•Sakamaki and Mukami brothers reacting to their s/o accidentally flashing their panties•
♥Shu: Heh, that was quite the sight… Care to show me more? He said as he slid two fingers under the waistband of your skirt.
♥Reiji: I don’t know what to say… I thought you had more pride. Ugh, don’t excuse yourself. Oh, by the way… Little bears? Are you a kindergartener or a grown up woman?
♥Ayato: Ha! Polka dots! You don’t need to cover yourself, Chichinashi. I already saw everything!
♥Kanato: WHAT DO YOU THING YOU ARE- Oh…I guess those will match with the lolita dress I have for you.
♥Laito: Ufuu~ Bitch-channn! Those are cute indeed, but next time wear thongs for me, yes~? I bet you would look sexy…
♥Subaru: W,what are you talking about?! I SAW NOTHING! Even if his blushing face says otherwise…
♥Ruki:*sigh* Where’s your decency, Livestock? Hmmm… Now that I think about it, I don’t regret seeing your underwear. Maybe I should punish you later, with you wearing nothing but these pink panties…
♥Kou: Uwaaah! I saw them! I saw your panties~! I couldn’t see them very clearly, though. Can you move like that again, M Neko-chan?~ Can you stop acting like a 10 year old?
♥Yuma:He always lifts you up on his shoulder like a bag of potatos. This time, you were wearing a skirt that was pretty short. So, when he turned his head around… Surprise!
SOW? What is this, now?! Tiny strawberries?! Are you kidding? Hahah no! I’m not putting you down!
♥Azusa:There was no perversion on his eyes nor his voice. Actually, he was feeling rather… Curious. Hey… Eve… Those panties look cute on you… Hey… Can I see them again?… Do you have more… Like these?
Summary: Y/N can’t stop baking. While the rest of the team enjoys the treats, Bucky knows that something deeper is going on.
Bucky x reader. HURT/COMFORT. Fluff. Word count: 1.6 k
TW: anxiety, bruises
The tower was filled with laughter as Bucky walked in, just
having returned from a solo mission in Germany. He walked into the lounge to
find the team sprawled out on the furniture stuffing their faces with cookies,
cupcakes, brownies, and other desserts. He looked over at the counter to see an
array of treats—enough to feed the team several times over.
“Hey, what’s with all the treats? Did Tony buy out a bakery
or what?” Bucky asked Steve. While licking frosting off of his fingertips,
Steve said “Nope. Y/N has gone on some kind of baking rampage. She’s gone to
the store twice so far to get more flour. Not sure why she’s doing it, but I’m
not complaining—these cupcakes are amazing! You’re a lucky fella, Buck—your
girlfriend is one heck of a baker!” Bucky closed his eyes and exhaled loudly.
“I know why she’s doing it.” Bucky muttered as he walked toward the kitchen.
When he walked in, Bucky saw that the kitchen was a
disaster. Flour and sugar covered the counters, the sink was full of dirty mixing
bowls and spoons, a sea of cookies was spread out on cooling racks, and the
ticking of three separate cooking timers rang through the kitchen as Y/N stood
there rolling out dough on the counter. She was wearing jeans and a pink
t-shirt, with her hair in a ponytail. Her purple apron was covered with smears
of flour and cake batter. “What are you doing?” asked Bucky, even though he
knew her answer would only be a smokescreen. He knew that she only baked when
she was feeling stressed or anxious because she found it therapeutic, but for
her to be baking this much, it must be pretty bad this time. “What does it look
like I’m doing? I’m trying to roll out this pie dough but I can’t get it
right.” said Y/N without even looking up. She continued rolling the dough as
Bucky slowly walked toward her. “So, how was—“ Bucky was cut off by the ringing
of a cooking timer before he could finish his sentence. “Hold that thought!”
said Y/N as she reached for the timer. “Ok, the cow-shaped timer is for the red
velvet cupcakes, the piggy timer is for the peanut butter cookies, and the little
chicken is for the chocolate chip cookies…I think. Can you hand me that oven
mitt? The piggy is ringing so I’ve gotta take the peanut butter cookies out of
the oven.” Bucky grabbed the bright pink oven mitt sitting on the counter, and
when Y/N turned to take it from him he saw that she had a dark bruise running
from just above her left eye all the way down her cheek. “She must’ve had a
mission go south. That’s got to be why she’s so upset.” Bucky thought to
Y/N turned off the pig timer, pulled the cookies out of the
oven, placed them on a cooling rack, and immediately went back to rolling the
pie dough. The smell of peanut butter filled the room as Bucky watched her.
