#it means a lot to me that he doesn't tuck his shirt in - when all else fails belt it baby!

[majorbaby]

What do you mean there's no continuity on MASH? Here's Trapper doing research in S02E01 Divided we Stand for his MacArthur cosplay in S02E02 Five o' Clock Charlie, does that mean nothing to you????

[fanficgirl429]

Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)

Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you

Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt

----

“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”

Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?

He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.

“Did you check your room?” you ask.

He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.

Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”

“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.

You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.

You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.

“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”

“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”

Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.

“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.

Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”

You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.

“And who’s house is this?” you question.

“We all live there together,” Abby states.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.

“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”

Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.

“What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.

You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”

Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”

“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.

Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”

Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.

“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.

“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.

Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.

Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.

—-

Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?

Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.

All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.

—-

The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.

The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.

As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.

Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.

“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.

“How do you know?” you hear him ask.

“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.

It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.

“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.

Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.

“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.

Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.

“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”

“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.

“She said that you have a crush on me.”

“Oh. Why would she say that?”

“She said that you told her you did.”

You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.

“I-uh-,” you stammer.

Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.

“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.

A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.

You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.

“Why did you stop?” you tease him.

He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.

[typing-catastrophe]

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

[autisticgaypirates]

gettin' frisky (NSFW!) (*´ω｀*)

writing this because i'm OVULATING 💜

you guys already know wtf is gonna go down rn

fem!afab!reader, established relationship

obviously nsfw, mdni!!!!!! nothing suuuper freaky but y'know.. you can't have smut without getting your freak on a little

includes zoro, sanji, and ace

zoro ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- not big on foreplay at all, like don't even bother wondering if he'll be a tease because he won't

- oh he loves being dominant..... oh he LOVES it

- always missionary or doggy style, he likes being on top and getting the whole view

- will go even harder if you call him sir or daddy

- tbh? he's kinda a sadist, but not in a seriously harmful or hurtful way

- i mean sadist in a wants-to-smack-your-ass-so-hard-it-leaves-a-handprint way

- even though he's not a very talkative person, he LOVES to talk you through it

- he'll degrade you if you're cool with it, but if you do as he says you'll get a lot of praise

- LOVESSS to finish inside you

- he's not good at the whole aftercare thing, so you might just need to remind him your kinda.. y'know.. dripping his children

you lay beneath him in a mating press with the sound of the creaking bed and deep, heavy breaths in the background. his calloused fingers interlink with yours, pushing your hands above your head to ensure that you have no power. "you little slut, is this what you wanted for so long?" he said deeply, ramming himself inside you even harder than before. his grip on your hands tightens. "huh? huh?? you can't be silent forever. this is my pussy, and you're my bitch, answer me." you let out a high-pitched moan and choke out your next words. "y-yes zoro! it's everything i wanted!" his grip loosens as he smirks, looking down at you like you're his prey. he softens his thrusts a bit, just so he doesn't bruise your cervix. "goooood girl," he coos. "and who's pussy is this?" "yours, sir." he picks up his pace again. "and who do you belong to?" your legs begin to shake. "y-you, sir! i'm yours sir!" he goes full force as your breath hitches, a hungry smile plastered on his face. he licks his lips at you as you make your pretty sounds. "you're doing so good, i'm so close, pretty girl." his jaw hangs open as he lets out soft whimpers that harmonize with your whines as you both finish at the same time. he slowly pulls out as he watches it all pour out of you. he smirks at the sight before looking at you and placing a lazy kiss on your lips. he flops down beside you, an unconscious smile on his face as his eyes begin to flutter shut. "um..." you say, tapping him on the shoulder. he sits up and sees you pointing at your mess. "a little help here?" you say with a laugh.

sanji ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- sanji doesn't fuck, he makes love

- even though he's all over women and seems incredibly perverted, he doesn't care for the idea of hooking up with a random woman

- LOVESS foreplay and taking his sweet time

- very much a switch tbh

- his favorite position is cowgirl, but when he's feeling more romantic and less frisky, he's big on missionary

- BIIIIIIIG mommy kink (when submissive) and praise kink

- he's either whispering sweet nothings in french or screaming your name two octaves higher than his normal voice, no in between

- when he's in control though, it's so intimate and genuine and he loves loving you

- he only cares about you, he doesn't care if he'll explode if he doesn't cum, he'll wait until you're ready too

- as much as he'd love to finish inside you, he's kinda afraid to, so he'll always make sure to pull out right after you're done

- will immediately clean you up and make you tea and tuck you into bed, you're his princess

both shirts were now off, your pants off and on the floor. with sanji above you, he slowly and passionately kisses you, one hand holding him up and the other undoing his belt. after getting his pants off, he hooks two fingers on the edge of your panties that you wear specially for him. he looks up at you with soft eyes. "may i?" he says gently. you nod in response as he pulls them down and off your leg. "même si la mer nous entoure, son scintillement n'est pas comparable à toi," he whispers, slowly spreading your legs open. he leaves gentle kisses along your soft thighs before reaching your womanhood. he kisses it deeply, just grazing over your clit, before dipping his tongue in and having a taste for himself. his refusal to break eye contact with you as he eats you out drives you crazy, and he knows it. when you ever so slightly begin to feel your high, he pulls away. "merci, belle," he tells you, aligning his shaft with you. he slowly pushes himself in, making both of you let out a groan of pleasure. he bites down on his lip hard as he grips the sheets beneath you. he begins to move slowly, looking into your eyes lovingly. you do the same back, letting out a quiet whimper with each thrust. he gently places a hand on your stomach, brushing it across your body and all your curves in admiration. his hand ends up on the side of your face, cupping it. he leans in close to your ear. "you are love. we are an art, mon amour." he plants a kiss on your temple before picking up his pace, going a little harder. with a consistent rhythm and floods of sweet nothings, sanji is finally starting to reach his climax. "i love you," he whispers before going full force on you. his eyes hardly ever leave yours, and if they do, they're admiring the sculpture in which your body was crafted into. "i love you," you whisper back, breathily. "i love you," you say a little louder. "i love you sanji, fuck, i love you!" you borderline yell your admiration for him as you come down from your high, sanji's pace settling. he pulls out and finishes on your stomach, truly believing you two created a masterpiece. "i love you. i'll be right back," sanji tells you before throwing a towel around his waist and leaving the room. you already know where he's going. he's grabbing a damp rag to clean you with, a cup of your favorite tea, and running you a hot bath with your favorite scented candle. this is what making love really means.

ace ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- i'm gonna be so honest, he's so unserious about literally everything

- like you'll whip your tits out and this man will go "WOWZA!"

- he very much likes when you give him head beforehand, it gets him hard, hot, and ready

- very much dominant, but that's just because he's so passionate and so excited that he just wants to get going

- he LOVESSS doggy style, he's very much an ass man (he loves your face equally though don't worry) and he loves to smack your ass

- he's not huge on the romantic aspect and very much himself even in the bedroom

- very very chatty, loves to hear the changes in your voice and REALLY loves when you can't even speak

- when you think he's giving his all, girl not even close you just got started

- he'll compliment you on EVERYTHING, idk he kinda has this thing where he just needs to talk to you

- will ALWAYS ask if you want him to cum in you or pull out, and if you don't answer, he pulls out and cums on your ass

- aftercare with ace is so fucking funny because he'll talk about it like a sports event

you were on your knees in front of him, his shaft now covered in your saliva. he brushes his hand down your hair. "good job baby," he coos. you look up as he smiles down at you. "i'm ready for ya," he says with a smile. you stand up to an immediate smack on the ass. "c'mon pretty girl, ass up for me, i can't wait much longer," he tells you eagerly. you crawl onto the bed, ass up as you rest on your elbows. another smack, this one harder than the other. you let out a small whimper. "what a pretty sight for me," ace says under his breath, squeezing your ass and placing the tip along your slit. "a pretty pussy and nice, big ass on a beautiful girl." you suddenly feel his length push inside you, causing you to let out a yelp. he starts rocking back and forth, slow but hard. you feel his hands grip your hips to pull you up higher. each thrust makes you let out a noise of delight. "pussy is so good babe, and it's all for me?" ace asks you sweetly. "yes, yes all for you," you mutter, somehow already choking on your own words. he gives your ass another hard smack. "thank god," he mumbles before going harder into you. the wooden bed beneath the two of you is loud, and it almost feels unstable. "oh god... ah yeah," ace says, going even faster than he did before. "ohhh fuck yeah, you love it when i fuck you hard like this, huh?" "i- i fuck- i fucking love it!" "yeah? you love me, too?" "yes, yes, i- i love you, ace!" he keeps his speed but rams into your even harder. you can't speak at this point. you're yelling his name and letting out choked moans. "i love you so fucking much.." ace says with gritted teeth. "i love you, i love this pussy, i love this ass, i- gah, fuck! in or out?" "i-in!" the two of you are yelling at each other at this point. "oh god, oh god i'm cumming, mm fuck i'm cumming babe!" ace releases everything he has inside you, and the feeling of his length twitch right on your g-spot is enough to bring you to your climax as well. he slowly pulls out with a hiss, watching it all pour out of you. "damn... we did good," he says with a laugh. he grabs the towel nearby and cleans you up to the best of his ability. when he's done, you lower your hips onto the bed and flop down on your back as he crawls over to lay next to you. "have you like..." ace begins to ask. "... been doing squats lately? i always knew you had a great ass but-" "ugh, ace really?" you say with a laugh. "it's true! and y'know what, i found out that i really like when you tell me you love me during all that." you laugh and place a kiss on his forehead. "noted."

ok so this was insane lowkey and i did NOT expect to write that much for sanji but shit happens when you have a uterus

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Op characters with a clingy/handsy drunk? let's go

suggestive in Sanjis, Luffy, Brooks, DEFINITELY in Namis and Frankys and maybe Usopps? Mostly vague stuff, on that note would you guys actually be interested in like nsfw stuff? I know I'm really toeing the line here and i have drafts but I'm nervous to post😭.

Feel like this could be ooc in some places but who cares😻(me :()

Luffy

Giggles a lot, he finds it so cute and it really makes him feel warm in his chest. He can't get enough of you to be honest. Like this man loves physical touch but be warned he will think it's a sudden new level in your 'friendship'(read:in love with each other) and start acting that affectionate all the time. Willing to carry you around and also wrap himself around you so you can walk with him just there, yes this includes to the bathroom-

Zoro

Adores it. I think he actually loves affection and physical touch but just doesn't say it because he thinks it's obvious (it's not). So when you come up to him, wobbly and on your 6th drink, and just practically throw yourself into his arms hes just like :/). Makes sure you stay nice and close to him because he doesn't want you clinging to anyone else, and he always makes sure you drink water before bed even if bed involves falling asleep on top of him.

Sanji

Makes him nervous to be honest. Usually he's the forward one in the relationship but here you are untucking his shirt just to shove your hands up it. He absolutely will shriek if its in front of other people, and he's trying to wrangle your grabby hands but he really enjoys it so his resolve is so weak. Tries to satiate you by being affectionate back but it just makes you worse and he ends up taking you to a more private area so he at least doesn't have to blush in front of others.

Nami

She thinks it's so cute. Let's you do whatever you want as long as the people around you are comfortable and you've said it's fine(when sober ofc), but she doesn't really care about people seeing until you start trying to either get undressed or undress her and then she takes you to a private space because she's ever so slightly possessive. Listen for a girl who didn't have much, you add a lot of value to her life and she wants to treasure you properly, she doesn't trust anyone else to appreciate you the way you deserve.

Usopp

Surprisingly confident. You come up to him with this big dreamy smile and you're practically falling over yourself so he just- scoops you up. Front piggyback style yk, he's got one arm under your ass supporting your weight and the other one is holding his drink, listen this mf is strong okay you think a man who can build a boat isn't strong? Fool. He just lets you do what you want to be honest, one of your hands is tucked in his back pocket, the other is trying and failing to undo his overalls and he's just like "You okay honey?".

Robin

She's flustered. She's not that used to physical affection so it makes her really giggly and blushy, though she's still quite confident in her words and actions, she's fr twirling her hair around her finger. She has quite a high tolerance for alcohol but she actually gets a bit similar when she's drunk, she's more reserved of course but she just melts into you like butter on a hot pan. The crew always take so many pictures because they think it's so cute, literally every celebration you two just end up cuddling and then it sorta turns into a big cuddle pile with the crew because seeing her relax gets them emotional.

Franky

Oh baby you are looking in a mirror. He is just as bad if not worse- when he gets drunk he is a massive flirt and a massive tease. He's so giving in relationships and usually you don't have to ask twice but being drunk will mean he wants you to practically beg for a kiss. Half because he thinks it's funny and half because he's a horny bastard- Though if you get upset then he immediately drops the teasing, even when drunk he's so considerate of your feelings and your boundaries.

Brook

Doesn't mind at all but prefers to be in private when you're like this.

Quick headcannon that his bones are more sensitive than skin because there's less external protection-

Lets just say one time you touched a sensitive area in public and he will never get over the reaction he had or the fact that other people saw it. So you go to room jail as soon as you start trying to practically crawl inside his clothes to be as close as possible. He's not mad though, he giggles the entire way, he's just very shy about his interests.

