#if you recognize his outfit. no you don't /silly

[birdboy-blues]

ngl I couldn't think of anything cool for today's prompt so. Mr. Mind

[cold-neon-ocean]

Posting this by itself because :) I just feel like he should have gotten to wear the mech pilot suit at least once..

(my AU black version and the og green)

[bbokicidal]

"What is That?" | SKZ | [B.C.]

Notes: Based off of the selfies Chris has sent on bubble in the last few days after their Tokyo concerts - and how he said he acquired the Wolfchan hat. ;]

Warnings: None Genre: Fluff Pairing: Bangchan x Reader Word Count: 900

"...Christopher." The speed at which your boyfriend whips around to face you seems like it should've given the poor man a broken neck. With his cheeks full of sandwich and the food itself tucked into his hands near his chest, dark eyes stare in circular saucers at where you stand in the living room. "What is that?"

"Babe!" He peeps, the word muffled with his mouthful of ham and cheese. "I thought you went out with a few friends for lunch, so I made myself a sandwich." Chris' eyes fall to his hands before he decides to carefully set the food on a small plate lingering on the island.

Your brow cocks in interest. "I wasn't talking about the sandwich."

Wide eyes blinking in confusion, the two of you hold eye contact for a good few moments before his head tips curiously as if asking what you were referring to. Your hand lifts to your temple, the tip of your index finger slowly tapping along your hair. As he swallows down his food, Chris lifts a hand to mimic the action but pauses when he feels something soft that definitely is not his hair.

He realizes then that you were talking about the hat currently tucking down his curls; Grey, fluffy - Wolfchan ears.

"Oh!"

A smile blossoms over your lips. Your arms cross over your chest as if waiting for an answer and your boyfriend doesn't hesitate in beginning to explain. "It's a hat I wore at the concert in Tokyo last weekend when we did our outfits SKZoo themed! Do you like it? Isn't it cute?~"

And you giggle, carefully shaking your head at just how adorable your boyfriend can be. Hard to believe he's the one taking his shirt off at every concert he performs in. "Very. But aren't those wardrobes for concerts only? How'd you get them to let you have it?"

The silence that follows - along with the way Chris' eyes slowly widen one more time - seems to give you the answer you were asking for.

"...Christopher."

Lips rolling in and pursing shortly after, he slumps forward a bit. "I stole it."

"That's what I thought." You chuckle, turning your back to him to continue folding the laundry you'd just taken from the dryer - You know, what you were doing before he decided to make his presence known. "It is very cute though. I can't blame you for taking it."

And with that, you think the conversation would be over. But Chris seems to recognize that there's something still lingering in the air - like words left unsaid floating just above your pretty little head. So he makes his way over until he can wrap his arms around you from behind, fingers teasingly squeezing at your sides. It was a feeling you'd never get tired of; Being cozied up in strong arms and giggling under wandering hands.

"Are you... jealous?"

His teasing accusation makes your shoulders bounce with laughter, and his head bobs along to the motion with his chin resting along the collar of your shirt. You can feel his breath fanning over your ear as he giggles out, "You're jealous I have a cute Wolfchan hat and youuuu don't.~"

Forcing your laughter down in your chest and pursing your lips although they still form a smile, you manage to shake your head. The towel in your hands folds neatly as you regain focus, confident in your words. "No, absolutely not. I'd never be jealous of a silly little hat."

"So..." Chris starts softly, beginning to sway behind you and smiling to himself when you join in on the sweet motion. "You wouldn't be excited if I told you I snagged an extra one for you, too...?"

You pause, dropping the towel down upon the stack already folded before turning to face him with curious eyes. Chris pops a brow and hums out, loosening his hold on you so his hands can rest comfortably along the small of your back. "Mm?"

"Is it also Wolfchan or is it a different character?"

A smile paints plump lips, your boyfriend stepping back so he could bend down and grab the black backpack leaning up against the couch you'd been folding laundry on. It unzips, the sight too beautiful to behold as he plucks out another grey beanie with Wolfchan ears - Yes, another one he secretly snagged just so you could match.

And with grinning, giggly expressions and rosy cheeks, the two of you take a few pictures cheek-to-cheek so he can have a new wallpaper for his phone. Yours too, of course. He also makes a note to send them to the group chat later on, met with the puking emoji from Minho almost immediately in response - then a thumbs up so he knew it was all in good fun.

Though seeing the pictures of the two of you in the group chat made Chris think. Maybe he could post them to Instagram, or send them on his Bubble. Maybe it was time to make things... publicly official.

It's a wandering, shy thought at first, unsure if it's a safe thing to do or if he'll be scolded for it by the company. But he decides it's the right time when he peeks over at you folding laundry still, now wearing the Wolfchan hat with the cute ears poking up from the top of your head.

Yeah. He definitely wanted the world to know you were his.

Tag List : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest @edit-me-prettyplease @butterflydemons @satosugu4l @jeonginsleftcheek

[pythonmoth]

more of cannibal!Simon bc im in love w him. @madsdawson you ask, and I shall deliver ♡

Simon wouldn't waste time and would prepare the best recipes with the spices you get him. he mixes them just perfectly so he can leave a little glass container in scene for you, knowing you'll take pretty pictures, and oh how he loves to see when you post them! ah, you're so silly.

he's getting a little bored of watching you from afar, a few steps ahead of you whenever you tried to meet him. but even then, you're never discouraged, always so happy to see the little treats he leaves for you, discreet notes telling you who what you're eating.

and then the curiosity gets to him.

one day when you're placing a little package of your favorite salted veggies on his porch so he can try them, the door opens and you nearly trip in your haste to step away. looking at him is just too much of a privilege! you wouldn't dare, not yet! but Simon's smiling down at you, his eyes glistening with amusement.

"I was expecting you. Come on in".

"This... is not our agreement" you mumble, but the excitement is just too much, so you follow him into his home.

it smells so nice, clean, filled with love and warmth; freshly baked bread and wine, the cologne you can recognize from the murder scenes dates, and garlic, so much garlic.

you aren't even dressed properly, gosh! You were just going home from work so now you're sweaty and unworthy of such delicacies, and it makes you pout.

but really, silly you, you don't have to worry about such things. Simon knew you were coming, he was following you this morning and has your routine memorized anyway, so he had a beautiful outfit prepared just for you. fits like a glove! (he's always closer than you think!

ah, to be sitting next to him, gorgeous and matching his silky shirt, and a feast in front of you! simon's spoiling you so much.

and when he hears you talk, listens to you as you tell him how you've been inspired, how you've been taking notes and that now you're able to identify the emotions the person was going through when he hunt them, simon's soooo touched.

obviously, he offers to teach you all he knows! but with one condition, only: you can't have anybody else in your life, or they'll be the next meal on your plate.

and so, you take out your notes and show him the list of things people close to you have done wrong so he can teach you identity which ones are only pigs ♡

› buy me a coffee ♡

[33forthew1n]

જ⁀➴ ♡young & in love જ⁀➴ ♡

🏎️❣️💙 2016! MV33/MV1 x reader 🏎️❣️💙

trope: strangers to lovers

SMAU- faceclaim: blonde girls on pinterest 👱🏼‍♀️

synopsis: it's max verstappen's first year in Formula One, but it's reader's time as a race guest. when max abruptly meets yn at the paddock, is it love at first sight for the two or just a one-time meeting?

WARNINGS: jos 🙄, one horner mention, swearing, oblivious boyfriend

author's note: first ever fic!!!! let me know how u like it in my inbox or by interacting :) tysm to @iamred-iamyellow for answering all my silly little qs 🫶

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max was just like any other teenager: he had crushes, dreams, friends, and too many responsibilities to count. well, except for one thing: he was motorsport's newest and youngest Formula One driver.

at 17, he debuted with a junior team and did....well, pretty damn well. so, the move up to the big league in the form of Red Bull Racing TAG Heur was no big surprise. he had been labelled a prodigy and future WDC even before obtaining his driver's license which unsurprisingly left him with a mountain of pressure to deal with. pressure that no teenage peer would ever truly understand. he had stopped trying to find commonalities in life experience and accepted that his circumstances were one in seven billion.

at the start of 2016, max had entered the season with one goal in mind: race and race so damn well that nobody could question the fastpaced nature of his driving career. this one-track mind approach also meant another thing: no girlfriends and no serious relationships. a serious relationship meant time, effort, and devotion he couldn't put into his racecraft; as his father so unkindly reminded him way too often for his liking. ₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

max's first gp with RB

maxverstappen33

Liked by danielricciardo, redbullned, and 298,999 others

maxverstappen33 First race with Red Bull. Happy with the car, but could have gotten more out of the car. Great weekend, thanks team. 💪

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danielricciardo Good race, mate. Excited for the future 💪🏎️

^ ❤️ by author

madmax3390 there's a reason why there's sm hype around him!! mad future WDC 🦁

user97370181 daniel outqualified and outraced LOL what a joke

maxdutchlion97 super effort!! ROTY

usernine i don't even get what the hype around him is....

