#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.

[latin5mamii]

5:42 am

genre: JudeBellingham x you; cute and fluff

summary: After a whole night of no-sleep, you decide to help your boyfriend forget about his overthinking for once.

author's note: Cute and fluffy! Didn't want to make it too depressing so i added a bit of humor; i know this is work is unexpected but i'm getting a lot of inspiration rn!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ

The world is still asleep when Jude wakes, moving with the careful precision of someone practiced in not disturbing the peace. His hand reaches for his phone on the bedside table, and he shifts cautiously to sit up on the edge of the bed.

The room is dark save for the faint blue light creeping through the curtains, a soft haze that makes everything feel slower, quieter.

He doesn’t hear you stir behind him.

The mattress dips slightly as you roll over, and he freezes. For a second, he thinks you’ll fall back asleep, but your voice—soft and warm like the blankets tangled around you—breaks the silence.

"You're already up"

It’s not a question, and there’s no frustration in your tone—just a quiet understanding. Before every match, he could never sleep. He’d toss and turn, get up for water, but he could never settle—especially now, with so much to think about.

Jude glances over his shoulder, a little sheepish as he meets your sleepy gaze.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs. His voice is a whisper, rough from the early hour.

“You didn’t.” You stretch slightly, the movement slow and lazy. “You never do.”

He smiles at that—small, almost imperceptible in the low light. You sit up halfway, leaning on your elbow as you watch him tug on a sweatshirt over his T-shirt.

“Don’t go just yet,” you say, voice still quiet but carrying a softness that stops him mid-motion. “Come back here for a minute; you have so much time left. ”

Jude doesn't hesitate even for a second as soon as he sees you—still cocooned in blankets, your hair messy and your eyes heavy-lidded but bright. It’s not a hard choice, not really.

He slips back into bed without a word, settling beside you. Your arm loops around his waist instinctively, and he leans into it, letting his head rest against yours.

The silence in the room is thick but comforting, punctuated only by the faint hum of the world outside—a car passing, the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Jude’s breathing evens out as he melts into your embrace, the tension in his shoulders softening. You run your hand gently along his back, tracing patterns you don’t think about but that he seems to feel, leaning into each movement.

“You think too much,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but close enough that he hears it.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his arm drapes over you, pulling you closer. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel him exhale deeply, as if the weight of what you said has settled somewhere in his chest.

“I just want to get it right,” he murmurs, finally. The words are small but heavy, like they’ve been sitting on the tip of his tongue for days.

“You always do.”

The response is automatic, and you mean it—every syllable. You wish you could pull his thoughts away, fold it neatly into something manageable. But for now, all you can do is hold him.

Jude pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. The dim light softens his features—his dark eyes are wide, thoughtful, his lips parted as if he’s about to say something but decides against it.

“You okay?” you ask, brushing a hand through his hair, which is still slightly messy from sleep.

Jude lingers in the embrace a moment longer, his face tucked against the curve of your neck, the warmth of your skin drawing out a softness he didn’t realize he needed. But when he finally shifts, there’s something lighter in his expression. He nudges his nose against your cheek, playful, and murmurs,

“You’ve turned me into a morning person, you know.”

You laugh, low and easy, your fingers pausing in his hair to tap lightly against the side of his head. “I don’t think you get to claim that title until you actually enjoy mornings, Jude.”

He pulls back enough to look at you, an exaggerated pout forming on his lips. “What if I just enjoy mornings with you?”

“That’s sweet,” you tease, your smile brightening the dim room. “But you still groan every time the alarm goes off, so I’m not sure it counts.”

“Details.” He grins, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before sitting up. The bed shifts under his weight, and you watch as he stretches, the hem of his sweatshirt riding up slightly. The sight makes you laugh—something about the way his early-morning dishevelment feels so ordinary and yet so utterly him.

He glances over his shoulder at you, catching the amused tilt of your smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head, though the laughter still dances in your voice. “You’re just...cute like this.”

His ears turn a little pink, and he rubs the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s make some coffee before you embarrass me even more.”

“Embarrass you? Never,” you shoot back, but you’re already sitting up, tossing the blankets aside. The cool air hits your skin, and you shiver slightly, reaching for the oversized sweater draped over the chair beside the bed. Jude is already standing, holding a hand out to help you up.

The two of you move quietly even though you're alone in the house, the soft shuffle of your steps the only sound. Jude goes straight to the counter, pulling out the coffee beans and the grinder.

“You want tea, right?” he asks over his shoulder, already reaching for the kettle.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, leaning against the counter and watching him. He moves with a kind of easy precision, his focus shifting between the coffee and the kettle like it’s a little morning ritual he’s perfected. You can’t help but smile—it’s a far cry from the nerves that had him tossing and turning earlier.

“What’s funny now?” he asks, catching your expression as he sets the kettle to boil.

“Just you,” you say, your voice light. “All serious about coffee like it’s a science.”

“It is a science,” he replies, mock-indignant. “And you’re lucky I’m good at it, or you’d be stuck drinking whatever shit they call coffee down the street.”

“Oh yeah?” you shoot back, barely suppressing a laugh. “Says the guy who puts honey in his coffee.

Jude shakes his head, chuckling as he stirs the honey into his mug. “Is it that bad?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrug, fighting back a grin. “I mean, I wouldn’t say bad. Just...no okay it's actually bad.”

