#trash drabble babble

[holylulusworld]

The Captain and his bombshell (1)

Summary: Golden Boy in the streets – the devil in the sheets.

Pairing: Steve Rogers (Post Endgame) x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: angst, fat shaming, bullying, cocky reader, self-confident reader, reader has powers, implied kinky/rough Steve

A/N: A drabble collection of cocky reader & kinky Steve.

The Captain and his bombshell masterlist

A thick skin. That’s your superpower.

That’s your way to ricochet bitchy comments and nasty looks.

You’re a master at ignoring the kind of people wanting to make themselves feel better by treating others like trash.

Not only that. It gave you the power to be a cocky bitch.

Just like now. Some of the women at a bar believe that only because one of them fucked Steve Rogers, one of your team members some weeks ago, they can get bitchy.

“She was staring at him when he walked around shirtless,” the woman spats, looking in your direction. “As if Captain America would ever be interested in that hippo. I don’t even know why she’s one of the Avengers. What’s her superpower? Being fat.”

She’s not wrong, though. After Steve was done with his disappointing encounter with her, he was walking into the kitchen in only his boxer briefs.

You were about to feed the stray Bucky brought home some weeks back when Steve caught your attention.

Your eyes roamed his body, and you decided to save the memory for lonely nights.

Steve never tried to make a move on you. He’s usually shy around you. Maybe the woman is right. Steve would never try to put his hands on you. You’re just not his type.

“It was a case of second-hand embarrassment,” she continues. “I was looking for Stevie and saw her stare at him as if he’s the next cake she wants to wolf down.”

You have heard enough. Usually, your skin is thick enough to ignore nasty comments or stupid babbling coming from women like her. Tonight is different. You’re in the mood to be a bitch.

Slowly stalking toward their table, your head held high and a dark smirk on your crimson lips, you prepare yourself to wipe that grin off her face.

“Well, sweetie,” you coo, and put on your best fake smile, “at least I wouldn’t whine and cry the whole time he’s fucking me because I can’t take it. You see,” you slap your butt with your right hand. “This booty is made for rough treatment.”

“I—what?” She stammers, eyes wide, and her cheeks are on fire. “What are you talking about?”

The other women stare at her, mouth agape. They wait for her reply, but it never comes. Typically. They can only throw punches, but not take a single blow.

“I don’t need super-hearing to know that you didn’t enjoy yourself. I know, I know.” You laugh in her face. “Everyone believes Stevie is all sweet and cuddly. But a super-soldier needs to release some steam sometimes. He likes it rough, just like me. You shouldn't play with fire if you can’t take the heat.”

You turn on your heels and walk off, smiling to yourself as you can hear the women soothe their friend.

Steve is following you around town. After you knocked the woman he slept with some weeks ago down a peg or two, he couldn’t think straight.

You heard him have sex with that squeaky mouse and wished it was you. Why, he has no clue. All the time he knew you, Steve believed you, the bombshell straight out of his wet dreams, could never be into him.

Now he’s confused and horny—unsure about his next step.

Steve only knows one thing. He cannot stay away from you for much longer…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[bloody--prince]

Trouble in paradise - Yandere! Regina Rejection x reader - Drabble - 💔

Reggie knows its mean, maybe even downright cruel, but those tears dripping down your pretty face are just delicious.

Really, he didn't think you'd get this upset over that trash hating you. Poor thing just can't take a hint, over and over you have to learn that not every relationship ends in sunshine and rainbows.

No matter, he'll always be around the corner to bask in the despair.

"My My, you royally screwed that one up, huh? I don't think you could do worse even if you tried, darling."

The scathing glare you give Reggie only makes him condescendingly coo, you're just too cute.

"What's that look for? It's not my fault you have the grace of a bull in a china shop, you broke your own little heart with that one."

He feighns disinterest as you babble out an explanation, examining his nails. Gods, you really were invested this time, weren't you? How foolish. Reggie almost feels bad for the way you seem so broken. Teasing you is just too much fun to resist though.

"You know, the common theme to me here is *you*, sugar. Your mistakes, your fuckups, you're the common denominator when things go wrong." He pouts in an exaggerated manner, batting his lashes at you. "No wonder you end up all alone when the day is finished."

Sweet, sweet misery. The sound of your little sniffles, the way your body trembles as you try to hold back the sobs desperately trying to escape.. oh, he could just eat you up. Devour you, that's more like it.

Reggie almost chuckles at how your breath hitches when he reaches out to delicately wipe your tears, "Can I tell you what the bright side is, puddin'? Me. No matter what, how horrible you are, I'll always be by your side. I'm here now, aren't I?"

He can see the conflict swirling in your eyes, the anger towards him and the burning need for comfort.

"C'mon, you're not going to stick your nose up when I'm trying to be nice, are you? Just let me hold you for a bit, it's not like anyone else will."

(Heart dividers made by the talented @/saradika-graphics)

[wroteclassicaly]

A/N: Inspired by new music I’ve found, and a current convo with the lovely @groubee about Steve’s massively large hands. I bring you this drabble of trash 🖤😘

Warnings: Language, overall NSFW, and vaginal sex.

You try to stay quiet, you really do. But Steve sees your legs spread wide open and then tremble and begin to attempt to clamp closed around him. A flood of cream bubbles out from where you’re joined, spilling onto his balls and down your ass as he slides out and pushes back in, further scattering the mess. You begin to whine against his perspired palm, hot breath ghosting across his flesh. He’s been giving it to you for a solid hour, slowing down enough to keep you both skirting along the edge, but achingly languid enough that you can’t quite touch it.

It all happens so fast, however. Your hands slide down to grip onto the thick meat of his ass, and you push, his hairy thighs pressing deep into your own. Slippery flesh sliding across two bodies united. You propel his thrust forward on your own, biting into the skin of his palm, encouraging him to take you harder. He can’t help but to slap a hand up on the headboard and rock into you, knees pressing into the bed hard enough that it stings.

No longer caring that anyone in your household can hear him taking what belongs to him, he goes with the heightened rhythm and brings himself into a kneeling position, hand leaving your mouth, pulling your legs around his waist, impaling you up and down his cock, your tits bouncing with the force. He throws his head back and bares every pulsating tendon, every freckle and mole, and that hairy chest soaked in sweat.

A loose chestnut tendril drapes across his forehead and you nearly combust. His fingers pinch into the fat of your thighs and he uses them as leverage, his balls slapping against your ass. It all sounds incredibly crude and loud.

“Steve. Oh, fuck.”

He’s babbling, swallowing against a bobbing adam’s apple. “Your fucking pussy, honey. Fuck. I’m gonna come inside it —“

“— Please, yeah, please!” You don’t even know how much sense you’re making, but you let him know what you want, what you need.

And as he falls back over top of you, drawing your legs up impossibly higher, massive cock catching on that spot, slicked curls at his base tickling your clit, he entwines his hands with yours, and he gives everything to you.

// Eat me paragraph //

[euphoricfilter]

um hell yesss, i'm all for an angsty night thought. like imagine yoongi is some hotshot ceo; the money, the flashing lights, the first-class flights and penthouses, it's always been his life. but reader, who happens to be a lot younger than him, always felt as if she just doesn't fit into his world, doesn't belong with his friends or amongst the high society crowds. they look down on her like she's trash, like she's only with yoongi for his money - his sugar baby - without understanding the true depth of their relationship. but at the end of the day, yoongi is rich and reader is just some university student trying to get by. she's gotten it into her head that they just don't work, that yoongi should be with someone in his own league, someone who doesn't bring him embarrassment. like imagine the sad angsty argument about this and then either the breakup or makeup sex afterwards...

okay i’m gonna answer this finally, sorry it took me so long 😭 i thought about actually writing this out but with me having to write drabbles pretty much every day at the moment idk how i’d be able to write a whole fic right now too, sorry 🫂

HOWEVER i love this idea so much 😭 and you have a mega sexy genius brain and if you have ever thought of writing then please go ahead and i will be your first fan because this is so freaking cool

there’s something kinda yummy about age gap aus, especially sexy ceo ones 🏃‍♀️ but also yoongi fits this type of story so well, i can’t explain it… suit wearing, whisky drinking yoongi as a hot ceo

id definitely go with make up sex after because i’m thinking mean dom yoongi who fucks her until she’s babbling. he’d ask her over and over to repeat what she’d said to him, tell him how worthless she really thinks she is, shoving his fingers into her mouth if she can form even the slightest of coherent thoughts

maybe even takes her out shopping for some pretty lingerie before he takes her home and fucks her because as much as he thinks she’s the prettiest little thing in the whole world, he wants her to feel her best before he absolutely ruins her

(super soft aftercare too because it’s yoongi, and he definitely had a huge bath that he washes her in)

[amildartist]

Drabbles of a Witch and Their Weird Baby Creature | Chapter One

Congratulations, it's an Adam

At first glance, the thing looked like a toddler but the eyes were giving it away as something not entirely human. It was dazed, blinking sluggishly and cooing nonsense, and—when you tried to hold it close after digging it out of the trash—it tried to bite you with unnaturally sharp canines. It missed you entirely but it tried again with squinted, unfocused eyes. You decided to tuck it under your arm like a football until you were safely back inside your apartment. Currently, you were watching it from a safe distance and flipping rapidly through your family grimoire. Its bright yellow eyes watched you, an eyebrow quirked up and mouth pressed into an expression you could only describe as superiority.

“Listen,” you muttered, closing the large tome with a swift flick of your wrist, “I don’t know what the fuck you are but—”

It scoffed.

“—But you are not going to eat me.”

Another eyebrow raised. It rolled its eyes, a babbling vocal wobble suggesting it was trying to laugh at you. You glared at it. It glared back. “You’re also not eating my magic,” you continued bitterly. It looked like a magic-eater in the vaguest sense, you thought, but the shape was wrong and this creature actually had a face. And hair. It lost the glare and—for a brief moment—you see a flicker of uncertainty cross its eyes, its chubby hand curled into a weak fist. Then the moment is over and its lips quirk up into a cattish grin.

You stood there for a while, your eyes falling over it. It had pale brown hair, yellow eyes, and wore an oversized thing with a bold A on the front. It was only because you were watching the creature so closely that you finally noticed the quiver. Starting from the corner of its lips, to the shoulders, to the arms, and ending with its fingers currently gripping the couch you plopped it on. Against your best judgment, your eyes softened and you kneeled in front of it. It watched you just as closely as you were watching it. “It’s…” you hesitate for a moment, “it’s alright to be scared. You don’t know where you are, right? And I guess I might look like a giant to you, but I promise I’m not going to—”

Its small hand flew at your face and bounced harmlessly off your forehead. Its eyebrows furrowed before it kicked out with an equally weak (and short) leg at your chest. “Hey! It’s alright.” You held out your hands, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. It froze, panting and wild-eyed, shaking like a leaf in the wind. You couldn’t tell if it was because of fear or if it was from the effort of trying to hurt you. Could be both, you thought. There was a slight hint of guilt bubbling inside of your chest. You sure as hell wasn’t being very gentle with it, after all. “Hey,” you tried again while the creature caught its breath, “I’m seriously not going to hurt you. There’s nothing to be afraid about.” You reached out to it slowly, your fingers brushing against its hair in an awkward attempt to comfort it. It flinched, its eyes suddenly gaining a calculating light. Before you could pull away, it abruptly opened its mouth and latched onto your palm, a stuttering growl emanating from it.

“Fuck!” You shook your hand instinctively and it became a blur of muddied colors, its jaw tightly clenched like some sort of weird human-shark-dog. Its teeth were embedded inside of you and—fuck!—it stung. What did your aunt do when she was attacked by that dog? Something, something, jaw leverage. Your free hand squished its cheeks, managing a small amount of relief when the pressure forced its mouth open. “Let go,” your voice came out a lot calmer than you currently felt. It glared, bit down as hard as it could with your fingers digging into its cheeks, and shook its head. A fucking rabid animal. You picked up a fucking rabid animal. Your sharp, weepy groan inspired it to shake again. Tears forming in your eyes—and blood now seeping between your fingers—you shook your arm one more time and flung it back and forth as quickly as you were able to. Just to disorient it long enough.

“When you wake up, you better be calm.” It looked up at you with a furrowed brow. You snapped the fingers of your free hand, multi-colored sparkles coated it in a cloud of fine dust. It sunk deep into its skin. Yellow eyes widened, flickering back and forth between your face and your free hand, before they wavered and finally—finally—slipped closed. Its jaw took longer to release you. Trembling as though, even in sleep, the thing wanted to attack you. Sleep finally claimed it.

It fell face-first forward against your chest. Your face twisted into a grimace. “Of course, you drool, you fucking weird gremlin creature.” You patted its back and you quickly discovered it also growls in its sleep.

NEXT

[mochikage]

avoiding him | kuroo t.

The door to the study room opens, and you sigh in relief when you notice no one has booked it yet. You take a seat in the chair facing away from the window and the door so that any passing people wouldn’t immediately recognize you. This past week you have been hiding out in the study room to avoid any common areas Kuroo could find you in. 

You knew he was looking for you, and you knew that you should say something instead of ghosting him completely. But were you ready to confess your feelings to your science tutor? No. 

Kenma has even reached out to you to tell you that what you’re doing is wrong. He hasn’t figured out why you’ve been avoiding his best friend, but he knows it’s probably a stupid reason. It was. It wouldn’t take Kenma much longer to put two and two together, but whether or not he would do something about it was not a risk you were willing to take. You take out your phone and look at his most recent text. 

kenny ken: don’t hate me but kuroo is on his way 

Confused, you look around for Kenma in the library. When you see no sign of him, you decide to text him back. 

y/n: on his way where?

kenny ken: to the library 

Panicked, you look around once more. Was he playing games with you? You start to pack your lunch back up in the case that he wasn’t. You weren’t ready to face Kuroo, not yet at least. You grab the strap of your backpack and swing it over your shoulder before turning around. 

