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i like baby pink

[nouearth]

an internship at wayne interprises. (part ii)

bruce wayne x male reader headcanons

part i.

warnings: smut, age gap, bottom reader, breeding, virgin!reader, top!bruce, established relationship, lowkey kind of fluffy, bruce is falling in love.

a/n: aaaand it's finally here! i hope you all enjoy the long awaited part two! i was watching american psycho recently and bruh, i forgot how hot he looked in it. like. i want to run my tongue all over him.

—as intimidating as bruce was, he never found the courage, or time really, to isolate you from your responsibilities.

—was it cowardliness that he was faced with? or was it that returning feeling that churned in his stomach, swelled in his chest, until it made him rethink the thoughts he’s had of you?

—guilt. he never felt it when he was jerking off to your pictures, which have become a daily routine now. 

—but it returned in powerful marches, ached at the center of his heart, ridiculing him for thinking about his employee in such a crude, exploitive way.

—he always felt it when he saw you first thing in the morning, working quietly, mindlessly as your body had begun to become used to the caffeine.

—like wind chimes, you moved around people - around the wind - not with them, as you made your way to the break room. 

—three packets of sugar and two spoons of creamer normally kept you awake, but the frozen pocket pizza in the toaster oven was the real source of your energy. 

—bruce winced as he silently watched you from afar. you yawned, rubbed your eyes as the heat from the toaster oven warmed the surrounding area.

—jesus, no wonder you’re always so tired. look at the shit you’re eating.

—the march of soldiers, rioting against guilt, roared, and he was reminded of his privilege immediately after. a butler that had been providing him three nutritious meals a day since birth, and a garden of wealth that allowed him to afford a home gym with the best equipment; it was all handed to him and while he did his best to give back to the city, it was never enough to pacify the war zone of his chest. he was a person, a wealthy person, but a person nonetheless.

—you were a person.

—though ironically enough, he came to the the image of you hungrily licking the grease off your fingers when you were finished with breakfast later that night.

—there was always something new about you that he would fixate on when his hand met his cock, stroking it with a glorious amount of lube until it dried. 

—though he never fretted, because your lips, your face, your nose - everything about you - milked him until the fresh stock of cum had become the only slime that layered his softening erection.

—like bruce’s nights, you’ve begun infiltrating the routine of his mornings now.

—or rather, bruce began infiltrating yours after he visited you in the break room for the first time.

—good morning, mister wayne…

—oh, new intern, right? your name was…?

—he always feigned his disinterest because he liked hearing your name come out of your handsome mouth.

—(m/n), sir…

—it sounded beautiful. the softness of your voice kindled a tenderness in bruce and it could’ve cradled him to sleep had the coffee from the break room not been so disgusting and cheap.

—the third time, he memorized the pattern you spoke in. your voice always trailed off at the end of a sentence as if it had been stolen by a criminal.

—it’s (m/n), sir…

—he wished he could be that somebody.

—the fifth time, he’d gotten used to the watery aftertaste of the coffee.

—wait, don’t tell me. your name rhymes with…

—and when you laughed because bruce was completely off by a mile, he saw a glimpse of your soul that had been sheltered by intimidation and anxiety.

—he learned he wanted to become a part of your life when he took you out for lunch.

—long overdue, but i usually take my interns out for lunch.

—bruce usually didn’t.

—oh—mister wayne, i don’t think that’s necessary… i already packed lunch.

—great! you don’t have to pack for tomorrow then.

—wait, but i haven’t set up the meeting with—

—i’ll get someone on it—already made reservations, c’mon.

—he’d learned so much about you that day, then the following, and the next; your upbringing, your hopes and dreams, your downfalls, it felt like he was walking on water with the way you willingly opened more of yourself every consecutive day.

—he could listen to you talk for hours, become poisoned by it if your voice was liquid, and bruce accepted that risk when he made another routine to invite you for lunch.

