#thanks anon! I had fun :)

[ping-ski]

moon grilling a cheese in a frilly apron while looking directly at the camera and doing a big thumbs up 👍(the cheese is burnt to a crisp. It is naught but embers)

girl dinner robot dinner! <3

[incvbvsribbons]

hmmm… idea. what if. i woke up next to you late in the night when its all quiet. and i was empty, aching for you, so intensely and desperately so that i got an idea. i sit up and shift to straddle you as smooth as i can, holding my shaking breath when i pull my damp panties to the side and glide my aching cunt across you. it doesn’t take long for my patience to wear thin and as soon as i can stand it, i’m taking all of you to the hilt, hissing softly into the darkness as you throb your way to full hardness inside me….

i could ride you awake? with you all flushed and pretty underneath me, waking up slow and groggy, pawing at my hips… maybe you flip me over, maybe you just let me ride you like a toy… possibilities, possibilities :)

-❄️ (is snow okay?)

THIS‼️‼️

You wake up in the middle of the night, your dry throat telling you that you should probably get some water. You get out of bed, looking back at me laying in bed, your sweet boy, totally passed out after a long day. You go into the kitchen and fill a glass, downing it before walking back to our room. I got home from a particularly rough day at work, and immediately crashed after walking in the door, kissing your forehead hi, and eating some food. You felt so bad for me, you think to yourself, but the empty feeling between your legs just needs to be satisfied. You close the bedroom door behind you, biting your lip. You remember me saying that our little “free use” agreement goes both ways, and surely you wouldn’t rouse me from my sleep if you just had a little bit of fun, right?

You climb in bed and pull the blanket back, revealing the rest of my body. You rub your hands across my chest, grunting softly as you feel a wet spot form on your panties. You carefully straddle my waist, making sure not to wake me up, and you start rubbing against my bulge, covering your mouth as you moan softly. You feel my cock get harder in my sleep pants, pressing more and more against you as your panties become soaked in your neediness. In your desperation to feel full you push them to the side and slowly, carefully pull my sleep pants down. My cock bounces up off the waistband, standing at attention for you as you drool down the side of your face. You need this so fucking badly and at this point you don’t care if I get upset being woken up. The worst I could do is punish you, and being tied to a chair with a vibrator on full blast for a couple of hours is worth it just to get filled up right now…

Before you even realize it, you’re sliding down the shaft, all the way to the hilt of my cock, feeling it pressing against your cervix. You catch a moan in your throat, covering your mouth as you slowly ride me, feeling every inch as you rise and fall. You lift your shirt up and grope your tits, squeezing your nipples like I usually do when you ride me any other time. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” you whisper hurriedly to yourself, not realizing how good it feels using your pretty boy like your own personal dildo.

You slowly cave in, starting to bounce more needily, your head tilted back and moaning out, not even realize that I’ve started to stir, my eyes opening to see you riding me like your life depended on it. Suddenly you feel my hands wrap around your waist as I drag you down onto the bed, flipping us so im now on top of you, thrusting into your soaked pussy hard and fast, laying on top of you so you can’t squirm out of the way. Your arms wrap around my back and your nails press into my skin, mouth agape as you can’t help but let out little gasps as you feel my cock twitch inside of you, and with another deep thrust, I cum inside of you. You lie there underneath me, legs shaking as I gently fall back asleep on top of you, leaving you wide awake and cockwarming me, still trying to process what just happened in your fuzzy headspace~

[sboochi]

I know you are focusing on your new Big Four Au but I remembered your old one, the one that inspired Heirs, and like, I remembered your Moondrop! Jack design and it was so beautiful and then I was like, what if the moondrop went even further, because imagine a fight scene where Cassandra breaks Jack's staff and he used not only his ice powers to repair but the black rocks, only this time they are glowing eternally white, and when he needs to fly the moondrop decides to just, give Jack wings.

Basically I'm saying winged Jack Frost

I wasn’t very excited at the idea of wings at first, but then I thought...... moth wings......

(He's kinda lost the moondrop armor aesthetic oops)

[kenzan-brainrot-mp4]

a koi that can't cross the Dragon Gate

(anon request!)

closeup + alt because I'm indecisive

[vekreng]

Tech - Totally Not Crushing

prompt: "...something with tech and an awkward reader maybe they admit feelings for each other or they are caught being cute by the rest of the batch and they tease them?.." pairing: Tech x Reader words: 2.2k requested: yes!