“Shh!” Kuroo’s hand is placed over your mouth before you could let out a scream. If he wasn’t annoyed with you, he would find your wide eyes endearing and relish in the attention you were finally giving him. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” He kicks the study room door closed and raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking you if you were okay not to scream. You nod slowly, your heart hammering in your chest both from his proximity and from the scare he gave you. 

“How did you-”

“It’s the only place I haven’t looked in all week.” He sets his hands on his hips and looks at you expectantly. 

You try to stay silent and act innocent, as if you haven’t been avoiding him in every sense of the word. 

“Can I help you?” You quietly ask before looking down at your feet. 

“Yeah, were you going to tell me what I did?” A frown is tugging at his lips and the guilt is starting to eat at your soul. When you don’t say anything, he crosses his arms and decides to tease you more, hoping to get some information from you. 

“So what? You finally get a good grade in a science exam and suddenly I’m not needed anymore?” You look up at him to deny his claim but end up closing your mouth. Actions speak louder than words, don’t they? Even if you denied him, your behavior the last week was not exactly helping your case. 

You get a good look at him. It’s the first time you’re actually this close to him and you can see his hair is more disheveled than usual and there are some bags under his eyes. He looks tired, and the annoyed look he’s giving you is not making you any less worried for this conversation. 

“It’s not that, Kuroo-”

“Kuroo?” His eyebrows shoot up and his lips quirk up in a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “We’re on a last name basis now?”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You can either force a confession to him and ruin your friendship or completely lie to him...and ruin your friendship. 

Kuroo mistakes your silence for you not wanting to talk to him at all. He can’t help but let his shoulders drop. His heart feels heavy with his next words. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I just enjoyed hanging out with you and I thought that maybe after our tutor sessions we could keep...I don’t know.” He let’s out a sigh and puts on a fake smile, “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He’s turning on his feet and you grab onto his hand before he can go out. You wish he would finish that sentence, but the ball in your court now and it’s your only chance to score. Now or never. 

“Wait.” You finally find your voice but when he turns around and give you a hopeful look, you’re feeling shy again. You clear your throat and decide to just spit it out. “I like you. A lot. And I was avoiding you because I didn’t want to make things weird or ruin anything that we had going -”

Before you know it, his lips are pressed against yours. It’s a brief kiss, but one that brings butterflies to your stomach. He’s pulling away far too soon for your liking and he can only chuckle when he notices you standing on your tip toes to chase after him. Both of your faces are red as your school ties. 

“Maybe you can be Oxygen, I can be Utahium, and together we could go OUt.” 

...

You’re still dazed from his kiss and he thinks that maybe he overstepped the science jokes too much.

“If you say yes, I promise no science jokes on our date.” He raises his hand up as if to emphasize the promise. You let out a laugh at his stupid cuteness.

“No science jokes? How will we know if we have chemistry?”

Yeah, he’s planning out a year’s worth of dates with you. 

(iwaizumi). 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Limit

Sequel to Stress Relief, Right Through Me, Waiting, Honey I’m Home, Won’t Give Up, Midnight, and Dinner Time

Warnings: noncon, housewife kink, fear, mommy kink, lactation kink, postpartum depression, abuse/spanking.

Even though it’s a drabble, I do appreciate any comments and feedback you have. Thanks for reading!

👗👗👗

The baby screams as you push the mop across the floor. You ignore her as you continue to sop up the mildew and cleaner. You can’t let Clark see the mess. Not again.

The wailing continues but you focus on the task. You don’t want her touching you, grabbing at your chest, wanting the only thing she cares about. She didn’t want your love, not your warmth, nothing but food, food, food. You’re a cow to her, just like you are to her father.

You squeeze out the dirty water with the plastic lever and slap the sponge back to the tile. A red glow suddenly tinges the wall and darkens your shadow before you. You turn as Clark stands with his chiseled jaw locked and watches you.

“She’s crying,” he snarls as his eyes beam a hot crimson.

“Sorry, I was trying to get this all cleaned up–”

“She needs her mommy and you’re out here with the mop?”

“Honey, I was just finishing up but I was going to–”

“Go, deal with her,” he slams his bag on the counter and huffs.

“Yes, Clark,” you dip your head down and lean the mop in the bucket, “sorry.”

“You will be. Get her what she needs, then I get mine.”

You don’t need any other orders. You know what he expects. It’s not the first time and will hardly be the last. Yesterday, the chicken wasn’t cooked through. The day before, you forgot to tie up the trash as you left it by the door to be taken out. And Monday, Martha’s diaper was wet.

You enter the bedroom and take her from the crib. You lift her and cradle her. She’s a few months now, bigger and even more hungry. You check her nappy, it’s dry. You go to the glider and sit as you pull down the top of your dress and unhook your nursing bra. She’s quick to latch and you grunt at the twinge that comes from her tugging suckle.

She drinks until it leaks down her chin and you detach her, burping her until she’s calm. You get up and place her back in the crib with her stuffed hippo. She’s content, for now.

You go to the bedroom. The shower’s whining through the open door, steam wisping out. You quickly undress and wipe up the leakage around your nipples. You listen to the water slaking down naked skin and get on the bed. You tuck your knees under as the tenders bruises across your ass tingle. Each night, there’s more.

He emerges and you keep your face away from him as he moves around. He tuts as he goes to the dress, his ass flexing as he stops, the thick muscles of his thigh bulging with each step. You shiver and your fear peaks. 

No, you don’t feel, you can’t.

“Since it’s not getting through to you,” he turns and stretches his fingers, a reminder of the spankings still needling at your skin from nights before, “honey, I really didn’t want this.”

He pulls out a belt and examines the thick leather. He folds it in half and snaps it against his palm. You hear a babble, the baby making noises that will soon grow to more cries, to that intolerable blare.

“Stay,” he warns as he comes towards the bed, “this will be the last time you learn this lesson.”

[gukguktae]

Jungkook (A Tolerable Wedding)

Read at your own risk, pleaZe! This is an 'imagine' use your imaginations. Don't get offended if I didn't perceived your perception because again that's your perception. Happy humping reading! 🥵

Word count: this time, i know. 2.4k 😎

Genre: smut... that's it and au!

Warnings: protected s*x, mention of alcohol, vape pen, cursing, bigdicc!JeonJK

🔞

a/n: I really love the mother and daughter rs in this one. I have the same one with my mom minus the knowing who I fucked part. I hope you enjoy and I apologize if I don't put warnings in my imagines, in my defense adding "smut" in genre should be enough (be responsible, if you're not 18 DO NOT READ, if you get offended STOP READING) and plus the titles kind of gives it away anyway. 🤷‍♀️ I'll release a series once I completed OT7 short imagines/drabbles

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

The event’s host called out the newlyweds, cheering began as they dance their way to the reception. You’re happy for your brother, Namjoon and his partner. However, the ceremony really fucked you up, you got bored and now you don’t know what else to do other than to finished half of the bar display, you’re sure that everyone in your family will ask you if you’re next. The answer you got in mind is just one thing, “Fuck no.”

You mother nudge you with wide eyes, “At least clap!”

Rolling your eyes and clapping slowly to humor your Mom. You’re really far from getting married, as in men-are-trash-fuck-them-imma-stay-single kind of far. Every man you’ve ever met is either jerks or can’t make you orga- “Hey!” Your mom once again interrupted your thoughts. “He has potential, right?”

“Who?” You followed her gaze, gesturing over the best man, you would be lying of you say that you haven’t notice him. He’s actually the only one that made the ceremony a little tolerable, he made other groom’s men look basic, which are your cousins and Joon’s other friend.

His silver hair that parted in the middle, earrings and piercings made him stand out. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, there were times that he notices you ogling at the ceremony, but the moment he winked at you- it was over. You can’t stand cocky men that they think they can get all the girls, but in his case you just know he can. Because that wink made you shiver.

“Well, if you’re going to stare, I’ll take that as a yes.” Your Mom pushes you, “Go say hi.”

You stare at your mom baffled, “Did you just give me away?”

“Yes, now go.”

“I’m not gonna say hi to him! You go say hi!” You shove your mother and she was not amused. “See, doesn’t feel good does it?”

Every one calms down when the couple reached the stage, the emcee babble something about love and all those bullshit. Thank God that the server came and distributes glasses of champagnes, you took two and your action earns a glare from your mother.

“What? You raised me like this, deal with it.” You chug on one glass and she did the same. Having close and loving relationship with your mother and still you’re an alcoholic by a whisker, your therapist is confused too.

“Hey!” You’re mother stood up to greet your aunt, “Thank you so much for coming, was it a long flight?”

“Oh, no! Anything for Joon.” She looks down on you, who are half on finishing the 2ndglass. “Y/n! You look pretty darling!” You smiled and wipe your lips before hugging her. “When are you going to get married?” Just straight to the point, she didn’t even ask if you have a boyfriend.

“Fu-“ Your Mom interrupted with another question, not knowing if she did that because she knows you have a foul mouth or because you don’t have anyone in your life. Either way you took offense. The waiter came back and you grab another glass.

“Keep going this way.”

It was only half the program and you already feel dizzy, since they’re only showing cringe videos of the couple it gave you a chance to roam around and find a spot where you can use your vape pen, that’s been lodge in your breast all day. Somehow you ended up in a veranda just a hallway down where the stage is. You could still hear the function, but it’s muffled. Bending down and placing your elbow in the railings for comfort and support.

Feeling the cold air hits your face and arms made you shiver, pulling the device on your chest and taking a long drag. Slowly breathing out the smoke, you could already feel your nerves calming down. You heard someone clear their throat to make their presence noticed.

He lean his ass against the metal banister a few feet away from you, staring- waiting for his next move, but nothing. He’s just there with his arms crossed, staring at his shoes. As far as you can remember his suit fits him perfectly, why does his biceps showing? Is he flexing? And that fucking ass can’t be that perky for someone-

“Are you gonna eye fuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?” It took your brains several minutes to process what came out from his lips, which is in a form of a smirk followed by nibbling on his lip piercing. It’s too dark where you’re standing, so it’s impossible for him to see how you blush.

Trying not to get fazed, you snigger enough for him to hear. You straighten bringing your gaze at the dark garden, “I will if you say please.” Turning to lean your back and crossed your arms. His arrogance shouldn’t work on you, it shouldn’t. However he’s taking too much space in this open area and you can’t stop yourself to get suck in.

He fixes his cuff and drag his feet to you, “I don’t beg.”

“It’s nice meeting you, then.” Nodding, about to head off, but he took your wrist.

He swallows, managing his desperation to know you and talk to you. Jungkook can’t even lie to himself, he wanted to talk to you since this morning, he’s attracted to you as much. And he knows that you’ve been staring at him all day, the wink that he sent you says everything. He’s also staring, ogling during the ceremony. However he’s too nervous to approach and your mother is always beside you, so he never got the chance. The moment he saw you step out, he practically rush to follow you, seeing his only chance.

“Please.”

That made you smile. Did he fold? Matter of fact he did. He didn’t waste any time after seeing you smile, he places both of his hand on your cheeks and smash his lips on yours. His warm lips and cold piercings made you thirsty to kiss back, you stumble thankfully your hands caught the railings, his strong arms that immediately wrap around your waist to secure you. His tongue parted your lips, you could taste the strawberry and chocolate that he’s been munching all night.

Rolling your tongue that made him grunt and you swallowing his moans, his hand travels to the back of your head and push on lightly to deepen the kiss. Both of you separated and coughs lightly when you heard footsteps. “Sorry, where’s the comfort room?” An elderly woman asked confused.

“It’s inside, beside the stage.” Jungkook answered with a smile. He made that up, you’ve been in this place before and you know that the bathroom is outside to the left before you enter the place. That poor woman, she already left before you could even correct him.

“You know you just lied to her.” He sucked on his piercing and scratching his nape, you understand why he did that. It did annoy you too that someone interrupted that mind-blowing kiss that you’ve had in a really long time. You look around, “There’s gotta be some place to fuck around here.”

Jungkook smiled before taking your hand, “I know where.” He took you to a storage room, just behind where the stage at. It’s almost empty, but there’s a few chair, folded tables and shelves. The small room fits the both of you perfectly with a little room to move around.

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” You blast before closing the door.

The room went dark.

He shakes his head, “They won’t if you keep quiet.” You thought for a moment then nodded, because you can be quiet, you think. “I’ll be gentle I promise”

“Fuck gentle, I want it rough.” You trailed off, “but don’t leave marks.”

This time you’re the one who smash your lips on his, it caught him of guard, but he was quick to run his hands through your dress. Cupping your breast and massaging, untying his tie and unbuttoning a few. You moan when you felt how hard and well sculpted his pecks are. Fuck, he’s hot.

He pulls down on your dress, which exposed your breast that bounces a little. That sweet heart neckline is really a good choice, it’s an easy access.

“Remind me to thank Joon-hyung for making you wear this dress” He uttered before burying himself on your rack.

“Ew, don’t mention my brother” You wince.

Jungkook’s apology is muffled as he suck on your harden nipples. You pull your head back trying not to cry in pleasure. Grabbing Jungkook’s chin, your nipples caught between his teeth before he lets go, connecting on your lips as you try to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants.

“Eager?”