Jinbei

Flustered as hell but makes him feel really secure in your relationship. Also, he lowkey loves being able to bring it up to tease you later, like he pulls an uno reverse when you're sober and you're just like omg omg omg- He's a sneaky guy fr, does so many unexpected things in a relationship. Don't get me wrong though he'd never let you do anything inappropriate, even when drunk he's very aware of boundaries and social etiquette so if he notices you getting a bit grabby then he takes you somewhere private for both your benefit and the people around you.

Sabo

Oh baby. This man is feral don't even start. The first time he experiences it, it's actually really unexpected, it's quite early in your relationship so you havent been too affectionate yet, but you come up to him and just sit down. On him. And you can practically see his brain melting out of his ears, his face goes so red you think he's going to pass out but the second you stand up, drunk and lowkey sad, he snatches you back down. You wanted to sit there, you are going to sit there now you have no choice. (You do but would you want to get up?)

Ace

Menace. Cannot even state how much of a menace. He's so physically affectionate that it usually flusters even the most confident people, and this is while sober, so if you start getting clingy when drunk he just becomes obsessed. But he absolutely hates it if you're like that with other people so once you start getting to that stage then he's whisking you away to your shared room, usually you stick to him like glue anyways but the crew love to wind him up by coaxing you away from him with food and funny stories.

[devilfic]

❝honeymoon❞

V. sins of the mother.

parts: previously plot: alfred finds yours and bruce's old yearbook. you reminisce on how you lost him... and how he came back to you all those years later. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, LOTS of angst, eventual fluff, TW for depictions of brief physical child abuse (specifically to the reader), sorry but your fictional mom SUCKS, sweet ending though. words: 3.5k. a/n: I apologize to any british readers for inaccuracies with the whole yearbook thing. from what I gather, the american concept of yearbooks has gotten popular in the uk in the last 14-ish years but if it doesn't make sense, I'm hiding behind the fact that it's a posh boarding school and also- *runs away before I can think of a better excuse*

The rapping at your door is too gentle to be Bruce, and you're proven right when Alfred peeks into your room, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Bruce's guest room had steadily become your home over the course of your engagement. You still had your own place, paying the rent in case all of this fell through in one fell swoop (and it would, you couldn't escape the nagging feeling that it would), but you found yourself feeling some semblance of ownership over the tower. You hadn't even gotten the chance to put your desk up before Bruce was offering you his study—his father's study. He insisted it was because you were CEO, like his father. You dared to think it was because he was starting to see you as family.

The tower felt even more yours when Alfred stopped by like this, checking in on you, making sure you wanted him here. You set the papers in your lap to the side with a tired smile, "What's up, Alfred?"

It turns out he was hiding something behind the door. At first, you think it's a folder, perhaps some work that Bruce needed you to do for the company or some files Alfred kept from his time managing Wayne Enterprises. But when he comes round to your bedside, you realize it's a photo album. A yearbook, to be exact.

The green leather is embellished with the sparkling emblem of Silverstone Academy. It makes your heart jump up into your throat, "Where... where'd you find that?"

"After Bruce graduated, he had me put all of his old yearbooks away in storage. Kept this one, though. Would you like to see?" He turns the book to you with a well-meaning smile, and whether he notices your discomfort and chooses to ignore it is... debatable.

Still, your hands reach for it.

The spine crackles, unopened for many years by the looks of it. You thumb through the pages, flipping past pictures of the palatial school grounds and fellow classmates in freshly-pressed regalia. You're about to turn the page on the extracurriculars when Alfred places a hand on the page to stop you, pointing to a rather large group photo, "This was Bruce's favorite, if I recall."

There are rows of you, each one standing on the bleachers of a court, all of you awkward and fourteen and just wanting the whole thing over with. And then there, amongst the rows of smiling teenagers, is Bruce and you.

"Eyes front, students! I will not say this again. We want to look good for our parents, yes? We want them to see how smart and well-behaved you are, yes? Okay, then. Eyes forward. Shoulders back. Smiles on! This is your last chance. There will be no retakes!" Is what your headmaster probably said, but you were far too distracted by Bruce's fingers tugging on the tail of your un-tucked shirt to know for sure.

You bat away his hand but can't suppress the giggle that bubbles out of you. One of your classmates turns to glare, but the heat of it doesn't reach you when Bruce is whispering, "Last one to dining hall does the loser's chores."

"I'm faster than you and you know it."

"Hey, I beat Wilbur in the race on Saturday."

"That's cause Wilbur hit puberty and can't control his body anymore."

Your headmaster's shrill call draws your attention forward, "And three, two..."

You turn and smile. You feel Bruce's eyes still on you. Just as the shutter goes off, Bruce tugs your hand instead. And, even with all your teenage obstinacy wanting to make him work for your attention, make him fight for it, you can't help it.

You turn to look at him and the flash goes off.

"I remember being quite upset with this one," Alfred disperses your memory, gently calling you back to the present, "Bruce always hated taking pictures, but pictures were all I had of him while he was away. But... can't really hate that smile he's giving you, can I?"

You feel breathless at the image of younger Bruce and the look of... adoration he wears. Everyone else is focused on the camera, some eyes closed and some smiles skewed, but Bruce is focused on you and you him. Like you are the only two people in the world. Arguing over chores and who's faster than who. Like best friends.

You don't realize you're holding your breath until your body takes in one big deep inhale for you, "He wouldn't stop bothering me."

"It's funny how we couldn't get you two to talk to each other when you first met, and then years later you were inseparable."

You remembered that. Barely in second grade and being touted around by your parents at galas. You remembered Bruce hiding behind his mother's dress, and your mother guiding you by the scruff to say hello, "British boarding school will do that to you."

Alfred snorts, "I think he just liked that someone was treating him like a person."

You glance up at Alfred's soft expression, fatherly and proud. You've never seen him look any other way with Bruce. "Will you be Bruce's best man?"

Alfred seems to startle at that question, "Oh... well, he hasn't asked, but I suppose I will. Not sure who else he'd ask."

"I don't think he'd want to," you admit, and Alfred looks confused, "ask anyone else, I mean. You're it for him."

Bruce looks just like how you remember his father, but sometimes, when the light hits Alfred's eyes just right (that same color you've come to love and mourn), you think Bruce looks just like him too. You supposed they were always meant to be family, in that inexplicable way.

Alfred watches you for a moment, struck by your statement, and then softens like the teddy bear you know him to be. "And you as well. I'm glad you both found your way back to each other."

You can tell he means it in the heartwarming way, the way you meant it, but it doesn't fill you with warmth. There are no fuzzy feelings in your stomach. There is a whirlpool.

This time, there is no doubt Alfred senses your discomfort. He seizes up. He goes to say something, something no doubt kind and thoughtful, but you beat him to the punch, "Can I keep this? I want to... show it to Bruce later, maybe. Might make him laugh."

Alfred stops in his tracks. Then, as if used to such stonewalling, stands to his full height and begins his trek back to your bedroom door, "'Course you can. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight."

He waits for your affirmative, then shuts the door behind him.

july, seventeen years ago.

The banging on your door fills you with dread the second you recognize it for what it is.

You are tangled in sheets and limbs—warm limbs, arms and legs and hands wrapped around your body in the witching hour—while the heavy oak door of your dorm room shakes with each knock. You don't know how long they've been knocking, but you fear you have very little time left to answer before you end up in worse trouble than you seemingly already are.

You shove at Bruce and he flounders, half-asleep. He almost doesn't want to let you go until he becomes aware of the banging on the door himself and presses his back to the wall behind your bed, "He snitched."

"He wouldn't! Coulson would never," you grumble, pulling on a hoodie discarded on the floor, too tired to recognize it as Bruce's, "just... get under the bed."

He does as he's told, though he looks rather peeved to do so. You grab the back of your desk chair and twist it out from beneath the door knob, and almost immediately it is thrown open by the headmaster.

Your first feeling is shock. Your second feeling is, undoubtedly, ice cold fear. You never thought you and Bruce would get away with this forever, but to be caught by the headmaster is... way worse than you could've imagined.

Headmaster Collins was a spidery man. What he lacked in muscle, he made up for in menace. His features were all gaunt and shadowy in the dark of your room, and with only the light from the hallway to capture his silhouette.

Before you can speak, he raises a single finger to cut you off, "I will discuss you blocking doors later. You have a guest."

You frown. "I..." You stammer. Even with your hand caught in the cookie jar, you don't yet want to give yourself away. Maybe he had no idea it was Bruce that kept sneaking into your dorm. Perhaps Coulson hadn't divulged that much. You and Bruce had paid him in many ways to keep that part secret above all.

You just make out the narrowing of the headmaster's eyes, "Your mother. She flew in from Gotham. She says she's worried about you."

Your stomach drops. Perhaps Bruce being found under your bed would've been better.

To the headmaster's chagrin, you corral him back out into the hall and shut the door behind you, "What? I wasn't... she didn't..."

"She failed to let us know either. I only received the call minutes ago when she arrived outside. We don't want to keep her waiting, do we?" Now, in the light of the hallway, Headmaster Collins loses some of that menace. He almost looks... just as concerned as you.

He leads you to the library in complete silence.

When you push open one of the double doors, you see there are a few candles lit, the rest of the lights dimmed low, and your mother standing with her back to you in the center of the room.

She doesn't turn around until you hear the door click shut behind you and, just like that, the headmaster has left you to fend for yourself.

Everyone always said you looked just like her. A spitting image, and one day, "if you're lucky", you'd grow up to be just as powerful. As the eldest of your siblings, it was unavoidable. Your fate had been sealed long before you were born.

She opens her mouth to speak and whether out of fear or anger, your next words come tumbling out before she can, "I already know what you're going to say."

She clasps her lips together. Then, after a moment, smiles down at you, "Well, that saves me some breath. Tell me, darling mine: what was I going to say?"

"That you know why I told you so late. And that you're angry with me for not running it by you sooner... so you could be in control of it."

"I was angry eight hours ago. Not anymore. It was almost clever of you."

Almost. A smarter, more clever you wouldn't have run it by her at all. You would've quietly disappeared off to the Waynes' vacation house in Barcelona and, inevitably, when you got the call, you'd have told your mother you wouldn't be back for the rest of summer break.

But she had her claws in you, and try as you might to defy her, you always felt those fingers curling around your conscience, drawing out of you what little truth you aimed to keep to yourself.

"So you flew all this way to yell at me?"

"To join you."

You blanch. "You... can't." There is nothing else you can say. No argument, no temper tantrum. Nothing.

But your mother is smart. The plane ride over would have given her ample time to cancel her duties for the next six weeks, offload them onto someone else because what was more important than joining the future heir of Wayne Enterprises on a summer abroad in Spain? Most people on the board would kill for that kind of opportunity. That kind of favoritism.

She's smart too in that it's only her. You imagined your siblings had been left to the nannies, and if Bruce questioned her presence, she could argue that leaving Alfred to chaperone two teenagers all by himself would be just cruel. Her presence wouldn't tip the scales too far into dangerous territory. In fact, it would be nothing if not practical.

She takes a step toward you, then another, and then another until she is looming over you. Half her face is lit by the fireplace roaring in the corner of the room, casting a shadow on the other side. Like this, she no longer looks like you. She looks something far colder, "You didn't think I'd let you run off to another country and ruin this for our family, did you?"

"What? Wh... ruin what? Bruce is my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend is Bruce Wayne. There is a very real difference."

You feel your eyebrow twitch at that, "What's your point?"

But your attitude is nasty. Far too nasty for a child. The residual sting of her hand colliding with your cheek nearly sends you back into a chair but you manage to catch yourself after a few steps, staring at the rug beneath you in disbelief.

"My point is," her attitude is much harsher, and as you wipe away the bit of spit that dribbled down your lip, she blocks your view once more, "he is not just another boy, a peer, a boyfriend. Bruce is the heir to the company, and unlike his father, he has no foresight. Under him, this company will crumble. His family's legacy will cease to exist. That is why I am here, darling mine. Why you exist. Legacies must be upheld."

You hiss in pain when she takes you by the chin and forces you to look her dead on. At this angle, you can see her whole face lit up by the fire. Through gritted teeth, you whisper in horror, "What are you asking me?"

"I'm telling you that I'm coming along, or you will not go at all."

Your heart breaks a little more than it already has. This is what you'd thought of all week, what kept you up at night and got you up in the morning. And now your mother was going to ruin it all. A tear slips down your cheek and over your mother's fingers, and she releases you to wipe her hand clean, "Please."

"You would only find some way to make him hate you, and all my hard work for the past twenty-five years would be all for naught."

"Mom."

"I've already let the butler know."

"Please let me have this."

"Tell me you understand." You remain silent, teeth almost chattering from the chill her voice gives you. Her eyes harden, "Tell me you understand why I let you have him at all."

"He's my friend."

"He's your future. Tell me." Another tear rolls down your cheek. Your mother grabs you by the arm and pulls you to her, shaking you as more tears fall. You're doing your damnedest not to sob but you're failing spectacularly, "Tell me!"

"He's my future." You gasp out.

"And why do I allow you to be friends with him?"

"Because..." You blubber, fiercely wiping away the tears, "...to uphold our family legacy."

"And?"