—previous nights were as followed: he stroked his cock to you, breathing heavily into the memory of your cologne, the wrinkles of your shirt, the curl of your lips when he made a joke.

—since he’d gotten to know you as more than a stained selfie, more than the meek statue that stood in the corner; instead of feeding himself with the thoughts of you that derived from pure lust, the reality of his nights had shifted.

—he stroked himself, that never changed. but he closed his eyes, breathing until he could see the ghost of you by his side.

—your shared bodies tensed into one another as his body curved forward into the arc of your back when he pushed in for the first time. you reached back to hold his thigh, pausing his thrusts because you needed to adjust, because you wanted to feel all of him in complete comfort.

—it was intimacy.

—it only melted - your body - when bruce kissed the shell of your ear, telling you that he’ll continue once you were ready. you let him in, sprouted for him like a bud in spring, and felt all of him swell larger inside of you with a whimper.

—it was vulnerability.

—he made sure you were touched, palming your erection as he rocked his own into your bud. from the nape of your neck to the hill of your back, he blessed you in the wet of his mouth, battling the sweat that had gathered on your body to see who would claim the vacancy of your body.

—he made sure to make you feel safe, drowning you in affection with his low voice, with the bridge that had constructed between your soul and his as he thrusted deeper, connected into you when he pressed into a spot that had the heavy air memorize every letter of bruce’s name.

—and finally crossed when he filled you with all of his endearment towards you, heavy and thick in combative sequence. he never pulled away in fret of losing the sentiment—in fret of losing you. 

—it was love.

—from then on, bruce was devoted to melt the frost that had shielded you, just as you had melted his.

—because he was going to protect you now.

—the guilt that had been egging the shelter of his heart wilted in the pit of his stomach when he kissed you for the first time.

—and then completely died when you kissed him back. 

—your arms were around his neck, and his were around your waist. you and bruce slow danced to the tune of his favorite song, in the middle of his living room, and so did your lips when he leaned in again.

—it never progressed further than that, despite the ache in bruce’s pants yelling at him to. he wanted to savor every moment with you, in case he happened to chase you away like he did with the others.

—you were special, and bruce held you like the rarest gem on earth for the first time that night.

—again, when he visited you in mornings to drive you to work.

—again, on nights where you were too tired to drive back to your apartment.

—again, after morning meetings were over and every businessmen and women left the vicinity upon the announcement of food catering a few floors down.

—and then again, when bruce’s thoughts had become a reality.

—b-bruce, ngh…

—you reached back to his thigh like in his thoughts, carefully maneuvering and pacing his thrusts into you. your breath stained deep into the cover of his pillow when bruce applied his weight into you, fitting his broad body to the dip of your back.

—i got you, hm? —nice and slow…

—his voice tickled your nape, soothing it with chaste kisses when your muscles tensed, and you breathed harder into the pillow when you let his thigh go, freeing him to do as he pleased. the warmth of your breath fogged your skin as his girth opened you to a profound feeling you’ve been too intimidated to discover

—faster, please…

—he was humored, not because you were embarrassing like the flush of your skin thought, but because you were still the same person he’d met months ago, appeased by it. you were calmed by an assurance, a kiss to your shoulder then your lips, yet your body only continued to bloom with roses. 

—you’re still so polite even when we’ve done so many things together…

—bruce pressed deeper into you, panting in your ear as he delivered on your timid demands. he knew you now—read you like a book. you were too afraid to ask for anything despite becoming so vulnerable with each other, and he made sure that you were safe with him.

—your requests were silent sans the moans that have escaped, but he heard every single one of them. his hips drove into you harder for a few rhythms, then excruciating slower to coerce a plea out of you—to pull your beautiful moans along with desperation.

—he wanted to hear you, pulling himself completely out of your bud.

—f-fuuuuck, bruce! please—i need you, please.

—more, he needed to hear you want him as much as he’d been wanting you. his arms wrapped around your waist, and his fingers curled over your cock. it provided a friction, a hole for you to press into as his fist was sandwiched between your body and the bed, and you took the opportunity to desperately thrust into it.