“You have no idea.” Slipping your hand in, his semi hard cock twitches and it grows more in your hand. “Fuck, you’re huge. I thought I have to pretend.” You joked that made him chuckled in low, the dark room is only illuminated by the gaps from the door. You can’t admire his rod with sight, so you used touch.

He really doesn’t have any idea how eager you feel right now, if you could just shove this dick up your pussy right now? you would. The last time you had action was 4 months ago and your vibrator starting to feel like your soul mate. So you’re not going to act prude and pass up on this kind of opportunity, fuck your beliefs, you can believe in them again later.

“Wait, do you have..”

“Yeah, here.” Jungkook rips the packet and roles the rubber on his length, does he always has condoms with him?

“Wow, you must be expecting sex all the time?” He answered in awkward chuckles, but you didn’t care just thanking his preparedness.

Jungkook bundles your skirt before hooking his fingers on your thong to pull it down, dumping the soaked cloth to the ground. “Fuck that’s wet.” He hisses on your neck just as he rubs on your pussy, spreading the juices all over.

Holding on for balance on his biceps when he pushes you up, the content of the shelves drops to the ground. Both of you stopped while feeling the atmosphere, the party didn’t seem to bother the loud crashes so he continued. Strong arm held your legs against his torso, while his other hand places his cock between your slit.

“Fuck!” You cried as you felt your entrance stretch for his tip, he slowly pushes more inches in. Clenching your slippery walls on his throbbing dick made both of you whimper from pleasure. “Holy shit.” Fuck.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Jungkook croak, “This pussy squeezing me so goooood!” He drags the last words in moan.

Grabbing his neck to get closer so you can slide your tongue on his, giving your full weight on his arms which didn’t have an effect on him. With those large muscles, he could lift a fucking car without breaking a sweat. He started to move you up and down, you help him by bouncing. Both of you swallowing each other’s breath and moan and grunts.

Hearing a squelching sound over the faint laughter and enjoyment of the wedding reception, but you didn’t care about that. Only focuses on Jungkook’s dick and lips on yours, and your orgasm that you feel coming. The familiar knot in your stomach that you haven’t felt in so long in someone’s dick made you groan a little loud. Dipping your forehead on his, “I’m fucking coming.” Whimpering through your gritted teeth.

Jungkook’s arrogant cackle before he fastens his momentum, “Fuck.” Growling in unison. You felt yourself pulsate as he continues to fuck your pussy over and over and over. Burying your face on his neck to stop you from screaming, waves of pleasures continues.

Slamming his cock inside you, it was getting harder not to scream in pleasure and pain. More unidentified things drops to the ground, none of you cared. He bites on your shoulders as he pounds in and out of you, "Fuck, I'm coming too."

His grips on your thighs became more strained, short breaths came out from his lips and moans of curses, he achieves orgasms. Cock twitching for every spurt of hot cum, he shivers as he thrust one more time. Before pulling out and setting you down, managing to stand- balance on your shaking legs. Stumbling and accidentally turning the lights on, both of you squints from the sudden brightness. He already tied the condom, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and enveloping the filled rubber. You fixed your exposed chest, tucking the girls back in place. You were about to bent down to take your panties off the ground when Jungkook swoops in.

“I'm keeping this.” He already shoved the garment in his pocket before you could protest.

“Now let us hear what the best man has to say to the newlyweds.” Jungkook stiffens hearing his que. “Best man? Where’s the best man? Is he still here?”

“Shit.” He fixes his buttons before, busting out the door “Gotta go!”

You muttered a curse word as well because you’re close in giving a speech. You ran your hands through your hair and doubled checking your dress for any trace of sin you just committed before following Jungkook in an unsuspicious distance.

“I’m here! I’m here! Sorry!” You heard him shouts from the other side of the room.

You sat beside your mother, “Where have you been?” Shrugging, she wasn’t really interested, barely even noticed your gone.

You watch Jungkook grab the microphone. “Good evening everyone. I’m Jeon Jungkook, the best man…” Huh, his name must be Jungkook that would’ve been fun to moan.

His gray hair is a little disheveled, crooked tie and a missed button made you chuckle.

You mother eyed you, “Who is he fooling with those smile? He clearly just had sex.”

“Mom!” Your eyes widen, it’s like you were the one she figured out.

“What? Just stating the obvious.” She brings her look back at him, “What is that red thing on his pockets?”

Just like that the blood in your body drained. You know what that is, no one can miss those crimson red panties that barely hangs in his neutral suit. “Oh, Jesus!” Covering your mouth as you stare at his pants, that now you notice half opened fly.

Your mother’s eyes widen as he realizes. “Y/N! You did not!” Pursing your lips before nodding, “I only asked you to say hi!” The horrified face in your Mom with a subtle hint of amusement made you shrug.

“I did!" Kind of. "You didn’t ask me not to fuck him.” You argued.

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

BTS masterlist

[cheesus-doodles]

Good morning/evening/night , can i request for best friend Baji react of reader being bullied by their classmates? Please feel free ignore if you want to , i hope you have a great day!

heya ms-rosie! sorry it took so long to get round to your ask TuT decided to answer this with some hcs and a short drabble as part of our Baji celebration bonzana! hope you enjoy! happy birthday again to Baji!! 💕💕

‎

Recommended Readings: ‎Yandere Bestfriend Baji HCs ;

Masterlist

tw: yandere, violence

‎

Bullied with Yandere Bestfriend Baji HCs

you probably tried to hide it from your bestfriend for as long as you could tolerate it

probably already knew for a while that you were the one weakness that Baji's enemies could exploit to get to him, and you didn't want to be his weak link forever

especially he was the founder of one of them up and coming gangs in Tokyo - a lot of rivals looking for opportunities to get their claws into him as soon as possible

so it was natural that looking at the mountain of strength that Baji was, you wanted to try standing up for yourself to - if he could do it, why not you right?

but that was exactly the way that Baji doesn't want you to think

your bestfriend wants you to rely on him, just like he relies on you - you relying on him for his strength and protection, and he relying on you for the affection and care

its always been the two of you against the world after all

he finds out when you finally cave to the bullies one day, he running into your room babbling about being late for homeroom, only to find you huddled in the corner crying into your knees, refusing to go to school

his heart just sank all the way to his feet in that instant, and he was all over you in a second - fussing and panicking over you crying

were you hurt? were you dying? did something happen?

and then you started to spill about the bullies in school, your own classmates, who taunted you about how you looked, about how weak you were, about how you didn't have the spine to stand up for yourself without Baji there

and the worst taunt of all, that you weren't fit to be friends with the Toman First Division Captain, and that losing you would in fact make him stronger

muttering about how maybe they were right only lit a fire in his chest, and he immediately pulls you into a giant bear hug, pressing your face into his chest, the same kind that only your bestfriend was able to give

stroking the back of your head, softly running his fingers through your hair, Baji assures you, swears to you, that you were the only one fit to be his bestfriend, that he would trust no one else by his side

your sniffles die down pretty quickly, but it was clear to him from just a look that you aren't in any condition for classes

inside, he was absolutely fucking furious, not at you, but the trash that dared consider it was a good idea to even look at you wrong, let alone bully you

master of face schooling by now, so none of his anger shows on his face - doesn't want to scare you by accident

as much as Baji would love to go straight to school and beat the living daylight out of the garbage that dared to bully you, he knew that that wouldn't be possible without him getting into some real trouble

so the only thing he could do at the moment is to skip school with you for the day, instead spending time making you feel better - going to your favourite cafes, binging on desserts, taking you to play arcade games

all the while, his mind was churning away on the best way to get his revenge on your bullies, on your behalf of course

finds out who the bullies are through gentle probing of you, and of course intimidating the information out of mutuals and your other classmates

a flash of his fist or a wrath-filled look is usually enough to get them to spill, but he has no qualms resorting to threats and simple slaps to get what he wants

armed with a complete ordered list of your bullies and how much of a threat they were to you, Baji next turn to thinking about how to actually deal with them

he knew you didn't like him fighting, didn't like him seeing crush insects under his fist like they should be, didn't like seeing his hands and uniform covered in dirty blood

so Baji already took that into consideration, how to work in the shadows and take care of this little problem while keeping you unaware

first thing he does is bring the rest of the Toman founders into this, and brainstorm together what the best course of action is for him to take - the rest of the group with just one look at his shaking fists already know that there was no way to avoid a curb stomp, especially since it involved you getting hurt

so help Baji they do, with Kazutora and Draken being the two to suggest making your bullies untrustworthy, then using your phone to lure them to a alleyway in Toman territory where Toman could keep an eye out for him while he handled his work

spreading rumours about their bullying, telling others about what he had heard they did, about their personal life

whether it be lie or truth, nothing mattered to him, as long as your bullies started to be disliked, to be hated, to be isolated

before long, no one trusted what they said, nor wanted to get close to them

you had to endure a few more days of them raining insults and blows at you, in their eyes being the main suspect of the rumours circulating around

Baji was at your side as much as he could to deter them, but they still managed to get a few in despite his best efforts, which only added fuel to his already burning wrath

he couldn't say for sure that he didn't like drying your tears and having you come to him for comfort though, but the pain you were going through had to stop

but at least now he could move to the next step

picking a good time was definitely the most important thing, as Baji needed to make sure that you were well distracted and don't come looking for him

settled on after school on one of the days that you have extra remedial classes

now that the bait has been set, all that's left is to spring the trap

"You absolute scum." His boot came down hard and fast, and Baji couldn't say that it wasn't satisfactory to feel the bones in the hand underneath give way, the blood-curling cry that rose from the garbage under his foot lost in the draft that blew through the narrow backstreet. "How fucking dare you."

How dared they pick on you, a small fragile individual that couldn't hurt a fly, unable to fight someone their own size. How dare they hurt his bestfriend. How dare they. Battered and bruised bodies scattered the rest of the otherwise deserted lane, a far cry from the state they had been in when they first sauntered into the alley where you had challenged your bullies to meet, only to walk face-first into a one man ambush.

Or rather, they had thought it was you who issued the challenge, the taunt, after all, having definitely been sent from your number. All Baji had needed was to ask to borrow your phone and a split second distraction, and the lure sent out to multiple numbers was wiped clean the moment it went through. You had been brave, he knew, and you had tolerated enough, far more than was suitable for your fragile self. It was time for your bestfriend to step up, and step up Baji did, raining blow after blow in a flash of punches and kicks.

Left barely conscious and unable to run after their first trashing, the Toman First Division Captain now turned to dealing with each of them one-on-one, picking his way through the various members of the little group, and settling matters starting with your biggest threat. The back of familiar black uniforms turned to him from both ends of the alleyway was reassuring, knowing that he could work in peace with his friends watching his back.

Yet nothing he did seemed enough - what they were going through was nothing compared to your anguish, the pain that they must have put you through. With the only thought running through his brain being that they needed to pay, and they needed to pay dearly, one more crunch, another scream that echoed between the high, narrow brick walls, and his fist came down again and again.

They would pay with their blood.

[potatoes-is-are-food]

hello hello! ever since your period shigaraki drabble that sparked my entire period kink, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about feral horny shig who loves how gross it is, loves how embarrassed you look, just loves the whole messy ordeal hhhhh <33 -bakatenshii

Funny you should mention that I actually have another little project in the works that may or may not involve vampire shiggy and some period stuff…

Warnings: period blood (obviously), tampon removal, shiggy being gross, dubcon kind of?

You struggled, trying to keep your pants up as Shigaraki intently tried to force them off. He’d put on gloves to avoid accidentally dusting you but he was now cursing that decision since it would be easier to just decay them off. You writhed under him, easily pinned but still trying to get away.

“Shiggy please just-”

“No,” he pinned your torso against the bed you shared with his leg, using his body weight to keep you there while he finally tugged your pants off and threw them across the room. Your panties followed immediately after, joining the other laundry in the floor you hadn’t gotten up yet. His thumb pulled your folds apart, red eyes widening gleefully at the sight of your extra sensitive cunt.

“Every time it’s bleeding I have to remind you this is my pussy,” he grumbled, surprisingly gently pulling your tampon string until the cotton slipped out, drenched in blood and attached to your skin with wet strings. He threw it in the trash beside the bed while you panted under him, clenching your eyes shut in embarrassment despite the number of times he’d done this.

He lifted his leg off you, settling between your legs as you tried to keep the squirming to a minimum, still mortified knowing he was examining you so closely. He licked his lips, forcing your legs further apart as he kissed up your thigh, hot breaths teasing your bloody slit. You didn’t want to watch, but you couldn’t look away as his tongue dragged along his lip excitedly, manic red eyes piercing yours for a moment before he closed them softly, sighing before lightly flicking his tongue against your folds.

He lapped at you slowly at first, taking his time spreading blood and your arousal up along your skin and swirling it around your clit. Your head fell back against the mattress as you sighed, earning a harsh slap to your thigh when you didn’t hold still enough for him. His arms held your thighs still as he got rougher, the scarred, textured skin of his lips dragging along your skin.

His tongue wriggled past your entrance, lewd sucking noises sounding throughout the room as he devoured you. Blood and slick smeared across his face and along your thighs, dripping onto the bed as you tugged at his hair, trying to get him to ease up a little. His response to that was to bury himself deeper, slurping obscenely as your head fell back and your hips involuntarily bucked against his face. You could almost feel the grin that spread over his face as you submit, letting his tongue work you closer to orgasm.

You moaned, face burning with embarrassment as you came on his tongue. He licked and sucked at your skin until you begged him to stop, tears spilling from your eyes as he overstimulated you. When he finally pulled away, you didn’t get time to rest, immediately being impaled on his cock as he kissed you, blood and other fluids tainting it. He was a bit gentler than usual, knowing from experience it would hurt if he went as hard as usual.