“Want some help?” asked Bucky. He knew nothing about baking, but wanted to
spend some time with Y/N, and be there for her, even if she didn’t realize
exactly why he was there. “Sure,” she replied. “See that piping bag over there?
That frosting is for the devil’s food cupcakes. They should be cool by now, so
go ahead and frost them while I try to get this damn dough right.” “It looks
okay to me,” Bucky said with a little hesitation. “What’s wrong with it?” Y/N
threw the rolling pin down on the counter and nervously put her flour-dusted
hands on her head. “EVERY TIME I ROLL IT OUT, I SCREW IT UP. IT WON’T ROLL OUT
BIG ENOUGH TO COVER THE WHOLE PIE BUT THEN I TRY TO FIX IT AND I MAKE IT TOO
THIN AND I’VE BEEN DOING IT OVER AND OVER FOR AN HOUR AND I CAN’T GET IT RIGHT
BECAUSE I CAN’T GET ANYTHING RIGHT AND I JUST CAN’T DO IT ANYMORE!” she yelled,
not in anger but rather in sadness. She broke down in tears and sat on the
kitchen floor sobbing, covering her face with her hands. Bucky sat down next to
her and put his arm around her shoulder.
“It’s okay, Y/N. It happens to all of us—sometimes missions
don’t go the way we’d like them too. If you want to talk about it, I’ll always
listen. If not, that’s fine too. I can frost cupcakes. They probably won’t be
very pretty, but I can give it a go. Anything for you.” She took her hands off
of her face and leaned into Bucky’s chest. He wrapped his other arm around her
and held her close until finished crying it out. He knew that sometimes she
just needed a good cry to get it all out, and all she needed him to do was be
there. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “Thank you.” she whimpered
softly. Bucky replied with a warm “I love you,” which Y/N answered with a kiss,
and next thing they knew Y/N was sitting in Bucky’s lap and they were
passionately making out.
All of a sudden, they were interrupted by Tony saying “Good
Lord people! Why did you have to desecrate the kitchen?! Get a room—like
literally leave and go to another room. Ridiculous.” Before they could reply, another
one of the kitchen timers started ringing. Bucky and Y/N turned to each other
and started laughing as they stood up. Y/N removed the remaining treats from
the oven and set them on the counter. She and Bucky took all of the treats that
were on the cooling racks and put them on plates to take out to the lounge to
add to the dessert table. They walked into the room, and when they turned
around to put down the plates, the rest of the team burst out in laughter. Not
knowing the cause, Y/N and Bucky turned around. “What’s so funny?” asked Bucky.
Nat was laughing so hard she was crying, but managed to squeak out the words
“handprint” and “Bucky.” Y/N told Bucky to turn around, and she realized right
away why they were laughing. There were flour handprints all over the back of
Bucky’s black shirt, as well as a perfect flour handprint on the ass of Bucky’s
jeans, obvious indicators of the make-out session they just had in the kitchen.
Y/N couldn’t help but giggle as she explained to Bucky why he was the butt of
“Don’t you DARE sit on the furniture like that! Either of
you!” shouted Tony from the other side of the room. Steve and Nat volunteered
to clean the kitchen as a thank you for all of the goodies, and Y/N and Bucky
accepted their offer. They each went back to their rooms to change and wash the
flour off of their hands, and met back up in the lounge. They snuggled next to
each other on one of the couches, each with a warm cookie in hand. “So, what
movie are we watching?” Y/N asked. Sam cleared his throat and jokingly said “We
figured we’d pop in one of the ‘Harry Potter’ movies and slowly fall into
diabetic comas from all of the sugar you fed us today.” “Sounds good to me.”
replied Y/N. Wanda put the movie in, and halfway through ‘Harry Potter and the
Chamber of Secrets” everyone fell asleep, tummies full.
Y/N woke up as the credits were rolling. She was snuggled cozily
in Bucky’s strong arms and looked up to see him smiling at her. “How long have
you been watching me sleep, you little creeper?” she said teasingly. “Not long,”
he replied. “It’s just that you always look so peaceful when you’re sleeping.
You are so beautiful, Y/N.” Y/N
rolled her eyes and said “C’mon Buck, you don’t have to lie to me. My face
looks like I was hit by a train. I know the bruises are bad—you don’t have to
try to make me feel better about it.” He looked at her with a confused expression
on his face and said “Y/N, I’m not lying. I would think you were beautiful if
you were bright green with orange polka dots. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve
ever seen, bruise or not, and I love you with all my heart.” He planted a
gentle kiss on her forehead as a sweet smile grew on her face. “Bucky, you’re the
best. I love you, too.” She then nuzzled her face into his chest and drifted
back to sleep.