"To keep you on his good side."

"Keep us," she taps your chin with her finger, making you flinch, "us, darling mine. Wayne Enterprises will end with him, but it'll begin again with us. With you. Say it."

"With me."

"So we'll go together. And you will do anything he tells you to. And you will make him very happy because he is not your friend. He is our ticket to owning Gotham City."

You would've done anything Bruce asked of you because you loved him, because you trusted him. The way your mother talked about what he might ask of you made you feel sick to your stomach. She shakes you again, expecting you to say it back.

Your lips part to release a shaky exhale meant to be a word, but behind your mother, you stare past the cracked library door and into the eyes of your best friend. The only word you can get out is, "Bruce?"

Your mother drops you completely. She swings around but the door is shutting before she can catch a glimpse, and you're shoving her out of your way before he can get too far.

You throw the door open and find him rushing back down the hall, a flummoxed headmaster lingering by as you run after Bruce. You shout his name but he doesn't slow for you at all, even as your voice echoes off the old school halls. "Bruce! Bruce, please! Let me explain."

It takes more energy than you have in you to catch up with him, but you eventually slide to a stop in front of him, stopping him before he could ascend the stairs and return to the dorm rooms. You expect to see anger clear on his face, or sadness, betrayal even. Instead, he is cold. He looks right through you.

The emptiness of which he looks at you catches you completely off guard. Anger, you could stomach. But this?

"How much did you hear?"

Those eyes that used to look at you so sweetly hold nothing in them at all. He stares you down as if you should already know.

When he tries to side-step you for the stairs, you grasp desperately for his hand but he yanks away from you like you've burned him, sending you collapsing to your knees against the bottom step, "Bruce, please... I don't feel that way about you. I've never felt that way about you. You... you're my best friend. This is exactly why I shouldn't have told her about the trip, I should've just kept my mouth shut-"

"What trip?"

You look up at him and see a wave of something sharp cross his face before smoothing back over completely. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He sees the question in you, the thing you fear to ask when it hits you.

Bruce turns his face away from you, "I'll see you in September."

You sit on those steps until sunrise.

The elevator stutters to a stop at cave level, letting you out into Bruce's sanctuary. He's standing at his desk and staring at you, as if he had expected Alfred instead.

"Hey," you start, timidly approaching him with yearbook in hand, "Are you busy?"

He watches you get closer and slowly shakes his head, eyes falling to the book clutched to your chest. They widen some with recognition, a cloudy look overtaking them once you're within arm's length of him. You set the book down on his desk, careful not to disrupt his work. You go to flip open the cover but his hand comes down on the Silverstone emblem, forcing you to draw back your hand in surprise, "Where'd you get this?"

"Alfred kept it." At that, Bruce groans. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

You watch as he slides the book closer to himself, nudging away the files he'd been poring over before you'd arrived, making quiet noises of recognition here and there. When he inevitably lands on the class picture Alfred had shown you, he hesitates. You wait for him to say something, anything, but after a moment of silence, he presses on.

It isn't until he gets to the individual headshots from that year that you notice something odd. On your page, where your headshot and name should be, is a hole cut into the paper. Your heart sinks.

Your mind goes for the worst thing first (that perhaps he had hated you so much that putting away the yearbooks wasn't enough, that he had to cut you out of them too), but Bruce simply traces the neatly cut edges where your face should be.

Then he flips to the page where his picture should be, and his picture is cut out in the same fashion.

You look to Bruce for answers, but his expression is... guarded. He almost looks like he doesn't want to entertain it, almost looks like he's about to tell you to leave him to his work for the rest of the night.

Instead, he pushes the book back to you, "I kept yours in my wallet. I was going to give you mine."

You don't know what to say first, but it finds you in the lull in conversation, "You were going to?"

Bruce's mouth twists in discomfort, still not looking at you. He reaches over and shuts the cover to the book, "I thought... you might tease me about it." For a brief second, he looks at you, "Dunno where they are now."

That brief second is, of course, his tell. It was a shame. Bruce had become such a good liar since he left you on those stairs. He had to have been to get where he is now. And yet, you know in an instant that he's not being honest with you. It feels good this time.

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Behave ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Atsushi Nakajima

a/n: (soft) dom!atsushi won the poll <3 thank u everyone for ur support on my fics! every like and esp follows + reblogs count sm and i rly luv when u interact wit me, send me msgs and stuff like that, it means sm to me that u enjoy my work :3 and idk if u will come back to read this anon but if u do, i hope u enjoy it <3

genre: da nasty

content warning: f!reader. MDNI! (soft) dom!atsushi. reader is a bit of a brat. bondage (handcuffs). fingering. orgasm denial. praise (lots of it). atsushi calls you "good girl." ;)

summary: it's about time atsushi taught you to follow the rules.

no one would ever expect it.

– of course not.

the ada's sweet, blushing jinko was rushing through his paperwork all day today, so eager to get to your apartment tonight. what could he say? he just wanted to see you so badly.

he wanted to see that cute, embarrassed face of yours.

he wanted to cuff your hands behind your back and fuck you –

kunikida, for example, would never expect it.

his coworker stopped him right in his tracks while he was halfway out the door, hitting him with that unanswerable question: "where could YOU possibly be off to in such a hurry?" just as soon as he was about to leave. all atsushi could do was clutch his phone to his chest anxiously and hope kunikida didn't have the slightest suspicion about the sort of things atsushi might enjoy doing on his days off.

someone like kunikida would never understand it – no one at the ada would, really.

atsushi isn't nearly as clever as dazai or ranpo, nor is he indispensable like yosano, or strong like kenji. the bedroom is the only place he doesn't have to be anyone but himself. he doesn't need to prove his usefulness to you – between the sheets, there is no power struggle. you submit to him completely. you want him to take control.

and he'll take it – he'll take it over and over again.

by the time he reaches your apartment, it's already night. your place is is small but cozy, tucked away in a neighborhood a train ride away from yokohama, somewhere where there's not as much violent crime. you're laying on the rug on your bedroom floor, wearing nothing but his shirt and your panties, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. that's just like you to pay him no mind – to ignore him and feign innocence after playing such a dirty trick, knowing that you were probably on his mind for hours before. as he sets his bag on the bedside table, you barely move to acknowledge him, instead pleasantly thinking about how worked up and annoyed he must be at your blatant display of nonchalance.

"oh, you're here."

you turn over on your back, glancing up at him. there's that sweet face of yours. you're batting your eyelashes up at him like you hadn't done a thing at all, and now your shirt is riding up your thighs and ruching up the sides of your stomach. you know every weakness of his and exactly how to play them to your advantage. he rolls his eyes, kneeling down beside you. "yeah, i'm here."

snatching your phone from your hand, he tosses it on the bed in annoyance, and the first thing he does is scold you. "that wasn't very nice, you know, sending those videos during work. kunikida could have saw."

a frown forming on your face at his frustration, you pout at him. "did you not like them?"

you're too good at convincing him to forgive you – as if he were ever mad at you in the first place. his expression softens at your disappointed voice. you beam as he relents, pulling you into his lap and playing with the strands of your hair. "of course i did," he mutters as you relax into his gentle touch. "i liked them too much.

– but you know it's against the rules to touch yourself like that without me."

of course –

breaking the rules always meant punishment – and you'd be lying if you said this wasn't exactly what you wanted in the first place.

getting up from his position, you wait patiently as atsushi shuffles through the box hidden under your bed for the pair of cuffs saved exactly for punishments. you hear the quiet clinking of metal behind you, then feel atsushi's hands smoothing down your shoulders. "do you remember your safe-word?" he asks, and you nod, repeating it back to him.

"that's my girl..." he murmurs. his voice is a honeyed whisper in your ear, thick with desire and dripping with such sweetness as you feel him begin to adjust the restraints around your wrists from behind you. "just tell me if you want to stop, okay?" the leather is smooth against your skin but worn and slightly frayed, the cuffs already fit perfectly to your wrists from using them on you nights before. your back arches as you feel him tug on the restraints to test them, honey already collecting between your thighs at the anticipation of being touched by him.

you hear the quiet click of metal as he hooks the cuffs together. "is it comfortable?" he asks, his voice as gentle as always, and you feel his fingers intertwine with yours lovingly. you nod obediently, then melt into his touch as his hands brush through your hair, as his lips travel down your neck and your shoulder in a series of delicate kisses that you sigh into. you ache to kiss him back, to run your fingers through his silver hair, but the restraints hold you in place. all you can do is turn your body to slightly face him and hope he gets the message that you want more, that you want him to kiss you again as you tip your chin toward him, as you lean into his touch behind you.

you feel his hands grasping your waist, just slightly toying with the hem of your shirt. "you'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" – and he's brushing the underside of his thumb across your lips, gazing expectantly into your innocent eyes. nothing there but complete devotion. you nod, then his fingers are reaching elsewhere – between your thighs – and you're trembling with desire as you feel them hook under the waistband and peel the garment between your legs. "you're so wet already.

don't worry. i'll take care of you."

his fingertips are rough, calloused from all the fights he's been in, but his nails are perfectly trimmed, and he knows just where to touch you. the reassurances he murmurs into your neck make you pliant, and you spread your legs wider for him as he runs his fingers along the side of your thigh, teasing you with gentle brushes while his other hand grabs the swell of your breast. "pretty baby," he coos, and you turn your cheek toward him to gaze into his longing eyes. "you should have just waited for me to come home."

slowly dipping inside of you, you watch as your arousal drips from his fingertips. "baby, you're so wet... look," he sighs, lips soft against your earlobe. he's right – you're soaking, and the evidence is all there, the thin string of wetness webbing between his fingers as he pulls them between your legs. you gasp softly, half from embarrassment of just how wet he's made you already, and the other half from the feeling of a second finger being eased inside of you. you feel him smile behind you, grasping your waist tighter, "you can take it, baby, just like you take me. just stretch a little more."

then, he pulls his fingers out of you, and you hear the slick sound of them slipping out of you so easily. "but you want me here most, right?" he teases, his voice a low whisper in your ear, and you feel those skillful fingers of his encircling your pulsing clit – the place that he knows always makes you moan the loudest – and you nod desperately, hips chasing after his touch as you feel his fingers move farther and farther away.

"not yet, baby. not yet" –

and you obey.

you whine for him, beg for him, plead for him,

until his fingers seek you once more, until he brings you to the edge only to snatch it away over and over again.

when he can't take more of your begging, he unclasps you from your restraints, kisses up your inner thigh, gazes into your eyes lovingly and showers you with endless praises. then, pulling you into his arms, he bends you over your pillow, runs his hands up and down your body like you're a doll before taking you over and over until you've had your fill –

"that's my good girl," he whispers, kissing up and down your spine. "now you know to behave, right?"

author ps: i didn't write about the aftercare, but any bdsm scene should always ALWAYS include aftercare. + ofc atsushi would give u the best aftercare ever <3

© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

[osaemu]

KAMISATO AYATO: BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!

.ೃ࿐ modern!au: you run into your ex-best friend's brother after a long time

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns. ayaka's a little ooc. this was supposed to be 800 words but ended at over a thousand..

author's note: comm'd by @/kruinka, thanks for the trade!!

"shit, i'm so sorry—"

you look up sheepishly at the man in front of you, wincing when you see the dark, coffee-scented stain on his crisp white shirt. your face burns in embarrassment as you trip over your words, coming to a halt when you see his face.

a name registers in your brain, but you don't actually connect it to him until he clears his throat and starts to speak. "ah, don't worry about it. i have a lot of these shirts," he says awkwardly. 

kamisato ayato.

your ex-best friend's older brother.

ayato tilts his head, soft blue eyes surveying the brown liquid dripping down his chest before looking at you. thankfully, there's no sign of recognition in his face as he offers you a comforting smile. "really, there's no need to look that horrified. you're fine."

"i'm so sorry," you mumble, setting the half-empty coffee cup on a table nearby before snatching a couple napkins and stiffly handing them to ayato. "i should go."

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and start turning around before he calls "wait," essentially forcing you to stay back. ayato studies your flustered expression intently, and unfortunately, luck doesn't seem to be on your side today.

"you're my sister's friend, right?" he asks, looking down at you thoughtfully. you bite the inside of your cheek and force yourself to shrug. it'd be rude to leave now, especially since ayato's made that connection between you and his sister.

he dabs one of the napkins on his shirt, but it only makes the brown spread from his shirt to the cuff of his sleeve. you curse profusely in your head, but common courtesy forces you to take another napkin and help him out.

"so," ayato continues, "what did that mean?"

you pause, looking up at him with a confused look on your face. ayato smiles ruefully and clarifies, "why'd you shrug?"

shit.

"oh," you say nonchalantly, busying yourself with folding another napkin and soaking the coffee from his shirt into it. "nothing."

"really," ayato deadpans, slipping his hands into his pocket. "am i supposed to believe that?"