“You’re so wet, y/n” he panted, kissing along your jaw and neck and further dirtying you with your own blood, “Admit it, you like this. You like when your creepy boyfriend plays with your bloody cunt,” he cooed in your ear, fingers trailing down between your bodies to toy with your clit. You clung to him, groaning as he ruined you.

“I like it,” you whined, “Tomura.” Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as his hips slowed and then stopped, making you writhe to get him to just move again.

“Say you’re mine,” he ordered, pulling out tortuously slowly and pressing back in at the same speed until his tip kissed your cervix. You sobbed, digging your heels into his back to make him go deeper.

“I’m yours,” you cried, “I love you, I love this, all of me is yours,” you babbled, desperate for more friction. He finally gave it, fingers still rolling your clit as he kissed you again.

Your nails clawed down his back, whimpers and broken sobs of his name falling from your lips like it was all you knew how to say. You kissed at his face when you could, settling for whining into his shoulder when his head dipped so he could suck and kiss at your neck and chest. He mumbled and groaned “I love you” and “mine” into your skin and then bit down as his hips snapped against you harder and faster. You could tell he was close, his long fingers abusing your bead of nerves frantically as his pace faltered.

He bit hard into your neck when he came, humping shallowly as he released deep inside, groaning when the friction from his pubic hair on your clit made you finish too. Your clenching around him prolonged his orgasm, draining him of every drop of his milky cum until he collapsed on top of you, finally pulling his teeth out of your skin where he’d nearly broken it. You twitched limply under him, arms loosely wrapped around him as your legs flopped back onto the bed.

When he went to pull away you tightened your grip, keeping him inside and hugging him. He groaned, kissing your neck a few more times before finally you let go, both of you wincing when he pulled out. You were too out of it to care when he reached for his phone, quickly snapping a picture of your bloody hole leaking his cum. He gave it one more lick, swiping his tongue up to cover your whole pussy in the mixture of your fluids and then watching it twitch for a moment before going to turn on the shower.

[1kook]

commercial break ; ONE

a netflix & chill drabble  this follows directly after disney+ and bust !

summary; Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same. warnings; none unless u count yn bullying him as one miscellaneous; yn is regina george thats it word count; 1.3k

notes; u guys may be like “u feed us so well!” wrong i obsessively post bc I'm never satisfied with my work, like in d&b i really disliked the lack of resolution so here i am writing one the day after god bless lmk what u think xxxx

Because Jungkook is Jungkook and cannot go three minutes without profusely professing his feelings to you, the apology gets old real quick.

“I’m sorry, y’know,” he says in the middle of dinner, idly picking at his plate. It’s Chinese tonight, sprawled across the kitchen counter that overlooks your living room. The Bee Movie is playing on TV, a movie you hadn’t seen in years yet still managed to put a smile on your face. But you know what wasn’t putting a smile on your face? Jungkook ruining this movie experience with his fourth apology of the night.

You nod through a mouthful of rice, eyes zeroed in on the screen. “Uh huh,” you hum, foot idly bumping against the leg of your chair every few seconds. “That’s great, honey.”

He sighs. “I’m being serious,” he stresses. “I think, maybe you should like…” a long pause you use to shovel more food into your mouth while the bees on screen go to human court. It was a wild ride. Were they on crack when they pitched this idea? You would have been. “Punch me in the face or something,” he offers after a moment.

You quirk a brow in his direction, finally abandoning the film on screen in favor of turning to face him. “You want me to use you as a punching bag to help you get over your hurt feelings that you developed from being an asshole to me.” Jungkook nods. You shrug. “Okay.”

“Wait, really?” he says, face paling as you roll your shoulder around. “You’re gonna hit me? Like for real?” You raise your brows, as if that’s obviously what you’re going to do.

“Well, you asked for it,” you respond, giving your wrist one final flick before rearing it back. His eyes flutter shut tightly, pouty lips pursed together in a thin line. Your fist comes barreling, ripping through the air in an insane, Fortune 500-like speed, and then—

“No,” Jungkook groans, touching the spot where you lightly flicked his forehead. His bangs saved him from most of the impact, but even without it, it was barely more than a teasing poke of your finger against his skin. “You need to like, beat me up.”

You snort, turning your attention back to the screen. “You know, you’re beginning to sound a lot like me these days, Jungkookie,” you point out, fork scraping across the plate. Jungkook sighs, dropping his head onto the countertop in defeat. “Very childish.”

He lightly bangs his head across the faux marble, a strained whimper filling the air and ruining The Bee Movie. “Which is why you need to hit me or something, I don’t know. Make me pay for how horrible I was to you the other day.”

“I’m not gonna hit you,” you say, “because that would mean the next time you get mad at me, you’d hit me.”

“I would never!” he exclaims, eyes wide and round. Gone was the perfectly put together Jungkook, in was this sloppy mess of emotions. “Besides,” he says softly, cheeks a warm rosy color as he goes back to picking at his food, “you’d never wrong me like I did you.”

You hum, toying with the fork in your mouth. “Really,” you murmur, dropping the fork back on the table. You place your chin in your palm, lazily watching the movie now that you’ve missed a pivotal scene because Jungkook wanted you to beat him up. “I used your toothbrush the other day,” you mention.

Silence.

“You what?” he squawks indignantly. You glance at him from your peripherals. There’s an obvious expression of disgust on his features, eyes flickering from side to side as he digests this information. “Babe—that’s, that’s actually really…” He can’t even finish his sentence, mouth opening and closing as he finally seems to process the fact your mouth germs were on his beloved toothbrush.

“Yup,” you add. “Hope you don’t mind,” you babble on, “well, I mean, you really shouldn’t.” You glance at him, the mean streak in you crooning loudly in your ear the more and more uncomfortable he grows. “Considering you’re always spitting in my mouth.”

As wild as you and Jungkook liked to get in bed, what happened in bed mostly stayed in bed. It sounds gross to say it aloud, but he really has just been casually spitting in your mouth for the past few months. He was a dirty boy, and that fact makes him squirm.

“No, that’s different,” he frowns, obviously distraught by the valid point you bring to the table. “My toothbrush is my toothbrush.”

“I know,” you agree, nudging his foot teasingly. “Should I tell you about all the other mean stuff I do to your things that I never say sorry for?” He turns those frantic eyes on you.

“You’re lying,” he says, though there’s a question embedded within. You tilt your head to the side, as if to say, am I?.

When he doesn’t say anything more, you jump into a full novel recapture of every mean thing you’ve done and why. “And one time I was so pissed off that you finished my strawberry shampoo that I went to your house and drained the water from that stupid cactus’s pot. You know, the one Namjoon gave you?” Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes. “Why do you think it died so fast? I killed it.”

Before he can reprimand you for purposefully orchestrating the murder of his favorite senpai’s potted cactus, you’re intercepting him with yet another tale. “And another time, I was so sick of you polishing your awards all day that I went in and sprinkled a layer of adhesive pixie dust on them from the craft store, and I know it still bothers you to this day.”

“Jeez,” he sighs after a good ten parables. “It sounds like I piss you off a lot more than I think I do.”

You pat his shoulder gently, scraping the remnants of his meal into the trash can. “Yeah, but the difference is,” you say, finding your place beside him again. You don’t climb into your chair, just hover beside him until he’s begrudgingly wrapping his arms around your waist. There’s a cute pout on him, face squished against your boobs. “I routinely let out all my raging hatred against you instead of bottling it up.”

“Yeah,” he agrees sadly. “I guess so.”

Before you can let him off believing this much is fine, you intervene once more. “And also I never purposefully pick out everything you’re insecure about.”

“I didn’t know,” he cries, all traces of that suave gentlemen you love so much gone. But it’s okay, because in his place was this vulnerable puppy looking at you with the eyes of every rescue pop in those dramatic commercials on tv. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same.

“Well, now you do,” you reprimand, giving his nose a playful pinch that almost makes him sneeze. “And I think it’s only fair I get a turn.”

He pushes away from his hiding spot in your boobs with a frown. “So you won’t physically attack me, but you will verbally attack me.”

“Yes,” you respond without missing a beat. “Because you’re easy to bully and it’s probably because of the fact you didn’t have many friends in high school, which essentially made you the class loner, thus an easy target. Explains why Namjoon had to set you up on a date with someone as amazing and outgoing as me, otherwise you would have died forever alone because of your inability to talk to women and the fact you have an awfully picky personality that can be overwhelming at times. So thank me once in a while, yeah?” you smile.

Jungkook blinks. “I think I might cry,” he admits.

You cup his cheeks in your hands, puckering his lips obnoxiously for you to smooch. “Baby, you’re dating a retired Regina George. Y’gotta tighten up a bit,” you tease, relish in the tiny smile he tries to hide after your kisses.

“So is this going to be like a thing now?” he asks as you tug him over to the couch, where The Bee Movie is still playing loud and clear. He plops down and you follow, snuggling into his side. “Because I don’t think I can ever do that again. Hurting your feelings hurts my feelings.”

You snort, taking in his smell and his warmth beside you. Jungkook sinks into the cushions, pulling you close into his chest until the soft beats of his heart echo in your ears. “No— unless you want it to be?”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[dulce-pjm]

hmm for the mix and match drabbles how about established relationship + prompt 19!!! OR bakery/flower shop/bookstore au + prompt 6!!! you can pick!!!

hmm i see your options and i raise you this: why not all?

lol an epic crossover of prompts: au #3 - established relationship!au, au #2 - bakery/flower shop/bookstore!au, prompt #19 - “No, I have a [girlfriend/boyfriend].” “That’s me! How much did you drink?”, and prompt #6 - “One more kiss.”

make your own request here using these prompts!

bakin’ me crazy

jimin x reader

word count: 3.4k

genre: fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship!au, bakery!au

summary: despite having one disaster on top of the other and then some, you can’t help but feel better when he’s around

a/n: apologies in advance. i think we’re all learning that i’m a pun-lover and that probably won’t change

It’s everywhere. 

There’s sugar in your hair and lashes, coating your cheeks and sweater, even under your nails and somehow you swear you feel it between your toes. 

It’s been a long day. Up at the crack of dawn to open up shop, meeting with customers until noon, and now you’d found yourself baking way past your bedtime to keep up with all the orders. There’s nothing you’d like more than to eat your weight in cupcakes and enter the subsequent sugar coma on your couch, never to be disturbed again. 

But just as you’d pulled that last batch of cupcakes out of the oven, just as you’d started whipping up a fresh batch of icing, disaster struck. 

You should have known better, should have thought to check. Sunny was frantic yesterday as she rushed out the door, completing her tasks as quickly as she could so as not to leave too much work for you but still be present for the birth of her child who was not supposed to be due for three more weeks. You’d tried to calm her down, tell her to go home already, but you eventually learned that pre-parental panic is just as bad in real life as it is in the Sims4 and let her do what she needed to relieve stress. 

Which included restocking the powdered sugar. 

And in her tizzy, Sunny hadn’t noticed that this bag, the very one she placed on the edge of the shelf, had a hole in it. And you, in your own tizzy of work and stress, hadn’t noticed how it began to slump over, dangerously close to falling. You hadn’t noticed the impending explosion of powdered sugar until it had detonated on top of your head. 

No part of the kitchen seemed to be spared. While you were sputtering and stumbling backwards, wielding your spatula like a weapon as if it could help you, the fine powder coated all of your fresh cupcakes (which were still hot. and thus now had a weird film of dissolved powdered sugar on top), fell onto the clean dishes drying by the sink. 

When the dust settles, you think about crying. Seriously consider it. After the past day and a half, you definitely deserve it. 

Why couldn’t one thing go right today? And now you’ll have to stay even later just to clean things up and check to see if the cupcakes are salvageable. You’re tired and you’re hungry and you really just need a hug. Is that too much to ask for?

And suddenly the tears are pricking at your eyes and you’re sniffling and hiccuping and still covered in sugar. You feel pathetic and exhausted and miserable, the terrible feeling welling in your chest with every passing moment. 

The front door of the shop swings open, the bell attached to it ringing sharply. Who the hell comes into a bakery at this late? And what the hell did you think you were doing, not locking the door earlier?

“We’re closed!” you manage, voice choked as you scramble to your feet, slightly nervous at the sudden intrusion. 

“It’s me, Y/N!” You recognize Taehyung’s voice instantly, though it doesn’t stop you from being confused. “Sorry for stopping by so late, I have Chim with me and he wouldn’t quit asking for you and I saw the lights on— What the hell happened to you?” 

You’ve fully collected yourself, walking out of the kitchen and into the lobby to find your boyfriend of a few months with his arm wrapped around your friend of many years, staring at the floor and giggling to himself. You’re still a bit flustered, inexplicably covered in powdered sugar and very confused by the sight in front of you. 

“Uh, long story?” you manage. “Well, not really. Just a freak accident in the kitchen.” You approach the two of them tentatively. “Is Jimin okay?”

 At the call of his name, he lifts his head and smiles rather stupidly when he sees you. In an instant, he parts himself from Taehyung and stumbles over to you, nearly crashing into a cake display in the process. 

“Y/N!” He wraps his arms around your waist, digging his nose into your neck and shoulder, no doubt covering his blonde strands in sugar as he nearly squeezes the air out of your lungs. 

“‘Missed you,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your sweater. 

Taehyung shakes his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “He about drank his own weight tonight at the bar, that’s all. Let Jungkook talk him into doing shots and well...” You nod knowingly, rubbing your palm up and down Jimin’s back. “He gave me a lot of trouble on the way here, he wouldn’t let up until we came to check on you.”