You didn’t know if you wanted to scream for the sake of screaming or if you wanted to throw yourself in front of some wild beast.

It had been an absolute age since you met the Batch, and him. The individual members were all striking in their own way, but none stood out more to you than Tech.

Your throat buzzed with an idle hum as you watched him tinker on the Marauder. He wasn’t as physically strong as his other brothers, no, but his intellect was unmatched. He could see patterns in nature and people that were indecipherable to most, pointing out what was about to happen before even Hunter could pick it up at times. His mind stored a vast wealth of knowledge on just about everything you could name and then some. He lacked subtlety in only the most adorable way. His round, soft eyes looked gentler still through the amber lenses of his goggles. He checked on you after every mission or trip, asked for your assistance on just about every task.

Time and time again you tried to confess, and time and time again the words died on your tongue. You tried when you were paired up alone on a mission, when you two had to sneak through a palace, when you two were the only ones awake one night in hyperspace. It was always so perfect, except for… for what? Why could you never tell him? Nerves, maybe? Perhaps the way his eyes locked with yours caused you to instantly short circuit and forget everything you ever knew. Yeah. That was definitely it. A very logical explanation. 

Your eyes followed the fluid movement of his hands, his skillful fingers practically dancing through the ship’s wires as he teased out minor bugs in favor of much larger ones that he will try to convince Hunter are actually improvements.

God, you loved him.

If only you could just say it.

“Staring is only going to put him off, you know,” a voice drawled from behind. You whipped around in a panic, only to see Crosshair grinning your way. “Pretty sure you don’t want that.”

“Cross!” You scolded, pinching the bridge of your nose. God, of course it had to be him. “Give a bit of warning next time, maybe?”

“I’m a sniper. It’s quite literally my job to not give any warning.” He pushed himself off the door frame he was leaning on and made his way to your side, leaning down ever so slightly to be more level with you while you both watched Tech work. “What’s your goal here? Memorize every aspect of what he looks like so you can dream about him at night? Or are you going to say something like a normal person?”

“You’re such an ass,” you grumbled, glaring at the ground. “You have no idea how hard this is for me. What if he rejects me? We all live on one very tiny ship, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle that tension! Or what if I do tell him and he just doesn’t get what I’m saying and I have to spend ages trying to get more and more blunt and obvious about it. Do you really expect me to live out the rest of my life reliving that moment forever?”

“And what if you tell him and he says he feels the same way?” Crosshair argued back. “Talk to him or leave him alone. You make me want to throw up every time I see how lovesick you are over him.”

“I can’t, Crosshair! I freeze up every time I try!” 

The sniper spun you around to face him. “In this line of work, freezing up could mean death for you and your teammates. You take action when it’s needed; I’ve seen you do it. What’s so different about this? Get it together, walk over there, and tell him how you really feel, before you don’t get to tell him at all.”

You could only blink at him.

------

Hunter peeked around the edge of the Marauder briefly to watch you and Crosshair fighting before turning back to Tech. “You’re going to have to face them eventually, you know.”

“I do not understand your meaning. I face them every day.” Tech soldered a broken wire together, tugging lightly on one end to ensure the connection was strong. “Your statement is baseless.”

“You’re misinterpreting my words on purpose,” Hunter pointed out as he waved to Wrecker. The strongest of them all brought over a massive crate of spare parts and started handing bits of them to Tech. “I’ve seen how you are. Somehow, you’ve mastered the art of having as much interaction with them as possible while also avoiding them.”

“I do not avoid anyone.”

Hunter barked out a laugh. “Oh, really? Then why do you only take piloting shifts when theirs isn’t right before or after yours, or run off into only known safe markets and leave us all behind?” He passed a spanner to his brother. “But when we’re in unfamiliar territory, you refuse to leave their side unless one of us is already sticking with them, and even then you try to weasel your way in. Face it, Tech. We all know you’ve got a bit of a crush on them.”

Tech maneuvered to the underside of the ship, his face a light sheen of red. “Ensuring the safety of a teammate is not evidence of a crush, Hunter. I am merely showing caution in hostile territory.”