"really!" you insist, pressing the napkin into his chest a little harder than you meant to.

the truth was that it wasn't nothing — in fact, far from it. you and ayaka had a pretty bad falling out, and worst of all, it was over him. 

just under a year ago, you had offhandedly told another friend that you sort-of liked ayaka's brother (even though he was older than you by a couple years). it wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but of course, word got around that you found you had a crush on your best friend's brother. naturally, ayaka was pissed, but in your eyes, it wasn't a big deal and it wasn't even a real crush.

but rumors change stories, and what once was said to be a crush was now viewed as true love. people told ayaka that you wanted to marry her brother, and as word got around more and more, the stories just kept getting worse.

you never did find out if ayato heard the rumors. maybe ayaka told him, or maybe she didn't see the need to bother her big brother with matters as trivial as you.

"it doesn't look like it was nothing," ayato presses, a soft lilt of amusement coating his words. "tell me, pretty please? i'd love to get some dirt on my little sister."

ayato grins, widening his eyes playfully as he begs you to tell him. "c'mon, you just ruined my shirt. the least you can do is tell me what happened between you and my sister."

you shake your head, and ayato groans stubbornly. "you owe me," he tries, but you still don't reply. "please? it can't be that bad."

"oh, it's bad," you say dryly, flicking two soiled napkins into a nearby trash can. "i wouldn't want to ruin your opinion of me this soon."

ayato scoffs, removing his hand from his pocket and grabbing your chin. a little hm? escapes from your lips, and it makes ayato laugh. he eyes you pleadingly, and although you know enough about him to know that this is all just a means to an end, your heart still skips a beat at the way his cool fingers grasp at your skin.

"what are you—"

"tell me," he breathes, cutting you off as he leans in teasingly. ayato knows exactly what he's doing, and the way he sees it, there's no reason why he can't make his sister's friend (or not) blush just a little. it's cute, really, the way your breath catches in your throat. and maybe the way he can practically see the gears turning in your head makes him smile.

"ayato," a familiar voice calls from the coffee shop doorway. "what's taking you so lo— what is going on?!"

you stumble back from ayato, eyes widening in surprise at the all too familiar voice of your ex-best friend. ayaka pauses for a second, surveying the scene before narrowing her ice-blue eyes at you. 

"so, ayato," she says, resting both of her hands on her hips. ayaka turns to her brother and glares at him. "wanna explain why you're flirting with her?"

ayato laughs and gestures at the coffee-colored stain on his shirt before turning to you and offering an apologetic smile. "looks like i'm the one who should get going. we should do this again sometime."

he waves bye, and you nod in response. ayaka gives you a suspicious look before looping her arm in her brother's and sweeping him away. they gradually fade into the distance, and you eventually leave.

a couple hours later, you recieve a text.

hey it's ayato, got your number from ayaka

you wanna treat me to boba tmrw? then you can tell me everything ;)

[braxlrose]

request: bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader hcs😌 I mean, she knows she's hurting herself but she doesn't care? doesn't sleep (and even if she does, she goes to bed very late and then gets up very late, so she's usually restless, tired and barely alive/ barely in touch with reality), barely eats (and even if she eats little , I drink too much energy drinks and takes tranquilizer pills), probably does sh and takes drugs (cigarettes, alcohol and drugs) and it all makes her look practically zombie but she likes this lifestyle?

cw: self harm, alcoholic tendencies, drugs, slight ED, toxic relationship, tons of angst, swearing, NOT PROOFREAD.

bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader

• when you two first met, it was at a party and you guys ended up sleeping together that night. you fell asleep right after so he ended up staying the night at your hotel room.

• when you woke up in the morning, you brushed your teeth and then went over to your drawer to get on new clothes when you felt hands on your hips.

• you turned around to see bill smiling at you. "Sooo, how long do I have to wait before I can ask you out on a date, hmm?" you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

• "Uhmm, never? You don't wanna have to deal with my shit." you said as you pulled your jeans up.

• "Oh come on, everybody has shit."

• "Not like me. So, you should just go." you pulled on your shirt and turned back to him. He was just staring at you, smiling for God-knows-what. you had to admit, he looked amazing. he only had his boxers on, and he looked great shirtless.

• "I'll get you one day, y/n y/l/n." he smiled at you and pulled on his clothes. you rolled your eyes as he kissed you on the forehead and left.

• then you two met again at a music festival and that's when you finally decides to give him a chance after the hours of flirting he spent on you. you weren't scared though, you were sure he'd leave after he saw what you were really like. and you had accepted that.

That was a couple weeks ago. Bill became very aware of the "shit" you were talking about pretty quickly.

• whenever you were at a party with bill you'd always drink too much to the point where you couldn't see straight and your head was pounding like no tomorrow. Bill would take you back to your hotel room and lay you down on your bed and tuck you in. Then he'd sit with you until you finally fell asleep since he knew you'd just stay awake if he didnt.

• one night, you were completely wasted and he had to carry you back to your hotel. again.

"Mmm... Billy I want you soooo bad. pretty pleaaaasee?" you whispered in his ear, giggling and pouting as he unlocked your door and dragged you inside.

"You're drunk. That's not happening, okay?" He said, setting you down on your bed and beginning to wipe your makeup off.

"But Billy..." You'd whine and pout, while he'd just sit there and comb through your hair till you fell fast asleep.

"Goodnight, Schatzi." He'd whisper to you and place a kiss on your forehead.

• you'd also get angry a lot. you were in your hotel room, bawling your eyes out on the bathroom floor. It was 11 PM. your wrists were bleeding a bit from you scratching at them for so long, and your cheeks were bright red from the crying.

• you just wanted to sit there forever and wallow in your own self pity when you heard the door to your hotel open.

"Y/n! You in here?" Bill yelled to you, as you did your best to stand up and wipe your tears away. You gazed at your eyes in the mirror and there were streaks of mascara running down your face. You wiped them off your cheeks and opened the bathroom door to greet him.

"Hey! What're you doing here?" He turned around to see you but you saw his face drop.

"Are you okay? Were you crying in there?" He pointed to the bathroom. You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you closed the door. You pushed the inner part of your arms against yourself so he didn't notice.

"What? God no, I'm just tired. You should probably go." You said as you walked past him and started to change your clothes. He walked over to you and slightly grabbed your chin with his hand. He tilted his head at you and ran his fingers through your hair.

"Come on, just tell me what's wrong." You slapped his hand away and pulled on some shorts.

"I said I'm just fucking tired! Will you back the fuck off?!" You pushed him away and went to grab a new shirt to sleep him. He was bringing up emotions you didn't want to feel. You wiped away a couple tears when you felt his arms wrap around you. He placed some kisses on your shoulders and rubbed his cheek against you.

"I'm here for you, okay? Let me help you.." You could feel anger boiling up inside you. Your eye twitched. He's acting like you needed to be fixed or something. Why would he say shit like this?! You turned yourself around and pushed your hands against his shoulders trying to push his away.

"Can you get the fuck off of me! I don't need your fucking with anything just get the fuck away!" you yelled at him, tears pouring down your cheeks now. You slammed your hand against his shoulder trying to push him away.

"You don't need to push me away, y/n! It's okay!" He wrapped his arms tightly around you as more and more tears came flooding from you.

Your finger nails dug into his shoulders, harder and harder with every word. You could see him wincing in pain but he only hugged you tighter. Why would he want this?

• you hated that he stayed around. you didn't understand why he'd wanna be with someone like you? you set yourself on a path of destruction and ruined everything in your path, why would he take his chances like this?

• you were laying down in your bed when bill came around again. like before, tears were running down your cheeks and mascara was wiped all over your face but you were just laying there. not feeling anything. you had taken a couple different kinds of drugs so you were basically emotionless at this point.

• when bill walked in, he dropped everything and ran to your aid. he sat on the bed and cupped your cheek in his hand to make you look up at him.

• when you turned over at him, he couldn't see anything in your eyes. nothing. all you could remember is how sad you looked.

• he laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you and kissed your shoulders.

"do you want me to stay?" He asked, brushing your hair off of your face and pulling you closer to his body.

you just nodded and laid down against the pillows as bill whispered sweet nothings in your ear and rubbed your sides with his hands.

• it was about a month into your relationship when bill realized how little you ate.

• at first, he just thought you didn't eat breakfast but over time he noticed you didn't really eat anything unless you were offered something.

• bill also took notice when all you ate was slim jims and energy drinks. Thats when he started bringing you food.

• in the mornings, he'd come in with breakfast and give you a little kiss on the forehead. "Wakey, wakey, baby." He'd say to you and place a bunch of little kisses on your face until you wake up.

"Mmm...what are you doing here?" You said to him groggily, wiping your eyes.

"I brought you breakfast. Come on, geeet up." He'd lift you up by your arms and place the food in front of you, then he'd sit down next to you and wrap his arms around you to make sure you're eating.

"I'm not hungry, Bill." You'd say to him, resting your cheek on his arm.

"Too bad, eat up." He would take your fork and cut into your waffle and place it in front of your mouth until you opened up to eat it.

You eventually would give up and just start eating.

"Why are you doing all of this? I'm just a burden, y'know?" You say to him with your mouth full and your eyes looking up at him all cute and widened.

" 'cause I like you. And I think you're cute." You rolled your eyes and continued eating but bill would have a big, fat smile on his face.

• during the day you'd be like a zombie. your eyes would be dull and half open. Big, dark circles under your eyes and you wouldn't do much. But bill didn't mind. He would lay down with you on the couch and give you massages and kisses on your temples to relax you.

• when bill found out that you hurt yourself, he kissed up and down your body for hours. Whether it was your arms or your thighs, he'd be kissing it. He told you how much he loved you and didn't want you to hurt yourself.

• he didn't want you to feel pressured about talking about your feelings but once you did he would just hold you and listen to you talk, getting everything out. and he would never judge you for anything.

• you told him that you'd stop hurting yourself and you did. for a few days. But that changed once you got away from bill for a little while and you got high at a club.

Bill wanted the best for you but you werent good for him. You knew that, you tried to change yourself for him because you loved him so much. But in the process of being with you, he got hurt too much. You tried to tell him, but he couldn't help but love you. In his eyes, you were perfect.

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @killed-kiss @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz @victryzvv9 @banshailey

[mintmatcha]

talk about fatgum, Mint 🎤 tell us about how he yearns. tell us what goes through his head when he’s with her

cw: sex work mentioned, reader is bruised, implied abuse

He should be more concerned about you being seen coming to his apartment, especially when you're dressed like that.

"Mmm, I'm so glad you called." You gently close the door with your hip, hands full with a large brown bag and your purse. Your dress is short enough that he's afraid to see you bend over, tight enough that he can't help but watch. "Hope you like take out because I ordered a lot."

He's starving, of course. He's always this ravenous after a big fight, but he's been holding off for you. If he gains the weight and you end up figuring out who he is... he's not sure what the consequences will be. Nothing good could come from seeing an escort, but he can't keep you away.

You stride in like you belong here, placing your things on the coffee table before flashing him a smile. Then, you frown, comically big.

"Tai, baby, you look worse than ever." You reach over to his place on the couch and pinch his cheek. The little pressure aches, but not as badly as his chest does when you sound like that. "Is your nose broken?"

It's fractured up to the ridge, but it'll get healed tomorrow. "Just a little."

"Part of the job, I guess," you say, even though you don't sound convinced. You still think he's a boxer, spending his little winnings on nights with you.

"Don't worry about me." He reaches out and pats your side. "I'm just happy to see you."

You glow at that and Taishiro pretends it means something. He's not naive. He understands this is a business transaction to you, but he still lets himself pretend that this thing between you is something.

"Can I borrow one of your shirts?" You're already up and walking towards his bedroom. "This dress isn't comfortable."

"Second drawer down." You already know that. The real perk of being so tall and (normally) big is how cozy you look in his clothing. "I'll put on a movie."

"You're the best."

A couple minutes later, you're back, a comically oversized shirt acting as your new dress. Despite himself, he wonders if you're naked under there. He'll never act on it, he'll never expect or ask for sex from you during these little dates, but he can't pretend that his mind doesn't go there, especially when you bend down just like that and your neckline gaps-

A string of dark, uneven bruises trails down your bare chest. You're picking through the bag of food you ordered, none the wiser, but he's watching you, picking the spots that have been painted with concealer; the middle of your throat, a line straight under your jaw of both sides.

"You're bruised too."

You start at that.

"Yeah, well-" you inhale, then pop a dumpling into your mouth. You chew for a very long time, trying to postpone an answer. "Part of the job."

Again, he's not naive. He knows what men do to you, what you do to them. That doesn't bother him; what makes his skin crawl is the thought of their hands, closing a bit too tight, or coming down to make marks-

"It shouldn't be. If anyone's hurting you-"

"It's not like that." Suddenly, you settle down on his lap, feet tucked under one thigh. Your skin smells like saffron and sweetness, a hint of sweat underneath. Upclose, he can see your foundation is thicker than usual, poorly evened up over one cheek. "Here, say 'aw.'"

You hold a piece of food out by your fingers.

"I'm not hungry."

You sniff the air. "That's a lie-- come on, you're too skinny."

He hates and loves your little quirk, the ability to literally sniff out when something is wrong--

His lips close around your fingers for a moment longer than they need to.

"You're sweet." You say. "I wish all of my regulars are as sweet as you."

[nicksolemnlyswears]

Hello, how are you?

I just wanted to say how much I loved your stories with Han. He's my favorite character and the way you portray him is so accurate. I was swooning with every word hahaha.