You laugh when Jimin squeezes you tighter, peppering kisses at the most ticklish spots on your neck. You’re surprised he’s not more talkative, normally babbling on about any and everything he can think of when he’s had enough to drink. 

“You get any good videos of them acting stupid?” Taehyung chuckles, pulling his phone from his pocket. 

“I’ll send them to you now. Jungkook was flirting with a pole for at least ten minutes before he realized.” You snort and Jimin smiles into your sweater, nearly pressing his entire body weight onto you and sending the both of you toppling. 

You know Taehyung’s tired, try as he might to hide it. You’ve always appreciated how attentive he was of your boyfriend when you couldn’t be. Their shared apartment is on the other side of town, which means either they were drinking nearby (unlikely, you all hated the bars around here) or Jimin had begged to come see you so much that Taehyung finally caved, despite his exhaustion. 

“You can leave him here, if you want. I’ll let him sleep on the couch.” Taehyung’s eyes go wide while Jimin is still blissfully unaware of what’s going on around him, snuggling into you like you’re his childhood stuffed animal. 

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. You’re clearly all tied up here—”

“It’s okay, Tae,” you insist, smiling warmly. “Go home and rest, I’ll take care of him from here.” There’s a moment where Taehyung opens his mouth to argue, but he closes it, seeing your expression. 

He sighs. “Alright, it’s your funeral,” he jokes. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

“No problem.” 

The bells tingle again as Taehyung leaves, bracing himself against the night air. 

“Alright, sleepyhead,” you tease, ruffling Jimin’s hair. “You’re gonna have to let go of me a minute so I can clean up.” 

You shuffle backwards in spite of his grumbling protests, dragging a chair into the kitchen for him to sit on. You peel him off of you while he’s spouting incoherent sentences, gently guiding him into the chair. 

It’s difficult to resist him when he gives you those puppy dog eyes and that pout like he’s going to cry if you don’t pull him into your arms again, but you remain stern, though smiling slightly at this face and clothes that have also become victim to the powdered sugar explosion, via his contact with you. 

He giggles upon fulling taking you in. 

“You look like you got snowed on,” he says, propping his chin in his hand to keep it from bobbing too much. You shake your head, a cloud of white dust falling off of you when you do. “What happened?”

“You don’t look much better, love bug. And it’s sugar.” His brows furrow in confusion before he licks his lips, smile widening at the taste. “I’ll just clean it up and then we can go home, m’kay?”

“You should let me kiss it off for you.”

You laugh, reaching for the broom while he watches you sleepily. “We’d be here all night.”

“I don’t mind,” he calls back in a sing-song voice, seeming more awake than before, or at least, more talkative. 

You get to work sweeping up the sugar, deciding to put the forgotten cupcakes in the fridge and worry about them in the morning. You’ve too soon forgotten that you were sobbing and contemplating staying here all night to finish this order a few minutes ago, Jimin’s presence, albeit pretty drunk, helping you think a bit more sensibly.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Uh-huh! Had sooooo much fun.” You sneak a glance at him, smiling softly at how his cheek is squished against his palm and his head is bobbing slightly. He starts mumbling something again and you can only catch a few words. 

“What was that?” He sighs as you dump some powdered sugar in the trash, grinning at him sweetly.

“I said you’re pretty, dummy.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly as he shakes his head to himself. “Always making me repeat myself when I compliment you.” He juts out his index finger in your direction as his words slur together. “I know your dirty tricks.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, deciding to tease him further. “Still can’t understand you, love.”

He cries out in frustration, throwing his arms out dramatically. “You’re hot! Is that what you wanna hear?” Now you can’t help but giggle at his pouting, always so easily riled up both sober and intoxicated. 

You kiss him on the top of his head as you pass by, putting away a few stray dishes. “You aren’t too bad yourself.” At that, he huffs, making a point not to look your way and give you the cold shoulder. 

You still have a few things left to tidy up and Jimin doesn’t question you further while you do them. It isn’t until you hear him snoring quietly as you wipe down the counters that you realize he’s nodded off, neck bent dangerously as his head leans against the kitchen wall. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing at his slack-jawed expression, approaching him quietly and snapping a quick picture. You immediately make it your new lockscreen, just to tease him in the morning. 

You remember the first time you met him, when Taehyung invited you to go get drinks along with the rest of your friends. The shop had been a mess and so were you, so Taehyung picked you up from work as soon as you were done as to keep you from just going home and sleeping. You’d slid into the backseat happily, Jungkook in shotgun and Jimin beside you. 

You hadn’t given him many glances, just polite greetings and small talk, not until he quietly informed you that you had hot pink frosting on your forehead and nose and you were thoroughly embarrassed. Luckily, one thing led to another and the minute you had any alcohol in your system, you were pressed against his side, rambling about the cupcake business and your passion for baking. His giggle was more intoxicating than the drinks and you found yourself unable to part from him. 

At the end of the night, you asked him to go on a date then and there, like a drunk idiot. And he said yes, also like a drunk idiot. 

Neither of you made it two steps before you were passed out in the back of Taehyung’s car, your head on his shoulder and his lying on top of yours. 

The next day, you swore you’d never drink again and hoped and prayed Jimin had forgotten the entire incident. But fate is both cruel and caring, and you’d picked up your phone a few hours into your workday to see a text from Jimin, inquiring about the promised date.

There’s still things to do and you definitely aren’t fully cleaned up, but you make the executive decision for yourself and Jimin to just go home before it’s past midnight and you’re really miserable. 

You remove your apron, tossing it in its designated bin at the back of shop, grabbing a bottle of water for Jimin and a defected cupcake (i.e. you knew you loved this flavor and purposely messed up the decoration so you could sneak it later) for yourself. Your boyfriend is still snoring quietly, head jerking painfully every few minutes as his hand struggles to it upright. You gently shake at this shoulders, keeping your voice low as to not startle him too much. 

“Hey, love bug,” you murmur. “Let’s go home, okay? Get you to bed.” He whines in his sleep, pulling away from you. 

“I can’t,” he mumbles. You laugh at his dramatics, grabbing his elbows as you try to coax him to his feet. 

“You can, promise. My apartment is just upstairs, remember?” It’d been nothing short of a coincidence that the space Sunny found for the business lied right underneath your apartment, but in times like these, it was definitely a blessing. 

He wags his finger in your face, his eyes barely opened. “Nuh-uh. No, I have a girlfriend.” You scoff incredulously, crossing your arms. 

“That’s me! How much did you drink?” His eyes open fully and he smiles sheepishly at his mistake. 

“Oh. Oops?” You roll your eyes, pulling him to his feet unceremoniously and shoving the water bottle in one hand, guiding the other around your shoulder. 

“I barely drank anything, really,” he insists as you lock the doors and turn off the lights. 

“Mhmm.”

“Like— Two sips!” he says, holding up three fingers.

“I believe you,” you lie. “Now drink some water.” He complies, though his eyes lie on the chocolate cupcake you’re taking a bite out of. You catch him staring quickly as you round the corner of the building, entering the hallway that leads to the stairs. You’d take the elevator, but you worry that if you don’t keep him moving, he’ll fall asleep where he stands, so you suck it up and prepare to climb three flights. 

Before he even has to ask, you stick the cupcake in his face and he smiles, licking a big chunk of the frosting right off the top. 

“Jimin!” you cry, yanking the cupcake back. “You know I hate when you do that! Enjoy the cupcake as it is or just ask me for some frosting.” He doesn’t seem the least bit guilty as you glare at him, pretending the leftover frosting on the corner of his cheek isn’t both tempting and adorable. 

“But I loooove the frosting!” he argues. “You know what else I love?” You already know what he’s going to say, he’d blurted out the “L word” on your two month anniversary, totally on accident. Luckily, the feelings were mutual. 

“Me?” He scrunches his nose. 

“What? No.” You gasp, offended. “I mean, yes, you know I do, but I wasn’t talking about that. I love the name of your shop.”

You blink at him twice. “You like ‘Bakin’ Me Crazy’?” You huff. “That was the biggest mistake of my life.” Now it’s his turn to be offended, stopping in his tracks and nearly sending you both falling back down the stairs. “Jimin—!”

“It’s an amazing name, Y/N!” he exclaims, brown eyes wide and earnest. “It’s cute.”

Hmmph. “If you say so, weirdo.”

“Cute like you,” he sings, loud enough to wake the entire building.

“Stop complimenting me. I’m still mad at you.” You shove the last bit of cupcake in your mouth, wiping the crumbs from your mouth with your thumb. He giggles, leaning closer to you. 

“I like you so much, did you know that?”

“I did.”

“I’d really like you if you gave me a piggyback ride, though.” You scoff. 

“You’re such a tease! You always lay it on thick when you want something.” You remember his words from earlier, wagging your finger in his face to copy him. “I know your dirty tricks.”

He sighs, acting extra tired as if to emphasize how deserving he is of a piggyback ride from you. You’d consider giving it to him, if you thought you were physically capable and you weren’t on a stairwell. 

He takes another sip of water as he pouts. “Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“No.”

“And whipped cream?” A laugh slips through your lips, all too soft for him when he’s acting cute like this. 

“What are you even talking about?” you giggle, unlocking the door to your apartment which is thankfully not far from the stairwell. “Just keep drinking that water. You’re gonna be so embarrassed in the morning.” You guide him to the side of the bed next to your dresser, helping him sit down. 

He makes grabby hands at you as you fish through your drawers for pajamas, muttering something about you abandoning him. 

You hold up a pair of bright orange fleece pants decorated with penguins. “You like these? All my sweats are in the wash.” You toss them into his lap when he nods happily. “Do you need help?” He yawns and blinks hard and you smile in satisfaction, seeing that his water bottle is half empty and he’s ever so slightly more sober. 

“I got it,” he says. You go into the bathroom, washing your face and changing into your own kiddish pajamas. When you come back into the bedroom, Jimin’s already tucked in with the covers pulled to his chin. 

You cross your arms. “I don’t remember inviting you into my bed, mister.” He smiles at you as you slide in next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You’d had every intention of sending him to the couch out of fear that he’d puke on your sheets, but you reason that you’d be cold without him and you’d rather be close by if he did get sick. 

You dust the last of the powdered sugar off of his nose and brows, pressing your cheek into his chest, exhaustion already overcoming you. Underneath the alcohol, you can still smell the comforting scent of his vanilla lotion, lulling you to sleep. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet!” he suddenly exclaims, pushing you a few inches away. You groan, propping yourself on your elbow and wondering how the hell he’s still awake and bothering you. 

“What is it?” You blink a few times as he smiles cheekily. 

“One more kiss.” You scoff. “You still have sugar on your face. On your lips, actually. So I should get it for you.” 

You’re scoffing but oblige, smiling into the kiss as he slots his plush lips against yours, knowing very well you scrubbed the last of the sugar off your face moments ago. 

--

You wake up to your phone ringing rather rudely. You sigh, peeling yourself away from Jimin and laughing at his bedhead and the displeased expression he makes in his sleep, his face swollen and eyes shut tightly. 

“Hello?” you whisper, pulling yourself into a sitting position. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Once you register her voice, you can barely contain your excitement, bouncing on the bed once before reminding yourself that Jimin’s still asleep. 

“Sunny!” you whisper-yell. “How’s Jisoo and the baby? You a mom yet?” Your business partner laughs on the other end of the phone. 

“Oh, she’s fine. Just tired. The baby was born a few hours ago, but we’re still deciding on a name for her.” You grin. “So yeah, I’m a mom and you can be her unofficial auntie.”

“You’re gonna name her after me, right?” 

Sunny giggles tiredly on the other end of the phone. “I’ll add it to the list, don’t worry.” You’re about to tell her to go get some rest, but she interrupts you before you can. 

“Speaking of names! I got in contact with that guy about changing our sign so we can finally choose a different name for the business. You’re still serious about that, right?”

You glance at Jimin, his cheek squished against the pillow and lips puckered. You run your fingers through his blonde hair and he sighs contentedly. 

“Maybe we should leave it, for now.”

“What? But you said—”

“I know, I know. Let’s talk about it another time. Go get some sleep!” 

The two of you exchange a few more words of endearment and congratulations before you hang up, noting the sunlight cracking through your blinds. 

You know you need to get up soon. There’s still cupcakes to bake and customers to deal with and a temporary replacement for Sunny to find. 

But for a moment, you self-indulge, curling up next to Jimin, letting him wrap his arms around you and warm you back up. He digs his nose into your shoulder as you press a quick kiss onto his forehead, closing your eyes and drifitng back to sleep, feeling weightless as he holds you. 

[recurring-polynya]

@trulytaka​ asked: um i’ve always dreamt about a tattoo artist!renji falling for a client AU. it’s okay if you can’t come up with anything, just a suggestion!

How is it even possible that I have never read a Tattoo Artist! Renji AU?? (If there is one, please, send it to me immediately). Anyway, I got way too enamored of this idea, this is not even remotely a drabble, it is 4400 words and it is incredibly self-indulgent, I am absolutely not sorry.

It takes place in America and everyone is Japanese-American, because I am way more comfortable writing about American tattoo culture. I have never actually read a Tattoo Artist AU, I don’t know how they are supposed to go, this is just based on my own experiences getting inked. It’s mostly a story about Rukia and Renji being incredible nerfballs, there are not nearly enough stories about Rukia being a nerfball around Renji.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

💀     🛹     💕

Izuru Kira found Renji Abarai in the break room, simultaneously trying to cram a burrito into his face and read a Hellboy comic. He was holding the comic open with his elbow in an attempt to avoid spilling guacamole on Abe Sapien.