—secretly, you’d hope to thrust yourself back onto his cock.

—but again, he knew you; silently observant and logical, and he raised his hips back, avoiding the desperate grinds of your bottom.

—how badly do you need me, hm? —how bad do you want me?

—bruce needed to hear it, to compel a truth to his prophecy. his hand unwrapped around you and you were left desperately grinding into the soft fabric of his sheets with a whine. they were music to his ears, and the drips of his cock dribbled over the curve of your bottom as if they were notes to a stave, to the sound of your torment.

—i-i need you, please…

—he exhaled.

—so bad.

—he gulped.

—so fucking bad…

—he throbbed.

—mister wayne… —please…

—bruce’s two worlds had collided: his previous thoughts of you rocketed into the current with a cloudy explosion, and he succumbed. you looked back at him with glassy orbs, sweat running down the side of your face, and bruce was overwhelmed by the beauty our deepest desires. how quickly it could destroy the barrier that we’ve built, how quickly he could destroy yours and unfurl your vulnerabilities when he finally drove himself back in one long and smooth thrust. 

—f-fuuuuck...

—it was continuous. you wouldn’t admit it, but he knew you preferred being filled like this. he notified the curl of your fingers, clutching at whatever you could to fulfill the aching need to grasp onto something.

—god—

—hard when bruce came down, but slow and affectionate when he pulled out. you felt every thick inch sliding in and out of you. at times, you would purposely tighten in fear of losing bruce, but his thrusts reminded you that you wouldn’t.

—bruce reminded you again when his lips suckled on your shoulder.

—i’m close, (m/n)…

—when his hand stroked your aching cock.

—m-me too…

—and when bruce pushed all of his sweaty weight onto you with one hard thrust.

—shit, shit—

—the boiling feeling in his stomach unfurled inside of you to release his devotion in heavy, white loads. they filled you with heat, spreading thick within you as bruce slowly rocked himself weakly, squeezing every ounce of his love into you until you could feel it yourself.

—bruce—

—your eyes rolled back and you could feel the thick of his cum dripping out of you and down your legs the more he plunged into your hole, and it didn’t take very long for you to come undone yourself. the seam of your mouth kept your moans contained as you blasted bruce’s fist and the sheets with your affection, and it wasn’t until his hand came down to pump you that you exhaled a staggered, breathless groan. the drips came out heavy, sticky, and you rocked into bruce’s fist until they spread themselves thin onto your pelvis, over your cock, and stained deep into the sheets.

—as you both lay breathless, bruce remained on top, puzzled into you as he found comfort in your muscles loosening like the flaccid of your length. he continued playing with your soft flesh, squeezing and spreading the layer of seed that covered his hand, and chuckled when you silently squirmed. 

—not away from him like he’d thought, but back into him.

—because he was your guardian now.

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[nouearth]

the black cat and the mysterious nightwing.

pairing ; dick grayson x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, nightwing. word count ; 2148. genre; angst. rating ; pg-13. warnings ; blood, depictions of violence, bone-breaking, head trauma, physical fighting, verbal arguing, flirty banter, blackcat!malereader. notes ; i tried my best doing a blackcat!reader. i gotta admit, i don't know much about the character, so i just did my own little spin on it! req ; anonymous.

“don’t you think,” you scrambled to your feet, but caught yourself with a lunge before picking your hands out of the dust to charge at your opponent with vigorous speed. the sensor in your gloves triggered your metal claws to come out and you attacked with the intent to mark the masked man—not to wound, but to warn him off. “we would make a great couple? i’d happily sell my persona if it meant that ‘the black cat and the mysterious nightwing’ gets turned into a film and made billions at the box office.”