“I think the only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love is them,” Wrecker butted in, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to where you and Crosshair were squabbling. Hunter glanced over to see that Crosshair had put you in a headlock and refused to release you until you cried uncle. “You’re not really good at hidin’ it, to be honest.”

Tech huffed. “As I keep telling you both, I—”

Hunter suddenly called out your name, cutting Tech off. “We need to get a few more supplies before we take off. Can you help Tech finish things up here while we head to the stalls?”

Crosshair kicked your leg when you opened your mouth. “Yeah, we can’t trust you to get actual essentials. Besides, you probably know as much about the Marauder as Tech does by this point.”

Before you could protest, the three brothers vanished into the shadows of the docking station.

You gulped. Crosshair’s words looped in your head.

It had to happen at some point, you suppose.

Slowly, you walked to where Tech was gathering up his tools. “I thought you had more work to do?”

“I do,” Tech replied, not looking up from his task, “but the remaining repairs are inside the ship.”

Great, you thought as you followed, all alone and in a confined space. What could possibly go wrong?

------

You were pretty sure that you were going to implode if you spent another minute helping Tech in the cockpit. 

Somehow the man was far too close and much too far away at the same time. You inched nearer and he pulled back. You gave him space and he closed in. Every time you opened your mouth to speak he would unknowingly interrupt with some sort of commentary or delegation, and when you closed it he looked at you expectantly for a comment. Ugh, it was infuriating. Just speak already! Tell him you love him!

You took a deep breath. Alright, this time, for sure. No more backing out. You can do this. It’s just three words. You’ve got this.

You steadied the rickety stepladder that Tech insisted on using to reach a panel in the ceiling. A few safety lights had gone out and Hunter was worried that it was an indication of something bad despite the protests of his sibling.

This was it.

Another breath. “Hey, uh, Tech?”

Tech hummed. His head was completely buried in the darkness of the ship’s interior system.

You squeezed your eyes shut to muster up all the courage you possibly could. “Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, for… a while now. And I was hoping that, since everyone else is gone, we could talk— HOLY—”

Tech shouted in surprise as the ancient stepladder finally gave out from underfoot, his flailing limbs knocking the both of you over, crashing hard enough into the floor for you both to see stars briefly.

“That hurt,” you muttered as you forced your eyes back open. It took a second for them to focus, but once they did, you realized with a start that you were looking into Tech’s.

Which were mere inches away from yours.

Because he had also fallen.

Conveniently, you cushioned his fall.

Oh no.

Tech’s mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again, and closed again. Even in your horror you couldn’t help but think that he looked an awful lot like a fish.

“I apologize,” he finally spluttered, scrambling off of you and sitting against the wall. “I, it was not my intention to, I mean, that is….” He hesitated. “I’m sorry. Are you injured?”

You slowly sat up, rubbing a hand over the shoulder that hit the ground first. “A little sore, but I’ll be okay. What about you?”

Tech carefully tilted his head back and forth. “Nothing is broken. My fall was successfully broken, albeit accidentally.” He looked back at you, his goggles askew and one lens fractured. “I should have calculated the risks of using that ladder more thoroughly. My carelessness resulted in your harm; I will grab the bacta patches. Remain here.”

“Tech, wait!”

He paused when your hand landed unexpectedly on his upper arm, staring blankly at it before focusing on you. “Yes?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Your… oh, just hold still for a second.” You reached up and removed his goggles, peering at the right lens. The crack didn’t stretch fully across, but the glass was compromised nonetheless and would need a replacement. “They’ll work for now, but I really hope you have a repair kit somewhere for these. Or a whole separate pair.” Carefully, you pulled the bent frame edges back into place before refitting them to his face. “How’s that?”

Tech let out a small puff, the air surprisingly cold against your hot skin.

Wait. Hot?

Oh, you were much closer than you previously thought. Oh. Oh no.

 “Thank you.” Your name escaped Tech’s lips in a whisper.

“Yeah,” you breathed, your head reeling from the proximity between you two. Or the fall and subsequent head injury. “Any time.”

The silence that followed felt like a lifetime, but a clock proved it to be only a few seconds.