“Your two o’clock is here,” Izuru informed his distinguished colleague.

“Oh, great!” Renji replied, creasing the foil wrapper into a spout so that he could pour the last of the salsa drippings into his mouth.

“She’s waiting in the consult room,” Izuru went on, watching Renji toss the crumpled foil ball across the room, completely missing the trash can. “Look, have you met her before? A Miss Kuchiki?”

“Just exchanged a few emails,” Renji replied, as he scrubbed his hands at the sink. “Why? Is she scary?”

“Not in the usual way of Abarai clients,” Izuru replied. “I was just… wondering if she was... in the right place.”

“Her request was very specific,” Renji replied, scooping up his comic and the manila folder underneath it. “In fact, I am quite proud of what I came up with for her.” He whipped the folder open.

Izuru stared at it for a moment. “That is so specific.”

“I honestly think this is one of the best tatts I have ever designed. I hope she’s a real weirdo, because not just anyone deserves a masterpiece of this caliber.”

“Mmm,” Izuru agreed. “Yeah. Anyway, if there’s been a, uh, miscommunication, see if you can just… redirect her. Both Momo and I are in today, okay?”

Renji scoffed and stuffed his comic in Izuru’s hand as he marched down the hall toward the consult room. A miscommunication. Renji wondered what was wrong with her. She was probably mousy and wore glasses. Izuru always assumed girls like that would rather have a sad poem about the sea or a sprig of herbs inked on her wrist (conveniently, his specialties). Plenty of mousy girls with glasses would rather rock some fangs or dripping daggers, in Renji’s professional experience.

“Knock knock!” he announced, as he slid the door open. He took one step into the room and stopped dead.

Rukia Kuchiki was not mousy. She did not wear glasses.

Renji didn’t know much about suits. He did not happen to own one himself. But he guessed that Rukia Kuchiki’s suit was expensive, in part because it fit her perfectly, despite her tiny frame. It was jet black, and didn’t have a single speck of lint or cat hair on it. Her perfectly manicured hands were folded neatly on top of her crossed legs. She was wearing very tall, very pointy heels. Their soles were bright red, which Renji had learned from television meant that they were super expensive. He realized that he probably shouldn’t be looking at her legs, even though they were very nice to look at. His eyes snapped up to her face, but that honestly wasn’t any better.

Renji wasn’t often attracted to women, but she had probably the most interesting face he had ever seen-- heart-shaped, with big, dark eyes, a sharp chin, the cutest little nose. Her make-up was subtle and professional, and her hair was swept up with a clip, although it must be fairly short, because a few pieces hung down in front of her ears, and a thick lock dangled between her eyes.

She looked like a mean lawyer from a movie, one that would drive a fancy sportscar like an act of violence. Scary, for sure. But not in the usual way of Abarai clients, who tended toward the large and beefy, not that sharp and sharklike.

That nose, though.

Suddenly, her face split into a big grin. “Hi,” she announced brightly. “I’m Rukia Kuchiki.” She had a deep voice, a very beautiful voice. “You must be Renji Abarai.” Her eyes flicked to his arms. “I mean, of course you are, who else would have those arms? They’re so cool.”

“My arms?” Renji said stupidly. “Are they… famous?”

Rukia’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, well, I follow you on Instagram, and you don’t have any pictures of your face, but your arms are in a lot of the shots and they’re, well, they’re kinda distinctive. Do you think, um, would you mind if I looked at them?”

Renji’s eyebrows shot up. It’s not like he wasn’t used to having his arms checked out, but most people were more… subtle about it. Oh, well, it was her dime. “I didn’t do them myself, obviously,” he pointed out, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt so she could see the baboon skull on his left shoulder. A skeletal arm traced down the rest of that arm, complete with an outline of his own hand bones. On the right side, a snake spine coiled around his bicep, ending with a hissing skull. “I mean, it was my design, but my friends-- the other three tattoo artists here-- all helped ink me up.” He plopped down in the chair that sat catty corner to the couch where Rukia was sitting, and held his arms out. “We’re sort of a full-service studio. I’m the skeletons and monsters guy. Izuru, the guy you met on desk duty today-- is good at calligraphy and watercolors and little, itty bitty tattoos. Momo is our nature girl, she specializes in flowers and animals, and she’s great with bright colors. The snake skull was all her. Shuuhei is really into classic tattoo art-- you need a hula girl or a heart with an arrow through it, he’s your man. He’s also incredibly talented at revamping old regret tattoos, there’s good money in that.”

“Mm,” Rukia agreed, finally tearing her eyes away from his forearms to look up at his face, and abruptly turned even pinker. A lot of people fantasized about getting a tattoo and then got a bad case of nerves when it was time to make the leap. Maybe all this was way out of her comfort zone. Renji was trying his best to be friendly and chatty, which usually helped, but he was not used to dealing with this class of lady. He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too familiar.

“Actually,” Rukia went on, pulling on her fingers nervously. “I picked this place specifically because of you. For your work, I mean. I’m kind of a big fan. I saw some of your paintings at an exhibition over at the Fine Arts College, and I just, you know, fell in love. I’d always thought I’d like to get a tattoo someday, and when I found out that you were a tattoo artist, I knew it had to be you. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, and I’m babbling and I’m really sorry, I’m just very excited.”

Renji blinked. “You’re not babbling,” he replied slowly. He was sort of hoping she might say some more things about how much she liked his art in her beautiful voice. “Wait, an exhibition at the art school? That must have been at least three years ago, when I was doing my MFA.”

“Er, right,” Rukia looked a little sheepish. “A friend of mine had some work in the same exhibit, you probably don’t know her. My favorite one of your paintings was the one with the Black Lagoon creatures eating hamburgers at a diner, but I also really liked the one that was like a huge monster with a big bone mask stalking through a city, the way you did the shadows was just incredible.”

That particular painting was currently wrapped in brown paper and stuffed behind Renji’s couch. His last boyfriend had told him it was “creepy.”

“Uh, glad you liked it,” Renji managed. “Who was your friend?”

“Her name is Inoue. Orihime Inoue.”

“Oh, the robot girl!” Renji exclaimed. “Er, I mean she drew robots. Constantly. For every assignment. I didn’t mean to imply she was… robotic. In any way.” Jeez, Abarai, pull it together, he chided himself. “Yeah, I remember her. I didn’t know her well, but she sure could draw some tight robots. Is, she, uh, doing well?”

“She’s doing storyboards for a stop-motion animation studio,” Rukia replied.

Renji smiled. “That sounds perfect for her.”

Rukia bit her bottom lip and Renji’s throat went dry.

“So, um, you said in your email that you would have a design for me to look at?”

Renji realized that he was gripping the folder like a doofus. “Right! I did a couple of variations,” he explained, passing it from one hand to the other. “But you explained the concept pretty clearly, and I’m really happy with how the first one came out. I mean, obviously, it’s your tattoo! Please give me any feedback you have, you won’t offend me, even if you hate it! Tattoo designs often take a few iterations, it’s very normal, don’t hold back.”

She was staring at him, those big eyes wide and sparkling. “Can I… see it?”

“Oh! Right!” He shoved the folder at her.

Rukia opened it up and gasped.

“I especially love the way you draw skeletons,” Rukia’s email had read. “Do you think you could tattoo a grim reaper doing a sick kickflip on a skateboard onto my outer bicep? I do lift, so I am pretty jacked, if that makes a difference.”

“It’s perfect,” Rukia sighed in a tiny voice.

“Um, in the first variation (that’s page 2) I added some sunglasses, and in the second one, the grim reaper is flipping the bird and also its head is on fire. I guess I thought that grim reapers should be gender neutral but now I’m wondering if you would have preferred more of a… lady grim reaper?” Renji yammered absently.

“Oh, no,” Rukia murmured softly, flipping through the pages. Renji wasn’t even sure she had listened to a word he had said. “These are amazing. I love the sunglasses, but I also like the way you put little flames in the eye sockets in the first one…” She waved a hand absently. “Oh, and don’t worry, I like a non-binary skeleton.”

A small problem had just occurred to Renji. “Hey, um, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I… may have overestimated the size of your arms.”

“Oh?” Rukia asked, and abruptly shucked off her expensive suit jacket. She was wearing a pale purple sleeveless silk blouse underneath. She held one arm out experimentally, and then flexed. The muscle definition on her bicep made Renji take an involuntary swallow, but the fact that she was wicked cut did not buy him much in the way of real estate.

“I’ll just shrink it down maybe 25%,” he reassured her. “I’ll have to simplify some of the detail on--”

“No,” Rukia frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t do that.” She thought for a moment. “I’m not committed to having it on my arm.” She uncrossed her legs and hefted one high-heeled foot onto the coffee table in front of her. “What do you think? Is my thigh big enough?”

Renji tried to make words come out, but it just wasn’t happening.

“Er… sorry,” Rukia said slowly, tugging at her hem. “I forgot I was wearing a skirt today.”

“Huh?” Renji scrambled to recover. He needed to say something. She looked really embarrassed. Say something! Say something professional about her leg! “Sorry, I was, uh, thinking!” Good, good, now keep going. “Don’t be self-conscious, I see people’s bodies all the time. Bodies are no big deal, we all got ‘em, right?” This was true in the abstract sense, but he knew these were blatant lies as they exited his mouth. Most people’s bodies were no big deal. He had only known her for five minutes, but was certain that Rukia Kuchiki’s thighs were a very big deal. He studied her leg, stroking his chin, like he was some kind of anthropologist of thigh tattoos. Mostly he was trying to figure out what would seem like an appropriate amount of time to look at a person’s thigh, a person who was your professional client that you most definitely did not have the hots for. “There’s certainly plenty of room,” he declared. “But, you know, people are going to see it less. Which is a selling point for some people! It’s just a personal decision that you’ll have to make. It sounds like you had a big vision.”

Rukia gingerly placed her foot back on the floor. “I had actually been wondering if maybe the upper arm was too public, anyway,” she admitted. “The fact is, I just got full access to my trust fund, and this is sort of a celebration, but I may have been a little overeager to piss off my big brother. He’s very stodgy.” She contemplated the area of her leg that was covered by her pencil skirt. “But so are a lot of people in my field. I can wait until I’m running my own company before I get started on the full sleeve of my dreams, right?”

“Worked for me,” Renji replied, utterly lost by whatever she was talking about. “What… field are you in?”

“Oh, finance,” she dismissed.

Finance. Of course. Renji tried to shoo away the weight of disappointment that was settling in his stomach. He was talking to a friendly client who was clearly loaded, loved his work, and was contemplating thousands of dollars worth of future business. He should be thrilled. He should probably be trying to sell her one of his old paintings-- they were only gathering dust, anyway. Renji would never break the studio policy about hitting on clients. The fact that she would surely laugh at him if he asked her to his favorite burger joint ought to make things easier, right?

“This is so hard!” Rukia declared, and Renji was shaken from his reverie. She was just contemplating his draft designs again, though, flipping back and forth between them.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he reassured her. “You can think about it and email me. If you’re happy enough, we can schedule your session, and we’ll work out the details between now and then. Chat it over with your pal MechaHime, she’s got good opinions.” He paused. Momo always said he was too nice during consults, they were running a business, but he couldn’t help it. “Or you can just call back when you’re ready. No pressure.”

Rukia slammed her fist down on her knee. “No! Let’s schedule it! Do I pay now?”

“20% deposit. Let’s go out front, Izuru will ring it up.”

“Perfect.” She looked longingly at the drawings again. “Can I take these with me? You’re absolutely right, Orihime will know what to do.”

Renji wrinkled his nose. “It’s actually against studio policy but…”

Rukia’s face suddenly became very serious. “Then it’s against policy.” She winked at him and smiled. “You should take care of your intellectual property, Mr. Abarai.”

“I never get over to this part of town, to be honest,” Rukia admitted as they walked back up to the front. “Is the taco place across the street any good?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Renji agreed. “Momo and I painted a huge mural on their wall, so they give us free churros.”

“Are tacos a good post-tattoo celebratory meal?” Rukia asked curiously.

“Well, you actually want to eat beforehand,” Renji pointed out. “It’s important to keep your energy up. I don’t estimate yours should take very long, I’m gonna book you a two-hour slot.”

“Ah, okay,” Rukia agreed, and Renji realized belatedly that...maybe… she had been asking him out? No. Surely not. His brain scrabbled for a response, but then he stepped into the reception area and his brain shut down entirely.

“It’s DONE!” Shuuhei bellowed. “Behold my work, ye mighty, and despair!”

Tetsuzaemon Iba, serial client, yakuza enthusiast, and assistant manager at a doggie day care, was flexing. He was not wearing a shirt.

From behind the reception desk, Kira was wearing a dour frown and shaking his head.

“It’s a masterpiece,” Renji declared. “I admit I was skeptical, but it looks fantastic, man. You happy with it?”

“It” was a massive tattoo, covering the wide landscape of Iba’s broad back. It featured a lucky cat, grinning maniacally, its paw held high. It was on fire. The kanji for “lucky charm” was incorporated somehow. It was a disaster. It was perfect.

“How could I not be?” Iba boomed.

“Whoa,” a tiny voice behind Renji said.

Iba’s face went pale when he realized that he was being Peak Iba in front of an elegant, professional woman whose shoes probably cost more than his entire net worth. “Gimme me my shirt!” he demanded of Shuuhei.

“That’s… amazing!” Rukia exclaimed, her face lighting up. “Wow, how long did that take?”