Can I please request something with Han as a father? I would love to see him and reader with a little girl that's attached to his hip. How do you think he will act with her milestones? (he would be the type of dad who will cry at his daughter's wedding, even if he denies hahaha).

Thank you so much and have an amazing day 🌹🌹🌹

pairing: dad!han x daughter

words: 3.4k

warnings: none. i think there's only one curse word.

notes: ohh i love this request! i had something like this planned since in the headcanons i made him a girl!dad. i got you nonnie! if you want any of these prompts explained a bit better, let me know! i tried to write as much as possible but i also wanted to cover most of her youth. so, i tried to write a bit of every stage.

-when his baby girl is born han's world shifts. he was so insecure about becoming a dad because for so long it wasn't in his cards. but then she's born and he's over the moon. how could he ever doubt it?

-han is very hands on with taking care of his daughter. both because he loves it and because he wants to help his wife. she carried baby girl for a little more than nine months. of course he's taking the night shift. he's a night owl anyways.

-he has a sixth sense, like women do. whenever his baby is about to cry he feels it. he'll come up to her crib only to find her with a wobbly lip and watery eyes. he'll coo at baby girl and pick her up, rocking her until the sniffles are gone.

"there, there, baby. daddy's here, don't cry," he'd say bouncing her while holding her. her head tucked into his neck.

-baby girl is obsessed with her daddy's voice. she listens so closely when he speaks. if he's talking to his wife and she's on the high chair she'll stare attentively at him, trying to understand the words. the wife thinks it's because he used to talk to her belly when baby girl was still cooking.

"what do you think, baby girl?" han turns to ask her, smiling when she babbles nonsense.

-those long night where she refuses to sleep, crying even after he's fed and changed her, han sings to her softly. whatever song comes to his head.

he doesn't remember any lullabies from his childhood, so he makes do. that being said, there have been times han has sung inappropriate songs with bad words but he shrugs it off. it's not like baby girl understands yet.

-whenever han isn't present when she wakes up at night because he's at the races with the crew, baby girl acts so confused, clutching onto mom's shirt and searching for han. "daddy's not home, honey. just you and me," her mom would say, ready to spend hours calming the baby because she misses han.

-baby girl and mom are close too but she's so blatantly a daddy's girl. her mom just stops trying to impress her and accepts the crumbs of affection her daughter gives her.

-unsurprisingly baby girl’s first word is 'dada.' han would be beaming, asking her to say it again. baby girl is amused by all the attention he's giving her so she keeps repeating the word until it loses all meaning.

"come on, baby. one more time. say dada," han coo's, holding his baby on his lap. mom would roll her eyes and smile at the pair of them, giggling amongst themselves.

-han gets baby girl a lot of toy cars to play with. fuck gender norms. he would get cars in whatever color baby girl prefers. playing with her on the floor for hours at a time.

-there are nights, once baby girl becomes a toddler, that she refuses to sleep. han buckles her into the carseat in some expensive four door sports car and drives around the neighborhood because the rumble of the engine puts her to sleep within seconds.

-the older she gets the more she imitates han. gets to the point where han has to be very careful of what he says and does. if he doesn't have greens in his plate, baby girl won't eat hers because daddy's not eating any.

-baby girl drags han into pretend tea parties. he plays along, sipping from the empty plastic teacup. she forces a small tiara on his head as well.

-makeovers are a must. hans wife often has to hold back her laughs, finding him with kid eyeshadow smeared on his face, lipstick outlining his lips and two out of ten nails painted messily.

-she picks up his mannerisms and turns into a mini han. the toretto crew call her just that because of how much she resembles him. oh, if roman fucks around with han, baby girl comes to the rescue.

"ay yo rapunzel, let down your hair," roman says with an obnoxious laugh when he spots hans overgrown hair.

baby girl as quick as a whip, pans to roman and responds, "at least he has hair. what's your deal, baldy?"

oh, everyone that heard was on the floor laughing. baby girl said it so seriously, a frown on her face as she defended her daddy.

"that's my girl!" han cheers, kissing her chubby cheek, making her smile again.

-there would be a time where baby girl would get in between her mom and han. if they were being romantic, holding hands or even kissing she would push them away and cling onto han.

"no, daddy is mine," she would screech.

"but baby, that's your mom. my wife. i love her very much," he'd say to baby girl while picking her up.

"does that mean you don't love me?" baby girl gasps, her eyes watering.

"I love you so much, baby girl. you're my number one girl. don't tell mom, okay? it'll be our secret!" he loudly whispers, kissing her chubby cheek.

the wife would be amused at this exchange and would throw him a dirty look he'd laugh at. he'd make it up to her later in bed.

-his habit of singing random songs to calm her down would backfire. one day as he drives baby girl to school he’d hear her singing along to fergalicious. it’s possible han played it one too many times in the car. his wife is going to kill him.

-han would express wanting to teach baby girl to drive at eight years old. mom immediately refuses. she can't even see over the steering wheel! it leaves him no choice but to postpone the driving until she's ten.

-when he does teach baby to drive his heart swells with pride. she's a fucking natural at it. they'd drive around a calmer part of town, sunglasses on and music blasting.

"if you feel the car, you'll know what to do. life is like that too. be aware of your surroundings and how people react to things. you'll learn a lot from it," were han's words when he taught baby girl to drive.

he will never admit out loud that baby girl at twelve years old is a better driver than his wife.

-nonetheless, baby girl spends a lot of time in the garage with han while he works on the cars. after school she'd finish her homework quickly to assist han with the tools.

"wrench?" he'd ask.

"wrench." she'd say, handing him the tool.

"drill?"

"drill."

"snack?"

"which one?"

-baby girl remains clingy until puberty happens. the mood swings are killer not to mention the cramps. not only that but whenever she's out and about she would want to act cool and not like a daddy's girl. she lets go of han's hand whenever she sees a friend and runs out of the car before school without giving him a goodbye kiss on the cheek. it's probably the first time han's heart breaks. she's not a little kid anymore.

-INSISTS that han calls her by her name if her friends are around. he refuses. doesn't care if it embarrasses her.

-the dreaded day finally comes when she has her first date. mom is excited, helping her get ready while han waits in the living room all broody and pouty. bag of chips in his hand to ease the nerves.

finally baby girl comes around, dressed all pretty with a bit of makeup and her hair nicely done. she looks nervously towards her daddy, waiting for his reaction. while han's heart breaks again he acknowledges he has to come through as the cool dad.

"you look beautiful, baby girl," han tells her, a small smile on his lips.

she smiles nervously, "thanks, daddy."

her crush would arrive and they would go to the movies. his parents driving them. han wouldn't be that far behind in mom's car because it blends in with the cars out on the streets. he would sit rows behind them to keep an eye on the snotty kid that asked his baby girl out.

nothing much happens, they're just 14. at most he wraps his arm awkwardly around her shoulders or they hold hands throughout the movie.

he sneaks out before the movie ends and drives home, forgetting they're going for ice cream afterwards. it's there where the kid gathers the courage to kiss her. her first kiss. it's a good thing han isn’t there or he would've had a heart attack.

-once baby girl moves on to high school she chills out. she lets herself be seen with her daddy. every girl in her high school has a crush on han. i mean he drives her in an expensive sports car and he looks so cool opening the door for her, his salt and pepper hair as flawless as ever.

-lowkey she likes being the girl with the hot dad. it kinda makes her popular or at least the cool kids invite her to all the parties because of it. the girls drool over her dad and the boys over the cars...and her mom too.

-whenever he has to pick her up, he waits outside the school, leaning back on the hood of the car, arms crossed and sunglasses covering his eyes. the girls would eat it up and baby girl would look at them in disgust, cursing them out for ogling at her daddy.

-han spoils baby girl like crazy. it drives her mom mad. she wants this new blush from rare beauty? consider it purchased. after school she wants a snack from the convenience store? he'll get a bunch of them.

"i saw these shoes at the mall that were so pretty, daddy," she'd hum, plopping on the couch beside her.

mom would be glaring at han from across the living room, shaking her head no.

han would stare straight forward, "that's nice, baby."

best believe there would be a bead of sweat on the back of his neck from his wife's intense glare. the moment he got a moment alone with baby girl he'd slip her the amount the shoes are worth, giving her the ‘don't tell your mother' look.

days later he would hear a scream, "HAN LUE!" the wife found out about what he did. hard not to when baby girl is sporting brand new shoes for school.

-baby girl would be into a sport. whether it's volleyball, softball, basketball, martial arts, or fencing. whichever sport doesn't matter. han would attend every game, carry the heavy equipment bag for her, and be her biggest fan.

i think han could get intense at the games. if the referee wasn't being fair he's approach them and exchange some stern words. then, he'd go back to his seat and keep cheering her on. he would definitely treat the whole team to dinner afterwards or a treat like ice cream.

-baby girl and han would be so attached at the hip he would know all her friends name, the drama in the friend group, who is dating who, and who's on baby girl’s bad side. baby girl would get into the car after school and just go on and on about what's going on in the school. han being the person he is would know exactly what to ask to get her to keep talking and spill all the beans.

he lowkey enjoys the gossip and would be waiting for updates. like imagine it's 9 at night and baby girl is on her phone in her room and he'd knock and peak his head in, offering her some chocolate or candy.

"so, what's up with caroline? she break up with matt yet?" he asks, trying to act unbothered.

baby girl would would instantly sit up and pat her bed for him to sit, "now that you mentioned it, they broke up! but here's the kicker, caroline has been spotted around school with tyler, his best friend!"

-this closeness allows baby girl to be open with han. in the past he’s told her that whatever she’s done or if she’s in trouble she can count on him. want to go to a party? go ahead and be careful. got drunk at said party? call me and i’ll pick you up. you won’t be in trouble. puked in my car? i’ll clean it but no new shoes for a while.

-han would throw baby girl a sweet sixteen party or a quinceañera (if his wife just so happened to be latina)(let's be real he's mister worldwide, like pitbull). it's a succesful party, he goes all out and spends too much money. baby girl has a blast though, making it all worth it. she danced the whole night away with her friends and even asked han to dance some slow songs with her.

-han will definitely get her a car for her sweet sixteen. it would be a car she's been wanting since forever. han would modify it so it's more unique and fits her style better. he'd add a huge bow on top to make it abundantly clear that's her birthday gift. he'd add one of her smaller toy cars from when she was a baby to her keychain.

-honestly, han would probably be the type of guy to get baby girl those huge keychains that have a taser, a poof ball, a stabby thing, and a whistle in her favorite color.

-baby girl is super smart and the time comes when she has to set off to college. han is miserable on her graduation day, watching her walk on the stage and give her valedictorian speech. she's been accepted to a fancy school for smart kids...far away from home.

he's fully capable of moving his whole life to whatever place that school is in but his wife holds him back. it's time for her to go and start building her own life. she'll forever be his baby girl.

-baby girl makes it her goal to spend the whole summer with her parents. she follows han around like when she was a child, helps him in the garage, goes out shopping with him, and take late night drives to talk about the latest gossip on her friends.

-in august she has to go settle into her dorm. the ride to the airport is quiet, baby girl didn't want any tears. she checked into her flight, dropped her bags off and headed for the line for tsa.

she hugged her mom tight, giving her a kiss on the cheek and turned towards her daddy. she threw herself at him, hugging him so tight.

"be safe, okay? if you don't like it and you want to come back home, that's fine. whatever you need let me know," han whispers in her ear as they hug. he holds back his tears since he promised her no tears.

"bye daddy," she mumbles, stepping back.

she grabs hold of her carry on bag and walks away without looking back. han knows that tears are underway, though. it's his sixth sense. as baby girl walks through tsa she looks back and sure enough there are fat tears rolling down her face.

-his life feels empty when he returns to the house. his wife comforts him, even if she's sad about her daughter's move. he reassures her he's fine but she knows better. han and baby girl have been attached at the hip since she was born.

-those first weeks are hell. han can't shake off the habit of knocking on her door at night to check up on her. often times he'd grab two of something to share it with her until he remembers she's gone.

-a friday night he receives a call. baby girl is face timing him.

"missed me, old man?" she'd beam at him. she's in her dorm room, getting ready to go out. she’s into clubs now much like her daddy was years ago.

the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

"i don't know what you're talking about. you called me," he'd chuckle.

"i got some hot goss for you. caroline is pregnant with twins!" she'd scream into the phone, picking up a brush to apply her blush.

just like that a new habit would form. almost every night baby girl would call him to tell her parents all about her day. sometimes the conversations are short but other times they could go on for hours. all she wanted was to hear his voice.

-han looks forward to those calls. he always answers no matter if he's sleeping or out with the crew. if he's with the crew the phone would be ripped out of his hands as everyone says hi to baby girl. best believe there would be a jab thrown at roman. the two of them never quite got along.

-on her third year of college she comes home for the holidays, bringing a boy with her. her boyfriend. baby girl and his wife blind sided him, he had no idea this person was coming into his home. if he thought he was staying with baby girl in her room he's wrong! the guest room it is for the boyfriend.

-han hates to admit it but the boyfriend treats baby girl like he's supposed to. like a goddamn queen. he even peels her oranges for her so she doesn't ruin her nails.