“...Tech,” you said slowly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. The timing felt so off, so wrong, so inappropriate somehow, but you already let too many ‘proper’ opportunities slip by. You couldn’t take the chance again. “Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now. I wanted to tell you that I’m—”

“I love you!” Tech blurted out, grimacing right after for cutting you off.

Now it was your turn to make an impression of a fish.

“I’m… I’ve loved you for some time now. I love your smile, I love the crinkle by your eyes when you squint, I love how you look when you’re lost in thought. I love your laugh, your kindness, the way you look after my brothers just as we do to you. I love the effort you put into helping in any way you can, and how you show grace when someone makes a mistake. I know you’re leaving, but I had to tell you.”

Your finger tapped an uncertain rhythm on the floor of the Marauder, your brain running a thousand miles per second. Tech loved you back? And he thought you were leaving? “Why do you think I’m going away?”

“Echo has gone to work with Captain Rex once more; it was only logical that your recent shift in behavior and desire to express something important indicated you felt similarly,” Tech explained. “Was that… not accurate?”

You couldn’t help but laugh and oh, the sound was so sweet to your own ears. It was a mixture of pure joy and relief. “No, Tech, it wasn’t that. I just wanted to let you know that I love you too.” Your hand found his, your foreheads gently knocking together. “I love how serious you are, how studious you can be, how attentive you are to the world around you. I love how you ask me to explain social mannerisms in exchange for a personalized research dive on whatever I want. I love watching you be confident and skillful in your work, and I love when you let me convince you to relax and let someone else take over. I love you, Tech, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Tech smiled. “Though I think any further discussion should be put on hold until we get a bacta patch on your shoulder.”

A snort escaped your nose. “I’ll allow a distraction just this once, so long as you promise to help me out with it.”

“Naturally.”

[sensei-twinkles]

HEAR ME OUT ALL MIGHT BRANCHES OUT INTO CHARACTER BENTOS FOR HIS BOY

YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES! IN FACT I LOVED THIS IDEA SO MUCH I MADE A 6 PAGE COMIC TO GO WITH IT~

[turnipoddity]

Okay okay but—

Lawrence tummy yeah? What about Lawrence back,, pudgy backs are underrated

oh yeah 🧎‍♀️

[moonlight-records]

Hiii, I was wondering if I could order a custom 1633 vinyl? I was thinking classical with a hint of jazz. And maybe nr. 1, 19, 22, 24, 26, 33, 36, 42, 46, hits (E) <3

Shots Fired (MV1 x CL16)

pairing: Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc

Prompt: "Don't freak out, please It's not as bad as it looks." "“I can never let you out of my sight." + "Come back, the bed's cold without you."

wc: 4.1k

tags: friends to lovers, married, mafia au, mafia!max, sugar baby!charles, injured!charles, domestic lestappen, smut!! jealous!charles, face sitting, age gap: younger!charles and slightly older!max, daniel is a tired nurse, spare him, max is a simp, liam is jealous, moonie can't write fighting scenes, nothing graphic injury wise, have fun!!

a/n: we're back baby! request are being answered & opened! also red tags are what anon requested, non bold are added from me! also sorry not sorry bout the length!

“Schat! Are you almost done? We have to go!”

Charles jumps and almost smears his lip gloss onto his cheek. He huffs slightly and checks that his lip gloss is good before capping it. He hears the bedroom door open and brings his gaze away from the vanity mirror to his husband walking in. Charles smiles brightly as Max walks towards the vanity. Charles hums when Max gently kisses his forehead before his breath catches as Max’s hand rests on his throat. It’s taking every ounce of self control not to turn and start undoing Max’s belt and drop to his knees and—

“Schat,” Max murmurs into his ear.

Charles shivers harshly as a soft gasp escapes. Charles is trying to think of anything and everything that isn’t about how hot his husband is and how hot and bothered he was getting. Charles lets out a soft groan when Max squeezes his throat for a second before his hand is gone and Charles is left breathless. Opening his eyes, green meets blue and he wants nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

“Hm?” Charles asks finally.

“I asked if you were ready. We have to go.”

“Oh!” Charles snaps out of his haze as he looks back to the vanity. “I’m ready.” He decides and turns to Max with a smile before gently tapping Max’s chest to move back and he does. Charles takes his hand as he stands and giggles when Max pulls him to Max’s chest as Max plants gentle kisses over his face. “Mon chéri, we have to leave.”