Shuuhei blinked slowly as he passed Iba his shirt. “Five sessions.”

“Well, it’s so cute!” Rukia announced. “You must love cats.”

Iba lifted at the same gym as Renji and watched Momo’s Pomeranian on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He was a regular fixture at the tattoo studio, and all four of them liked to drag him, but no one, none of them, had ever roasted him this hard. Renji cursed that no-asking-out-clients rule, because he wanted to buy Rukia Kuchiki her own body weight in tacos and then ask her to be his wife.

“He’s more of a dog person,” Shuuhei supplied.

“Great with dogs,” Izuru added.

“Shut up, you jerks, I am a lover of all animals,” Iba grumbled as he pulled his Hawaiian shirt over his shoulders. “Is this your lawyer, Abarai? Did you finally get arrested for that hairstyle?”

“I have an MBA, actually, not a JD,” Rukia replied matter-of-factly. “And I am his client. Can you show that large man my tattoo design? Is that allowed?”

Renji chuckled, and pulled out his drawing.

“That,” Iba declared, “is a wicked tatt.”

“Oh, you showed me that email!” Shuuhei recalled. “It came out great.” He regarded Rukia. “He was really excited about that one, you made his day.”

Rukia just beamed proudly.

“Are we booking a session, then?” Izuru asked hopefully.

“Yeah, two hours,” Renji nodded.

“Let me just finish ringing up Iba, and I’ll see when you’ve got an opening,” Izuru replied.

“This your first one?” Shuuhei asked Rukia conversationally.

“Mm-hmm,” Rukia nodded.

“Well, you made a good choice. Clean design, mostly black with just a few color pops, should go on quick and easy, and it’ll hold up really well, too.”

“This is Shuuhei, the one I was telling you about, who fixes a lot of bad tattoos.”

“I have never had to fix an Abarai tattoo,” Shuuhei declared. “He’s great with first timers. Very gentle. I’ve fallen asleep while he was inking me.” Shuuhei pointed to the pair of crossed scythes gracing his upper arm. “This is one of his.”

“Oooh, neat!” Rukia agreed.

“You’re being embarrassing,” Renji informed his friend.

“Always,” Shuuhei agreed. “Nice to meet you! I hope I get to see the finished product.” He waved to Iba as he headed off toward the back. “Don’t forget to moisturize!”

“Everyone’s so friendly here,” Rukia said softly to Renji. “This isn’t at all like I pictured it.”

Renji stretched his arms behind his head. “Nah, we’re just a bunch of goofballs who like drawin’ on people. Very lowkey.”

“I guess I’ve thought a lot about the getting tattooed part of getting tattooed, but I never thought of it as… a job. That people have.”

“It’s a great job,” Renji replied. “I love it. I’m just lucky that Izuru over there has enough business sense to keep the other three of us from running it into the ground.”

“That’s certainly the truth,” Izuru agreed, as Iba headed out the door. “Two hours, you said? Renji’s got a 4-6pm block open on a Wednesday, three weeks from now. The 24th, how does that work for you, Ms. Kuchiki?”

“Do you think that’s enough time to settle on a design?” Renji asked. “If you come up with changes, it should only take me a day or two to incorporate them.”

“Oh! Yes, three weeks should be fine. I thought… it might be a little sooner,” Rukia replied, sounding a tad disappointed.

“Abarai’s a busy man, three weeks is actually pretty quick,” Izuru explained.

“Right, of course!” Rukia nodded. “Yes, I’ll take the 24th!”

She then paid her deposit, a process which involved her taking approximately ten thousand items out of her purse, including a full-sized drawing pad, a single fingerless glove, and a Pez dispenser with a duck head. She was the most contradictory person Renji had ever met, and he just wanted to know everything about her. But instead, they were going to exchange a couple of emails about a grim reaper on a skateboard, he was going to spend an hour and a half two inches from her naked thigh in a state of intense, non-sexual concentration, and then he would likely never see her again.

“Okay, I guess that’s it!” Rukia said, stuffing the last of her worldly belongings back into the purse. “Three weeks, then!”

“Three weeks it is,” Renji agreed. “Unless we happen to run into each other at the taco place.”

Rukia blinked. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Right. Ha, ha, of course!” She’d been walking backwards toward the door, an impressive feat in those heels, and she spun suddenly to pull it open.

“It’s a push,” Renji and Izuru chorused together.

“Ha, ha, of course it is!” Rukia laughed nervously, and ducked out.

Izuru stared pointedly at Renji. “Wow,” he said.

“I don’t know what you have against her,” Renji scowled. “So she’s professional. She was really nice. She’s a big fan of my work.”

Izuru cocked his head. “She’s clearly also a big fan of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Renji said.

“Look, I’m sorry I implied that a person who drives a Lotus Exige would not be interested in having your weird skeleton doodles permanently placed on her body,” Izuru held up his hands, “but did you really not notice the little hearts and singing birds floating around her head every time she gazed longingly at you?”

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Renji snapped.

“It looked fancy and I asked Shuuhei what it was, okay!”

On cue, Shuuhei burst back into the reception area, Momo close on his tail. “Are we talking about the hot client who has a crush on Abarai?”

“Did you ask her out?” Momo asked breathlessly.

“She’s not really his type,” Izuru mused. “Very corporate.”

Renji frowned. Did he have a type? If his type excluded people like Rukia Kuchiki, he might need to get a new type.

“Who cares, she was adorable!” Momo insisted. “I woulda asked her out.”

“Renji, if you go out with her, can you get me a ride in the Exige?” Shuuhei added.

“I’m not gonna ask her out!” Renji protested. “What happened to the no-hitting-on-clients rule?”

“The rule is no creeping on clients,” Shuuhei correctly. “This is different. She’s clearly into you, big time.”

“Also, she seems non-terrible, unlike the questionable human beings you usually take up with,” Izuru pointed out. “We could relax the rule if it netted you an actually decent partner for a change.”

Renji scowled judgmentally at Izuru, as if his own dating history had been remotely better before he and Shuuhei finally hooked up.

“Oh!” Momo waved her phone. “Speaking of which, I googled her, like you told me to, Izuru--”

“Izuru!” Renji protested.

“--and you were right! She’s not just one of the Kuchikis, she’s the granddaughter!” Momo thrust her phone in Renji’s face. It was some article about some fancy charity event, complete with a picture that was clearly Rukia, dressed in a dramatic black and gold evening gown.

Renji wanted to push Momo’s hand away, but he also didn’t want to stop looking at Rukia in that dress. “The who?” he asked.

Izuru and Momo sighed dramatically in synchronized exasperation.

“Embarrassingly rich old money family? I don’t know what they actually do, but they’re always in the newspapers, donating money for something or other--”

“Billionaire philanthropists,” Shuuhei intoned in a fake deep voice.

“--I heard they’re descended from some famous clan of samurai back in Japan,” Momo ignored him. She jerked her phone back and started tapping at it frantically. “I’m sure you’ve seen pictures of the grandson-- Rukia’s brother, I guess. He always makes those lists of top ten hottest bachelors.”

“He’s dreamy,” Shuuhei seconded.

“Impossibly dreamy,” Izuru thirded.

Momo flipped her phone around again, to reveal a picture of a very serious, and very handsome man in a classic three-piece wool suit. Renji supposed “impossibly dreamy” was not an inaccurate description.

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen pictures of that guy before,” Renji shrugged. “He’s okay. Rukia has a more interesting face, I think.”

Momo and Shuuhei exchanged raised eyebrows.

“You do like her, then?” Izuru asked, his face brightening. “You’re wrong, by the way, Byakuya Kuchiki has the face of an angel.”

“Rukia says he’s stuffy,” Renji shrugged. “And fine. I like her. She’s cute and nice and had good taste in tattoos. What’s not to like?”

“Are you gonna ask her out, then?” Momo pressed.

“Absolutely not,” Renji replied. “She’s my client. Besides, as you just pointed out, she’s loaded. What’s she want with a scumbag like me?”

All three of his friends groaned.

“You have good delts and sexy hair,” Izuru pointed out.

“You give amazing hugs!” Momo declared.

“You draw fantastic skeletons,” Shuuhei added. “Which, apparently, is relevant to her interests, and not a thing you usually find on Tindr.”

“Also, we’ve already established that she does like you, regardless of whether she has a valid reason for doing so,” Izuru concluded. “So, if you’re at all interested, you really shouldn’t let that stop you.”

“I think you should go for it,” Momo encouraged.

“Me, too,” Shuuhei agreed.

Renji grimaced. She was an amazing girl, too good to be true probably. If she had any sense at all, she would certainly turn him down. But maybe… just maybe… she didn’t have any sense. “Okay,” he grudgingly agreed. “I’ll do it. But not until I’m finished the damn tattoo!”

[mithrilhearts]

💕 get to know your mutuals!! when you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know. they can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. when you’re done, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better!! 🥺🌼💕

Five facts about me… oh boy! I’m going to give the disclaimer that I really don’t have a LOT interesting about me, so prepare for the most boring read of your life.

I actually disliked The Lord of the Rings when it first came out, and here’s why. I was fairly young when those movies came out and will admit that I was a huge baby when it came to visuals and what not as a kid. So the Orcs and other monsters tended to frighten me. I would never be able to watch past The Fellowship of the Ring without being terrified. As I grew older and fell more in love with the fantasy genre, and with the coaxing of my sister (who was the biggest LOTR geek I knew at the time), I gave the movies another try and fell in love. Though they didn’t hit me nearly as close to home as the Hobbit did because I had seen LOTR before and initially had been afraid. The Hobbit was more “my time” when it came out and it is still my favorite trilogy, even if I adore all six movies all the same.

I am a hairdresser by trade! I feel like creativity is a huge part of my life, even if I feel like I can barely draw a stick figure to save my life, I can express my creativeness through my occupation, and not to toot any horns, I like to say I’m pretty good at it too! I’ve been doing this for approx 9 years, having graduated from high school early and jumping right into trade school. Beauticians seem to run in my family, though I am the last as far as my generation and onward goes and it makes me insanely proud to do my “predecessors” proud.

I have 4 tattoos total, all on my arms! 3 on one, 1 on the other, and all have some sort of significant meaning (and double meanings because hooray). I have a ship helm on my left wrist and an anchor on my right wrist, which goes to my love of all things pirate/nautical. I am a huge fan of the POTC series, I fell in LOVE with Captain Hook on Once Upon a Time, and aside from that, my family had made something of a tradition to do beach vacations together ever since I was five, even if some years we never got to go due to scheduling conflicts and other nonsense. So those mean a lot to me. Then I have the “Thief for Hire” symbol from The Hobbit on my right arm to demonstrate my love of the movies/book/Tolkien. Then there’s my favorite, which is a little acorn on my right hand, which I symbolize with home, to quote Bilbo Baggins - “One day it’ll grow, and every time I look at it, I’ll remember. Remember everything that happened: the good, the bad and how lucky I am that I made it home.” Plus, Bagginshield is my ultimate OTP and has been since the films came out. REPRESENT.

I am a very anti-social, yet social, person. I love my job, I get to meet all sorts of different people, but I also find it very hard to talk to people when I’m not wearing my professional persona. I like to be more of a homebody, to play video games and spend my evenings on Tumblr, etc, versus conversing with people. My online friends ARE my best friends more than those that I can physically see around me. If I could be a straight up hermit, I think I would do just fine, so long as I could keep my dogs with me.

I’m a writer! While I haven’t published anything, I have been writing since I was about thirteen years old, roleplaying more than anything and have seen myself grow in quality as a writer. I’ve never dabbled in fan-fiction, even though I’d absolutely love to, but my fear of being trashed kind of keeps me from doing so (lol I worry a lot). I also have a very deep rooted dream of being able to write a novel one day, perhaps similarly of the world building that Tolkien did with his books! I love writing, and would love to feel more comfortable in sharing my drabbles or finding new prompts, but alas. One day perhaps!

There, five things about me that I find somewhat interesting at the very least. Hope you all enjoyed my babbles, and thanks @reshirement for sending me this lovely little ‘get to know you’ prompt!!

[neerasrealm]

Checking In

Zalgo checks in on his minions after coming home late one night. Short fluffy drabble that sorta sheds some light on zalgo’s mindset and view of the people around him word count: 1477

Zalgo quietly pushed open the door to the house of his realm. It was the only building in the entire barren wasteland, and it was quite sizable. The inside was warm and comfortable. One could even believe it was...cozy. A safe, loving home where one could feel like they belonged, like they had a place where they were comforted and wanted. It could almost be the home for...a family. Though Zalgo was above family. He was a god, and all the inhabitants in the house were human. Or at least, they used to be human. 

But still...he cared for them. All of them. He found himself thinking of his minions often. Not plans for them, not things he wanted them to do, but rather just…them. Times he had spent with them, or wondering what they were doing at the time. He was fond of them. Somehow, he felt...attached. Like how humans felt for one another. Or maybe he was wrong, and those feelings were mere mirages. Him mistaking what he felt for something else. He didn’t know.

These thoughts weighed on his mind as he walked through the empty living room. It was cozy, with a fireplace, large TV and comfy chairs. Often he’d find Jane sitting on the couch, reading something while listening to jazz or some other music through the record player over by the corner. He’d always greet her with enthusiasm, happy to see her. She was such a pleasure to be around. Polite, smart, well-mannered. She would greet him with a soft smile, even when masked, and a gentle ‘’Hello, lord.’’. Zalgo smiled to himself. Jane was likely asleep by now. It was late, and he didn’t want to disturb her, or anyone else for that matter.