“you know,” nightwing blocked every swipe of your claws except for one to the face—a nick. the fresh cut on his cheek stung when it caught the cold breeze, but he’s too quick on his feet for you to notice the blood. he then circled around you with his escrima sticks drawn out, huffing. like your opponent, you followed back in his steps in defense, facing him as your senses were on high-alert from the advent of his signature weapons. the last time you were tased with them, you were sent to the ground, feeling tremors days later—they weren’t exactly the highlight of your interactions with him. “i’m the one bringing the audience in, right? flip the order of our names and it’s a maybe!”

“and haven’t i told you that i’m taken?” he continued, stalking you in a circle like a predator with its prey—an eagle with its cat.

“huh...” you thought to yourself out loud, eyeing the rooftop environment around you for a brief moment. cardboard boxes, plastic bags, cigarette butts, candy wrappers—nothing you could use to your advantage. “never thought you’d be the loyal type.”

“what?! you’re kidding, right?” nightwing interrupted the banter by charging at you again and you leaped to the side to dodge the first, but your back eventually caught the stick when he swung his right arm. he hopped back in defense, watching you gather yourself in a hunch, groaning.

“I mean, fuck-“ you tasted the wind that was knocked out of you, chapped and dry, and it all made the taste of metal more profound in your mouth. “with that body? no way. i can only imagine what’s underneath.”

“I’m flattered!” as he rushed towards you, nightwing swung a powerful right, a heavy grunt paired alongside. you evaded with a flip and another with an arm-block, but the impact knocked you back onto the concrete floor. your padded uniform took the brunt of the contact, but not your exhaustion. you were almost at your limit, panting and grunting heavily as you continued to dodge his onslaught of thwicks and whams at your chest and sides, beat after beat to the best of your ability. he was fast, always been faster than you, and he showed no signs of slowing.

“you have no reason even stealing from bruce wayne. come on,” the man meandered towards you, arrogance in every step while he stretched the tight muscles in his arms and back. “give it up. i won’t tell him, and i’ll even get you offscot-free.”

“you’re too handsome for me to send you to jail.” he said, half-earnestly.

despite assuming full responsibility of blüdhaven, and occasionally, gotham, his personality never diverged from his regular civilian-self: confident, playful, optimistic, and much more, but that was what you loved most about dick grayson. he was always himself.

you watched him slowly approach, elbows scuffed and planted to the ground as it supported your bruised body. he lent a hand down to you—gentlemanly. 

“hm… so you do find me handsome.” you grasped his hand and he began to pull you up, naive and trusting. “i got a chance then?” 

but you pulled him downwards instead, met your foot with his gut, and one strong kick tumbled him to the floor. “i’m still up for you getting me off, though!”

the distance between the two of you was larger than expected. he was going to chase after you no matter what—he’s done it before. the mental clock inside of your head was ticking as you watched him writhe, catching his breath. worry ignited, but it ticked— continue ticking until he found his footing, and you made a run for the ledge. your thrown backpack that harbored the stolen item resided in the nearest corner and your arm extended, reaching whatever you could grasp onto in midst of your flee.

but your palm held nothing—only cold warmth when you gathered air into a tight fist—as nightwing rammed you onto the floor with all of his body weight, skidding you near the ledge. your head hung off the edge as you blindly bore his swings to your hips and waist with a groan louder than the next, a bruise stacked on top of another. “fuck!”

the familiarity of gotham became foreign as half of your body dangled off the ledge—apartment buildings emerged from skies and the moon rose from seas—and it didn’t help that your opponent was weakening you with every guttural punch, drawing out hard groans from your throat.

“one last chance, cat. this has been fun and all, but i’m kind of getting sick of your schtick.” nightwing grabbed you by the shoulders and yanked you back up.

but something in the wind caught your eye—something black, something familiar. you turned your head, groaning when the muscles in your neck have stiffened in the mere moments it vacationed on the ledge, and a gasped left your hot throat.

your mask. 