-the boyfriend seeks han's approval. han basically has him as a lapdog during the holidays, keeping him busy with things to do while han spends time with baby girl. she notices,of course, but says nothing on the matter. if her boyfriends wants han's approval he has to do what han tells him to.

-at the end of the holiday's, when it's time to return to campus, han pats him in the back and says, "sees you in the summer, kid." baby girl's boyfriend proved his worth, now it's in his hands not to screw things up.

-two years later that same boy visits han and his wife and asks for her hand in marriage. han reluctantly agrees. baby girl has just gotten back from college this year. she's finally back under his roof and she'll be leaving him again. her boyfriend is a fine man, though and he'll make her happy.

-just like her huge party when she was a teen, han throws a big wedding. it's everything out of baby girl's dream.

han walks her down the aisle, her hand holding onto his arm as she stares ahead at the man of her dreams. her soon to be husband. he looks at her approaching with tears in his eyes from how beautiful she looks.

"i love you, baby girl," han tells her, kissing her cheek, careful not to ruin her makeup.

"i love you too, daddy. thank you for everything," she responds.

it's so hard for han to let go of her hand. still, he hands her over to her fiance and tells him, "take care of her. it's my life you have there."

"i promise."

-han's heart breaks for the last time he hopes. the ceremony is beautiful and the vows make people cry. han watches his baby girl up there. she's no longer a baby, she's a woman. yet he still sees that baby who would calm down at the sound of his voice.

it's later in the reception where the water works happen. baby girl grabs a microphone and says, "as many of you know, my favorite person in the whole wide world is my dad, or daddy, as i still proudly call him. he's made me the person i am today. all my quirks, my interests, and my morals are all things i've gotten from him. i couldn't of asked for a better father. my god he spoiled me to no end and taught me the best lessons there are, including how to change a tyre, which has proved to be very useful. i'm going to stop talking now and ask for you to come up here and dance with me."

so far, han is composed. he stands and grabs her hand to dance to the song she chose. (i imagine it to be first man by camilla cabello. it's a beautiful song.) they sway to the music and it's while listening to that song that the first tear falls.

"don't cry, daddy," baby girl sniffs, swiping it away.

"i'm so proud of you, baby girl," he says as more tears tumble down his eyes.

"gosh, you're making me cry," she says, looking up to prevent the tears from falling.

"it's okay, i paid for the waterproof makeup," han jokes, pulling her into a tight hug.

she'll always be his baby girl. no matter what. in his eyes she could do no wrong.

fin.

han would be a great dad. i didn’t get into the dark side of the business here. i wasn’t sure how to write it in. but be rest assured he’d keep her safe from it all.

thank you for reading! i hope you liked it!

-nikki 🤍

[ddejavvu]

Seeing Aaron for the first time with the fbi vest on 👀 the vest stays ON 😉

just know i wanted this to have the same energy as the scene where derek gets shot and he flashes his bandaged abs at penelope and she just pets them like 😵

--

The door clicks shut behind you, soft and smooth. It's a sound you're well accustomed to now, and not even the soft sizzle of the oil in your frying pan can trick you into ignoring it. You've got a trained ear for the click, because it means that Aaron's home.

He closes the door near-silently because he's nervous about waking Jack up. Even though it's mid-afternoon, old habits die hard.

As it happens, today is a day that Jack naps. He's passed out, spread starfish over your bed, head on Aaron's pillow and leg thrown over one of yours. You'd run him ragged at the playground today, and you're using the down time to make yourself some stir-fry.

"Aaron," You call, your voice a soft hum so that it doesn't disturb Jack from the other room, "In the kitchen."

"Hi, honey." He murmurs, arms slipping around you from behind, "Early day today, we just helped the local PD with an arrest. They needed a door-breaker, and Morgan is legend. 'Figured I'd let everyone off early to get some lunch."

You let out a soft laugh at the mention of his bulky agent, you'd recommend him for the job, too. You turn your head to press your lips sloppily against his, an awkward angle but a sweet gesture. He reciprocates as best he can, eyes fluttering shut.

"Jack here?" Aaron inquires after you part, nose tucked into your neck.

"Yeah," You hum, eyes on your stir-fry as it sizzles, though you're leaning into Aaron practically hard enough to knock him down, "He's napping. I wore him out at the park."

"Good job," Aaron chuckles, squeezing your waist. He makes to toe off his shoes by the door, but when he separates from you a soft rrrip is heard, one that strikes fear into your heart for the pretty blouse you're wearing.

"What-?" You peer down, expecting to see a hole in your shirt. Instead, you catch a thick black strap that hangs off of Aaron's chest, in fact, there's several, lining up and down his- oh, fuck.

He's wearing his bulletproof vest. The dark grey material molds tight to his abdomen, straps stretching around his torso. It only adds heft to his build, something that makes your mouth water. If Aaron notices any drool, he attributes it to the smell of the stir-fry on the stove.

"You..." You reach out to brush your finger over the bottom of the vest, "You brought home your vest?"

"Kind of forgot about it," He shrugs, watching the cloudy look in your eyes, "Everything okay?"

"Mhm," You hum casually, "Yeah that's- this is more than okay. It's... is this something you wear a lot?"

"Uh, every time I think someone might have a gun," He chuckles bewilderedly, "What is up with you?"

"Nothing." You breathe, looking up at him dazedly. He's staring at you, entirely unconvinced, but he doesn't have time to drill you any more when you take hold of his chin, dragging him into a kiss.

If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. You feel his hands encase your cheeks, pulling you closer even if your hands are doing so around his sides. You brace your palms against his vest, feeling the way that it gives him an extra layer of stomach, like a muscle of it's own, always flexed.

"Not that I'm-" Aaron speaks, but his words muffle when you keep pressing incessant kisses to his bottom lip, "-complaining, but- what is this about?"

"You look damn good in that vest, Hotchner." You purr, stir-fry the last thing on your mind as your thigh comes up to stick to his side, "Jack's asleep on our bed, just take me here."

"Uh, wow." His eyes widen, not negatively so, though, as a laugh escapes his throat. You're tempted to swallow it, but you're more focused on his neck, now, nipping down the heated skin.

"First of all," He reaches forward to turn off the stove, nudging the pan onto a back burner, "Sex would be unpleasant in a burning building. And second," He grips your thigh in one hand, fingers digging roughly into your flesh so that it bulges between his fingers, "The kitchen counter won't be comfortable for you. Let's do the couch instead, honey."

[thebearmage]

Hiii, could you write a one shot about Five Hargreeves being all cuddly and sleepy with his lover? the time is set in season 3 after the robe scene where he talks to his siblings and they're all eating take out.

In Their Arms

Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader

Summary: Five hasn't gotten the chance to rest for 20 days. Trying to save the world from apocalypse after apocalypse. Now, his body seems to be catching up to him. But luckily, you are there to catch him.

Five and reader are both 18+

You sigh as hot steam fills the room. You were sitting in the sauna by yourself, wrapped in a simple towel.

Five had taken a bath before you and had even offered to share, but you wanted to be left alone for a little.

It was nothing against him, and he understood, you just needed to decompress. Process a few things.

You had crash landed in 1963 with Diego. However, when he became obsessed with saving JFK, he quickly ditched you. Much to your annoyance.

You had wandered by yourself, taking odd jobs for cash but never staying in the same place twice. You didn't have powers of your own, but that doesn't mean you weren't powerless.

Thinking back on it, you realized how fucked a lot of the shit you had to go through was. Your heart reached out to Allison, who you knew had it worse.

You sigh and put your head in your hands, taking the moments you needed to process. After a while, you wrapped yourself in a towel and went back to your room.

You had stolen a pricy necklace back in '63, which, when paired with Luther's watch, had given the group three rooms.

One had two beds, Viktor and Allison had taken that room. One room had some bunk beds and a spring mattress, the rest of the boys took that one. So, you and Five were left with a tiny room with a single bed.

Neither one of you was complaining.

When you made it back to the room, you take the robe off. Wincing a little at the few wounds you'd gotten back at The Academy.

Jamie and Slone had attacked you before realizing you were powerless. Once they did, Jamie scoffed and said you weren't worth her time, but Sloane apologized and even offered to treat your wounds.

You were both touched and insulted by Sloane's offer but knew her heart was in the right place.

You change into a loose t-shirt and shorts, gently pulling up your shirt to bandage your wound.

You heard the door open behind you and a hiss of breath.

"Shit, did you get that at the academy?"

It was Five. He quickly walked over to you and guide your hands down, helping you bandage your wound.

"Yeah," you grunt when he presses a bit too hard, "It's just a bad bruise, I'll be fine,"

"Who was it?"

"Five..." you scold, "Don't, she apologized,"

Five growls but doesn't say anything, just continues to bandage you.

After he was done, you kiss his forehead, "Thanks, baby,"

You lay down in bed as Five changes into similar clothing to yours.

Suddenly, he stops. He's got his shirt halfway on, you notice the abrupt lack of movement and look up.

"Five?"

Five sways a bit, before shaking his head and pulling the shirt over his head, "I think I need to lay down,"

He slowly sits down on the edge of the bed. You slowly sit up to properly look at Five.

He looks so tired. Eyebags under his eyes, slumped posture, slow blinking. This man has been through hell and back, and it finally seemed to be catching up with him.

You hold your arms out, "Come here,"

He turns to you, "Huh?"

You smile, gently bracing yourself against the headrest, "Come here, baby.

Five blinks slowly before crawling over to you. You gently guide him into your lap, head tucked under your chin.

Five was stiff for a few moments, clearly testing to see if he liked the contact. You gently rub up and down his arms, before gently wrapping a spare blanket around him.

“Oh, baby," You coo, gently running a hand through his hair, "You take such good care of everything. The world, your family, me. But I think it's time you let yourself be taken care of,"

Five's body starts to slump onto you more. He nuzzles into your chest and wraps his around your waist. He's on top of you now, but you're both comfortable.

Five sighs. You're so warm and comfortable. He doesn't want to move. Why would he move? Why would he do anything else but lay here, wrapped up protectively in your arms?

Five feels his eyelids grow heavy. Your hands continue to pet through his hair and run soothingly up and down his back. Why do anything else? Why kill? Why fight? Why push forward? Now is not the time for that.

"Looks who's struggling to stay awake," You tease softly, voice no louder than a whisper.

Five whines, hiding his face away in your chest, "Noooo, I'm fine,"

“You can barely keep your eyes open,” you chuckle softly, “It’s okay, baby. You can fall asleep in my lap. I’ll hold you, all night long, just like this,”

Five hums, completely relaxing against you. You gently tilt his chin up and begin leaving kisses down his neck. Not to arouse, but rather to calm.

Five sighs in bliss

You kiss up Five's neck to his ear, “I love you,” you whisper right into his ear. You then start to gently kiss the lobe, 

Five squirms a little, laughing softly, “Y-Y/N! S-stop!”

You laugh too, “Stop squirming! I’m not even kissing that hard! You’re just ticklish!”

“A-am not!” Five protests weakly. You slowly start to stop, 

“Well, what if I move my lips over to your forehead,” You kiss Five's forehead, 

“Then your nose,” You kiss his nose, 

“Then finally, your lips,” You kiss Five's softly, trying to put all the love you feel into one kiss. You break away after a little, “I love you, baby. I love you so, so much,”

“I love you too,” Five lays back down on your chest, smiling.

“I know you do,” You purr, resuming your earlier movements, “You’ve shown me that every day. And I can never describe how thankful I am for that and for you,”

You kiss Five's head, "Now, just rest, my love. I'll be here when you wake up,"

Five smiles and finally lets his eyes flutter closed. He curls into you a little more, before finally drifting to sleep.

———————❖———————

WOO! Finally got this request done! So sorry it took so long, Anon! I'll get better at answering requests! Thanks again for the request and feel free to send more in!

[linomilkers]

How about when you use a Safe word? You can do it with either Lino or Chan <3

Sure :-) thank you for requesting! I chose Chan this time around but let me know if you want Linooo next :-)

[warnings: dom/sub dynamics, safe word use, spanking, degradation, overstimulation, subspace]

____________________

Chan was stressed.

Of course he was; comebacks were tiring, leading up to it, during it, and even after it sometimes, the schedules could be packed and busy with little time for reprieve. All of them let the weight of it sit on their shoulders but for Chan it's just a little different -- being the leader is just a little different. He's tired and stressed for himself, and he's tired and stressed for all of the members. While he lightens their load, he triples his own. He's always done that.

Y/N knew he'd be calling her more because of it; she would have been shocked if he didn't, honestly. He always messages her when things are a lot and he needs some sort of reprieve, at least a couple of hours where he can be mindless and follow his more base instincts. Split her thighs, tuck himself between them, and do whatever it is that he wants to do.

They've got rules established, and a safe word always, and Chan is good about following both. In the moment he may say something possessive, maybe a little mean about how she's a whore, she's his whore, to have and to fuck and to claim -- but afterward he's always so grateful. They weren't together and for some reason he's convinced himself that Y/N gets nothing out of this arrangement ("You're good in bed and I cum a lot and you feed me after, I think I get plenty out of this too, dummy."), so he treats each experience with a lot of care.