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at the ripe age of ten, yn had decided that sebastian vettel was her all time favorite driver. it was a funny choice for the young girl to make because her dad was a fernando alonso stan and a diehard tifosi at the time. yet, young yn was awestruck at the navy blue car driven masterfully by vettel. ever since she saw him win his first WDC in 2010, yn had dreamt of going to her very first f1 grand prix.

after years of silently wishing that every christmas present and birthday gift was a gp ticket, yn finally got her wish for her 17th bday. it was a ticket to the spanish gp which meant that after her last final exam of the year was over, she'd be on a train to spain. "thank you so much, dad. seriously, i can't believe you kept this hidden for so long!!!", the teenager said in joy. "if i had known you'd be this happy, i would have shown you at christmas. you're welcome, dear." ⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

fast forward to the spanish grand prix:

yn was bouncing with excitement. after months of planning outfits and smoothing over details, the day had come! she was at her first grand prix; her wish come true. everything was bigger and louder than she could have ever imagined but oh so wonderful. every garage she had seen on TV was now in front of her very own eyes. while she was so busy staring at everything with wide eyes, someone in an obvious rush ran into her.

"oh- sorry. didn-", said the guy in question. "you're o-", said yn, stopping halfway through her words in surprise when she recognized the face of the guy who almost caused the wind to be knocked out of her. it was none other than her favorite team's newest driver: max verstappen. now she had three choices: a) frantically ask for a picture (as proof to show her dad who would never believe her if she told him of this moment), b) stare like an idiot and make them both feel terribly awkward, or c) pretend to not recognize him. "c-can i take a selfie with you?", she said, deciding that choice a was the one to pick.

"oh! yeah, sure.", max awkwardly answered.

"thanks, have a good race!", exclaimed yn, ready to tell her dad a story he wouldn't believe, until she heard a "wait! uhm-" from max.

"can i have your instagram? you know, so that you can send me the selfie-", the teenager made up on the spot. "oh!! yes, just a second!"

after exchanging ig handles, max joked to her, "have fun this weekend. good team kit choice, by the way." she laughed and replied, "yeah, guess i must have pretty good taste, huh. win the race, max. good luck out there."

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max hadn't ever been so starstuck by a girl. the only thing he could think of when he was in front of her was how beautiful and warm she seemed. just genuinely exhilerated for the race and to be at the track. "it's been a while since i've felt like that", thought the driver.

he'd been happily surprised when she gave him her ig handle, not really expecting her to say yes to his request. and so he typed out her username, hit follow, and looked at her latest post.

ynusername

Liked by yourbestfriend and 235 others

ynusername pretty in pink 💞🧁👯‍♀️ @yourbestfriend @otherfriend

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yourbestfriend prettiest girl in the 🌎 🥺

^❤️ by author

ynusername u? ☺️💞 DUH

otherfriend had the best time w u 😍 lovelyyy

ynusername yes!!! sleepover next month! 💞

randomclassmate gorg

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throughout the rest of the FPs, max couldn't get yn out of his head. he knew he should be keeping his head down and focusing on how to improve his performance, but in all honesty he was more concerned with impressing the girl who hadn't left his mind.

his father saw his sudden proneness to day dreaming and immediately knew something was different. "max, son."

"yes?", muttered max in surprise. "what is it with you this weekend? you know better than to have your head in the clouds?"

"n-nothing. just thinking..", max replied. fuck, he thought, of course jos would be able to tell that something was on max's mind besides racing.

then came qualifying where it all came crashing down. he had placed tenth on the grid; his worst starting position for the season so far. in the moments following quali, he walked to his garage with his head held down by the weight of what he would have to accomplish in the grand prix to satisfy all expectations.

come sunday, max was ready to win. he knew she was still at the grand prix as she had posted a selfie at the paddock a few hours prior. if he was to impress her and grow bold enough to ask her out, now was the time to succeed.

and succeed he did. he went through the nine drivers in front of him slowly and steadily, unable to believe that he was mere laps away from tasting victory. when he passed vettle, hamilton, and finally rosberg, his eyes filled with tears. then next thing he knew, horner was saying, "max verstappen, you are a race winner. fantastic. what a debut. fantastic. great, great job!"

max was in awe. his first win at seventeen wasn't certain, yet he made it happen. he knew what he needed to do next.

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maxverstappen33

Liked by f1, christianhorner, and 1.2 million others

maxverstappen33 First race win and youngest ever race winner. Huge congratulations to the team. Thanks to my family who made it all possible. On to the next. 💪🇳🇱🏎️

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f1 That's our youngest race winner 🇳🇱🇳🇱 Super Max!

victoriaverstappen Congrats, maxie. 🧡🧡

^ ❤️ by author

lewishamilton Nice one, mate. 1️⃣

user9827279 already outdoing danny...i can see the incoming favoritism from a distance

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yn couldn't believe it. seeing her favorite team win in her first ever grand prix visit...unbelievable. she had taken dozens of pictures and videos to show her dad and show off to her little brother. as she was leaving the paddock, her phone dinged with a notification. 'hmm. must be dad asking me how the race has been'.

yet, instead it was an instagram dm notifcation.

Max Verstappen

maxverstappen33

Hey, Yn right?

yes!! is this Max or some red bull staff? Haha, its Max. How did you like the Grand Prix?

omg, loved it!!! the most fun i've had in so long :))

congrats on your first win. it was super impressive :')

Thanks! Quick question.

yes?

How would you feel about going on a date?

max verstappen, are you asking me out? Yes, if you want to go. No, if you don't

🤣🤣 Funny.

that's a yes, mr. race winner.

The 21st at 6pm at the movie theatre it is. Can't wait to see you there. 🙂

see you then, max. 🧡

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after dozens of conversations and a few calls, max and yn went on their first date. he pulled up to her house with a single red rose. he didn't know if it was enough but he also didn't want to overwhelm her in any way. he waited for her to come out of her house and handed her the rose.

"hello, yn. you look beautiful. this is for you."

"oh- thanks, max! how was the ride over?"

max lived one hour away from yn and it was his first long carride since he got his license.

"it was good. nothing special, you know? how was your day been?", he asked as he opened the passenger seat for her. truth be told they had called as they were both getting ready, but he still asked since nothing put a smile on his voice than her excited talking.

"you know how it was max, hahaha. though, i have to say you do clean up well. you look good."

"thanks. so do you, pretty girl", max said, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

after half an hour of idyll chat, the pair arrived at the movie theatre. max paid for her tickets and the snacks (even after yn's insistence that she should at least cover the popcorn) before they went into the salon.

yn had chosen some random action movie to watch which max wasn't opposed to. they both laughed, yn teared up a bit (which caused max to laugh in surprise over), and even held hands for the first time.

as max parked at her house he asked her, "did you have fun?"

"yeah, i really did. what about you? did i stack up to your usual sunday excitement?"

"you're more fun than any grand prix i've ever raced in. thanks for coming.", he said.

with a kiss on the cheek, they exchanged goodbyes.

⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹

after four months, jos had started to become suspicious of max. the teenager had become a lot happier and snuck around a lot more than he used to. yet, he decided not to mention anything until he caught max in the act.

unbeknownst to this, max kept sneaking out and seeing yn. he knew the sneaking around couldn't last forever but he didn't want his dad to tarnish everything he had built with yn. she was patient, kind, beautiful, and the most hilarious person he had ever known.

the greatest negative of being in the best relationship of his life was that max always wanted to talk about her and being her boyfriend. so, after six months had passed since their first date max decided he owed it to their relationship to come out to the world. as a couple? well, not exactly!

maxverstappen33

Liked by ynusername and 230,432 others

maxverstappen33 Happy birthday to the worst photographer I know. On a real note, thanks for being the best friend a guy could ever ask for. @ynusername happy 18th 🧡

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maxmaxsupermax UHM??? soft launch?:?)&/&

poppyf1fan max posting a girl was NOTT on my 2016 f1 bingo card

ynusername ignoring the "worst photographer" allegation...ty maxie 🧡 u have made this bday unforgettable

^❤️ by author

maxverstappen33 always. 🧡

redbullned OH?

randomfan02828 even red bull is surprised 😭🙏

max decided that a friendship soft launch would go over easier. plus, he didn't exactly warn yn of his post (though by her subtle comment you wouldn't be a fool to think otherwise).

"max?? what's this post on insta??", yn practically yelped on the other line.

"oh...that. well, i thought it was about time people knew about us", he nervously responded.

"but, your dad??? red bull? you know, basically everyone in your life?"

"i can deal with all that on my own, don't worry about it. you deserve to be known about. consider it my gift to you on your 18th", he joked.

"max, i think i would consider the bouquet of roses, the bracelet, and the makeup you got me as my gift. you really didn't have to, babe."

"yeah, but you're my girlfriend. who would i spoil if not you?"

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now, it was their one year anniversary.

max had come clean to jos over his relationship with yn just a few hours after that initial post. jos certainly wasn't happy and made it clear, but since max was living on his own at 18 there wasn't really much he could do. not that max cared much for his dad's opinion on his romantic relationships.

he had talked to yn about a proper reveal of their relationship and that he....somewhat did.

liked by f1, ynusername, and 800,625 others

maxverstappen33 Summer ☀️ @ynusername

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ynusername this is not what I meant by hard launch...💀

redbullned have fun in the off-season champ 💪

mymax33 ugh...she's not even that pretty 😂

lestappen0975 and ur so hot. that's why u don't show ur face? stfu

liononthetrack ?? bro said nothing yet everything??

danielricciardo I don't think you understand what a hard launch is, mate. 😆

and daniel was right. max assumed that by posting yn people would get the hint that he was her boyfriend. yet, there were still people delusional enough to think that she was just a friend. "you know, babe, that a friend just asked me if i was single or if she could hook me up with someone", yn said, hinting the obvious at max.