He stepped into the kitchen and paused, a look of surprise crossing his face. Sitting at the kitchen table was a girl in her older teens, wearing a green plaid shirt and jeans. Her hair was a messy mop of muddy brown that hung just past her chest. As Zalgo leaned closer he could see her hand, with chipped polished nails, clasped around a brown bottle of booze. 

‘’Natalie?’’ he called gently. Her head jerked up and turned to him. The girl gave him a lazy grin. One of her eyes was a bright, emerald green, and the other was- well- a clock. She hiccuped and covered her mouth. 

‘’Mmmf- h-hey Zalgz!’’ she grunted. Zalgo pursed his lips.

‘’You’re drinking very late…’’ he murmured, sounding almost like a worried parent. Natalie rolled her eyes.

‘’I’m fiiiiine.’’ she murmured. She stood up, but then stumbled and wobbled and had to lean against the table for support. ‘’Oof-! Heheh, whoops-’’ she laughed deliriously at her own drunkenness. She turned to Zalgo and gave him a grin. 

‘’You’re drunk.’’

‘’I’m naaaht drunk.’’ she whined. She tossed her head back, looking up at Zalgo as he moved closer to her and leaned over her. He gave her an unamused glare. Her smile dropped. ‘’Oh c’moooon zalgz, can’t a girl have fuuuun?’’

Zalgo sighed and walked around her. Before she could even protest, he grabbed her and lifted her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style. He looked down at her and sighed gently, shaking his head. ‘’You have too much fun sometimes, Natalie.’’

Natalie grinned, then cracked up laughing. Her nose crinkled as she snickered to herself. Zalgo smiled softly and turned towards the kitchen door. He gently swayed Natalie from side to side as he walked, rocking her ever so slightly. She drunkenly babbled something unintelligible and rested her head against Zalgo’s chest. He hummed gently in reply, hoping that would sate the drunken girl. He walked slowly up the stairs and down the hall to Natalie’s room. The door creaked open for him and he carefully stepped over the trash and discarded clothes on the floor. He lay Natalie down on her bed, which was also a mess, and frowned as he looked around. Her room was a mess, covered in trash, clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. Mostly different kinds of clocks. She had at least eight of them hanging on her walls, if not more. He sighed and looked down at the girl, who was snuggling her face into her pillow.

‘’Natalie, tomorrow can you clean up in here?’’ he asked gently. 

‘’mmmnnnaaaghhh...I’on wanna…’’ she whined. Zalgo sighed and reached down, combing his hand through her hair. 

‘’I’ll pretend I heard you say ‘sure Zalgo, of course I will’.’’ he murmured with a smile. Natalie laughed. He grinned to himself and gently pulled up her blankets, tucking her in and brushing hair from her face. He lingered for a moment, watching her drift off to sleep. ‘’Goodnight, little gnat.’’ he whispered before turning and walking over to the door. He paused for a second and stared at her, smiling warmly. 

Zalgo stepped out of the room and paused, looking up and down the hallway. He turned to his right and walked to the room next door to Nat’s. Jane’s room. He gently pushed open the door and peaked in. As expected, Jane was fast asleep, curled up in bed. He smiled, satisfied, and walked back down the hallway. He stopped outside the next door and quietly knocked on it before pushing the door open and peaking inside. 

Inside the room was simple. Grey carpet and night-blue walls. It had a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling, decorated with bones. The entire room had a bone theme. They were set up on shelves and tables, crafted into beautiful decorations along with feathers. Lots of feathers. Rosemary’s room. The girl in question looked up from her desk and turned towards the door. She broke into a smile and gave him a small wave in greeting. Zalgo smiled. 

‘’Hello, little lamb.’’ he signed to her. Rosemary lit up in a grin at the familiar nickname. 

‘’Hello lord.’’ she signed back. She tossed her head to the side. ‘’Need something?’’

‘’No, no.’’ Zalgo shook his head. He stood up from the door and stepped into the room. ‘’Just wanted to check on you.’’ he tilted his head at her, his hands pausing for a second. ‘’Are you working on something?’’

Rosemary nodded and waved for him to come closer. Zalgo crossed the room and leaned against the desk, looking at what the girl was doing. She was in the process of sealing a frog’s skeleton in resin. The skeleton sat in a rubber mold, just big enough for it, and it was halfway covered in resin. Rosemary turned back to her work, grabbing the plastic cup of resin she was using and pouring more of it into the mold. Zalgo smiled.

‘’Very impressive.’’ he signed, giving her a warm smile. Rosemary grinned wide, her legs swinging off her chair with joy. He pat her head, then leaned down and kissed the top of it. ‘’You never fail to amaze me, little lamb.’’ he murmured to her, knowing she loved hearing his compliments more than anything. She let out a quiet squeak of joy and he chuckled. ‘’Show me when it’s finished, won’t you?’’

She nodded and tapped her fingers against her cheek. ‘’Yes padre.’’ 

Zalgo smiled and turned, walking out of the room. He had one more person to check on. He knocked on their door and waited patiently outside.

‘’Come in.’’ 

Zalgo smiled warmly and opened the door. He walked inside and strode across the giant room. He paused at one of the three worktables where his beloved toymaker sat, leaning on it. Jason glanced up at Zalgo for only a moment before looking back down at his work. ‘’Evening, m’lord.’’ he greeted.

‘’Good evening Jason.’’ Zalgo murmured with a smile. ‘’Or rather, good morning. It’s far past midnight you know.’’

Jason grunted. ‘’I didn’t notice.’’

Zalgo laughed gently. ‘’I didn’t think you did, nounour…’’ he murmured. He watched Jason silently, admiring how gentle and precise his hands were as he carved features into the new wooden figure he was making. Zalgo admired him. Jason was talented, he could make elegant works of art as if it were nothing. Even his sketches, simple concept art, was astounding to him. ‘’Are you going to stay up all night working?’’ he asked softly. 

‘’No…’’ Jason shook his head. ‘’I won’t.’’

‘’You promise?’’ Zalgo asked, cocking a brow. Jason smiled ever so slightly, just for a moment.

‘’I promise.’’

‘’Good.’’ Zalgo stood up and smiled at the redhead. ‘’Goodnight, Jason.’’

‘’Goodnight m’lord.’’ Jason murmured back. Zalgo walked out of the room and sighed contentedly as he closed the door behind him. He looked around the house for a few silent moments before smiling to himself and walking down the hall.

Maybe...just maybe, Zalgo could believe he cared for them all. Like...family, nearly. Yes. That sounded nice.

[winterfrostlovetriangle]

The Man Behind the Shield

A/N: I have decided to expand my writing to now include Marvel characters. Here is my first one, starring the beloved Steve Rogers. I hope you all enjoy. 

Thank you to my beta @fortheloveoflamp. I couldn’t have done it without you!

Summary:  Steve and the reader are friends who are in love with each other, but are too scared to tell the other one. When Steve is injured, feelings will be confessed.

Warnings: None

Masterlist

“Excuse me, Miss.” Friday’s voice broke through the silence. 

You started a bit. “Yes?”

“The team is back. Sergeant Barnes wanted me to inform you that Captain Rogers has been injured.”

Your heartbeat picked up. Injured? “Where is he?”

“He arrived in his room ten minutes ago.”

“Thank you, Friday.” You shot out of your chair and raced to Steve’s room. 

The other Avengers had been gone for two weeks on a dangerous mission. You hadn’t been allowed to go because you were recovering from a previous injury. No amount of pleading had changed their minds, and you had been stuck inside the tower, by yourself. Your writing was the only thing that kept you occupied during that time. 

You were an amateur writer, short stories or drabbles mostly. No one knew about your hobby, until one day you had been talking with Steve, and he found your notebook. He read all of them, enthusiastically praising your writing. In the beginning, you would blush and change the subject, but Steve wouldn’t let it go. Finally, you shared your stories with him and even started writing some for him. You would leave them in his room for him to read. Hours later, Steve would return to you with his own sketches, illustrating different parts of your stories.

You finally made it to Steve's door and knocked quickly. You stood there for a few moments, and when there was no response, you grew worried. Turning the handle, you walked into his room.

“Steve?” No response. 

You stood still, trying to figure where else he could be. 

“Y/N?”

Turning toward the voice, you paled. In front of you stood Steve, bloodied and bruised. He only wore an undershirt and a pair of briefs. To most people, that sight would have them blushing, but to you two, it was normal. Noticing that Steve was covered in blood, and hoping it wasn't all his, you ran over to him. 

You pulled him into the bathroom and directed Steve to sit on the side of the tub. You found the first aid kit and a towel, soaking it in hot water. 

“Take your shirt off and throw it in the trash. That will never be white again.” 

Steve did as you told him and you started scrubbing the blood off. 

“I -” he began.

“Should have been more careful,” you interjected. “The odds were probably five to one, and you being you, went all Captain America on their butts, and didn’t leave any bad guys for the others, eh?”

Steve winced at how hard you were rubbing. “Doll, I’m fine. Ow!”

“I should have been there, it would have evened out the fight a bit. And you," you paused, looking the super soldier in the eyes, "Should've gone to the infirmary first."

Finally getting most of the blood off, you picked up a few cotton balls and the antiseptic, applying it to the scratches. 

“It’s not all mine, I promise.”

I don’t care whose it is, you need to be less cavalier next time. There is a team you know?” you continued chiding Steve. “And another thing-”

Steve never let you finish. He grabbed your stray hand, bringing it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. You froze, your mouth dropping open, as he chuckled. 

“You wouldn’t stop talking and I was tired of being scolded like a schoolboy. It was the only thing I could think of to shut you up.”

You blushed. “Well, there are other ways of stopping me.”

“Doll, you wouldn’t let me get a word in and I had to do something. Plus you’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he winked. Your forehead creased and you squinted your eyes.” He traced those spots, smoothing away the worry. 

You couldn't help but smile softly at his actions

“See there is that beautiful smile. It can light up any room and never fails to make my day better.” Steve brought you to sit in his lap. “Now just listen to me. It seems you’ve forgotten that I heal quickly, there is no need for a fuss.”

You nodded and hung your head, knowing you had overreacted. But you couldn’t help it, you loved him. You knew he would only ever see you as a friend, but you were in love with Steve Rogers. 

“Look at me, doll.” Steve’s voice was soft. 

Your eyes found his again and he smiled at you in a way that made your heart flutter. 

“I appreciate that you were so concerned and ran to help me, but next time I would prefer if you didn’t act like my Ma.” 

“I’m sorry, Steve. My brain told me that you were fine, but my heart told me to come find you and make sure you were okay. I get so worried when the person I lo…” your eyes widened and you suddenly got off his lap. You paced the bathroom, wringing your hands together. “But your Captain America and I’m...me. There’s no way you’d - oof.” You turned around and were met with a wall of muscle. 

Steve caught you and his arms went around your waist. “What are you going on about now? You babble when you are nervous. What did I do?” He looked confused.

You sighed and looked up at him, but couldn’t look past his well-toned abs. “I’ll tell you but can you please put a shirt or pants on first, you’re making this difficult. Ugh, why do you have to be so perfect?” 

Steve laughed, letting go of you and heading into his room. “Do you have a preference?”

You had followed him out and were leaning on the door frame, staring shamelessly at the man in front of you. 

“Pardon?” you asked. 

“Which would you prefer I put on a shirt OR pants.” He smirked at you. “This doesn’t usually bother you, doll. What’s wrong?” He found a pair of sweatpants and a tight shirt and tugged them on. 

“You.” He cocked a brow at you. “You are the problem, Steven Grant Rogers. You are so perfect with...all your muscles,” you stuttered motioning to his body. “And that darned sideways smile that turns my insides to jelly. And those - you pointed to his eyes - don’t even get me started on those.” you shut your eyes before continuing. “Hmm, you flash your babies blues and every woman in a five-mile radius, flocks to you. You could tell them to go jump off a bridge and they would do it, no questions asked. You are too sweet for your own good, Rogers.” You finally screwed up your courage and opened your eyes.

Steve was right in front of you, with an expression you had never seen before. Your pulse quickened. He walked closer to you caging you against the wall. The two of you stood staring at each other for a few minutes. 

“Say something, please?” you whispered. 

“What would you do?” Now it was your turn to be confused. “I’ve been looking at you and you haven’t moved an inch,” he explained.

You blushed again. “Your eyes captivate me, I get so lost in them. It’s like looking at the ocean. When I look at you, I am completely under your spell.”

“Well, you’re not much better, doll. Whenever you are around, my world brightens. You give me hope, make me laugh, and make me work harder. You can be innocent one minute and sassy the next. You are amazing.” Steve leaned forward. “And I am completely in love with you.”

“You are?” You were totally shocked. “But you’re Captain America, you deserve someone better.”

“But I am Steve Rogers first. You have always been able to see the man behind the shield, and you made me see that too. 

You smiled up at him. “I love you too, Steve. I always have.”

Steve returned your smile, reaching for the back of your neck with one hand, while the other rested on your hip. He leaned down further and captured your lips with his. You closed your eyes and sighed. The kiss was sweet and gentle, just like Steve. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

“Will you be my girl then?”

“Of course,” you giggled, causing Steve to smile. 

He pecked your lips before stepping back. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to his bed. Steve got in first, holding the covers open for you. You slid in beside him and curled up against his warm body.

Can you tell me your latest story? I've been itching to draw something again.”

You nodded and began recounting your tale. At the end, you peaked at Steve and saw he was fast asleep, causing you to smile.

“Friday,” you whispered. “Please turn out the lights.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You laid your head on his chest and closed your eyes. 

“Good night, Steve. Sleep well.”

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