy – now with the worst possible number of petals for you. You would get the wrong result, for sure. “Uh huh… I see. I think you peeled off two petals at some point.”

You frowned harder, shifting in your position, the grass suddenly colder under your back, a little unpleasant in comparison to the soft pillow made of Steve’s thighs under your head.

You met his sparkling gaze, your breath catching for a moment; he looked magnificent. Slightly ruddy cheeks illuminated by the early sun making his hair into a warm halo, soft if amused gaze observing you with adoration, his bowtie undone and hanging off his neck, drawing your attention to the column of his throat, to the loosened buttons. He had changed from his old uniform and you were grateful; as handsome as he had looked in it, he was also gorgeous in a suit. And his reasoning behind the change of clothes made your heart melt.

'I don’t want to live in and keep comparing to the past. I think today is just another proof that the future is much more important. I can’t wait to live it… especially after today.'

Your smile turned dreamy at the memory of his confession, the familiar sting of tears burning in your eyes for a moment.

And then you remembered. The daisy. That damn daisy.

“You’re just saying that,” you protested, sighing, all too aware you were being dramatic.

“Am I now?”

He leaned to his left for a bit, taking a fresh daisy, twirling it between his fingers with a grin.

“Yes! You would!... Now I have to start again.”

You reached for the daisy, only to have it pulled out of your reach, Steve’s smile widening as your eyebrow rose in question.

“Or...” he suggested lowly, leaning forward, filling all your vision as his face neared yours dangerously, his nose lightly bumping yours, “you could just ask me, sweetheart.”

Before you could protest – as if – his lips gently landed on yours, sweetness and love indeed pouring from the tender kiss, his fingers carding through your hair. You reached for his cheek, stroking over his cheekbone, leaning into his affection with a dopey smile forming on your lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he whispered to your lips before he pecked them one more time, retreating and weaving the daisy he had picked into your hair. “Beautiful.”

“You too. And you taste like happiness and champagne.”

Steve chuckled, your words having left you in a daze registering in your brain, causing you to join him.

“I think I’m a little drunk on both. And on you,” you admitted, earning a kiss to your forehead this time, lingering with tenderness.

“I think we both are.”

Dropping the deceptive flower from your hand, you took Steve’s left hand, interlacing your fingers, the rings adorning your hands not longer than twelve hours making a soft clinking noise, your and Steve’s smile growing wider – and full of love despite whatever a random daisy claimed.

“But I think we earned it, Mr. Rogers.”

-🌼💍🌼-

Welp, this happened 😅Hope you enjoyed 🥰 Especially @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory since this is on her 🤭💕

[darylbae]

hiii! could you write something fluff with daryl and a Latina reader? they are in a established relationship and she always rumble things or talk to herself in her language and daryl really wanna know more about what she saying and also wanna know more her culture but is really shy to ask plss🥺💕

spanish for dummies — daryl dixon 🩰

in which daryl wants to learn more of your language, but he is far too shy to admit it

note: i made it a lil drabble because i don't know a lot of spanish, if i got anything wrong please correct me!

You and Daryl had made it exclusive very recently, so it was all very new to you. But the two of you were so infatuated with one another, that it made everyone sick. He'd always have an arm around you, or coming to find you at random points in the day. People would even see you whispering to each other and laughing. It was all very sweet. You'd been at Hilltop for a few days, helping Maggie with running things day to day, and beginning to build a few things. Of course, Daryl had accompanied you from Alexandria to Hilltop, and promised to stay with you.

“Y/N!” One of the Hilltop residents called out, and you’d turned to spot them waving you over. You had quickly separated from Daryl, who had his arm around your waist as you spoke about potentially making shields. Although he had followed you over.

You’d run over to see the new water system installed. You’d selected a group of people to start making an easier way to get water into the community, and to see the large basins of water finally come to life, you were amazed.

“Es asombrosa,” you whispered, mainly to yourself in bewilderment that the plan you’d made together worked. Things were really starting to come together now, and you couldn’t be happier. “Well done, guys.”

As you’d started to walk off, Daryl had caught up to you and smoothed his hand over his jaw. You’d come to notice it was a nervous tick of his. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“Whatever you just said.”

“Oh, es asombrosa? It means it’s amazing. It’s a good thing.” You smiled, only now realising you’d have to translate some things that were natural to you.

Daryl just nodded, still curious about all your little phrases you’d come out with daily. You don’t really notice yourself doing it, but Daryl does.

Staying at Hilltop, you’d made some progress, you’d spent the whole of today tending to the crop just outside the walls. Whilst a small group had gone out on a run, Daryl included.

It wasn’t until you heard the roar of a motorcycle that you’d looked up to see your gorgeous man riding in, slowing as he approached the road next to you. His tough, brooding exterior shortly disappeared with a sweet smile, and you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck.