"oh, have you not told her about us yet?"

"i have. she just didn't believe it", replied yn, a smile creeping up on her face.

"you should have shown her my post to shut her up", max joked.

"i did. she asked what a guy friend had to do with me being single or not", yn finally said outright.

"guy friend?? wasn't that one of those hard launches you said couples do to reveal their relationship?", max said shocked.

"max. figuring out we are dating from that post is like trying to find a pin in a hay stack. nearly impossible", yn said, practically in tears laughing at max's dismay.

"damn it. seems danny is right. he had said that the post made you look like a friend but i just ignored him thinking he was messing with me."

"they do say that with age comes wisdom", yn responded.

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Liked by yourbestfriend, maxverstappen33, and 22,347 others

ynusername proper hard launch, i'd say. none of that soft stuff 🧡 @/maxverstappen33

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maxverstappen33 🧡 love you, schat. happy one year 🧡

ynusername best one year of my life 🧡

madmax3303 oh!!! max's friend is his...gf???

f1fan2008 how did he pull such a baddie 💀

danielriccardo You need to teach Max how to hard launch. Heidi called his post weak 😂

^❤️ by author

yourbestfriend CUTIESSSS 🥹🥹🥹

^❤️ by author

going to her first grand prix led to the best thing in her life: her boyfriend. and all it took to show the world were a few unclear posts and an oblivious boyfriend.

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hope you enjoyed!!

interact as much as you'd like

send requests for any f1 driver 🏎️

[clairdelunelove]

itadori "wear what you want because I can fight" yuuji

he's not a violent person. well, most would claim he isn't. people tend to put him on a pedestal of fairness and morality due to his typical charm. the magnetism of his broad grins and upbeat compliments. always the comedic relief when situations escalated, and feelings were far from composed. and he'd agree that they weren't that far off with their assumptions. he views every individual as a holder of wills and dreams. the desire to strive for the value of life is enough motivation for him. he's a firm believer of sacrificing himself for the greater good– a selflessness that most couldn't fathom.

but by a rare stroke of luck, when the two of you began dating, yuuji noticed a drastic change in the perception he had of himself. he could be jealous. and in hindsight, it sounds silly because of course, there's nothing wrong with your partner being a bit insecure. it's human nature and happens to the best of us. but yuuji didn't lack self-esteem. no, he was just protective over you. guarded, vigilant, and careful about everything that involved you in some shape or form. and perhaps the inkling of keeping you all to himself has run through his mind more than once. these strong sentiments scared him, initially; rattled him enough to where he would ponder if it was normal. guilt was the typical consequence he dealt with and often confided in his mentors about it. conversed with them by using his large, expressive eyes and knitted brows. and when they hummed that his emotions were valid, well, it was like putting a soothing balm over an injury. he was as good as new.

so it isn't surprising when his nose crinkles at the abominable sight before him. he leaves for a minute, literally, to pick up the syrupy milkshake the two of you ordered beforehand. it's filled with candied toppings, a concoction that made your mouth drop in awe and caused him to immediately buy it to make you happy. and there's a bounce in his step when he waltzes over to your table. he's in pure bliss. just euphoric due to the fact that the both of you could spend the day together and it's been a dream come true. he'd taken you to the bowling alley, gotten some impressive strikes, and even snuck in a couple affectionate kisses. it's the equivalent of the cheesy romcoms that he watches when he misses you.

until it isn't.

because there's a guy chatting you up in yuuji's absence and okay, yuuji takes a deep breath and reasons that it's not a crime to talk to you while he's away. but cut him some slack, y'know. he almost feels bad when you catch his stare and a wave of relief washes over your features. emphasis on almost, however. his mouth twitches in response, plastering on a half-smile as he gets closer, until he has the misfortune of hearing what the stranger was adamantly uttering to you.

"you don't have to be coy, 'course you're dressing like that to get attention," the guy pointedly gestures to your outfit with a smirk, "you got mine, for sure."

and yuuji sees red. an intense burst of emotion that licks up into flames of animosity that drive him to the brink. it's instantaneous. scarily so, when yuuji's calloused hand seizes the stranger's before he can sleazily reach to pet at your clothes. because how dare this stranger feel the need to say that. yuuji recognizes the telltale sign of your brows drawing together, your self-confidence diminishing the more this situation goes on. so he snaps.

"what'd you just say to my girl, asshole?"

he doesn't even recognize the gruff, harsh voice that leaves his chapped lips. there's a huff of alarm from the sheer power of his grip on the stranger's wrist and you swear you hear an unnerving crack. you let out a distressed gasp. the blushy haired male doesn't verbalize the same sentiment, though. just blankly stares up through his brows, an ominous and haunting intent in his actions. and yuuji's a completely different person now. you note a muscle in his jaw that twitches. gone is your sweet, doting boyfriend. he's placed by a man with innate concentration and murderous intent to protect your honor– to defend you. the contrast is startling.

"she can wear whatever she wants, whenever she wants," yuuji moves to grasp onto the front of the stranger's shirt and forewarns him with a couple shakes, each word emphasized with the movement, "'cause she's with me."

and the blushy haired male rattles the other grown man like he was nothing. just a speck of dust that happened to get in yuuji's way. a nuisance that he'll willingly dispose of. naturally, the stranger is reduced to trembling and cowering in fear. the sleeves of yuuji's sweater are rolled up to showcase his solid forearms and rippling veins that are only more apparent in how tense he is. hysterical excuses leave the other male's mouth; mentions of who- or rather what- you were dating. how this wasn't right-minded or moral for him to be acting this way. this was just supposed to be a light-hearted 'joke.' but yuuji's not interested in listening. he casts a rather neutral glance to him, the kind where his brows drop in conviction. locked onto his prey and stopping any means of escape. his golden eyes are as sharp as daggers. a manifestation of the stranger's night terrors and much more. there's hostility evident in how yuuji shoves him to get lost and, as quick as the stranger appeared, he vanishes.

and after the whole ordeal, yuuji's busy scratching the back of his neck. the image of modesty and faultlessness being captured by how he tilts his head to the side while he watches the stranger retreat.

he even has the audacity to mumble an innocent, "gee. what was that guy's deal?" like the pink-haired male wasn't just playing violent mind games with him or how he wasn't just the sole embodiment of the harbinger of hell itself. all as an effort to protect you.

your heart skips. breathless, as you're engulfed in warmth that exposes your deepest desires. and you think that yuuji knows; well, with how he leans to press a tender kiss onto your forehead and eagerly takes your hand in his. how his casual display of strength melts you into a puddle. but when you're left flustered, heart pounding and mind racing, you realize that you're the one that's struck speechless on how effortlessly attractive he is. but it dawns on you that this is just how yuuji innately is. after all, he vowed to be yours; in every aspect there is. his commitment to you is unmatched. and it's the utter devotion that yuuji unveils to you in times like this that your love for him only grows with each passing day.

[lestink]

IVE GOT MORE THUNDER LEGION/RAIJINSHUU CRUMBS THAT IM GOING TO EXPLODE ABOUT

CW: FAIRY TAIL GAME 2 SPOILERS BELOW

tagging @freedjustinemywife and @selfawarecobalt (also if youre reading this come join us on the thunder legion community)

Before I get to the goods I wanted to point out something that made me laugh:

Wendy has often said in the game how much she admires Laxus’ kinder side (not her calling him the gay uncle of the guild) but whenever she does so MIRA almost always reminds her and the player that ‘nah i remember when u did this shit back in 2009’ ITS SO FUNNY

OK NOW HERES A CUTE EXCHANGE OF ELFMAN GIVING LAXUS GIFTS (i don’t understand the occasion tho, xmas during the war?? idkk) FROM THE THUNDER LEGION

my freakout thoughts:

bixlow making a mini doll???? im gonna cry thats so fucking CUTE,,, imagining bixlow sitting down to carve one out for laxus with a silly face,,ough,,bixlow is so sweet i NEED TO SEE HIM

freed knitting a sweater.....ok so the entire thunder legion are all arts and crafts oriented ok i will explode. AND A PROTECTION ENCHANTMENT TOO?? the bodyguarding never stops even if he's offscreen he's still got it FUCKK i miss my wife. and youre so right elfman WEAR IT LAXUS U DICK. also,,,,laxus recognized the sweater from the pattern itself so freed has knitted things with that similar pattern before...AUGHHHHH freed knitting the thunder legion and laxus outfits what if i suddenly combusted

EVERGREEN MAKING A STEWWWW and the elfever crumbs with chef evergreen and taste tester elfman,,,man if elfman doesnt marry her I WILL. this is quite possibly the softest and coziest little side event ever, where the hell is the thunder legion when i'm freezing in my apartment....