Jude groans dramatically, hand over his heart as if your words wounded him. “Wow. First thing in the morning, and you’re already coming for me.”

After a moment, you set your mug down and glance at him. “What do you want for breakfast? Or are we just surviving on caffeine today?”

Jude’s lips curve into a small, thoughtful smile. “Surviving on caffeine sounds very me,” he admits. Then, after a beat, he straightens and adds, “But pancakes sound better.”

“Pancakes?” you say, arching a brow. “Aren't you the man who claims he doesn’t need breakfast?”

“I’m evolving,” he says, feigning a look of mock importance. “Also, I think we have chocolate chips in the pantry.”

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Chocolate chip pancakes at dawn? I really am impressed.”

He nudges your side playfully, grinning. “Come on, let’s do it. We’ll make them quick. I’ll even let you flip them.”

“Generous of you,” you tease, already moving toward the pantry.

The only sounds are the soft clatter of bowls and utensils as the two of you work together, gathering ingredients and mixing the batter. Jude insists he’s got the perfect pancake recipe memorized, but you end up adding a little extra milk to the bowl when he’s not looking, just to mess with him.

“What did you just do?” he asks, squinting at you suspiciously as you stir.

“Nothing,” you say innocently, biting back a grin. “Just making sure it’s not too thick.”

He narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t argue, instead grabbing a ladle and heating the pan. “Alright, let’s see how this goes.”

The first pancake comes out a little lopsided, and you burst into laughter as Jude flips it onto a plate with exaggerated precision.

“Hey,” he says, pointing the spatula at you, “it’s not about how it looks—it’s about how it tastes.”

“Sure, Chef Jude,” you reply, still laughing as you lean against the counter, watching him pour the next one.

The second pancake is better—golden brown and perfectly round—and by the time the stack is finished, the kitchen smells like warm batter and melted chocolate. Jude sets the plate on the table with a triumphant flourish, and you grab two forks, sliding into a chair beside him.

Jude nudges your foot under the table, catching your eye as he chews his first bite.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, grinning.

You smile back, warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the pancakes. “Not bad at all.”

You pause eating and carefully set the little fork down on your plate. Looking at him, you offer a gentle smile, hoping to ease the weight of the long night.

“You’re going to do great today. I just know it.”

He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing your nose and then your cheek. After a moment, his hand settles softly on yours.

"I hope your predictions are right, then"

[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

[siasthoughts]

↳ ❝ [ i missed you. ] ¡! ❞

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ IN SYLUS' LANGUAGE.

CONCEPT; SYLUS WON'T ACCEPT BEING LEFT ON DELIVERED, SO HE GIVES YOU A VISIT TO REMIND YOU OF WHO HE IS.

TOPICS; gn!reader . relentless sylus . confrontation . teasing . i am NOT making him say kitten . implied you guys acc do it after this . foreplay

sylus is NOT a full on rough man, i REPEAT sylus is NOT a full on rough man!! when i write for him again, it's gna b subjective and situational 🙄

⊂⊃ RAFAYEL VERSION

sylus groans, his lip twitching as he sits at his plush velvet couch, staring down at his phone. still no reply. all his calls, texts, gifts that he sent to your door, and no response? his grip on his phone tightens, for a moment he thought he'd break his phone.

he sighs, calming himself down as he throws his phone onto the coffee table in front of him as he runs a hand down his face, throwing his head back. what could you be possibly doing that's more important than him?

that's it. he won't be taking more of this.

he stands, his silk robe wrapped just loosely around his waist as he walks over to his wardrobe, picking out a simple black dress shirt with black pants. not responding to me? he thinks arrogantly, who do you think you are? he snatches his phone and keys from the coffee table and headed out, slamming his door behind him.

he kicks the stand of his motorcycle up, and hovers to take a seat. he twists the keys and turns on the engine, revving it up and making his way out of his garage. he speeds past the empty streets, it's 11pm after all. he doesn't care anymore if you're sleeping, he just needs your damn attention.

after just a few moments, he arrives at your apartment building, pulling up into the parking lot and turning off the engine. he quickly takes down the stand with practiced ease and tucked his keys into his pocket, making his way into the lobby. he calls for the elevator and clicks for your floor, his patience burning faster and faster as he grips his phone, hoping he'd at least receive something, anything from you.

the elevator doors open and he doesn't waste a second to hurry out, his steps calculated yet hasty as he heads for your flat. he reaches your door, taking a deep breath as he rings your doorbell once.

...nothing.

he rings it the second time, and now, he finally hears shuffling steps.

on the other side of the door, you groggily get up from your sleep, slipping into your sandals to head to the door. you freeze in your steps.

"i know you're there."

he groans out, leaning on the door frame with his arm against the wall, his muscles tense as he pulls his hand into a fist. fuck, what do you do? he will probably think the truth is just a flimsy excuse! you sigh, making him wait isn't gonna help at all anyway.

you hesitantly wrap your fingers on the doorknob, unlocking it. sylus' eyes snap down to the knob, a small smirk playing at his lips as you finally open the door. "goodevening, sweetheart." he greets, his voice raspier than usual as he stares down at you, his eyes demanding answers.