“Te extraño,” you sighed into his ear, breathing in the smell of his musk. You quickly translated for him, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart. Now let me take you home.” He cooed, taking your hand and helping you onto the back of his bike. To ride the extra few meters back into the gates.

That night, you and Daryl had settled into one of the rooms Maggie had allowed you to stay in whilst you were here. You’d crawled into bed long before Daryl did, as he was sitting through his backpack secretly.

“What you hiding in there?” You questioned, putting your book down and folding your arms. It was a playful prod but you weren’t expecting him to be so secretive.

“Nothin’.”

You huffed. “Come on, Dar. No secrets.”

“Just somethin’ I found today.” He admitted, throwing his backpack next to the bed.

“Ooh. Is it condoms?”

“No.”

“A stuffed animal?”

“Absolutely not.”

“A Halloween costume?”

“What? No.”

“Come on! Tell me!”

Daryl sat down next to you, an arm around you as you settled on his chest. “Fine”.

He reached into the backpack and pulled out a small book, and turned the title page towards you. Spanish for Dummies.

“Stop! Really? I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” You squealed, pressing kisses all over his cheek and jaw.

“Just wanna understand ya more.” Daryl reasoned, brushing hair from your face, “so ya don’t have to translate everythin’.”

[opultea]

Where’s My Kiss? - 2

Genshin men see you kiss something, and can’t help but want one for themselves… ft. Gorou, Wanderer

GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Romantic - Drabbles - Fluff, Angst w/ fluff ending (Wanderer) - SFW (very slightly suggestive at the end of Gorou's)

Word Count: 1.6k

Part 1 - ft. Dottore, Zhongli

Guest Staring - Tawara! Camp dog of the Watastumi Resistance. (Featured in the 2023 birthday art for Gorou, check it out if you haven't seen it!)

Gorou

The finality of the hard won end to the Vision Hunt Decree was an event celebrated by all of Inazuma, most of all the resistance of Watatsumi. Although despite the relief and happiness that the peace brought, there was also the struggle of readjustment. It was not easy coming down from the high tensions of war, and the army still had soldiers in excess. Many now contributed to the last relief efforts for struggling communities, and as reconnaissance units. This was the very task you and a very special operations officer were undertaking at present.

Tawara scouted ahead as you secured the empty battlefield. Many war torn plains were left with lasting remains of equipment and resources, of which you and your trusty camp dog were tasked with retrieving. Her Excellency wished to put the war in the past, and to move forward, there couldn’t be such reminders of the horrors endured during the time.

“Tawara! Where are you boy?” You called, hoping the sweet shiba hadn’t gone too far. A yip in the distance helped your eyes find the pup stood atop a small hill where the enemy camp would have been.

This particular battlefront had little left of the war, only a few broken weapons and cracked armour plates that weren’t considered worth salvaging when the camp was first emptied. You took stock of how much still lay in the field so you could get an accurate gauge of how many soldiers it would take to clean it up for good.

Tawara zipped down the hill and over to you, pressing his paw to your shin to gain your attention. Looking down, you smiled at the pup and the dendrobium he held in his mouth.

“For me?” Tawara carefully dropped the bloom at your feet and barked cheerfully, sitting and awaiting your reaction expectantly. “Aw, aren’t you just the sweetest,”

You knelt down and cooed at the camp dog’s cuteness, squishing his fluffy cheeks in your hands, causing Tawara’s tail to wag wildly behind him.

Plucking the dendrobium off the ground, you inspected the deep red bloom before your gaze drifted across the still-dead grass of the field. New shoots of green could be seen dotting the dry dirt, but there was no mistaking the ground flattened by the feet of soldiers. Perhaps Her Excellency would approve planting some dendrobiums in the field to restore and improve the area.

“You’re a true genius Tawara,” you smiled, smoothing the fur on his head with a well-deserved pat. You went a step further with your affections, clasping Tawara's face in your hands again to press a gentle kiss on his left and then his right ear, before landing one on his snout. You laughed as the pup licked your cheek in return.

Little did you know that another loving pupper was watching the whole affair with unidentified jealousy and a fluttering heart.

Gorou had been notified of your mission long before you set out to complete it, being the general. Although he admittedly preferred when the actions assigned to you could be carried out alongside him, or at least within the campgrounds. Being apart was never easy, even when he knew you would return eventually.

Today Gorou had been lucky enough to finish his reports early and decided that his free time may as well have been used to help you with your mission. He had no doubt in your abilities, but Gorou tended to miss you quickly, so you often received a helping hand from the doggy general even when you didn't need one.

Rounding the hill close to the old front, Gorou felt a streak of unease being back in a place where he had fought so viscously, but it was all washed away as soon as he saw you. His tail began to sway as he approached, watching you smile and interact with Tawara. Then he saw it.

Gorou’s left and then right ear twitched in unison with your kisses, his mouth agape and face flushed. You had never kissed his ears before. The general's ears continued to twitch as he imagined your lips touching them, the images in his mind sending another round of fluttering to his heart.