“is that a yes?!” dick shouted, hands still clutched onto your shoulders while your cheek was still turned toward him, watching the mask ride the wind through gotham.

the air cooled your exposed skin, bruises and cuts melting with every breeze, and you were hesitant to turn, to respond. but dick was frustrated now and began pressing a knee to your bruised gut to warrant a glance of any kind—he can tell you were close to surrendering. 

you do.

you bit back a pained scream and turned towards him; nightwing, dick, your boyfriend of two years. the frustration and annoyance in his face soon wrinkled into shock, confusion, then betrayal.

but he feigned normalcy; you could tell by the waver in his voice and the twisting of expressions between artificial calmness and deception.

“what- what is this?” he stepped back once he let you go, lying. “you’re just a regular dude-“

“i can explain,“ you coughed out, blinking the etched image of dick’s betrayal away—a desperate attempt. there was no lying your way out of this anymore. years of being untruthful regarding the wounds he unknowingly left on you, nights you disappeared into; it has all accumulated into this very moment—karma. “dick-“

“no-“ dick twitched at the sound of his name. it resounded from a familiar voice—a voice that he would yearn to hear every morning and night, a voice that he has loved since day one, a voice that wouldn’t have held secrets. “you knew? you fucking knew about me—about all of this the whole time?! what the fuck, y/n?”

“dick, I never meant for it to get this far.” you said, getting up with sluggish movements. “i was just- fuck, uh.” you stammered and your thoughts clouded. 

what were you doing this for? it started off with wanting vengeance for your mother, then it amassed into wealth, then… then? 

what else was there left in this second life of yours that you needed to fulfill?

“seriously? cat got your tongue, or what?” he walked towards you, pointing one of his sticks at you, intimidating. “you can’t even give me a reason?”

“calm down, okay? i can’t exactly think when you probably broke my fucking ribs-“ you spat bitterly. not the best time to be annoyed at him, but you’ve always been quick to anger.

“wow, okay… maybe, i don’t know—if you would’ve told me about all of this earlier then we wouldn’t be in this position right now!“ dick’s powerful voice shouted, and you flinched when he pressed his weapon to your chest.

“okay- why are you even angry about this? it’s not like i robbed you!” you shouted back, leaning your chest forward until the butt of it pressed into your bruise. it was painful, but your jaw tightened to hold your anger.

“you kinda did considering it’s from the manor i grew up in.“ he scoffed, irritating you further with multiple pokes to your chest. “you lied to me, stole from my family. you seriously think that’s okay? after everything i told you?”

you didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. though it was only a coincidence that you and dick happened to fall in love; you kept this charade up and toyed with his alter-ego despite knowing who he was. stealing from a billionaire sounded great on paper—if only you never knew dick grayson, but his alias instead.

“I trusted you.” his voice softened—hurt and disappointed—as he stared into your eyes, and you could feel guilt swimming in your gut. “i don’t even know if this is all real—us, y/n.”

but you’ve never been one to face the consequences of your own action.

“here,” you limped to fetch your backpack, and dick instinctively followed you in case you were to escape again. “take it.” you handed a jewelry box to dick. the valuable wasn’t worth it anymore, even if it meant it would make you a millionaire. right now, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep your injuries off.

maybe even rethink your purpose on earth.

“so, just like that?” dick’s voice began to hollow as you walked away from him, nearing the ledge. “no apologies? not even going to look at me?”

“that’s the plan.” you muttered to yourself defeated, strapping yourself to your backpack, and before dick could say another word, parachuted yourself into the night. “always the plan.”

that was all you could think about as you writhed on the ground, dazed from the multiple beatings to your head and body. 

it was a burglary gone wrong. since you’ve last seen dick, you became sloppy. heists were done with aimless drive; not for your own gain, but out of pure spite because you’ve lost the best thing you had in your life, all because you were stubborn—a coward. 

stubbornness has done nothing but led you into a downward spiral of life, and now, you were at its very last step. you thought you broke that spiral by giving back to the community—donating to charities that you were passionate about, that needed the wealth that you profited off the most. 

but instead, you envisioned yourself banging on heaven’s door, gasping and screaming in pain as you begged.