"good-good evening to you too, sy..." you reply nervously, keeping your eyes on the ground as your palms sweat against the metal of your doorknob, "that's all?" he smiles sarcastically, holding your chin in between his fingers and tilting your head up to face him.

"least you can do is look me in the eye don't you think?" he huffs, pushing you both inside, making you stumble and hurriedly step back as he shuts the door behind him. he keeps pushing both of you back till you hit a wall. "you've been getting bolder, sweetheart." he whispers, cupping your cheek as you swallow your breath. "to leave me talking to a damn wall like that." a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, sending shivers across your skin.

"sylus, i didn't mean to... i-i was just too packed with work." you stutter, making it even less believable. "i'm sure, you've somehow even been avoiding mephistos line of view." he murmurs, his hand trailing down to the side of your neck. "no really, i-" he cuts you off as he sweeps you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulders.

"he-hey! i swear! i was just too busy!" you repeat helplessly, patting his back as you flail your legs. he just replies with a quiet grunt as he walks into your bedroom, softly throwing you onto the bed. you look up at him, moving to sit up before you feel a firm hand on your stomach, pressing you down.

he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, your legs just hanging off as he places a knee in between them, "doesn't change the fact you've left me ...wanting, sweetie." he whispers, leaning his face close to yours as his thumb swipes against your bottom lip. "i'm sorry, sy... really." you plead desperately as your hand finds his wrist, gripping gently.

"it might be too late for that..." he laughs, inching his thumb into your mouth as he grinds his knee against you, you find your hips responding by instinctively grinding back. "look... maybe you wanted to rile me up on purpose?" he hums, bringing his other hand to your thigh, caressing the soft skin. he relishes your reactions, feeling his own arousal grow in his pants.

he pulls his fingers from your mouth, making you pant for air. "no... that's not..." was all you could say before he brings his lips onto yours, hungrily sucking against your bottom lip. you feel his tongue invade your mouth, tasting you. all while his hand deftly unbuckled his belt, he pulls away briefly, staring down at you. "the next time you do this, sweetheart, you won't be getting a chance to breathe." his vocie was calm yet filled with threat and intimidation as his hands greedily move to sneak up under your shirt.

his finger pinch around the sensitive buds of your chest, making you whine as you squirm under him, "will you leave me in the dark again, sweetie?" he cockily asks, knowing what your answer will already be anyway. "n-no..." you breathlessly respond.

you don't know what it is. but you know for a fact, this isn't the last of his passive aggressive approaches to confrontation.

𓆩♡𓆪

╰┈➤ END OF PAGE! RETURN HOME?

[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.

[yasmindifference]

#4

wow why is it so big... ._. ... and jaytim pls :3

It's been snowing for three days straight, and Gotham has subsided into eerie silence.

That doesn't mean Jason's not patrolling, of course; it just means his patrols are a lot quieter than usual. It also means he's fucking freezing by the end of it, extra layers be damned.

On the bright side, the weather does make an excellent excuse for an extended stay at Tim's place. Someone's gotta make sure the spleenless wonder doesn't get taken out by a stray breeze, and who better than Jason?

That's his reasoning and he's sticking to it...not that anyone's asking. The Bats are too cold to even notice where Jason's spending the night, much less bother him about the whys.

And Tim, to his ever-pleasant surprise, never questions Jason's reason for showing up. He'll just pass him an extra plate of his dinner, or scoot over to make room for him on the couch, or enlist his help for whatever case he's working on, all without hesitation.

Or, like tonight--when Jason finds him already in bed--he lifts his (many) blankets in silent invitation.

A silent invitation that, after a quick change, Jason's more than happy to accept.

Snow is still falling outside the (one-way) glass that makes up two walls of Tim's penthouse suite, but inside it's toasty warm. Warm enough that Jason eschews the shirt he left here a while ago (freshly laundered since) in favor of just the sweatpants he's fairly certain he didn't. They don't look familiar, even though they're very much his size and stacked right next to his shirt on top of Tim's dresser.

Did Tim buy sweatpants specifically for him?

Jason's not gonna question it--too afraid the answer's no--but it's a nice thought.

He slides into bed next to Tim and is immediately pinned down when Tim eels on top of him and latches on tight.

"You're cold," he says with an unhappy little noise...but he very noticeably doesn't loosen his grip at all.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, it's like ten below, if you hadn't noticed."

"Mm." Tim somehow manages to hug him tighter. "You're the last one in tonight. Even Bruce called it early."

Jason slips his hands under Tim's shirt to warm them against his back. It'd take a better man than him not to enjoy how Tim squirms against him in response.

"Did Bruce call it, or did he get dragged?" he asks idly.

"There may have been force involved," Tim acknowledges.

That said, he yawns and tucks his face in the curve of Jason's neck.

"You made me wait forever," he adds grumpily.

Not that Jason would admit it (and good thing no one's here to call him on it), but that warms him more than the blankets and Tim's body heat combined.

Tim was waiting for him. Jason didn't find him buried in a pile of blankets reading on his tablet after a long patrol because he couldn't sleep, he found him like this because Tim was staying awake until he got here.

He keeps thinking this thing of theirs is uncertain, but...it's not, really. Every time he turns around, Tim's showing him, again and again, how welcome he is.

Maybe he really doesn't need an excuse.