The next morning, Y/N and Bucky woke up on the couch. The rest
of the team was gone except for Sam, who was hovering over the dessert table
shoving cookies into his mouth. “Isn’t it a little early for sweets, Sam?” Y/N
asked with a giggle. “Hey,” Sam replied in all seriousness, “these cookies have
raisins. Raisins come from grapes. Grapes are a fruit, and fruit is breakfast,
so no, it isn’t too early for sweets.
Now quit hogging the couch—there’s a ‘Jurassic Park’ marathon on today and I
wanna be comfy.” Bucky turned to Y/N and said “Well, Sweetheart, that’s
probably our cue to get up.” The two of them got up off the couch and dragged
themselves to the kitchen, where they ate breakfast and laughed together
whenever they heard Sam yelling at the TV about velociraptors.
The Reader Project #2 (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)
Au: The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion (kinda)
Summary: Lin, a 37-year-old single successful actor and playwright who has had no real success in romantic relationships, creates a checklist to be filled out by any and all interested bachelorettes in effort to find the perfect girl for him to silence his mother’s nagging for Lin to find love and to provide her with grandchildren. Reader works in a bar in Midtown Manhattan while getting her Master of Music from Juilliard.
Coaxing Phillipa Soo into giving any valuable advice regarding relationships was like trying to lick your elbow, almost impossible. It wasn’t that she wasn’t willing to give advice, she was more than willing to butt herself into anyone and everyone’s personal life, but, she refused to share any of her wisdom before Lin told her, in great detail, his situation and answered any and all questions she had (which was always a lot).
A/N: Sorry it’s been a few days! I had a Bio Lab final Monday and an OChem test tomorrow so I’ve been a little busy but here is the next part. I’ll get more into their relationship eventually, I swear!
Word count: 2284
Warnings: I don’t think there are any for this except language, as per the usual.
“So, are you going to tell me what we’re doing now?” she asks impatiently, shooting him a glare as she climbed into his car.
Of course, like a gentleman, he had opened the door for her and shut it after she was settled.
But that didn’t make up for the fact that he had withheld their date plans for hours and wouldn’t even give her a hint.
“We’re about to go for a drive,” he winks at her as he slips into the driver’s seat of his car.
“No, I thought we’d go horseback riding,” she rolls her eyes.
She vehemently hated being kept in the dark about situations that involved her. That was the whole reason she became a scientist, so that she could learn about things and how they pertained to her own life.
So that she could see how one life affected another, even in the tiniest of ways.
“You’re pretty sassy when you don’t get what you want,” he states with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s not…” she sighs and makes a face. “I just don’t like not knowing things. I like to know what’s going on. I like to have a plan.”
“Trust me, Sweetheart,” he says, resting his hand on her knee gently. “It’s not something you’ve done before.”
“And not super cheesy?” she checks, raising an eyebrow at him as he drove.
“Not super cheesy,” he agrees with a nod. “Like nothing you’ve done before.”
“I swear if you take me to something I have done I’m gonna scream,” she tells him, and he gives a small laugh.
“Well, I don’t think it’s something you’ve done before. Unless you’re weird,” he shoots her a wink as he squeezes her knee and then moves his hand back to the steering wheel.
“Well, if you tell me what it is we’re doing, I’ll let you know,” she offers, and he shakes his head with a coy smile.
“Just calm down, we’re already here,” he says, putting the car into park before looking to her.
“This is a park,” she states, looking to him confusedly. “I thought you said this wasn’t cheesy?”
“It’s not,” he defends.
“And you’re not going to pull a picnic basket out of your trunk, huh?” she asks with a grin on her lips.
“Oh ye of so little faith,” he opens his door and makes his way around to hers. She climbs out after he opens the door, watching him curiously.
“People watching,” he finally admits, and she cocks her head to the side. “It’s not cheesy and it’s something different. It’s the best I could think of.”
“Like sit on a bench and watch people,” she checks, slightly grinning as he seemed to grow slightly nervous.
“And judge them. Give them backstories and kick ass lives,” he states, smiling as she reached out for his hand.
“I love silently judging people,” she winks as he leads her down the trail through the park to a little bench under a tree.
She has the perfect view of the little duck pond a few hundred feet away, and the small hill with mothers chatting it up while their children play with an inflated ball. There are several people walking all breeds of dogs, and one with a bunny on a leash.
She has to stifle a giggle at the young woman, who has a snobbish air about her as though she looked down on other for having such a domestic animal as a dog.