a wheeze was knocked out of you once more when you took another crowbar to the gut. the taste of metal in your mouth became your comfort—you weren’t dead yet. close—soon.

you moved, but barely, crawling to a void you were sure you’d be left dead at, with nobody to witness the final breath you would draw. it was an amusing image for the henchmen. the trauma to your head muffled the demonic laughter of the predator, but it induced another cycle of ringing in your ears—you whimpered. you could feel yourself breaking into tears at any moment—if you even had the strength to. 

when the henchmen pushed his heel onto your broken hand—hard—you knew it was over. excruciating pain sent your body into tremors and you halted to break out into a cowardly sob.

your begs for him to stop fell on empty ears and he only dug deeper, until you could both hear a snap—a wail. 

heaviness slowly fell on your eyelids and you became numb, lolling your head to the side for comfort as a sudden relief on your hands and body washed over you. pain throbbed in silence, soft whimpers like yours, and it would become your lullaby as you mindlessly watched—half-lidded—a shadow in pursuit of vengeance. it was a recognizable thrill upon memorizing the swing of his arms, the dance of his feet as it dodged, flipping and twirling, until it was victorious.

you expected a warrior, running to you with triumph, present to reclaim its prize. but instead, you were met with panic, heavy anxiety as you were lifted off the ground and immediately cradled into a pair of familiar strong arms. 

“you’re okay,” dick was disturbed, anxious in every motion of his hand, but he mustered the courage to gather you close, sprinting far from your death bed. you could only respond in hums, weakly curling into the warmth you longed for as the breeze cooled your injuries.

“you’re going to be okay.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works.

[fy-taebin-blog]

MYTEEN 1st MINI ALBUM RELEASE  DEBUT PROMOTION SCHEDULE 07/26 WED. 

[dreamtwt]

taebin’s adventure in japan ♡

[xi-heon]

if taevin had an ig while he was in japan

[fy-taebin-blog]

[!] MYTEEN confirms debut on July 26

MYTEEN will showcase a variety of the seven members’ cheerful, lively and charming image through their debut album.

source

[fy-taebin-blog]

170618 Taebin - J Route CF

[fy-taebin-blog]

MYTEEN's Taebin, a cf model before his debut!

MYTEEN, the first boy group from Music Works, which houses Baek Ji-young, Gong Minzy, Yoo Sung Eun, and Kim Sohee, is selected as an advertising model.

Although Taebin hasn’t made his debut with MYTEEN yet, he recently announced his start as an advertising model. 

He is shooting his first commercial overseas and details of his future ads will be revealed soon. 

“I am very nervous because it’s my first commercial, but on the other hand, I am very excited. It is my first time, but I’m doing my best, please be very interested with open arms.” He also said, “I am preparing myself so that I can meet with MYTEEN soon.”

MYTEEN is in full swing to prepare for their debut this summer.

source

[fyeahmyteen]

© Mint Sherbet🌿 ✩ do not edit

[fy-taebin-blog]

[!!!] Just a few more till we reach 400%

Fellow MYTEEN stans! We’ve been stuck at 390.73% on our funding goal for at least two weeks now and there’s still one more month to pledge and become a backer! Let’s support our boys and spread this around so we can achieve our stretch goal of 400%. We’ve worked really hard to reach our funding goal, but let’s not stop there!

Become a Star Maker here!

[fy-taebin-blog]

[fy-taebin-blog]

[fy-taebin-blog]

[fy-taebin-blog]

MYTEEN GO! Episode 6 (RAW) will update with english subs when available!

[dreamtwt]

prince junseob eating ♡

[paboland]

 act.2 narcissus 1/9

[fy-taebin-blog]

[INFO] MYTEEN officially opens their debut project!

Our goal is 6,022.02 and we’re already 38% there! It’s an all or nothing type of project, so the rewards will only be received if we reach the goal! Let’s attempt to surpass the funding goal for the boys!

Funding period is from 1/31 to 3/31 The shipping date will be around April

Be a pledger here