ALL 3 OF THEM GIVING LAXUS CASH JUST IN CASE ok this reminds me of the talks i had with @yellow-guiding-lantern about the thunder legion being the keepers/the only ones who could reign in rabid dog laxus, this just affirms whats TRUE theyre taking care of his dumb ass

moving on:

youre so right lucy the thunder legion DOES love him im so sick of them /aff (if i dont see them soon i will make it on international news)

THUNDER LEGION FORMATION CRUMBS????

i always did wanna learn how they got to be together and though i know the gaiden had its own interpretation i wondered how else it could have happened, and this is a very interesting and different approach the way FREED is the one who wants to fight laxus first (angry freed????? CAN I SEE????)

i have so many questions like?? why did he get so angry??? did laxus break a rule that enraged him?? like maybe threatening the safety of others??? did freed give laxus a good fight?? were bixlow and evergreen involved at this point??? and what does that mean freed only wanted laxus for his strength???? elaborate??????

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDD

mira is so funny the way she can quickly uncover laxus' facade of trying to stay tough and hard, in the source material + game she's always been the anchor of staying true to one's feelings. in other words, she's all "aaaaaaahhh i caught you caring"

elfman catching laxus blushing too HAHAHA his whiteness will work against him. (also- manhood????? was there no other word they could have used???)

NOT TOO MUCH ON THE THUNDER LEGION LUCY??? to be fair i also love gift giving, i love to give my friends lots of little things i know they'll love so i don't see the "obsessiveness" of this.

MY TAKEAWAYS:

Mirajane Strauss will forever be Laxus' greatest opp (undefeated streak)

the Thunder Legion are the best gift givers in the guild, they're the equivalent of the rich aunties who want to spoil you rotten

I want to see no more Freed characterization calling him a pushover or cheerleader for Laxus, he's literally the one consistently defying his arrogance ON AND OFF SCREEN🗣���

Laxus and the Thunder Legion are private people, but everyone can see their love and devotion to each other and I think that's so beautiful

If I don't see new Thunder Legion content soon WHERE I CAN ACTUALLY SEE THEM another CEO will pay for it

[vyyper]

you can never take pictures of yourself and send them to argenti without it guaranteeing in you ending up flustered. a simple picture of the treat you got? he'll compliment how beautiful the hand holding it is. a picture with a ridiculous filter distorting your face? he'll ramble on about how he can still recognize your beauty through it. a dumb .5 selfie? he'll tell you you're perfect from all angles. you think he's joking at first but he's really not, even if he knows it's a bit silly, but he really does love everything about you. he could whisper your praises forever. and don't get me started on how he'll smother you in compliments and love when you send him normal selfies or pictures of you in your outfit for that day. of course, nothing compares to the reverence he kisses you with when you're actually by his side, prayers of affection whispered against your skin.

[cobragardens]

CORRECTED & UPDATED Clothes + Equivocation = Romance: The Husbands in 1793 (Part 2)

From Part 1:

Crowley and Aziraphale share clothes as a common interest. They don't have the same style, but they're both aware of current fashions, and Heaven and Hell aren't. You can't tell me Hastur or Uriel would recognize the significance of Crowley saying "Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble" about someone else while wearing black stockings and cravat and waistcoat himself. And that means Anything the husbands communicate to each other through clothing choices goes undetected by their masters.

SO. With all this in mind, let's go through the 1793 scene again and look at what the husbands communicate to each other without using words or actions to do it, and how their clothing choices help them do that.

Hello. I'm here and I know you're in a spot of trouble. I like you.

It's you! I'm so happy you're here!

Sheen's voice and face when Aziraphale says Crowley's name in this moment makes me think that Aziraphale is in love with Crowley--the demon Crowley, not the angel who became Crowley--long before he consciously realizes it in 1941. The way Sheen has Aziraphale say Crowley's name is so soft.

The way you're he way you're lounging there and what you're wearing are uncomfortably sexy and also incredibly inappropriate for the Bastille at this moment in history. I suppose this is very on-brand for you.

Crowley: I listen when you talk about your interests and goals and keep track of your general whereabouts and pursuits.

Either they've spoken with each other recently or Crowley has been keeping tabs on Aziraphale. Aziraphale isn't upset that Crowley knows what he's been up to, which suggests the former, which in turn suggests they're in semi-regular (every few years or decades) contact at this point.

Also we've now got a general idea for when Aziraphale opens his bookshop.

Okay, brief tangent while I point out two things here.

One, my favorite thing about Aziraphale is that he is a sensualist. This is libertine behavior, y'all. He 'popped across the Channel' during the Reign of Terror because he wanted a specific carnal experience of a specific really lovely food.

And two, even when Aziraphale does weird, frivolous, silly, ill-advised things like this, things that clearly baffle Crowley...Crowley never makes fun of him. He never laughs at him. He always has this look of disbelief on his face, like Am I hearing this?--

--but Crowley never, not once, shuts Aziraphale down.

Until Aziraphale asks him to go back to Heaven.

Anyway. Back to our scene.

Aziraphale: I am unwilling to abandon my sartorial sensibilities even when it threatens my corporation, and I am insane, so I think this is reasonable. At least I'm not wearing a Slutty Monarchist outfit.

You're happy to see me, aren't you. You're relieved to see a demon. Go on, say it.

Tennant's delivery of this line cracks me up. It is so gloating and flirtatious and smarmy and indulgent of Aziraphale.

I am very happy to see you and lucky you're here, and I am willing to say so sincerely even though you are gloating about it.

And then there's the exchange where Crowley very carefully doesn't answer Aziraphale's question about why Crowley's in the area but also reassures him that he didn't cause the French Revolution and Aziraphale can still like him.

We can't speak openly about this. It's dangerous for me.

Message received: I won't mention what you did again. But I want to show my gratitude and spend time with you; is it safe for us to get lunch together?

Yes, but one of us is going to have to change so we can walk the streets of Paris without getting arrested again, and I'm the one doing the rescuing here so it's not going to be me. Your 'standards' will have to take the hit.

Fine, you've got me over a barrel. But hey, if I have to wear the silly hat anyway I might as well go all the way and wear your colors. Except not monarchist. And not slutty.

Oh, I don't know, I thought you looked pretty slutty too. (Meaning 2) I'm having this guy killed for touching you, btw. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. I see you are having the guy who assaulted you killed in a copy of the clothes he would have killed you for wearing. I wholeheartedly approve of this (Meaning 3), your sexiness in those clothes notwithstanding. The utter insouciance of Crowley's little sniff and the inquiry about what they'll have for lunch drive home hard that Crowley could not be more unbothered by Aziraphale having the man who tried to harm him beheaded.

What really tickles me about this line is not only that Crowley's joke has three distinct meanings, but that Meaning 1 (the meaning that exists without reference to Crowley's clothes) is the opposite of Meaning 3--Anybody wearing clothes like that deserves what they get (Meaning 1) versus It rocks how you just killed someone who tried to kill you for wearing those clothes (Meaning 3)--and yet because of the clothes he's wearing, both meanings come through with perfect clarity, dependent only on whether the listener(s) can see his clothing and know its significance. Aziraphale can, and does, so he receives Crowley's real meaning. Hell/Heaven can't, and don't, so they just hear Meaning 1.

And then we get Aziraphale's pleased little smile and look of tranquil interest as he watches Jean-Claude dragged off to his death. Its such an interesting facial expression for an angel watching a demon have someone killed having someone killed, isn't it?

Crowley has just told him they're probably being listened to by Hell. That means Aziraphale, Crowley, and the audience all know this is the most Aziraphale can safely react. Aziraphale can't show any overt approval of anything an agent of Hell does, because by definition anything a demon does is demonic and angels must be against That Sort of Thing. In light of the fact that Aziraphale is the one who causes Jean-Claude's death, I now argue that this responsibility not to react too positively to something the other side has done falls on Crowley, and that the reason he makes this joke is primarily to tell Aziraphale I see what you've just done, and I like it without identifying aloud what exactly has just happened for their presumed eavesdroppers because an angel arranging a human's murder is the sort of thing in which head offices might take undue interest.

The awareness that their conversation is not private means the audience and Aziraphale know they need to be watching and listening for multiple meanings from Crowley, and it also means the audience and Crowley know we need to be watching Aziraphale's face closely right now. And that little smile shows us that Aziraphale has received Meanings 2 and 3 of "he was asking for trouble."

Or, at minimum, Meaning 3; even if Aziraphale picks up on Meaning 2--You looked really sexy in your vintage clothes, you crazy weirdo--that's not a message he can afford to react to at all. But he does react to the other coded communication Crowley is sending when he says "Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble" while dressed for trouble himself: I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. People who think your clothes give them the right to hurt you can go to Hell, and I am delighted you just sent one of them there.

You just had someone beheaded for assaulting me, I acknowledge and am pleased by your delight at my cleverness. and I could not be happier. Would you like to come enjoy one of my very favorite sensual pleasures with me?

***

EDIT: To be honest I like this reading better than my original, incorrect understanding of the story despite the fact that it is slightly less romantic, both because I love the idea of Crowley as a thirsty witness to Aziraphale quietly being a vengeful badass, because it gives us a glimpse of something important about Aziraphale's character that we don't get to see elsewhere: Aziraphale doesn't have a problem with killing per se.

We learn from the business with the Antichrist that, like Crowley, Az. can't bring himself to kill children. We learn from his perturbation at the Flood and the Crucifixion that he doesn't hold with killing innocents. He gave away his flaming sword. But this scene establishes that Aziraphale will actively cause someone's death if he feels they deserve it. That seems like an important character note for him that may become relevant in Season 3 (feathers crossed that it happens).