“That one,” she points to the woman with the bunny. “Her name is probably Barbara. She’s a rich widow with no time or patience for children, so she has pet rabbits that she walks in the park. She looks down on commoners with no money.”
“They never could prove that her husband’s death was a murder,” Dean winks at her, and she feels her cheeks warm as he played along. “How about her?”
He points to a young mom who is chasing around her child.
“Looks like a Janet to me,” she states, giving the blonde haired woman a once over.
“Janet probably married young in life,” Dean states, leaning closer to her. “And then she sacrificed her husband to the Dark Lord and her kid doesn’t know any better. Janet looks innocent, but she probably drinks kitten blood for fun.”
She cracks up at his assessment, elbowing him in the ribs.
He rubs where she hit him, shooting her a pout. She makes a face at him and starts to look for her next target.
“That guy? His name is something like Joseph van Winkle the Third,” she points to a scrawny looking teenager sitting against a tree while scowling at everyone who passed him. “He can read minds, and that’s why he looks so mad. Everyone has terrible ideas for life and he can hear them all. Poor guy.”
“Joseph van Winkle?” Dean asks with a snort.
“The Third,” she finishes for him with a nod. “He probably gets offended if you leave off the Third part.”
“Seems like it,” Dean nods. “See? Isn’t this nice?”
“It is pretty fun,” she admits, laying her head on his shoulder. “And sort of sweet, but not in the cheesy way.”
“I never knew cheese could be sweet anyways,” he says, giving her a coy grin when she looked up to him.
“I meant sweet like you’re sitting here judging people with me,” she mutters, shaking her head. “How about him?”
She points to a very large man walking a small poodle.
“Looks like a Dwayne to me,” Dean murmurs, slipping his hand around her waist subtly. “He works out six days a week so he can make those weird videos jumping over stuff.”
“Parkour?” she checks, laughing.
“Yeah, that thing,” he nods.
“Really? He looks like he does ballet in his free time and by the looks of those calf muscles, he’s amazing at it,” she states. “That or he’s a stunt double for some Hollywood movies. Hard to tell.”
“I could see that,” he grins.
“Wait did you name him Dwayne because he looks like The Rock?” she asks suddenly, shooting him a knowing expression. He rolls his eyes and she shoots up. “You did!”
“He’s a big guy, The Rock is a big guy,” he explains defensively.
“Dude, I had the biggest crush on The Rock when I was a teenager,” she admits to Dean with a dreamy sigh. “I’d call him Daddy if he told me to.”
“That is disgusting,” Dean shudders.
“Awe, no Daddy kink for you?” she laughs as he shudders again.
“No, I had a really bad experience once with some guy named Chief. He thought I was gay,” Dean explains, closing his eyes as a chill ran up his spine.
“Are you gay?” she asks, looking up to him.
“You be the judge of that, Sweetheart,” he states with a raised eyebrow.
“Hm… Am I a beard, Mr. Winchester?” she asks, sitting up quickly. “Do you have a scandalous man on the side?”
“God, you’re weird,” he shakes his head. “No, I’m not gay. Do I look gay?”
“I mean, gay people look just like straight people,” she shrugs, her eyes watching him mischievously. “But I don’t think you are.”
“Good assessment,” he says, quirking a half smile. “How about her?”
He points to a woman that really stands out with bright blue hair and a polka dotted dress. She’s feeding the birds in the pond with some bread, cooing to them quietly.
“Hm, she’s kinda hard to place,” she murmurs quietly. “She looks like what I imagine a Mary to be.”
She feels Dean stiffen beside her, and she looks over quickly.
“Did I say something?” she asks, watching the hardened expression in his eyes.
“No, ah,” Dean clears his throat and looks away. “My mother’s name was Mary.”
“Oh my God,” she gasps, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No, it’s okay,” he mutters, and she tilts her head slightly around to look at him.
“I’m really sorry, Dean,” she repeats, taking his hand into hers.
“It’s okay, really,” he looks up to her eyes, holding them. The underlying sadness in his gaze makes her frown. “She died when I was little.”
“How?” she returns, sliding her thumb over his knuckles carefully as she angled her body toward his.
“There was a fire in our house,” he answers softly, and she reaches up to cup his cheek with her free hand. “My dad, brother, and I got out. My mom didn’t.”
“That’s why you’re a firefighter,” she says, and he nods slowly. “Oh, Dean.”
She curls her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, not caring that they were on a public park bench where several people could see them.
His arms slide around her waist, his face nosing into her neck until he was tucked into the space between her jaw and shoulder.
She reaches up and slides a hand through his hair, scratching lightly as she placed herself on his lap.