Max offers a hum as he leans down to kiss Charles neck. Charles parts his lips gently as his hands find their way to Max’s hair. Tangling his fingers, Charles tilts his head to give Max more access. “Max,” Charles says breathlessly as Max just continues to kiss and nip at Charles neck, grabbing his thigh and hoist it up around his waist. Charles easily wraps it around Max’s waist and groans, feeling Max’s hard on pressing against him. “Max,” Charles manages to say.

“Charles,” Max murmurs as he catches the younger male chin in his fingers as green eyes meet his. He lets his thumb trace under Charles' bottom lip, tempted to show up to this meeting covered in Charles lip gloss all over his face and neck and collar but decides against it. “Promise me you’ll be a good boy for me tonight?”

“I will,” Charles says breathlessly. He leans into Max’s chest a bit more, nails gently scratching Max’s scalp. He grins seeing Max’s eyes flutter for a moment before the grip on Charles’ chin tightens for a moment.

“You remember the rules?”

“Mmmhmm.” Charles slowly unwraps his leg from Max’s waist, “Stay close to you when we enter. Sit next to you. Always have someone with me if I leave the room. Stay with the others if you need to have a solo chat. If I feel uncomfortable during the meeting, sit in your lap and tell you. Say pistachios if I want to go home.” Charles thinks for a moment if there’s any other rules he’s missing before he remembers, “oh! As much as I hate this rule, if things turn ugly to get the fuck out of there as fast and safely as I can.”

“Good boy.” Max grins. He gives Charles a quick peck before forcing himself to peel away from Charles. He grins seeing the blush that crosses upon his husband’s cheeks. “Now come on. Shouldn’t be that long of a meeting.”

The meeting was in fact, not that long before all hell broke loose about twenty minutes in. Charles’ anxiety had been going crazy the second they walked into the warehouse. He knew that Max caught on immediately when Charles clung to Max closer. He tries to reassure the younger male that it was fine and just off because they were meeting at a warehouse and Charles takes a deep breath, nodding in agreement.

Ten minutes later, Charles was digging his nails into his thighs while sitting next to Charles. His original plan was using their code word and going home but Liam was eyeing Max just a bit too much for his liking. Flirty smile, bedroom eyes, only directing his attention to Max. Listen, Charles knew that Max was a catch. He was older, 29 to be exact, compared to Liam and Charles who are 22. Max was not only older but scary and powerful and a man that got what he wanted. Everyone wanted Max either on their side or in their bed.

Though the ladder was out of the question, since Charles and Max were married and Charles made sure Max understood if he tried something stupid like cheating that Charles, though not being in the world of the mafia till recently, would make Max regret his decision. Something that had been instituted since they first started sleeping together even if it was just a sugar baby / sugar daddy arrangement.

Still, now Charles was Max’s husband (a bit conversational in the mafia world but probably because Max was never one to settle down let alone get married) and Charles wore that title with pride so seeing Liam trying all the stops to lure his husband to his bedroom made Charles blood boil. Thankfully, Max wasn’t exactly the brightest when it came to advances and everything went over his head but Charles was hyper aware. Still, Charles continued to dig his nails into his thighs to keep himself stationed from leaping over the table and strangling Liam.

“We’ll be right back.” Max announces as he stands. Charles looks at Max, silently pleading to his husband not to go but Max places a gentle kiss on his forehead, murmuring that he’ll be right back before Max leaves with Daniel and VCARB people. Now it was the rest of VCRAB and RB men lingering around with Charles and Liam.

“Are you done trying to throw yourself at my husband?” Charles finally asks.

“Not like you’re doing much for him.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean come on, look at you.” Liam gestures, “you’re nothing more than a simple whore. You can’t be convinced that he married you out of love. Red Bull and his father have been pushing for Max to get married. He probably picked the first person to appease them. Won’t be long till he cheats on you with someone in the mafia world.”

“If that was the case, he wouldn’t have kept me around.”

“Oh please, you’re a cheap fuck.” Liam smiles innocently, “of course he’d keep you around.”

Charles stares at Liam and returns the smile. “Is that so? I’m just a cheap fuck?”

“Of course, why else would he keep you around?”