And I think there's something else in there too, something about how Aziraphale kills Jean-Claude, not with outright violence but with a trick. One party thinks he's in control of the situation; with a wave of his hand, suddenly a turnip has turned into an inkwell an executioner has turned into the condemned--or at least it seems that way long enough to get the job done. It's a bait-and-switch, like stage magic, and it slots right in to the motif in Good Omens of sleight-of-hand, of characters wearing other characters' appearances (for more on this, see fan theories re: Maggie is possessed), of supplying false meanings to an audience to disguise the true actions going on behind the scenes.

[ro-is-struggling]

Dark Side of Me || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren't a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn't look away.

Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance

Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4400

Notes: I watched magic mike the other day and apparently I am now obsessed with stripper aus. The movies have a softer side that I wasn't expecting but I loved it and that's the vibe I'm trying to recreate here. If you want to understand some of the dance moves I'm trying to describe here you should watch the movie! I tried really hard with this one (describing dancing is waay harder than I thought so I hope it makes sense)

I’m open to writing more of these two, so let me know if you’d like that and don't hesitate to stop by my asks/messages if you have any ideas!

tagging: @asgards-princess-of-mischief

What had started out as a night of celebrating your 21st birthday quickly went off the rails and turned into something completely different. The plan was to get wasted —legally this time—, visit a couple of bars and get home before you ended up in the hospital. You weren't usually a party and alcohol lover —you just went to have a good time with your friends—, but you recognized that your 21st birthday was an important event that deserved to be celebrated. Besides, your friends had assured you that they would behave themselves and that things would not get out of control -well, not that much at least.

In hindsight, you should have figured that wouldn't happen. Although nothing could have prepared you for ending up at Heroes, a strip club your friends had apparently been to before. You tried to say no at first, but you were a little buzzed and you'd never been good at saying no to your friends anyway, so eventually you agreed. The place was exactly what you imagined and completely different at the same time, if that made sense. Dark, loud and warm, but much nicer than you expected. The dim lights gave it a very intimate feel, highlighting certain spaces with red or purple lights that made it look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The music played loudly, trying to drown out some of the shouting of the women throwing bills onto the catwalk where the dancers performed their routines, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.

From the moment you settled at your table, a sort of strange sisterhood was generated between you and the groups of women seated in your proximity. Similar to bumping into a stranger in the bathroom at a party and reacting as if you were lifelong friends, you quickly engaged in casual conversation with the group of women at a bachelorette party to your right, and the one celebrating a divorce to your left. You complimented each other's outfits, shared a few drinks, and screamed with all your might in unison every time a dancer approached your side of the stage —or made quick eye contact with one of you. It created such a pleasant and fun atmosphere that for a moment you almost forgot where you were.

It stopped being nice and fun though when your friend came up with the idea of paying for a private dance and you had to face the force of a group of women pressuring you to accept. You had made the silly mistake of letting one of your friends know that you really thought the dancer who called himself the Winter Soldier was cute. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off him during his routine. And since that was the most interested you had ever been in any of the dancers, your friend thought it would be a good idea to treat you to a private dance.

“What am I supposed to do locked in a room with him?” You panicked as your friends dragged you to a more private area of the club to wait for your gift.

“I don't know, enjoy, I guess?” She laughed, practically pushing you into the arms of the man waiting to lead you to the Winter Soldier. You wanted to snap at her, but you kept silent, embarrassed by the stranger's presence. The last thing you needed was to make an even bigger fool of yourself by looking like an innocent, prudish fool.

But the problem was just that. You were a silly, innocent, prudish young woman that didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in a situation like that. You could feel the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the screaming and the bass of the music that was getting farther and farther away. Your stomach was turning with nerves as you sat waiting in the chair in the center of the room, just as the man had indicated before disappearing behind the door. Your hands rested awkwardly in your lap, your body immobile as you contemplated your options —perhaps if you remained completely still, he wouldn't be able to see you there, it was dark after all. 

You thought about running away from there. You were alone, the dancer had not yet appeared and the hallway was dark, you would probably be able to sneak out without even your friends noticing. You would send them a text later explaining everything, when you were out and away from their clutches so they couldn't drag you there again. But when you went to get up, you found that your legs didn't respond. Only this time it didn't feel like it was part of the nerves you were having at the thought of what was about to happen. 

You discovered then that a part of you, hidden behind a lot of shame and fear of the unknown, was curious. You wondered what it would feel like to be in a room alone with him, what it would feel like to have him touch you —even in the lightest, most subtle way—, to have him press his body against yours as he had done on stage with a lucky girl in the audience. You'd never experienced anything remotely similar to that, you'd barely shared make-out sessions with your ex-partner that weren't particularly memorable-not in the way the Winter Soldier's dance was for you. You had the movement of his hips burned into your memory, the image of his flexing muscles popping up every time you closed your eyes. You wanted more of him, even if you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. 

The sensual rhythm of the music that suddenly began to play brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a different outfit, a simple tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants. The tactical suit and mask that covered half his face in his routine had probably been left forgotten in some basket behind the stage, but you didn't mind. You could see more of him now, the real him, and you liked that. It felt more intimate, more genuine.

He could sense the nervousness in your voice when you told him your name. You had trouble maintaining eye contact with him, your eyes lingering for a full three seconds on his figure before returning to your hands. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your flowy dress. It intrigued him. He had worked with flustered women before —it was more common than one might imagine—, but there was something about you that stood out. You looked so out of place there, with your innocent look and shaky breath. Everything about your body expression told him that you wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend you weren't there. Everything except a slight glint in your eyes that he almost missed as quickly as you looked away from him. It would be his challenge to get that side of you to come out. 

“That's a beautiful name,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled, but your eyes didn't search his, focusing instead on the red light shining on the wall behind him. So he leaned in front of you, settling down to your eye level so you couldn't escape. “I'm Bucky, by the way, and there's no reason to be nervous around me, princess.” 

Your face warmed at that affectionate nickname and a tingle spread through your body. It had been a while since the last time someone had called you that. You liked it, it made you feel special even if it came from a stranger's mouth.

“Why did you come here tonight? You don't seem like the type of woman that frequents these places.”

“I'm not! I'm here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea... a fun way of celebrating my 21st birthday.” 

“Oh well happy birthday then!” Bucky gave you a smile and you thought that was the best present you had received all day. “Are you having a good time?

“Yea-yeah, I am.” Your voice was soft, almost inaudible. Bucky got the impression that you were embarrassed to admit that out loud.

“Are you uncomfortable, y/n? Do you want to leave? Cause I can give you a full refund and let you go right now if that's what you want.”

“No!” you were quick to say, big eyes staring at him for the first time since he had introduced himself to you. “I'm just a bit... scared, I guess. I've never done anything like this before. Actually, I've never done anything for that matter.” 

You didn't know what prompted you to confess to Bucky —a complete stranger who danced and stripped for a living— your complete inexperience in sexual matters, but you couldn't turn back now. You supposed it was to be transparent, though there was no reason for such a thing. It wasn't like you were there to have sex, he was just going to dance on you for a bit and then you'd go back to your normal, boring life. 

“Well, then I have to let you know that you are in full control here.” Bucky spoke in a soft tone full of understanding. His cold, piercing blue eyes softened, showing a warmth that helped calm your nerves a bit. “I do have a routine, but if there's something that I do that you don't like you can just tell me and I'll stop, okay?” You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the tingle of anticipation running through your body. “Good! Are you ready?”

At your nod, Bucky got up from the floor to press play on the music. Suddenly, the silence was filled by a soft, sensual beat similar to others that had echoed through the club throughout the night. He approached you with a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face, studying your expression. Then he took one of your hands in his and rested it on his chest, still covered by the thin fabric of his white muscle shirt. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. You could barely see your fingertips as he wrapped his hand around yours, trapping it against his chest. His calloused fingers didn't let go as he slowly guided your hand down, allowing you to caress his chest as he rubbed small circles over your skin. It was such an intimate touch for the situation you were in, that for a moment you forgot he was a stripper who did this for a living.

The air caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as your hand traveled lower and lower. You could feel the firmness of his abs under your fingers and the heat emanating from his skin. It filled you with anticipation, with need. You wanted to feel more of him, more of his body and his touch. More of his warmth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. But before your hand reached his waist, he pulled it away. Your eyes shot up to his face, waiting patiently for Bucky to give you instructions to proceed.

He removed his shirt and as soon as the fabric touched the floor, his hands were on yours again, trapping them against his chest. Bucky liked the way you let him guide you, closing your eyes as you enjoyed something as simple as the feel of his skin under your fingers. He was used to dealing with more... confident women. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to demand it. Their hands were always everywhere, touching his crotch without hesitation every chance they got. But you were different. You didn't know what you wanted —what you were missing— and you were willing to let him show you. He enjoyed the slower pace, it was a nice change that allowed him to try new things. So in a way, you were both experiencing something different there.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt the fabric of Bucky's sweatpants brush against your fingers. Your face heated up, embarrassment taking over your expression. But he didn't let your hand slip away, on the contrary, he pushed it a few inches lower and made you cling to the elastic of the pants. He gave you a cheeky smile before he started moving to the rhythm of the music. His hand didn't let go of yours as he positioned himself in your lap, grinding his hips against yours with an experience that shouldn't have surprised you. 