So he doesn't bother coming up with one before he kisses Tim's hair--and, as usual, Tim doesn't ask. He just smiles into Jason's neck and kisses it in return.

"Night," he murmurs.

"Goodnight," Jason says, and with Tim on top of him--Tim trusting him--Tim wanting him--it really is.

Prompt #4 was snuggling beneath the covers! Well chosen! ♡♡

[cutieebabyy]

you belong with me - t.n

y/n pov

theodore nott has always fascinated me. he caught my eye as soon as he entered the train. i immediately was taken aback by his beauty. i couldn't comprehend that such a boy could be so beautiful, especially at his age. he's always been so captivating, but what drew me in the most were his eyes. when he stares at me, it's like everything melts away and it's just him and i.

i'm currently in his dorm, waiting for him to come back from quidditch practice. it isn't unusual for me to wait for him in his dorm, but what is unusual is the way he comes trudging in. what shocks me more is that he isn't alone. his arm is wrapped around some girls waist, his free hand fisting her hair.

they're kissing violently and all i can do is stare in shock, and mostly hurt. i don't even know why my heart aches as i look at the scene before me, but it just does. i desperately wish that girl was me. i wish we was kissing me passionately as if i was the only girl in his world.

unfortunately, all i'll ever be is his stupid best friend.

i clear my throat, alerting them of my presence. when the two pull away, he mutters a curse under his breath. "i didn't know you'd be in here." is all he says, wiping the remnants of her lipgloss from his lips.

i ball my fists as my sides before inhaling sharply. "i'm always in here when you get back, so i dunno what you mean by that."

he shuts his eyes before telling the girl behind him to leave. i hope she trips down the stairs on her way back to her dorm.

when she leaves, he shuts the door behind him, then walks over to where i'm sitting on his bed. "i'm sorry, Y/N, i didn't know you'd be here."

i shrug. "i'm going to go."

reluctantly, he asks, "are you mad at me?" i soften at that, hearing the boyish tone in his voice. deep down, i know theo would never hurt my intentionally, but i just can't get the image of them out of my mind. i'm no fool. i know theodore has slept with countless of women before, but i've never been one to witness it before my eyes.

so i sigh and admit, "no, but it hurt."

he cranes his neck to look at me. hesitantly, he places a hand over mine and runs his thumb over my knuckles. i shiver at his cold touch contradicting my warmth. "hurt?"

i nod, tucking away a stray curl behind my ear. "yes. i know it sounds dumb, but i didn't—" i pause to clear my throat. "i didn't like you kissing her."

he narrows his eyes. "you're hurt because i kissed her?"

"not just her, but all the girls you've ever done anything with." i shyly bite my lip, looking down at my lap so i can avoid his scrutinizing gaze.

"why does it hurt you?" he softly asks, moving his hand to my chin. he tilts my chin up gently to look at him and i'm left pouting. "why does it hurt you?" he repeats, slowly.

"i don't know." i reply, honestly. "but whenever i see you with another girl, my chest tightens and i feel like i can't breathe. i think i—" i can't say it.

"you think you're what, baby?" baby. it's not the first time he's let the pet name slip. he usually only calls me baby when we're cuddle up together late at night or when he's trying to coax me or when he makes me a hot cocoa to help me sleep or when he's— okay, he calls me baby a lot.

  "i think i like you." i whisper. i know i shouldn't fear about what theodore is going to reply because he's never made me feel stupid or less than, but i'm embarrassingly scared of rejection. 

  his lips tilt up into a smile, his eyes crinkling. "you think you like me?" he drawls.

  "uh-huh." i worry my lip in between my teeth, nervously fiddling with the hem of my — his — t-shirt.

  "well, you're in luck because i like you too."

  my eyes snap to his. our gazes connect and i'm about to grin, but then it hits me. "so, then why do you do stuff with other girls?"

  he lets his hand fall from my chin, but he doesn't stop touching me. he places his hand over my knee and softly caresses it. "it never went far, if that's what you're thinking. we never had sex. i do regret it everything i did, though. it should only have been you. and that girl? she stopped by the locking room, telling me she saw you with pucey again."

  "is that why you kept—"

  "—saying i didn't know you'd be here? yes. i would never, ever hurt you like that. i'd never put you in that position and i hate myself for doing it to you just now."

  "you didn't know." i say.

  he shrugs. "yeah, but still. deep down, i was hoping you'd be here, so you can just show me if you felt anything for me, which worked."

  i nudge him in the ribs with my elbow, earning a soft chuckle from him.

  "say it." he mutters, licking his lips.

  "hm?"

  "tell me you love me."

  "i love you, theo."

  "i love you, baby."

[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.

[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."

[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~!

[lsunstreakerl]

i was thinking about in famiglia familia au Red Bull throwing Max a little homeschool graduation?

If Max sat UK school exams he'd get his results for the last week of F1 summer break, so maybe at the first race back there's a cake. Not too much fuss, just a little bit because they all watched him sit on planes and various lobbies/restaurants with flashcards and textbooks studying for months.

we have somehow ended up at 1.1k words again. blame max- for someone who doesn't talk, he sure has a lot of thoughts.

Max isn't sure what he's going to do with himself this season. The last few years- he's always had a textbook laying around, flash cards to work on or homework to do. He doesn't have that anymore.