It’s a bit awkward, the way she’s sitting on his lap with both legs thrown over one side of his. But she doesn’t mind, not when she can hold him like this.
“I can go months without missing her if I just don’t think about her. But then someone will say something and it all just comes rushing in,” he explains as he lifts his head slowly.
“That’s not good, Dean,” she murmurs. “That’s not healthy. You should be able to mourn and then move on.”
“You expect me to move on after my mother died?” he snaps, shooting her a glare.
“That’s not what I meant,” she says softly.
“It’s what you said,” he retorts, slipping his arms away from her waist. Taking the memo, she rights herself back on the bench. “You think I should just forget about her.”
“I meant that you should move on with your life, not forget about her completely,” she returns in a calm voice. “Yes, you can miss her, and yes it will hurt sometimes, but you shouldn’t lock up when you hear her name, especially if she died when you were a child.”
“You’ve never lost someone you loved, have you?” his voice is hard, and she bites her bottom lip as she looks away. “I thought so. You don’t just let someone go. Especially not your mother.”
“I know that,” she tries to explain. “You don’t let them go, but you have to stop mourning at some point, Dean. You have to keep going with your life.”
“I am,” he says quietly. “I do my job, I go out to bars. Hell, I even go on a date every once in a while.”
“I just…” she sighs heavily. “I feel like maybe you haven’t fully moved on. And I’m not going to push it anymore because this is really dampening the first date mood, but…”
She reaches up to his chin and tilts his face to hers.
“…Dean, if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” she says, and his eyes soften slightly. “I don’t know a lot about you, but I know that I feel a lot for you, more than I’ve felt in a long time. So if you ever need anything, I’m here for you, okay?”
“Okay,” he nods, and she offers him a small smile that he barely returns.
“So anyways,” she changes her tone and perks up immediately, trying to cheer him up some from the gloomy talk they just had. “How about that little girl? What’s her story?”
He looks to the small black haired girl for a moment.
“She’s actually an alien from outer space, and she’s trying to learn our ways so that she can go back to the mothership and teach them how to hide among us,” he finally says.
The little girl looks up, her soft brown eyes catching Dean’s from across the park.
“Shit, she heard me,” Dean mutters, and she laughs as the little girl cocks her head to the side for a moment, staring him down.
“She’s gonna come after you first,” she murmurs, nudging Dean’s side.
“She’s still staring,” Dean mutters, looking away from the little girl. “It’s getting creepy.”
“You’re the one that wanted to come people watch,” she shrugs. “If she scares you so much, we could go get some food.”
“I’m not scared,” he scoffs. “Just a little weirded out. Little girl looks like she wants to gank me.”
“Gank?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, she wants to…” he trails off and makes a motion like his neck is slit, “…gank me.”
“You’re so weird,” she shakes her head. “But seriously, I’m kinda hungry. Can we get some food?”
“Sure, do you have anywhere you want to go?” he asks.
“How about burgers? I want a juicy grease trap that will clog my arteries,” she states, looking at him with a grin.
“Marry me,” he says suddenly, his eyes wide.
“Maybe one day, Winchester. But first I want a burger,” she retorts, and he stands up quickly, a pep in his step as he extends his hand to her.
“Of course, Mrs. Winchester,” he winks as she takes his hand. Her cheeks flush pink.
“So this has been… Different,” she admits, looking up to him. “Not a first date I’ll forget any time soon.”
“If you wanted to, we could go do something else?” he offers, and she looks up to him with a grin as they make it to his car.
“I’ll take you up on that. How about a bar?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.
Summary: Jongin, the son of a wealthy CEO, and a few of his friends end up interning at the company of an attractive young businesswoman’s company, and you don’t mind having him visit your office occasionally.
Here’s my Curvy Polka Dot Fun Fashionista with Wonder Woman forearms, liv doll hands and a whole lotta tattoos to hide the mismatch. I honestly wasn’t going to get this doll but someone said she matched Wonder Woman so I figured I’d buy one to cut up and splice Wonder Woman parts onto her.
But apparently she doesn’t match Wonder Woman or ANY of my parts I have but I really wanted to try this combination so I forged ahead, hoping the mismatch wouldn’t be so bad. But it was and I regretted it.
But @dollsahoy suggested tattoos and I thought that was great cuz if I was going to change the surface of the forearms I wanted it to be something I wanted to show off rather than trying to hide and risk chipping paint or sealer.
I used the leftover tattoos that I didnt use for Kal, my Superman, so these are way less cohesive and nice looking but they do the job of hiding the mismatch.