“Because he thinks of me more than a cheap fuck.” Leaning forward, he clasps his hands together. The change in demeanor makes Liam uneasy. Good. “You may not know this but we’ve been seeing each other for about…two and half years. I made it very clear from the start that I was not going to be played a fool. If he wanted nothing more than sex, that was fine. He got what he wanted and I got what I wanted. But,” he holds a hand up before Liam can say ‘I told you so’. “I told him to be honest. I wasn’t going to catch something from him being reckless so if he was seeing someone else, that’s all I needed to know and he held up to his end and I held up to mine. Though all the other people he was sleeping with faded out and yet,” Charles looks around before back at Liam, “I’m still standing.” He holds up his hand, pointing to his wedding band. “And I have a wedding band so.” Charles can see the pure jealously and anger flash through Liam’s eyes and he smiles victoriously, “so, if anyone looks like the cheap fuck here,” leaning in slightly, Charles gives a fake pity look, “It’s you.”

Anger flashes through Liam. He shoots out of his chair and Charles leans back in his quickly. Then men turn before gunshots ring out somewhere else in the warehouse. Everyone instinctively jumps or ducks. Charles hits the floor as shouts start and now gunshots are ringing out closer. The worst time for a fight to break out since he hears gunshots ring out in the room and he looks hearing a body hit the floor. He freezes, seeing the blood ooze from the body and he realizes that not only is he caught in the middle of a shoot out but Liam now has an excuse to kill him.

Like hell would Liam kill him.

Crawling under the table, he sees feet running and too many voices shouting and everyone fighting. He fumbles around and gets a hold of the guy's gun before crawling back. He quickly checks and sees the man never had a chance since it’s loaded before crawling out from under the table. He moves to a crouching position and sees his window to the door which is wide open as the men are either dead or running to find their leaders and Charles tries to run for it before he’s slammed into the wall. Charles groans and catches himself from crumbling to the ground. He leans forward, just missing getting pistol whipped in the head before seeing Liam winding back for another hit.

“I’ll make you regret your words, slut.”

Charles was a lot of things in life. A sugar baby. A prince among Monaco. A cheap fuck when he started out. Fine. But a slut? Charles had very set rules for himself. He only slept with one guy at a time while the other sugar daddies, back when he wanted a married man, were just looking for a friend. But now he wore Verstappen’s ring and name with pride and like fucking hell would he soil the name by being labeled a slut. Charles sees red as he lunches forward tackling Liam to the ground. He’s disarmed but manages to disarm Liam as well as they roll around. He manages to straddle Liam and starts swinging. He’s landing hits, he knows he is, until Liam manages to turn them. Charles tries to block but blood is running on his face now as he manages to catch Liam’s arm and bites. Liam yelps as Charles keeps his grip until Liam yanks his arm away and Charles spits. He got him to bleed and Charles managed to sit up enough to give him the momentum to head butt Liam off of him. Wiggling out from under, he stumbles and smacks his head on the table trying to stand before he stands. His head hurts and he’s dizzy but the sudden pain that shoots through his arm brings him back as he stumbles back against the table, holding his arm.

He’s bleeding and he sees a bruised Liam standing, panting while holding a knife. Shit. It’s now a life or death situation. Liam lunges again and Charles dives out the way. He cries out cause the knife clips his side but doesn’t sink in. Still, it’s a deeper cut than what he wanted as he crumbles to the ground. Scrambling, Charles manages to grab the closest gun by him and he turns, firing. Liam shouts and stumbles back, holding his arm. The knife hits the floor and Charles springs to his feet and swings, gun making contact with Liam’s side. Charles, in a fit of rage and adrenaline rush, just keeps swinging on Liam.

“Charles!”

Charles’ head snaps up, hearing Max. “Charles! Where are you?! Charles!”

Charles stumbles out of the meeting room seeing the dust has settled. Max’s suit is a bit disheveled but he’s fine. Charles relaxes as he stumbles but his pain is settling in. He hisses as he drops the gun to hold his side and five heads turn in his direction, weapons drawn.

“Charles!” Max shouts before snapping at his men to lower their weapons as he rushes over before stopping seeing the state Charles is in.