It's weird to think of himself as a graduate. When he'd been karting, finishing school hadn't been an option.

GP was determined though, and he'd spent countless hours sitting at tables and hotel rooms with Max and his homework, finding him in the garage to check on him and make sure he's taking breaks.

It's paid off, and Max now has more of an education than he'd ever expected of himself- but it's not enough yet.

He wants to go further, wants to take university courses, work in the grease and oil and floor shaking bass of the garages. He always knew racing was going to be part of his life, and he might be tackling it from a different angle now than he'd expected, but- he's proud of himself.

He zips his suitcase shut. He and GP are on one of the final flights out, most of the team in Australia already.

Max is kind of dreading the weather- hot and dry, the kind of heat that makes him wear shorts and thin shirts, the heat that makes him wonder if he can get away with his own ice bath.

Disgustingly enough, it's one of GP's favorite races of the year. Max doesn't understand it.

Max hefts up his pack, waddling it down the stairs since he can't see his feet over the edge. Gianpiero is in the living room already, and their coffee table is full of all the things that he normally keeps in his work bag.

He must be taking inventory. Max sets his bag by the front door before making his way over, staring over GP's shoulder.

"Max, hey. You got all your things?"

Max nods, leaning down and tapping his finger next to the collection of foil packets on the table.

'You do not need to carry those around anymore'

Gianpiero frowns, defensively cupping them under his palm.

"Yes I do- what if you need them?"

Max gives him a flatly unimpressed face.

'I can carry my own'

"Max,"

Gianpiero gives him a soft smile, tucking the painkillers back into their section in the bag, the same spot they've had for years.

"It's okay for me to want to take care of you."

Max shifts on his feet. He knows that- GP has been saying it for several years now- but it's still hard sometimes.

GP pats him gently on the arm.

"Even if you don't need them- it's for my own peace of mind."

Well, Max can't exactly argue with that.

------

The flight to Australia is so mind-numbingly long that Max takes a nap pretty much every time. He says he won't this time while they're boarding.

He does.

Waking up to Gianpiero shaking his shoulder isn't uncommon, and it means they're probably going to start their descent soon. Max yawns so wide he cracks his jaw, lips twitching into a grin at the way GP winces.

"I still think we should say something to your doctor about that."

Max rolls his eyes.

'Reddit says it's fine'

"Right, because we're taking Reddit's word as law now."

Max can see it on Gianpiero's face the instant he realizes what Max is about sign, already scrunching up his nose.

"No- we don't need to-"

'Not what you said when we were cooking turkey last week'

Max and GP are fairly decent at cooking now, but occasionally things get... forgotten. In the oven. While it's on.

GP makes an exaggerated frown at him.

"I thought we swore each other to silence."

'I am always sworn to silence'

Max hides his face in his hand as he shakes with silent giggles, and Gianpiero's groan at the terrible joke can probably be heard a few aisles down.

------

GP is being suspicious.

Max isn't sure what could possibly be so interesting on his phone to captivate his attention the way it is, but somehow it's Max who's guiding them from the hotel to the paddock.

At least the fans aren't crazy yet.

Max narrowly drags GP out of the way of another pole before he pokes him in the shoulder, frowning.

He throws his hands up in the universal 'what the fuck, dude' gesture, and Gianpiero winces, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he takes the lead again.

"Sorry about that Max- it was Christian."

Max lets it slide, but only this once.

------

There's a jazzy pop song playing from the garage, and it's not Nick's terrible 1990's dad rock, so it's probably Callum who has the garage speaker. Max doesn't mind- it's funny to see some of the older guys forget they're not supposed to like it. More than once he's caught Christian or Helmut bopping their heads, and GP's playlist at home would get him ridiculed at the garage for weeks if Max ever leaked it.

Weirdly, Gianpiero stays slightly behind him as Max pushes the door open, and-

"SURPRISE!"

It's multiple voices at once, and Mick is here too, and Max is confused for a moment until his eyes land on the cake on the table.

Congrats, Grad!

It's round, with navy frosting and white letters, a little fondant grad cap and diploma on the side.

Max blinks rapidly, and they really need to maintain this garage better if it's going to be so dusty-

This is for him.

He feels a hand rest gently on his shoulder, turns to see Christian and Adrian standing next to him.

"We're proud of you, Max. You've put a lot of work in- the whole garage can see it. Congratulations."

Max nods softly at Christian's words, and then Adrian is wrapping him in a side hug.

"I know it's hard, getting all your work done with the time zones and the races. I hope you know you did an incredible job anyways."

He has a point- more than once Max had woken up in a cold sweat, not because of a nightmare but because he wasn't sure if he'd missed a due date while on a flight.

There's been some very close calls. As well as many, many missed ones.

Some of the mechanics are surrounding him, and Max has a moment to realize that this is what family feels like.

He'd never thought he would be the kid getting a graduation party- never thought he'd graduate at all.

Gianpiero hugs him, squeezing gently as Max turns to hide his face in his shoulder. He's not going to cry about it. He's not.

GP leans his head down.

"I'm proud of you, Max."

He's crying about it.