Bucky fixed his eyes on you as he danced, keeping you in a kind of hypnotic trance from which you could not wake up. Your eyes followed his, your body responding to his movements without a single complaint. He trapped you between the chair and his body, one of his hands clinging firmly to the back of the chair while the other traveled to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm caress of his fingers. His face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath mingling against your quickened breathing, his nose brushing against yours. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, letting the euphoric sensation of desire consume you. 

But suddenly, Bucky rose from your lap. You couldn't contain the whimper that escaped your lips, a protest at his devastating absence. Although he wasn't completely gone, you could feel him at your back, his hands caressing your neck, his nose inhaling the scent of your hair. The ghost of his lips traveling from the sweet spot behind your ear to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He wasn't even kissing you and you were already experiencing things you had never felt before in your years of relationship.

With a graceful and sensual move, Bucky is once again on your lap, trapping you against the chair. He wasn't putting his full weight on you, but enough for you to feel it as he moved his hips. Your eyes traveled south, curious about the bulge that the sweat pants still hid. You'd never seen one before — well, outside of biology and health classes— and you'd never felt the urge to do so. But the way Bucky was moving on you made you wonder about things. You heard him let out a chuckle and looked away in embarrassment, knowing you'd been caught.

“You can look,” Bucky whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “That's what I'm here for, doll.” He stroked your arms, his fingers traveling slowly from your shoulders to your wrists. Then he took your hands and placed them back on his bare chest. “You can touch too, I don't mind.”

The desire traveling through your veins made you feel more confident this time, so you didn't need Bucky to guide your hands down his body. They acted at their own accord, fingers slowly tracing the defined muscles of his pecs and abs. You weren't yet comfortable going below his hips, so once you reached the edge of his pants you changed course to his back. Down, up and back down, your nails drew light red marks on his skin as he moved in your lap. You didn't even realize what you were doing, you just knew you liked hearing the sounds that escaped Bucky's lips when you accidentally applied too much pressure. 

The lowest your trembling hands dared to go were his thighs. Bucky could see in your eyes the desire to go further —to brush your fingers over his bulge or squeeze his ass—, but shame and fear stopped you. You were trying so hard to keep your composure, to behave like a lady, but you couldn't fool Bucky. He knew what you wanted, even when you weren't ready to admit it. He saw it in the way your eyes darkened with each passing second and in the way your breathing became more and more erratic. The innocent, good girl shell you had when you entered the room was cracking, allowing your dark desires to come out. Bucky probably shouldn't find that so exciting, but he did. He couldn't help it, watching the innocence slowly leave your eyes, knowing that he was the one corrupting you, was a sight to behold. 

Your lips curled into a pout of protest as Bucky rose from your lap, already missing the heat of his body pressed against yours. It was only for a moment, but to you it felt like an eternity. And he was counting on it, playing with the anticipation as he made a show of taking off his pants. This time your eyes lingered on his tight boxers for longer, though he could still see a flash of embarrassment as you crossed glances with him. It was driving him crazy, in the best possible way. He wanted to remove that innocence from your expression, to corrupt you past the point of no return. It was his personal goal, the challenge he had quietly accepted the moment he discovered what you were. And he was willing to win it.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced your legs. Your chest rose and fell with your quickening breath, your whole body buzzing with anticipation as you felt the gentle caresses moving from your ankles to your knees. To your surprise, his fingers continued their path up your thighs, though they stopped just below the hem of your dress. You resisted the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair as you felt him spread your legs slightly apart —enough for him to fit between them, but not enough to leave you too exposed to his eyes. And then the caresses over your body returned, only this time it was the ghost of Bucky's lips that sent shivers across your skin.

His mouth wasn't actually touching your thighs, but he was so damn close that you could almost feel his lips caressing the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your leg. A warm tingling spread inside you as he moved further up, getting dangerously close to your trembling center. And at that moment you felt no shame or fear —like you had felt on other occasions with past partners. On the contrary, you wanted more, your legs involuntarily spreading wider to give Bucky more room as the ghost of his lips traveled up your lower tummy and across your abdomen until they reached your breasts. And as your breathy moans became more and more audible, your mind was lost in dark thoughts, wondering how different it would all feel if there was no barrier of clothing separating your bodies or how his wet kisses would feel on the sensitive skin of your thighs. 

You didn't have much time to get lost in the fantasy though because in a second Bucky was on his feet again, pressing you against the back of the chair as he pushed your legs up. He settled down on the edge of the chair, resting each of your legs on his thighs. His hands gripped the back of the chair once again, trapping you completely between the cushions and his body —or rather, his crotch. You were practically sitting on his lap as you shared the chair, and you could feel his cock pressing against your center with every thrust of his hips. He was hard and you didn't know how common that was, but you decided to believe it wasn't something that happened often. You liked to imagine that his body was reacting to you and not to the sexual nature of his work. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Bucky's hips moved to the sensual rhythm of the music, thrusting against your center in a way that made you feel like you were losing your virginity at that very moment. It was too much, the fire inside you spreading with the speed of a forest fire. And at the same time, it wasn't enough. Bucky's hip movements, though intense, did little to put out the flames they had started. They were pulling you into a swirl of desire and need, bringing you closer and closer to your limit with no promise of real relief. It was frustrating, in a way, but also incredibly exciting. 

Your eyes closed for a moment as you struggled to process the sensations that were taking over your body. You tried to focus on your breathing and the sound of the music, anything to keep yourself grounded. But every time you thought you had managed to gain control of your own body again, Bucky moved his hips and all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think about was him. 

A moan escaped your lips. It was involuntary and you didn't even realize what you did until a few seconds later. You were ready to apologize, certain you had crossed some kind of line, but Bucky let out a grunt of approval. One of his hands traveled to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tugged on your hair lightly, but the pain didn't bother you. You were too focused on the shape of his lips to think about anything else. You needed to feel them against yours. You needed to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him. You needed Bucky to take everything from you, to show you everything you'd been missing in these years of loneliness.

“C-can you k-kiss me?” You didn't think before you spoke, you just expressed what your mind was thinking without any kind of filter. Your voice was barely a shy whisper, your lips almost brushing against Bucky's as you spoke.

He should have refused, the number one rule of his job was never to kiss the clients —you never knew what things you might end up catching. But when Bucky saw the desperation in your eyes he couldn't help himself. Your slightly parted lips were highly tempting. You were inviting him, giving him permission to ruin you. You needed it as much as he did, so he gave in, and damned the rules. 

Bucky's lips felt soft against yours, though there was nothing soft about the way he kissed you. Just like his dancing, the kiss was intense and unlike anything you had ever experienced before. His lips moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do to turn you completely stupid. You let him guide you, merely reacting to the pleasure that only Bucky seemed capable of giving you. 

His tongue caressed your lips and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him immediate access to further deepen the kiss. Your hands clung to him —one digging your nails into his bicep while the other rested on his leg—, desperate to find something to keep you grounded while Bucky showed you sensations you didn't know you were capable of feeling. 

You were high on pleasure, trapped under his body, immobilized by his lips, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. You didn't want to be separated from him anymore. You didn't want to leave that room. You felt as if Bucky's lips were what kept you breathing, as if you needed them to keep on living. You couldn't pull away. You didn't want to pull away. But unfortunately a knock on the door signaled that your time together was over. 

“You're more than welcome to come back anytime.” Bucky winked at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone in the room. 

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your rapid breathing. Your heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, but you figured that would change when you had a chance to get some fresh air. Your legs almost gave out when you stood up, still weak in the knees after the spectacle you had witnessed. You felt a little silly having to take a moment to steady yourself. Bucky had gotten up and left without any trouble, and there you were, clinging to the back of the chair as you struggled to compose yourself so you could leave without your friends realizing the effect their dumb idea had really had on you. You were pathetic. 

Gathering your last bit of strength you pushed past the screaming women until you found your friends. They were back at their table, enjoying the routine of a tall, muscular blond who, from what you had heard, called himself Captain America. He was cute, but you couldn't stay in that place a second longer.

“How was it?” one of your friends asked with a smile.

“I need to get some air.”

“That good, huh?” Said the other with a giggle. You rolled your eyes, grabbing both of them by the arm and pulling them up from their seats. 

Amidst protests they agreed to leave with you and call it a night. As they made their way through the crowd they didn't miss the opportunity to flood you with questions, insisting that you give them details of what had happened and how it felt to have Bucky dance just for you. You refused to say anything, partly because you were embarrassed to admit the reality of what had happened, and partly because you still needed time to process the night. 

However, as you were about to leave, one of the waiters who had served your table - a young man who had introduced himself as Spider-Man - grabbed your arm. At first you thought maybe you had forgotten something in your seats and he was being kind enough to catch you before you left. But when you turned to look at him you noticed he had nothing in his hands but a rose and a piece of paper.

“He sends you this.” The boy said, handing you the items and disappearing into the crowd. 

He didn't have to tell you who they were from for you to know. A smile immediately graced your lips as you held the flower to your nose and inhaled. Then you turned your attention to the piece of paper and as you unfolded it you discovered that it was a note.

‘Happy birthday!

Call me ;)' 

It read, and at the end was written a phone number that was undoubtedly Bucky's. Your smile widened, which finally attracted the attention of your friends. One of them took the paper from you before you could hide it and when you saw the expression on her face you knew you weren't going to escape the interrogation. It was going to be a long night.