“Charles—” Max starts, swallowing the lump in his throat as anger rises in him. Charles shouldn’t be hurt. Why was he hurt? Who let him get hurt?

"Don't freak out, please. It's not as bad as it looks."

“I can never let you out of my sight." Max counters. “Charles what the fuck happened? Why didn’t you leave? You’re suppose to leave.”

“Fight broke out in the room.” Glancing back at the unconscious Liam who was in worse shape than Charles, Max follows his gaze. He hears Max’s breath catch as Charles looks back at his husband. “Also, Liam wasn’t really happy when I called him a cheap fuck for trying and failing to get you in his bed.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true!” Charles starts and grits his teeth as the pain is becoming too much, “he swore up and down that you were going to cheat on me and didn’t like me countering all his points so when the fight broke out, at the worse time, he tried to just take me out of the picture and I’d be damned if I let him kill me.”

“Charles—”

“I’m your husband first, sugar baby second.” Charles argues.

“No—I mean yes you’re correct.” Max starts as he’s carefully wrapping an arm around Charles before leading them out of the warehouse. “But I was going to say you’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“Isn’t that why you married me?” Charles looks at Max.

Max looks at Charles before breaking out into a grin. “Damn fucking right I did.” He murmurs before kissing Charles. Charles returns the kiss happily and grunts gently when Max pulls him closer. He can feel Max’s hard-on against his thigh before Max breaks the kiss, murmuring apologies.

“Let’s get you home and patched up before I show you how much I love you for being just as insane as me,” Max murmurs. Charles giggles and nods, leaning against Max as he basically carries Charles to the car and carefully gets into the car.

Charles rambles about the events leading up to the fight with Liam, mainly because Max demands him to keep talking. He can tell that Max is worried that he’ll pass out from blood loss and Charles lets a hand rest on Max’s thigh, gently rubbing soothing circles as he continues to give Max a play by play.

Daniel is waiting outside as they arrive at the Red Bull estate. He gives out a low whistle when Max and Charles make their way to the front door. “Jesus, what the fuck happened?”

“Some idiot in VCARB thought they could get one on me. Whole fight broke out.” Max grumbles as Daniel gently takes Charles from Max. “Liam got Charles.” He adds through gritted teeth. “If you excuse me, I have to talk to the remaining men from tonight.”

Daniel nods and helps Charles inside and to the medical wing of the estate. Daniel nods along to Charles who’s retelling his events once again as Daniel cleans and stitches Charles up. He informs Charles that he used dissolvable stitches for his side so no need for removal and his arm thankfully didn’t require stitches. He can shower 24 hours later and he needs to part the area around the stitches dry and no soap. He can’t swim or take a bath for a bit and he needs to wear looser fitting clothes while healing (which Charles is fine with because that means wearing Max’s clothes) as well as not doing a lot of activities that could strain the stitches. For his eye, he needs to ice it for the swelling to go down and just rock a black eye. The other bruises and very minor cuts will heal on their own but Daniel entertains Charles by putting red band aids on the minor cuts and gauze on the bigger bruises as a visual reminder to Charles that he’s injured.

Charles thanks Daniel when he comes back with some orange juice and snacks that Charles enjoys. Slowly, he gets off the table and thanks Daniel before wandering back to the main part of the estate. He sees Max waiting for him, arms crossed over his chest. He’s tapping his foot anxiously and Charles frowns. Seems that his chat with his men went sour which understandable. “Mon chéri?”

Blue eyes snap to him and Max relaxes but frowns. He moves to meet Charles and gently pulls him closer by his hips, murmuring, “Fuck, is it that bad? What did Danny say?”

“Said I have to wear looser clothes for a bit. No swimming or baths,” which sucks for Charles because he loves a good long bubble bath from time to time but whatever, " I can shower in 24 hours and have to pat the area dry. No soap around the area. He’s going to drop gauze off for me so I can change them. The side has dissolvable stitches so no need for removal but my arm will need to have them removed but he’s going to pop in and check. I need to ice my black eye. Everything else will heal normally but they’re just visual reminders. He said any second longer and I would’ve been in some deep shit cause I was teetering the blood loss territory but I’ll recover.”

“Okay, come on let’s get home, you’re probably exhausted.”

“Please.”

“Maaaaaax!” Charles whines, “Come back, the bed cold without you.”