[yridenergyridenergy]

Live report - Tour24 Who Is This Hell For? 2024/11/21 at Zepp Sapporo

Setlist:

Ruten no tou

AMON

Hageshisa to, kono mune no naka de karamitsuita shakunetsu no yami

Keigaku no yoku

Magayasou

Celebrate Empty Howls

Mitsu to tsuba

DIABOLOS

VINUSHKA

OBSCURE

Ochita koto no aru sora

The Inferno

-encore-

The Devil In Me

Values of Madness

Uroko

Eddie

My thoughts overall today are:

- so many echoes of Kyo's voice!

- This took me back to the first few times I saw Dir en grey live, in Canada, and the first times in Japan too. Times that were easier, where I was doing fine. The last time I saw them in Sapporo, in 2019, was also literally the beginning of this somewhat debilitating medical condition, caused by my own mistake. Therefore, this whole setlist, the songs and their meaning, conveyed a lot for me in this instance.

Shinya walked on stage dressed in all white. For some reason, it seemed like it was the first time that I could see him properly at his drum set. He was a literal prince! He looked so majestic, so strong. Magayasou especially was HIS time to shine! His drumming is so disorganized, and there was almost rancour and disdain behind one of his side hits during one of the songs, like if anybody had been standing there, they would have been utterly knocked out before they could blink. Also, regarding Shinya, Die tried to interact, but it seemed like Toshiya was the one who was successful in catching Shinya's glance, unless Shinya would have looked that way whether Toshiya was standing there or not hah. And it seemed to me like Shinya was truly peering at us from time to time, which I'd somehow never noticed.

Die was wearing some kind of light black tunic on top of a black tank top whose collar was very low, and he had leather short shorts on top of tights with a swirly design.

Regarding Die, the verdict is clear: he mouths total nonsense hahah. It really isn't the lyrics most of the time. He's just pumping us up by gaping his mouth a few times. He smiled so much throughout the show. I can't remember which song it was, but when it ended, he looked so ecstatic and proud, it reminded me of a high school girl finishing the performance of her life! I think that image stems from how young and happy he looked hah. His long hair kept getting stuck on his guitars.

Toshiya wore a black satin outfit with loooong panels below the sleeves. He had not only his thighs but his shoulders bare too. He had at least some lipstick, from what I remember. Toshiya was totally dramatic and expressive, like we know him to be hah.

Kaoru always impresses me by how he doesn't appear to sweat, and yet he wears the most layers in the band! He had the entire emperor look, baggy pants tucked into high boots, kind of like a horse rider, and the white dress shirt, cape, etc. He had makeup to accentuate his temples, as well as a bit of lining around his eyes, I think?

Kyo came on stage last of course, wearing all black. T-shirt tucked into clean black straight pants, black ribbed socks and shiny black work shoes. No makeup whatsoever. His hair was maybe an inch long. The tattoo next to his right eye is really visible, but this time I was on the kamite side, so I couldn't observe it much. And yeah, he has filled up the space below his jaw to outline his face. It looks like random lines: what pops up is a circular space left almost blank in the centre of his throat like to indicate where to do a tracheotomy, one line left blank on the sides, his Damned tattoo, and the two melded faces on the right side of his neck. If "Truth" is still written below his chin, it's barely distinguishable. Kyo's barbed wire tattoo sticks out a lot from his hairline at the top, despite the length of his hair right now.

It seemed like Kyo got really into the songs mostly at Diabolos. He also peeked at his lyrics memo sheets a lot, not that I blame him.

Ruten no tou was really cool. After "Sora yo", Kyo's voice is doubled in canon echoes, until the part where, in the studio recording, he does a light-pitched sigh, but in this live performance, it was merely an exhale.

The audience would have left Ruten no tou to end and transition into the next song in silence if I hadn't initiated a cheer, which happened a couple of other times. The only moment where we did let the band transition in silence was after Keigaku no yoku, because it would have been super inappropriate to cheer after he ended the song in: "Ore wa sakebu... HAYAKU SHINEEE!!" He ad-libbed Keigaku no yoku for at least the first half. No real clue what he said, it sounded like he was murmuring with the mic too close to his lips. Oh and it was awesome when they echoed Kyo's high-pitched sounds after the harder parts.

AMON was quite cool too. I don't remember anything special right now, other than that it was yet another moment where Shinya's drumming shone.

Hageshisa to, and frankly all of the other songs too, seemed to get the reaction that the band wanted. Everyone pitched in and headbanged as usual. Kyo had us sing a few parts and he did the traditional a capella: "Dive, like hell, and desTROY". Toshiya did his spins with very wide and dramatic movements, but it was clearly because there was no other way to avoid his super long sleeve fabric from interfering with him playing the bass hah.

Magayasou, I literally paid attention mostly to Shinya because of how badass his drumming is in that song. I just remember that I've definitely seen Kyo way more involved in that song in the past, but not now.

Oh, I don't recall which song exactly it was in the first few, but it was funny seeing Kaoru and Die hurry back from the edge of the stage to their mics whenever they realized that: "Oops, I've got backup vocals in 3, 2, 1..." Toshiya almost seemed to follow Kaoru with his stare when it happened like Kaoru snapped out of a trance.

During Celebrate Empty Howls, it feels like the performance was even more energetic from Kyo and the others when I last saw it in an assigned-seat hall. Either way, it involved Toshiya, Die and Kaoru coming to the front to tease us, switching sides once in a while. Toshiya's always all smiles, while Kaoru at most winks stoically hah.