[kari-sims]

Florence [over the phone]: Ellie dear, it's me, your aunt Florence! Filomena and I are transportalating by in a minute, I'm just waiting for her to stop being a nuisance goblin. (turns to scream at her sister) By all means… take all day, I can wait, 'your highness'! It's not like you've tried 50 hats already!

Filomena [in the background]: If I don't find the perfect one, the whole outfit is ruined! Wouldn't you just love for that to happen?!

[exactly one minute later, Florence arrives in Ellie's porch with a *poof!*]

Ellie: Hi auntie!

Florence: Who are you?

Ellie: It's me, Ellie!

Florence: Ellie didn't have glasses before, or wonky bangs...

Ellie: Oh come on, we literally look alike. Auntie Flor, it's me!

Florence: Prove it.

Ellie: Remember when I came back from school all sad one day, and you went out and brought me a one-eyed chicken? She became my best friend! Oh, and she also walked all grumpy and wobbly like this "co-ca-caw!". Remember?!

Florence: Hah! Aren't you my silly little Mushy...

[with another *poof!* Filomena arrives fabulously]

Filomena: Hi Ellie dear!

Florence: Finally! Did you find the perfect hat? (mutters to herself) Why yes, of course she did... Hmph!

Filomena: Was that an Alberta impression? I could recognize that old chicken even if I was in another universe! Now, are we going in or what? This wind will mess up my hair!

Florence: Yes, please. This place just got mighty crowded by your aunt's inflated sense of self.

[matchalovertrait]

24 screenshots of 2024! ✮⋆˙

Thank you for the tag @itmeansiris, @cakepoppresent, @euphiesims, @rosienthe, @simscici, @smulie, @living-undead, and @elderwisp!! 💗

January

Infant Dulce!!!! Aw how precious 😭 I love her little pigtails and look in her eyes. She looks a lot like her dad here lol.

One of Generation One's requirements in the Joy of Life Challenge is to "Throw the best parties for your child(ren), full of yummy cakes and treats!" and this was the very first of many cute parties :) Ángel's 5th birthday. I was still very new to the Sims 4 and I felt pretty proud of myself.

February

MY FOUR BABIES 😭😭😭😭 I love them with all my heart.

This took soooooo much work as a beginner omg!! I thought it was just okay but it got a lot of love :o

Ángel, Esperanza, Dulce, Guillermo, and Matthew as kids! I had no clue what the future held for them lol. Look at all of them appearing so cute and innocent 😆

March

An ofrenda for in-game Día de Los Muertos. It turned out pretty decent. That's a picture of Noemí's mom, Ynez.

Again, I don't know what possessed me to do a Diced Junior arc 😂 Besides the lighting and ugly text, I'm really proud of it. So no, I will never stop mentioning it.

April

A lil too much text 😅 but I liked showing the personalities of Dulce's cousins more here. Fun fact: It may not seem like it but Guillermo has the genius trait. A handful of his lines in this legacy insinuates that lol.

This was right after Dulce posted the Alto exposé video. I like how I showed a few different opinions from the comment section of her video. Also, it's a little ironic that she would meet a somewhat familiar fate due to Caruso's video about her 😅 hehehe.

May

My free-spirited Dulce 💓 maybe one of her future kids can become a basketball star, hmm.

Ynez and Infant Noemí <3 Translation: It’s just the two of us, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to put in A LOT of effort to give you a good life. Hopefully, you grow up to be a person who is very kind, strong, and noble. And she did grow up to be like that :)

June

I'm not religious but Noemí practices catholicism. That's the main religion in Mexico, where she is from! Ngl I think I have religious trauma, but I can recognize when people have good intentions when they pray over you. I kinda like it, shows they care. ...Not in the Southern way when people say "Bless your heart" when they don't mean it like that. Context matters 😂

Bruh, Dulce 💀 Also, I will admit that Caruso looks kind of cute here 😂 I see why some of you fell for him. But that was part of my elaborate plan 😈

July

Okay, the first Lizaxi Legacy post went pretty hard. I'm pleasantly surprised about that LOL! We have some good lines, interesting characters, and decent shots!

Part of Mimli and Smeagie's house :> you'll find cacti, aliens, and stars throughout the home.

August

I LOVE the post that this came from 😂 This save was a lot of fun, I need to revisit it.

My Pierrot clown!!!! One of my favorite posts of this year!! I'm so proud of it :> Her outfit, her makeup, the long sorta-side bangs, the balloons, the fog, her facial expression. Love it.

September

Uh oh, Erick met Caruso and he was NOT having it 😅 Erick is such a kind guy too.

The big move to Del Sol Valley!!! Remember when we thought she was moving to Scotland? 🤔 Anyway, Dulce looks so pretty here! I love the palm trees in the back.

October

I reallllyyyyyyyy like the colors of Dulce's office and how I decorated it :>

Dulce's disguise 😂 man I love turning the ideas in my head into reality. Even if it's all pixels.

LMAO this is so funny and unserious to me 😭😭 Why is bro showing off his body, tattoos, AND jawline in the office??? We're supposed to be having a serious convo here, hellllppppp

November

Okay, this is pretty cool. Now that I look at it, that definitely looks like a supervillain house. I also like the fonts that I used and how you can see that the party is about to begin.

Dulce showing off her knowledge from secret agent movies! She's so silly hehe

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

... Dancing with the Heartslabyul prefect, both dressed as a ghost bride and gravekeeper under the full moon.

Riddle had proposed to dance waltz with you in the empty graveyard, and although you two had to look for your friends, having to deny him now seemed rather difficult. And especially when he looks at you with those eyes of his, speaking only of good intentions.

It was only a single dance, and that was it. You and that gravekeeper knew that, and it was why you agreed to it.

But amidst the dancing, the ground under you two quivered. Riddle paid no heed, but you did, often turning to him to speak to him of what is going on.

However, he would only tell you one thing and one thing alone.

"Don't look down."

One part of you never understood what it meant, but it was soon clear as you felt those bony hands crawl up and grab your legs. The outfit did nothing to cover them as they simply scratched you, making you panic.

Still, Riddle did nothing as he continued dancing— watching you panic made him displeased.

Wasn't this befitting for you two? To dance in the graves as the skeletons come alive?

To reassure you, he simply yanked you away from the skeletons, this time spinning you by the sight of the moonlight. You told him that you felt them grab you, but all he did was smile and say that he never saw that happen.

After one last spin, he dipped your body, letting your hair hit the first few petals inside the coffin he prepared.

...

Oh? What's this? Why is your eyes so wide, darling prefect?

Surely you would recognize that body that you see inside.

Isn't that yours?

You were dressed as a bride, were you not?

Silly darling! That was just a prop!

Riddle would be not so uncouth as to have you buried with that fake prop, you know... Even if that prop looked so closely to you.

Nevertheless, seeing you quiver like a leaf, the gravekeeper dragged you back to his arms, covering your eyes by putting his hand behind your head. He can only whisper apologies as you hit his chest...

... Unknowing of the needle he had as he injected it to the nape of your neck, feeling you jolt as your body become heavier from the drug. And especially when the prop gets dragged to the ground to be torn apart.

...

Oh, sweet, little bride. If only you knew just how far his obsession ran.

After all, as the vows go, till death do you part.

And Riddle will never part with you, even if you both die in his coffin of roses.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[evilminji]

Sooooo.....

Like? We can all agree, that, all other factors aside? Given the life he's lived and the personality he has? The sheer NONSENSE he's been exposed too (from rays to oozes to powders to magics etc) AND the by definition unfinishable nature of his Life's Work/Obsession?

If Batman lived in a world connected to Danny Phantom's Zone in any way... he's DEFINITELY becoming a Realms Ghost.

Like? It's not even a "possibly" here. It's an inevitability. He HAS to protect just one more person. HAS to solve one more case. HAS to protect his kids one last time. He HAS Too, HAS Too, HAS Too.

He's Batman.

It's etched into his soul. The man's ghost will literally REFORM in that outfit. Batman with a glow. Batman the protection spirit. Kindness and grief and an eternity of "I have to save just one more."

He's not going to get to die peacefully or rest quietly. It would go against his nature.

But! Why is this relevant? Because of the Elseworld stories. Those AUs. The Multi-Verse at large. They ALL... Have Batman.

Consider: Ember McClain. Rocker. Remember that name. Yes, in some worlds she makes it big. But? Tragedy and betrayal in others. Death. Do you think the Ember's of those worlds are fine with passing on silently? Shrugging and being forgotten just because some other Ember got there first?

No. They are Ember. SHE is Ember.

Just as Clockwork is Time.

What makes a Realms Ghost different then someone like Deadman? Than a Shade? A poltergeist? Your average spook?

They are only themselves.

Singular.

Small.

A tiny little fraction, of a fraction, of a part, of a small bitty droplet, if even that. You only get one soul. But! You share it. There are many "You"s. Like the universe itself, exploding out, to live, to experience, BE, and then collapsing back together in the end. Running together like rainwater in the cracks of Realitys. Seeping back into one piece, one person, in the place between places.

It's why one forgets silly things like Names and Pasts. You had so, so many. All of them were yours. Made you. Shaped you. But are not why you refuse to let go. Why you still EXSIST. Outside of Creation and Rebirth, beyond any gods you could possibly recognize. Refined to your truest SELF.