Because Chan on a good day is a little rough in bed, and likes to squeeze and manhandle and toss her around like she was a rag doll for him only. On a day he's let stress fill his bones? He's spanking and slapping and biting; Y/N is okay with all of that -- she likes it, if she didn't then she would tell him and they'd never do it again, but it's seldom he does something she doesn't enjoy. Sometimes she'll slip into that soft, floaty spot; where it's nice and quiet and Chan makes all the decisions so she can just let her mind flutter off. Chan can usually tell when it happens and he's mindful of it, and keeps doing what he's doing but with a softer edge, more praise, a few sweeter words. She's still a whore, sure, but she's his sweet whore -- that makes a difference in the moment.

Tonight had started out no different! It was the same set up -- she got a message around 8PM while she was snuggled in her blanket on the sofa. Y/N reached for her phone on the cushion beside her, saw that it was Chan asking if she was free, and she replied.

That depends. . .do you have snacks?

lol do you want snacks?

yes

I'll get some snacks then

okay, omw

Chan doesn't expect her to dress up so she usually doesn't, and since she'd just showered for the night, she was in a big shirt and some soft new pajama bottoms that she'd gotten a couple of weeks ago. She gave him a few minutes to actually get snacks for her before she grabs her things, looping her bag over her shoulder and petting her her cat on the couch before heading out. This would be the third time this week he's called, but Y/N had told him she'd be busy next week so she wondered if he was just trying to get it all out of his system now.

The drive to his dorm isn't too ridiculous, so not much time passed between the time he messaged her to her getting there. She knocked, he let her in with a shy little giggle and his dimples popping, and he complimented her shirt (it had a duck on it) while he played with the hair at the nape of his neck -- all of it was the usual stuff.

They usually don't just jump right into it; Chan likes the build up, playing around it, dancing around each other. He invites her into his room, sometimes they pass Jisung who is always polite and has his headphones around his neck (Y/N doesn't know if it's in preparation or not but she's too embarrassed to inquire). Maybe she gets to hear some of the stuff they're working on or maybe he wants to not think about work at all, and they'll just chat, and gab, and Y/N is just the right amount of bratty that gives him a reason to be rougher with her. She always waits patiently though, for him to be comfortable, to make the first move, to crawl into the bed where she's usually sitting stretched out and tucking his face into her throat. He'll kiss up her neck, suck a bruise just beneath her jaw, make his way to nip and bite at her mouth.

Y/N is good with everything he does with her -- to her -- usually. She can handle the overstimulation, and the degradation, and the swats to the inside of her thighs, or how he slaps her breast before grabbing and kneading it. She loves all that, it makes her tremble and squirm, and it's just good. Too good -- so good that she just slips right into subspace without even realizing it.

And Chan doesn't realize it either; he can't see her face, to be fair, and she thinks that's usually a dead giveaway. She's covered in drool and cum and bruises, she's sore, he's made her cum 4. . .maybe 5 times at that point and she was quivering with every breath. And he was still saying things, being rough, being mean how she usually likes, but maybe not right now -- maybe she wanted to be told she was good, and she wanted to be pet on, and cuddled against.

But her back was cold because he wasn't stretched over her how he usually is, and his nails bite into her hips. "Just a filthy hole," he grits through his teeth, the sound of their hips colliding and her squelching around him the only things echoing in the room, "Made for me to fuck. Have you always been such a little whore?"

She gasps when his hand slid around her, his fingers swirling over her clit and her toes curl but it's too much, "M'not a whore," she whines, muffled into the pillow.

"Mm, sure," he hums, mocking her as he swats her bum, "And the sky is neon green. If you weren't a whore then why would this pussy take my cock so easy, hm? You opened up like you've been begging for it -- don't I fuck you enough?" Y/N can't answer, her muscles are tight all over, she feels overwhelmed with her chest swollen and her breath caught in her throat. He slaps her bum again, it's a stingy burn she usually likes but now she gasps again and grimaces, "Answer when I ask you a question. Or do you want me to spank your ass until it's sore?"

"Pineapple," Y/N whines out, the first time muffled with the pillow still but she pulls her face from the cushion that she'd been clinging onto, shaking her head, "Pineapple!" She repeated, puffing a harsh breath through her nose.

Y/N doesn't use her safe word often, but from when she has, she knows Chan is always good about it. Just like he is right now -- he slips out of her gently and takes his hands away from her swollen button. He doesn't let go of her hips because he's the only thing keeping her from flopping down on top of the dried cum and the wet little spot she'd been making from how wet she was. He scooted them over just a hair and shoved the sheets that were beneath her out of the way, before guiding her onto her back.

Y/N feels bare and cold as the sweat cools on her skin from the fan blades whipping above them. She hugs her arms around herself but Chan pulls a knitted blanket from the end of the bed and pulls it over her, "Is it okay if I touch you?" He asks, his voice careful and gentle. Y/N nods quickly -- she hadn't fallen that deep into it (when she does that, sometimes she can't even find the words or her voice to speak them).

He cradles her cheek in his hand, wipes away tears that she hadn't realized wet her skin before pressing a gentle kiss to the lips he'd only just been biting and gnawing at earlier, "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, "Was I being too rough?"

"Just -- just a little," she caught her breath, curling into the blanket but pressing close to his body. His chest was broad and he smelled good, she noses her way into it, "Felt like. . .felt like a lot when I feel like this."

"Hm?" He's confused but the cogs in his brain click and turn quickly then, "Ohhh," he wrapped his arm around her, flattening his palm between her shoulder blades and keeping her pressed close, "I see. You're feeling floaty, aren't you?" She nodded, "Sweet thing, it is hard to handle when someone's being rough with you like this. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she presses a kiss to the center of his chest, his skin soft, "You didn't realize."

They spend some time like this, Chan rubbing her back, her arms, pushing kisses to her forehead -- it's sweet and warm and soft. The aftercare (even if it's premature) is always the best part, Y/N would say, and she thinks Chan likes it too. He likes to feel needed and to take care of people, and this is a way of doing it in such a relaxed way. Just snuggling close, being kissed, told that she did so well for him that she made him feel so good. Eventually she pulls out of it, and when she does, she untucks her face from his chest and lies her head on his bicep. She blinks at him, and he smiles, dimpled and sweet, "Are you okay?"

"Mhmmmmm," she hums, "Right as rain."

"Good," his smile gets bigger, "Do you want to stay and order take out and maybe watch a movie or something?"

Y/N raises her brows, "You already fucked me, what are you trying to butter me up for?" She's only joking -- they do this all the time, because they were just friends at the start of this with no benefits included but she loves seeing how his face warms up bright pink and he's patting her bum and whining at her.

"Hey, I'm not buttering you up!" He grumbled, "I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?"

Her heart squeezes in her chest, then feels like it swells up, and pushes her ribs to the side to make room for it. He has a nasty habit of making her feel all gooey and in love, but she swats that away just as soon as it comes in favor of snuggling back into his side.

"Yeah, I'll stay," she replied, "Order something good."

[sadceline]

THE ENHYPEN HOST || 3

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS

PAIRING: FEM READER X ENHYPEN

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.

GENTRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: You moved to Seoul to start over after a bad experience, and everything seems to be going well, you even manage to work for HYBE. You discover, however, that you owe them almost a billion won, money you don't have and don't know how to recover: but don't worry because Hybe itself offers you a solution.

Your body in exchange for paying off your debt.

Do you accept?

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

READ THE FIRST CHAPTER:

"I'll wait for you to sober up a bit." Sighs Jay, laying towels on my arms doorways toward him.

I sincerely laugh, visibly nervous. "They call you mr. kindness?

"Look at your condition, doing it now…. - he tells me, lowering his gaze as he strokes my cleavage exposed by the plunging neckline of my humble t-shirt with his index finger. - It would be so easy."

"I don't have to if I don't want to." I remind him, dazed, now less by the alcohol than by him.

My breath is suddenly short, even though I'm not looking at his face I can see his neck, his pronounced jaw, the way his skin fills with breath, puffing up his broad chest, even too much seen so closely.

"True, but since you won't be able to refuse for another four days, I'd really take it - he explains almost in a whisper, as his fingers move over my neck, then pick up strands of hair to tuck behind my ear - on the personal."

"Not… care."

"Do you really want to lose your only ally here? In fact, the strongest."

I smile amused, isn't she going to have inferiority complexes or something? The situation in the house didn't seem that desperate at all, but it's true that I haven't spent even twenty-four hours in here and Jay doesn't seem like a fool to me, though, I mean…

I suddenly lift my gaze: shouldn't I think better of it instead? After all, I'm going to sleep with someone else sooner or later anyway, and it's not certain that "this" is intended as a bargaining chip for others as well - so if there really was a strange situation in this apartment, I could at least think of myself with an ally.

"Do you understand? You will give weight to my words when you see it."

"What's going on? I can still … try to get out of it…."

"That made you give up so quickly? And I was trying to persuade you nicely." He grins in surprise.

I shift my eyes in embarrassment. "You're putting pressure on me."

"I know." He says, and his hands begin to slide down my exposed arms. His touch is slow and heavy, I can feel every millimeter of my body under his fingertips.

"T-Then stop doing that."

"I think I will - he says. - If that's the situation, I should just take advantage of it, right?"

How? How dare he? First he offends me, then he calls me an object practically, then he decides to take such liberties, like lifting my t-shirt a few inches from my bra, and in all this, I don't react. It's not the alcohol, I know.

I can smell him perfectly, it's not perfume, he smells like a man. He hasn't showered yet, probably, but his fragrance is aphrodisiac as it penetrates my nostrils and seems to engulf me in a spell.

And to say they make a lot of memes about his hygiene - if only they knew how untrue it is!

Jay grabs me by the hips, lifts me onto the sink. Before he kisses me he looks at me, perhaps still seeking my consent, but my eyes are already full of him and I don't care enough whatever he thinks of me to pull back. I'm the one who instinctively pushes my lips against his, he doesn't pull back either, instead he tightens his tapering fingers behind the back of my neck, pressing my head against his face.

He bites my lips, caresses my hips, kisses my neck. I barely catch my breath between kisses, he's especially passionate, I don't quite understand what's going on but I feel like I'm on fire, like I have a fever. Deep down, I didn't think I could ever be in a situation like this, realistically.

To be able to see the pores of his skin, to feel his touch, to know what his lips taste like, it's all simply divine.

"Are you at least good at it?" He whispers, pressing his mouth to my ear as he clings to the elastic of my black leggings.

"Let's hope so." A shy tone comes out in my voice.

I hear him chuckle, it's pleasant, I don't know why.

"Hold on to me." He says, handing me his shoulders to which I meekly cling, he uses the opportunity to slip off my pants, I am left in my underwear in seconds. He looks into my eyes, then at my breasts, I feel it even fuller and more beautiful under his eyes, then he places his hand on my hip, grasping it.

"Don't… look at me like that." I whisper with shame.

"I like it to the point of annoyance."

I stare at him, feeling like smiling but for some reason not following my instincts. "Really?"

"I don't tell lies."

He unhooks my bra and caresses my modest breasts with his cheek. He bites the nipple rather aggressively, to the point that I gasp in pleasurable pain, but he abruptly uses his tongue to treat the wound, and only confused, stifled moans come out of my mouth.

"Really? From now on," I say, bravely sinking my fingers into his hair, clutching him to my chest for him to keep licking, to make me gasp like this, "if you tell even one lie, I won't believe anything you've told me."

"The all-or-nothing rule is fallacious, you know?" He asks, amused, as he sucks my breast, squeezes it, massages it.

I am completely defeated, voluntarily surrendering to his will.

After taking me in his arms like I don't weigh, he pushes me against the wall. We kiss again, and I am increasingly addicted. His kisses are impetuous, his tongue is expert, moving slowly, and as a few drops of pleasure slip between my thighs I can feel his fingers exploring my intimacy.

He puts in only two but they are enough to make me gasp again. I cling as if desperately, I don't do it on purpose, but it is hard to enjoy so much in such a position, and although his grip is firm and he holds me even with his leg as his swollen sex rests in my thigh, I still feel precarious.

He's different from all the guys I've been with; it's like I'm experiencing new sensations. It's not like I've never had a one-night stand with a beautiful boy, as in this case, and it's nothing more than that (aside from the fact that he is an established celebrity from one of the most famous bands in South Korea), sure, but maybe deep down I'm living every fan's dream of this guy.

I'm not a little girl anymore, I delude myself it's different but this situation is really dangerous, didn't the Hybe agents foresee this? I find it hard to believe that a rich, independent woman would still be able to handle something like this.

What if I became so infatuated with them that I wanted to ruin them? Well, maybe the Hybe goons would kill me.

But maybe that's okay, because then the woman loses so much value that she can never be anything to them - or even a problem for the company. What will remain will be the end of a delulu era and a few tears, but it will still be a funny page in my life, albeit a dangerously borderline one.

"I'll put it in, okay?" He says, pressing his lips to my cheek, he's laughing, still doing it.

I nod, lost in him now.

"You don't talk much, during…" He says, as I feel him rest his cock on my opening, then willingly let it slip a little between my large lips, which moisten it.

"I would just say - I moan, surprised to feel him enter suddenly and before I can finish the sentence, using my fingernails to grip his bare skin - obscenities."