The second pause happened between Celebrate Empty Howls and Mitsu to Tsuba, which felt kind of awkward. Overall, I felt like adding one or two Inward Screams would have livened up Kyo's performance slightly, or at least greatly changed it and the atmosphere of the songs.

Mitsu to Tsuba is mostly Die's time to shine. He knows the effect he has on us and he likes all the distortions he can get out of his guitar.

By the way, other than the SE, I actually don't recall seeing much AI-generated footage in the backdrop videos! The SE had images of a hooded stalker of sorts walking toward a bridge at night, a clown, photographs transposed in a circle to piece together probably someone supposed to be a criminal, etc. The music is a bit unmemorizable, but it had a beat that prompted us to clap to it while we waited for Shinya to show up.

Diabolos was amazing! Die was almost mocking us laughing during the segments where we headbang for three consecutive parts, which happens two other times in the song. I don't know if people seemed tired.

Kyo had us shouting "Blue Velvet" a couple of times. But the song evoked a lot in him, it showed. He was really into it.

The backdrop video of Diabolos caught my attention because it seems like when we sing about "Blue Velvet", we're... cooking a pig? There's just a charred pig head on a cut tree trunk, along with other imagery that makes it clear that the pig was cooked. An African tribesman with white lines of makeup all over his face and body is shown afterward. I'm not sure that that is ever what I would have associated with "Blue Velvet".

Oh, it was crazy, the anticipation building up to the "Saa ningen o yamero" part of this song. Kyo just shouted each line with deep breaks in between, to punch each point. Reading the official lyrics again, I'm pretty sure that Kyo completely changed the lyrics before "Saa ningen o yamero", actually, because it involved more stuff like: "You, and my self too, "

I think it might have been in Diabolos that Toshiya copied Kyo's stance with their left hand raised, leaning backward with their side facing us. It must have been during the climax line: " I raise my vacant eyes toward the sky".

Vinushka, again, I've seen Kyo more intense in this song in some live recordings, but it was nice and felt anyway. For some reason, the parallel between Kyo bringing his mic slowly toward his mouth for the "Aaaah... Vinushka" part while the background video shows the nuclear bomb approaching the viewer from above only just struck me. It's the same movement of two points slowly connecting to express impeding doom, that seems calm and quiet before the explosion.

Obscure involved a lot of headbanging, Toshiya spinning, etc. We didn't see much hah.

Ochita koto no aru sora started kind of like before Obscure finished, it took me a while to recognize the melody. Kyo had us sing some parts. I was really looking forward to witnessing this song live for the first time!

The Inferno came and I knew that it was the last song of the main setlist, which happened way too quickly! Sure, there were two long songs, but it felt way too short! Kyo wanted us to participate in the song a few times and he gestured the cut-throat at the very start and a couple of other times throughout the song, but I don't think he headbanged himself.

Kyo threw his mic backward JUST short of Shinya's drum set and walked off the stage before the song had even finished, leaving the other members to complete the last bit of the melody. Die was especially happy, he stayed behind to play moooore distortion, as long as he could, several seconds after everybody else had left the stage. His smile was wide!

The members returned for the encore rather quickly considering that Toshiya's assistant was still tuning his bass hah. Shinya had a sleeveless black shirt with the super big gold necklace in the style that he, Kaoru and Kyo have worn since The Perfume of Sins! Die has cut the sleeves from the black 27-years sweater but he was still wearing mostly the same clothes underneath. His arms are really defined, but Toshiya has totally surpassed him in muscle mass, woah. Buffest member in the band. Kaoru only took off his cape; how the hell does he not sweat! Toshiya had the grey sweater from the tour merch and his pants/boots with his thighs exposed. Kyo hadn't changed.

Although he did it once, or max twice during the main set, Kyo egged us on with "Sapporo!" several times in the encore, asking us over and over whether we could go on, become one, etc.

Oh man, The Devil In Me! I still completely disagree with the band's decision to rely heavily on backtracks, especially for the part "Jinkaku hitei o abite" which literally was recorded by the backup vocalists? What the fuck. But it's so cool and intense to watch Kyo lose it, growling, folding, swinging his mic cord up and down as he pours his self-hate. For the last minute or so of the song, he climbed on his crate, wrapped his red mic cord around his neck without theatrics, and sang with just enough length of the cord to follow his right arm as it curled toward his mouth. Otherwise, if he extended his arm too much, it would have tightened the noose. At the end of the song, while the instrumental continues for quite a while, he slowly sheds, or rather shrugs off one part of the mic cord from him. First, the noose is undone. Then, the cord draped on his left shoulder is shrugged off, which leaves just the one on his right side, which comes off while he stares almost in challenge at the horizon. Shedding a weight from his shoulders, from his existence literally, but not looking 100% relieved whatsoever.

Values of Madness has me headbanging intensely, so I'm not sure what happened, to be honest. Die was smiling, I think. Kyo stayed quiet to demand us to sing sometimes, which he seemed satisfied with. I don't know if it was in this song or another one, but Kyo was stalking his way in front of his crate when he must have stomped on his mic cord, because he stopped abruptly on his track to fix that before a real problem occurred.

In all three of the last songs, it was funny because the members would visit different sides of the stage, then went back to their spot when the song ended, but then another hyper song started and they went right back out there, repeating this dance once more for Eddie hah.