Yet... you might still be Alive. You know that you ARE. Time exists for the living. To balance beginnings, middles, and ends. Why do you care? They aren't you yet. They will be. All of you will eventually come together. You'll become something... MORE.

Ancient.

The wisdom and complexity of a complete Being. More a Person then your average soul. Like giant stars compared to a barely burning dwarves. You know, assuming you don't give up first. Most give up. It takes a certain sort of patience, after all. A LOT of timeless time. Kinda sucks.

Yet! We consider The Bat. Persistence and Stubborn Hope made manifest. Compassion born of terrible grief. Dead. Again and again and again. Dead for those who needed him. Who hated him. Who cursed or forgot or lamented him. In every imaginable age, a story played out the same. Ending the same.

Himself instead of another.

Himself FOR the others.

Himself because none other could.

Sacrifice and Sacrifice and Sacrifice. Desperation to save. Worlds burning and cities falling. Waking up, reaching out, to shield sons and daughters that are not there. That live because he does not. Dragging himself through the stubborn walls of world after world, like a haunting final curse, upon those who harmed his family, his city. His world.

A wraith. Gothams final curse upon those who damn her.

What must it be like? To keep saying good bye? To drag your aching soul, fuller and fuller of terrible memories, across the fields of jagged glass that are portals you tear, to world's on fire. Just to save friends and family. Enemies and strangers. All of whom, must in the end... bury you anyway.

Because you must kill the hope in their eyes. Must die before them again. Because you can not stay and they can not come with you. Or worse... they can, and will soon.

Sitting on fields of battle where you tried. Gave all your spirit could muster. But... it's over now. And all you can offer is the knowledge is that they should not be afraid. You will carry them home.

And are there? Nightwings and Robins and all manner of other family, waiting back in the Zone? In a Manor where Pennyworth lives eternal? Do they also hurt and fight to save their friends? Each new piece of them coming with some great tragedy that they must put right?

Do they give Walker and the Observants migraines? Probably.

Imagine, though: Time travel added to the mix. Dying in the future. Your son managing to turn everything back to before the world ended. The Ghost King is suddenly a Baby again. Every one is freaking out. "Oh no! The king!" Blah blah blah.

But you and your family are more concerned about the world ending threat that kills a part of you. So is the baby ghost king, when you tell him. You show up in your own Cave, freak yourself out. Team up time. Though you ARE growing concerned by the Baby Kings self-neglectful behaviors. Hey, Me, are you seeing this?

.......he.... you know, he COULD use more Parental Oversight. He's a good kid. Seems lonely though. Underfed. ("BRUCE, NO." "Hmmm.")

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones @the-witchhunter @cyrwrites

[tabieeee]

Five OC Facts

Joining in the silly 5 OC facts thingy started by @thephonemenarentreal ;p

Rambled a whole bunch and I wanna ramble about the other OCs too but ig i should at least make a ref post with basic info on them first AWHDJASKD. maybe one day...

Optical

They invented their hovergear to make working on the Titan easier. They can hover in place and go up & down easily, but horizontal movement requires momentum. Which is why they tend to drift in the air and smack into things on accident. They have great posture from having to balance while hovering because the hoverballs don't care if they're upside down or not.

Almost always working and barely leaves the titan hangar. They only ever leave for work reasons, or very rarely to go rest in their room.

They usually pass out on their desk or anywhere around the hangar out of exhaustion cus that shithead refuses to sleep.

Optical and Titan Cameraman seem to be very close, but if questioned about it they brush it off and deny it. The Titan is much more open about his care for the Chief and is occasionally seen holding Optical or petting their head. Optical complains about the action but does nothing to actually stop it.

Humans are strictly forbidden from entering the titan hangar without explicit permission and supervision from Optical.

Whistle

They're frequently whistling or humming random tunes and play music during work to pump up their crew. There's one song they sing to themself when alone that no one recognizes, they shrug it off as just an old song

She can physically whistle. There's a small flaw in their speaker that makes a whistling sound if she does it right. They've been offered to fix it but she likes it as it is.

Loves guns and is a pretty good shot. Always has at least one gun on her. Makes guns for fun as well as work

Gives everybody nicknames and uses their actual names mostly only when being serious.

Has an accent, probably texan. Often says "bud", "sweetheart" or "darling"

Parallax

Loves making figurines and toys and has a huge collection. He gives them out to people as gifts pretty often.

Their TV beam can freeze/slow/stun everything in a small radius for a short time (basically Dead Space stasis). It's pretty useful during work to slow down fast-moving machinery. He also sometimes slows people by accident when startled

Big on fashion, changes outfits frequently out of work. He's the reason why TTV looks like a rockstar royalty

Has a home somewhere that he teleports off to where he makes his figurines, rests and just spends the time off-work being an introvert

Patchwork (Admin/green gang's agent)

Seems to be able to just.. appear. wherever he wants. He shows up out of nowhere to politely tell you that your shoes are untied. in the middle of the night. while you were completely alone.

When he leaves, he steps behind literally anything to be out of sight for a second and then suddenly he's just gone. Like walking behind a pillar but not appearing on the other side

He loves insects. Has a bunch he keeps as pets. Like may beetles, emerald cockroaches and any other bright green bugs he finds

Has a few patchworks on his clothing but doesn't remember why. Doesn't want to remove it either

If questioned about his past he mostly gives a blank stare and changes the topic. There's not much he remembers

[koolades-world]

Heyy happy 2k followers man! Well deserved 🎉🎉

Can I request Asmodeus with prompt number 7? Thank you and congratulations on 2k once again!

thank you! of course i can!

you guys obviously haven't seen the rest of the requests yet but this event is telling me you guys really love asmo. i did not anticipate him being the most requested, but i don't mind writing more for him outside of this event if that's what the people want :)

enjoy <3

prompt 7 w/ Asmo

"Mc? Where are you? It's almost time to go! You know the party doesn't start until we get there." Asmo yelled out, searching the halls of the HoL looking for you. He'd checked your room and didn't find you, so instead, he decided to check the bathroom. He'd told you you could get ready in his bathroom, but you'd insisted you wanted your outfit to be a surprise.

"Asmo. I'm in here!" He was surprised to hear your voice coming from Mammon's room. That disheartened him a little, but he entered nonetheless. Mammon was actually nowhere to be found, but you were seated at his vanity, all your things scattered around on the table.

"What're you doing in here, you cutie? You look fabulous." He gave you a side hug, scanning your face.

"Thank you! I thought really hard about how to match this necklace." You placed a hand on your neck, showing off the centerpiece of your outfit. "Mammon wanted to go shower, so I just offered we swap places since all I needed was a mirror to do my hair." You resumed what you were doing before he walked in.

Asmo studied your outfit, admiring the color coordination and the way you used what you had available, but he eventually just started admiring you. You were more focused on what you were doing, but he was enthralled with you. The way you squinted a little when you focused and the way you unconsciously furrowed your eyebrows was endearing to him. He enjoyed these moments of peace with you before going out. While he lovingly stared at you, he realized the odd familiarity your outfit brough him.

"Is that my shirt?" He had given you free access to his closet, but this would be the first time you'd actually taken him up on that offer.

"It is! It was the last piece to my perfect outfit. Hope you don't mind." You beamed at him. He couldn't have been more happy.

"Do I! Of course I don't. You look absolutely darling in that shirt. In fact, I'm tempted to let you keep it, because you wear it better," he squealed. He plopped down in your lap and set his head on your shoulder. You looped one arm around him as best as you could to hold him in place. He loved the way you looked when you laughed.

"No, you should keep it so I always have an excuse to slip into your room." You continued fixing your hair as the two of you chatted.

"You're always welcome in my room silly." He wouldn't lie, he wanted you in his room every chance he got so he got all the time he wanted with you for himself.

"That's true. Still, keep the shirt. I think it looks cuter on you. Nobody can wear anything better than you." The way you smiled at him made him feel like he was the only demon in the Devildom.

"You know the way right to my heart! As long as you promise to come borrow it frequently." He conceded to you. He always caved to your demands.

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He knew that that was a human saying. He still didn't full understand it, but he recognized the emotion infused within in it. The way you said the words was more than enough for him to know what you wanted to convey to him.

"Ah, I just adore you. We're late to that party by now, but that's fine. We're fashionably late, and besides, I'd skip any party to spend time with you." He began to play with the baby hairs at the back of your neck, sighing contently. He hoped you understood the meaning behind his words. He was far too scared to say the L word, afraid of scaring you off, but he always tried his best in his actions to help you understand his words unspoken.

As if you heard what he was thinking, you said, "I feel the same. If you wouldn't mind, do you think we could just sit like this for a little bit longer? I love us time." Asmo felt his heart catch in this throat at the mention of the very word he was petrified of using.

"Yes, but not too long. I don't want Mammon to ruin this moment. We can canoodle at the party too, you know." He remembered at some point that they were in Mammon's room, and that he could be back at any moment. He'd for sure break up the fun they were having.

"I have an idea, then. Hang on tight." The last thing he was expecting was for you to get a tighter grip on him and stand up with him in your arms. He playfully shrieked and used that excuse to huddle closer to you. He loved you, in a way he'd never knew he could love before. He just never anticipated it would be a human that made him feel the way he did. It didn't matter to him though. Perhaps someday he could muster up the courage to utter those three simple words to you.