As Gorou stood frozen and red hot at the edge of the field, Tawara eventually noticed him, barking in recognition and bounding over to greet his superior officer. You followed closely behind, equally happy to find that your boyfriend had come to see you.

"Gorou! Done with your work already?" He didn't hear your question until he shook himself from his stupor. "You okay honey? You're all red,"

"Y-yes!" The confusion on your face caused Gorou's pause, his body fidgeting and eyes trying to latch onto something that could ground his thoughts. "I just, umm... do you think I could... no, never mind."

"Gorou," you gently took his cheek in your hand, placing the other on his chest. "We've talked about this; you know I'll never judge you for anything,"

Ears coming to lay on his head Gorou nodded, still blushing wildly as he finally found the courage to make his request.

"Could you... kiss my ears?"

You cooed quietly, heart overflowing with love for your sweet partner but trying not to embarrass him further. Taking his hands in your own, you kiss Gorou's ears twice each, trying not to giggle at the way they twitched each time.

As you brought yourself away, Gorou whimpered faintly, likely not on purpose.

"Come on, let's head back to camp. I have a report to give for this reconnaissance mission, and you have more kisses to gain, perhaps somewhere more private?"

You smiled demurely as Gorou blushed, swiftly nodding his head and following you and Tawara back to the camp with anticipation.

Wanderer

Now renowned scholar ‘Hat Guy’ was currently in class, despite his vehement protests towards attending formal lectures, leaving you alone in the home to tidy up the shared space.

Lesser Lord Kusanali had seen your relationship bloom since the beginning, before even either of you had seen it. She was immensely pleased that the previously misanthropic puppet had grown to love another, and once informed of the official announcement of your relationship, she generously allowed the Wanderer to move from the Sanctuary Surasthana to a home of her choosing close by. It was a quaint and quiet home, but both of you cherished the space. It was a place you could just be together, and need nothing more. Because of this, you took great pride in making sure the home remained a place of respite, and so liked to keep it tidy.

Deciding to start with the laundry, you gathered a basket and went to the bedroom to gather anything in need of washing. Humming a little to yourself, you plucked the pillows off the bed, thinking of washing the cases, when a little thud on the ground came as you lifted your partners pillow.

Curious, you knelt to inspect the thing that had fallen. What was he hiding in his pillow? Kuni certainly wasn’t the type to believe in improving his sleep by hiding trinkets under his head. However, what you discovered made you gasp. On the floor lay the tiny cotton doll resembling Kunikuzushi, its beaded eyes reflecting its obvious displeasure with having taken such a fall.

Tenderly, you took the doll in your hand and stroked its head as you would with Kunikuzushi. Why was it here? You had only ever seen the doll once or twice when Kunikuzushi had readjusted his sleeves or changed shirts, but you knew that he always carried the cotton companion with him. Running your hand gently across the doll, you felt a snag on its back. Turning it over revealed a tear in the seam, a puff of cotton poking out its spine.

“Oh, poor thing,” you muttered, rising slowly while you cradled the doll like a babe. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Collecting a sewing kit from the drawer and sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, you let the doll rest on your lap as you prepared. Gently, as if it could feel your stitching, you mended the fabric. You smiled as you steadily sewed. It made you happy to think you could help Kuni this way, even if he had tried to hide the issue under his pillow.

Kuni has always been private, even with your long-standing relationship it wasn’t easy for him to show such vulnerability. But this doll was his vulnerability, a piece of him he showed almost no one. It was fulfilling to aid it.

Pulling the thread tight, you tied it off and admired your handy work, turning the doll over to greet it again,

“There, all better.” You landed a tender kiss on the top of its head, sealing all your love and care into its plush fabric.

A small choke brought your head up, allowing you to see your partner standing in the doorway, a rare kind of apprehension etched upon him. Your eyes caught each others, astir in stagnant bodies. Kunikuzushi's hand trembled on the doorframe, mouth open as if trying to form words he didn't know.

Through the silence, you lifted a slow hand, extended and opened with a hopeful invitation. The puppet approached, taking your hand and the seat beside you. No words were spoken as you gently lowered his head into your lap, letting his body lie across the bed and his arms wrap around the mended doll. As tears began to shake from Kunikuzushi’s face, you leaned down to press kisses to his head, caressing his hair and allowing him to finally feel the pain and vulnerability that had always ached in the space where his heart should have been.

"Thank you, for daring to love all of me," The shaking whisper stirred the greatest sense of care in your heart.

"You have never deserved anything less,"

The response brought him to sit up, clasping his body around yours as he continued to wring tears into your shoulder.

Perhaps it was not often that Kunikuzushi showed his vulnerability, but you could never stand to mind. Not when these tender moments were so treasured. Besides, you knew well that you would take anything he gave you. You were ready to love it all.