For the last song, Kyo asked us if we could go on, and he seemed taken aback by the response he got from the shimote side on the left, because he was like: "Huh? Are you alive?" So then that part of the crowd finally put their all into the cheer. Kyo turned to the kamite, and it sounded like we were way more at 100% intensity than shimote from the start. He asked us a second time anyway, and then, after a second of quiet on his part, he did his sudden a capella crescendo: "aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHH" with his 'claw' rising progressively, which had us all jumping and cheering. Eddie started and Kyo asked us to sing some parts, sometimes taking off his ear monitor. It wasn't clear on his face whether he was satisfied though, so probably not.

Kyo threw one of his water bottles kind of carelessly into the crowd, letting the cap and straw disconnect and all the water spray randomly onto us. Then, he promptly left. Shinya took a long time to come down from his platform, it seemed. Toshiya and Die had already started throwing picks and water. Die did the fountain/water sprouting move from close to his chest, like we saw him do in one or two videos. Toshiya and him sprayed us so much, they seemed to take a lot of pleasure in it. All three who were left on stage threw picks for a while, and I remember Kaoru stoically waving his index at us, as though teasing or chastising us for some reason hah.

Toshiya left with a smile and a modest bow and hand wave. Kaoru also waved us goodbye after throwing everything he had. Die was last, throwing his towel far but not close to the balcony like he sometimes aims to do. He intently looks at whoever catches his towel, like it means a lot to him to watch their reaction. He was really all smiles, mouthing stuff that resembled "arigatou" to us, and then he waved at us on his final way out.

What a blast, overall! I'm probably forgetting some stuff, but less than if I tried to write this live report any other time after today. I hope they play the setlist with Phenomenon in Sendai!

Oh and at one point, I was like: "Who the hell is filming the show with their cellphone? They played the reminder of the rules so often and so clearly." But it was Fujieda filming Shinya, so I guess that's the video we're getting tomorrow hah.

[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 ;)

[ephie-om]

I know this one is short but every time I tried to make it longer it ended up awkward x.x sorry I tried

CW: None

Day 6: Beelzebub

When you first came to the Devildom, Beel was conflicted. He had an innate urge to protect you, since you had no claws, wings, or tail. But he knew from experience how terrifying he could be, even accidentally, so he kept his distance. He did his best to keep his table manners in mind so that you wouldn't get the wrong idea, especially when meat was on the menu.

If there's one thing he knows, though, it's that you are irresistible. Everything about you draws him in and knocks down all the walls of self-control he puts up. He often finds himself much closer to you than he would like, but you don't seem to mind. He can't quite figure out why that is, but having you close satiates some part of him. He craves it when you're not around, so he starts to come up with little excuses to end up next to you.

It starts under the guise of being helpful when he sees you about to climb on the kitchen counter. He swoops in to help you get a cup from a high cabinet, brushing his stomach against your back in the process. He smiles at you; after all, it wasn’t your fault the house was demon-sized. You smile back gratefully as he hands you the mug you were searching for. You don't tense up from the contact, and he takes that as a sign.

Occasionally he finds you in the common room, reading, watching a movie, taking a nap. You might be cold, he thinks, and he couldn't have the exchange student uncomfortable in his house. So he takes it upon himself to always find the softest blanket he can for you and drape it over you. Sometimes, in his more daring moments, he touches his fingers to your arms as he tucks you in.

He starts insisting on helping you with your coat, and he’s worried you might be onto him. You still let him, but you get a shine in your eyes and he’s not sure exactly what it means. Whatever it is, it’s worth it to share that second of bliss when his large hands cover your shoulders. These little moments add up in his heart and leave him satisfied.

Mostly satisfied.

Every time you smile up at him as he barely touches you, that urge to protect you grows tenfold. He wants to make sure nothing ever dims that smile, and he doesn't care one bit what he has to do to keep you safe.

He lies in bed restlessly as a fierce storm rattles the window panes. Belphie went to sleep long ago, leaving him alone to try and get some rest. A quiet knock on the door interrupts his tossing and turning, and he finds you standing there looking uneasy. He invites you in wordlessly. You only just step into the room when a clap of thunder booms through the sky, and Beel suddenly finds himself as the only thing between you and the window. “Sorry,” you whisper. “It's a lot worse than the storms I'm used to in the human world. These ones are bad in the daytime too, but when it's late at night it really scares me.” Your hands clench the back of his shirt like it's your lifeline.

“It's okay,” he whispers back. “I wouldn't let anything happen to you.” He turns and hugs you gently. The tension drains from your muscles and you rest your head against his broad chest.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course.” He's grateful for the darkness to mask his reddening cheeks as he places a hand on your back to guide you to bed. You make yourself comfortable, tucking yourself underneath the layers of blankets. You reach out towards him with both arms. He settles himself beside you, making sure he's not crushing you accidentally. Blissfully unaware, you curl up to his chest with your head beneath his chin.

How can such a small creature be so warm? It's like a tiny heater crawled into his bed. He stifles a laugh and wraps you up in his arms.

Thunder strikes again, but you only jump a little bit. He mutters something in your ear about always keeping you safe, and your thumb strokes his collarbone. He falls asleep only a few minutes after you, satisfied with protecting you from the storm.