"I want to feel them."

Man, man.

It's a little girl thing, isn't it? My heart is pounding.

I don't have time to notice because his pelvis literally punctuates the rhythm of my breathing, I feel him enter me with ferocity, it's as if he uses his whole body to pound into me, I feel full to my sternum.

I hold on tight, I don't want him to stop, I really don't want him to stop.

"S-Slower…" I try to say, slurring my words.

"And why?" He whispers amusedly, as if he already understood.

It sounds bad to say I'm desperate, doesn't it? I am desperate because of him, I never want him to stop, I need this moment to last longer, I want to feel him in my belly, along with the butterflies I haven't had in so long, he shakes them all.

He lifts me abruptly, to better weld his grip, but what I sense is only how he pulls his length out of me, inserting it again and abruptly inside me, trembling because of him.

My breathing is desperate, my gaze blank, he is desperate. He's not lucid either, I can see it in the way he squeezes his eyes shut, the way he breathes erratically, the drops of sweat that bead his forehead, too focused on the pleasure we are sharing.

Is the clock still ticking? I don't understand it, I don't know anymore.

"Ah… Jay… - I swallow, my mouth is full of saliva, like I'm hungry, resting my chin on his shoulder as his steady, assaultive strokes bounce me back onto him holding me by my thighs, resting his hands on my buttocks as he steals one kiss after another - more…more…"

"Please ask." He whispers so close to my ear again.

"Ple…please …"

He means it, maybe because I asked so pitifully, but he manages to go even faster than he has so far, and I don't understand how he doesn't sound the least bit tired after all this time holding me up.

I can't control my voice anymore, I feel him deeper and deeper inside me, the more he moves the more my breathlessness increases. It may be because he is a dancer, a professional, but what kind of stamina is this?

I can't even control my body anymore, I start to convulse, I need to stretch, he's going too fast, so fast I can't even hear my own thoughts. I see him take on a strange expression, very focused but also in pain. I am too focused on his beauty to realize it - ""luckily"" he notices and puts me down.

He's pulled it out, holding his majestic cock with his hand, breathing deeply. I am confused, guilty.

I was too involved to remind him that I take the pill on Hybe's orders.

I look at him wearily, as strands of hair dampened by sweat and the warmth of the bathroom, which normally shouldn't have such a high temperature without even having bathed, slip past my distraught eyes.

"Oh, what an ass." He says in a relieved tone.

"W-What?"

"I didn't want to come yet." He explains.

Yes, it's great, but I can't look away. What is… that stuff? Was it really that big? Is that why I felt it all the way to my sternum? Should I stop staring at it? I can't, anyway.

"Do you like it?" He asks, still holding it up and turning his body toward me.

Guilty.

"So what do you say…" with his gaze he points to his cock, big and veiny, perhaps the first I've seen of this kind, in Korea.

He doesn't say anything else, his smirk is enough for me to realize that I will bend on my knees, prostrate myself to him helplessly, it doesn't matter anymore who he is, or I am, there is nothing else in this moment, in the world.

It is strange, my heated skin makes contact with the cold floor but not a shiver. The heat is inside my body, burning like a forest has just been given to the stake, every inch of my skin is on fire because of him.

I can smell my scent mixed with his as soon as I take him in my hand, and as I languidly lift my gaze to his, Jay caresses my head. He doesn't push it, he doesn't need to, he knows I'll do what I can, I want my lips to be able to touch his pubes, although judging by the thickness and partly by the length, that will prove to be a tall order.

"Good." He says, as I begin to lick him, moving his hand from my hair to my face.

Why? That annoying fluttering again. No Amanda, don't let your daddy issues take over, deal with it in a mature way, don't brood over it.

I do what I can, it's not easy to take it all in my mouth, my hand tightens around the base, moving with the movement of my lips, for a second I swallow over half its length, and a second later I pull it out with difficulty, as lines of saliva build bridges between me and him. I want to go deeper, I want to have more.

I hear him moaning, differently than before, now he is not exerting any force, pressure, he is completely free to surrender to the pleasure and as he lifts his chin making almost guttural sounds, I can only continue, inch by inch, to have more and more.

Perhaps I don't want him to think me inexperienced, perhaps I want him to have a good memory of it so that I can once again take advantage of him, of his body.

When I suffocate, literally, because of him, I see him burst out laughing as gently pulls my head away from his sex. "You did good, now let me do it."

Did he laugh at me? I failed, I guess.

And so he grabs both my hips, spinning me around, this time my back is to him and I can't look at his face, a little sorry. At the same time, however, feeling him knead my ass, as his intimacy presses against mine again, reddened and swollen, because of him, erases all doubt.

"Are you on the pill?"

"A-Ah… - I stammer, continuing to do so in front of him, starting to annoy me - yes."

"That's great. You know, you shouldn't tell other people…" He advises me, though it doesn't have the dispassionate tone of a recommendation at all, but of threatening advice, as he plunges it into my humors, suddenly.

I groan, it's inevitable. "M-Maybe I will, m-m….maybe I won't…"

That no from me is enough for him to gather my hair, twisting it in his hand, tightening it like a rope, pulling it, but I feel no pain. "Now you don't beg anymore?"

He pulls me to himself, arching my back I can feel his size even more, inside my belly, inside my body. "No…"

Jay doesn't answer, at least in words, because he begins to charge animalistically into me, he is more comfortable, he can force his legs up and you can feel it all, the force I mean. My body bounces like lifeless on the rhythm of the song that produces his. Yes, because his every movement is music to me at this moment.

After long, intense minutes, what comes out of my mouth are inhuman verses, a mix of tiredness, weakness and total addiction. My body is devastated, because of him. I feel like convulsing, he holds me by the arms, I have my cheek resting against the now-warm marble of the sink.

I hear him gasp louder, then hold back, I know what is happening, I can feel it because my belly has just warmed up. After a long stream of warm pleasure inside me, Jay stays still, breathing or trying to at least.

I am exhausted, to the point that as soon as he slides out of me, I fall to my knees. I am devastated, physically as much as psychologically, because it hasn't felt this good in a long time, no, maybe it never has. It's a first for me, in a way.

"Are you… okay?" He asks me, as he lifts up his black pants, which have fallen to his ankles the whole time.

"Yes…"

"Really?" He holds out his hand to me, seeming to recover.

I still have his humors dripping down my inner thigh, but he looks at me as if nothing has happened. "Really."

Afterwards, he explains to me how to use the bathroom, we manage to talk normally, or rather, he acts normal, and this sincerely gives me the feeling of being a colleague, wanting to be nice. I spoke little, still in shock.

"If I'm already asleep when you come back, wake me up. I'll move."

"I'll try not to." I smile weakly, still tired.

"If you touch me when you sleep, it's okay. Just not too close."

"I'm not going to-"

He freezes me, puts a finger over my mouth, presses it so that I stop moving my lips. "Lock up, anyway."

When I walk him to the door, Jay heads to his room but I can't help noticing there's someone else across the hall, I turn away when I sense his presence closer.

"Have you started yet?" He asks, surprised but amused, I think.

"Ah…no. I mean-"

"Even if you are here for that, you could have waited a while."

I was wrong, I'm a pest to him, too.

It's not that I'm surprised, they may be handsome and famous, but they are men, and men are strangely too equal to each other, as if in an unspoken camaraderie. There will be different ones and there will be good ones, I'm sure, but I haven't met any yet, so they must be very few.

However, being a fan myself, I feel bad about it. I mean, it's normal for me to feel bad about giving such an idea to people I like so much. Besides, I had a different idea about him, I thought that he himself would be the least critical - but why did I think that?

At the very least, I reflect, seeing them like this will make the mystical and pure aura that hovers around them fade away in my eyes.

"I do what I'm here to do." I answer him, suddenly fearless, my pride is blatantly wounded.

"It was just a advice, why do you get hot?" Heeseung asks, laughing and moving closer.

"I'm not warming up."

He is one step away from me when he stops. "Don't wear it, I read it ruins tits." He advises me again.

I chase the direction of his gaze, right - even though I'm dressed I'm not wearing a bra, and judging by my nipples, it shows. "But…"

"You wore it before, didn't you?"

Now I look him in the eye, it devastates me but I try to maintain some form of dignity by remaining serious.

I am too embarrassed to realize how beautiful he is up close.

"What do you want?"

"I'm giving you another advice."

I step back into the doorway, not quite lucid enough for him to make fun of me, and no matter how much just looking at him makes me feel like the center of a tornado, he's annoying me.

Heeseung puts his foot in the door before I can close it. "You don't listen to advice, do you?"

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Actually, I feel my privacy has been violated by a stranger."

"Then ask them to send me away, maybe they will listen to you. You're quite authoritative, aren't you? You're Lee Heeseung."

He smiles, as if pitying me, but why should he? "By the way, you said you were a fan, who is your bias?"

Ah. I didn't expect this one, he really changed the subject, putting me in an uncomfortable situation.

Suddenly my hands begin to tingle and my body to boil-essentially, by spending time with Jay, I have normalized that these people in front of me are Enhypen, and that I am still obsessed with each of them.

Why am I blushing? Am I an idiot?

"I don't have it."

"Liar, you took a long time to answer."

"N-No, I mean it."

"Ah, you don't say that because it's really me?" He asks me, with an innocent expression and a dazzling smile, I seem to melt in front of him.

I giggle in confusion. "You wish."

"So you don't want to go against the others? Is that why you won't tell me? Look, I'm not a snitch."

Is he trying to convince me as if I were a child? Ah, that's annoyingly adorable.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because it seems like an interesting experiment. An engene, in our dormitory, to have free access to every member - she nods, raising her eyebrows convincingly, I continue to stare at the perfect shape of her smiling lips - she will try to conquer her bias, no? I'd like to observe him."

I laugh, genuinely. Can I believe that he doesn't know? Or is it precisely because he knows that he wants to observe him?

Conquer? But who am I supposed to conquer in my situation? It's hard enough to find a normal guy with an open mind, should talented kids who expect everything to be owed to them be?

"Are you kidding me?"

"Just a little." His laughter fades into a warm smile.

And of course, he knows.

"So why did you want to know?"

"Because I'm curious, by nature I guess."

"Then I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you'll never get an answer."

He removes his foot, not seeming at all impressed by my knockout response, but whatever, I close the door without even saying goodbye. Now that I am finally alone, leaning against the sink again, I look at myself in the mirror.

My heart is about to burst, my brain is the on the verge of its worst short-circuit, my muscles are trembling.

Did this really happen? All of this? With Jay? With his…body? And that fits into the korean standard? What about Heeseung? Wasn't he a little too handsome? I can feel it, at this rate I'll end up going crazy.

NEXT CHAPTER:

[appocalipse]

baby!!! #5 from the scenarios list with steve would actually make me sob and die

baby!!!!! i love u

[ I’ve never seen you cry. Not when you fell out of that treehouse and nearly injured your knee, and not when we fell off our bikes on the back trails. But now you are. Who did this to you?]

Steve had never seen you cry. It's not an understatement; he had quite literally never seen you cry before. And considering you two are childhood friends, that means a lot.

You didn't cry when you were six and broke your arm, you didn't cry when your mother scolded you, you didn't cry when you fell off your bike and scraped your knees. You didn't even cry when your boyfriend broke up with you two years ago — and he had been a total jerk about it.

So when Steve comes out of the shower (a pretty quick one, despite all the dirt and blood he's had to clean up from your little trip to the Upside Down) and sees you standing in the middle of the living room with red, wet eyes, he thinks his panic is justified. He has every damn right to swallow hard, to feel a little lost — and, throwing aside the damp towel he was drying his hair with, Steve runs to you.

"Hey, hey," he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and lowering his head to get a better look at your face, looking for whatever might be causing all these tears. "What happened? Are you in pain? What's wrong?"

In a frenzy, Steve's eyes frantically move over you, over your expression, your eyes, your body — as if believing he'd find an open, bleeding wound somewhere, a plausible explanation, something he could fix to make you feel better.

You look at him for a split second. Fat tears slowly slide down your face, doubling in size, in frequency, and suddenly Steve is lost. He feels like he's standing beside dark waters, watching you drown without being able to save you.

"Everything," you finally say, your voice breaking. "Everything is wrong."

There's an ache inside his chest.

"Baby," Steve whispers gently, a crack in thin ice.

It's enough. Your knees go weak, the world seems to be disappearing under your feet. Steve catches you before you fall. Carefully, very carefully, he supports your weight, lowering himself with you until both of you are sitting on the floor — you in his arms, your legs tucked under your body.

You sob. "Steve."

He lets your head rest against his chest and strokes your hair lovingly when you wrap your arms around his waist. You just cry, cry hard enough to make your shoulders shake.

Steve catches a few words, a few murmurs that you let slip here and there between waves of tears — Max, Eddie, Hawkins, guilt — though he doesn't need them to understand the reason for your pain. He feels it too. He's felt it before, let himself feel it before.

But maybe you didn't. So he just holds you, just hugs you and lets you soak the clean shirt he just put on, rubbing your back and stroking your hair.

"I know," he murmurs, chin resting on top of your head. "I know, I'm here. I'm here with you."