Max lets out a laugh from their bathroom hearing Charles compliments. He finally wanders out from their bathroom in his boxers and leans against the door frame. He’s trying to behave. To follow Daniel orders but it’s hard when Charles looks like that.

Charles is currently lounging in their bed in one of Max’s shirts. Muscles flexing and hair a bit messy. He’s looking at Max with big green eyes as they start darkening while he lets his eyes roam before they’re blatantly staring at Max’s boxers and Max smirks.

“Aren’t you going to show me how much you love me? For beating Liam?” Charles asks innocently and Max silently asks Daniel for forgiveness as he makes his way over to Charles.

“You need rest.” Max murmurs as he climbs onto bed. He lets one hand rest on Charles' chest as he hovers over the younger male. “You know, doctors orders and all that shit.” He teases.

“But you said—”

“I know,” Max cuts him off gently. He leans down to kiss Charles and pulls back gently, “and I will. Promise.”

Charles makes a little happy noise before his hands are on Max, pulling him down for a bruising kiss. Teeth clash slightly before they find their rhythm. Max nips at Charles' bottom lip and slips his tongue into the younger male’s mouth. His tongue explores Charles’ mouth as he’s done time and time again, lapping up all the moans that Charles lets out. Max shifts himself, holding himself up on one elbow while the other hand ventures from Charles, resting gently and teasingly down to where his boxers should be. Instead, he’s met with bare skin and Max lets his fingers brush against Charles’ half hard on and that gets a gasp out of him.

“Eager, much?” Max teases with a smirk.

“A bit,” Charles breathlessly states. Max chuckles lowly as he moves to kiss Charles' jaw before moving to his neck as he lets his fingers gently run up and down Charles cock. He bites and sucks at Charles' neck letting the other squirm, earning gasps and soft moans from his husband before a whine escape from Charles' throat.

“Max, please.”

Typically, Max would give Charles what he wants. A heated make out session while opening him up, listening to the other become a puddle in his hands before turning him over and fucking him senseless but that wasn’t an option. He could do missionary but he would falter and give Charles the rough sex he wants and he also can’t leave bruising fingerprints on his sides. He could do one, but it wouldn’t be even and that would drive Max nuts.

Then the idea finally struck him.

Pulling back, Max climbs over Charles before laying next to him. “Sit on my face.”

“What?” Charles asks, coming out of his haze.

“I said, come here.” Max murmurs and gently pulls Charles to straddle him. His dick twitches seeing Charles straddling him while naked. Even if he’s decorated in gauze and bruises Charles looks like perfection. It’s unfair, really. “Turn around,” Max says gently and Charles complies. “Ah, no.” Max grabs Charles' throat swiftly but gently when Charles goes to get Max out of his boxers. “Remember, I said I was going to show you how much I love you. Now scoot up—”

Charles hesitates for a moment before listening. Max gets his hands on Charles' ass and, as gently as he can, pulls Charles back. He chuckles hearing the other squeak and scramble to find purchase before he steadies out.

“Max!” He scolds and turns his head to scold the other but stops at the sight. Max brings his gaze up to Charles but he’s already got his ass cheeks spread and tongue sticking out. Charles nearly cums right then and there as Max keeps eye contact as he licks a long stripe over his hole. Charles gasps loudly and puts a hand on Max’s chest. “I—fuck—Max—”

“Just sit there and let me hear all of your pretty noises.” Max states roughly.

Charles makes a noise of shock but nods quickly. He bites his bottom lip harshly as a pathetic whine threatens to escape past his lips when Max licks another one, purposefully slow. He yelps out of surprise when Max smacks his ass harshly. “Charles.” He threatens

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Charles sputters out quickly.

“Good boy.”

Charles mewls gently at the praise before Max is diving right back in, switching between long and calculated licks to quick kitten licks. Charles puts both hands on Max’s chest to steady himself, moaning and gasping softly. He gasps loudly before it melts into moan when Max lips his tongue in. He digs his claws into Max’s chest, earning a groan from the older male.

Dipping his head, Charles' mind swims with pleasure. He can’t even keep up with Max since he switches up his actions quick and fast, keeping Charles on his toes. His cock twitches and his eyes roll into the back of his head slightly when Max moves his hands to his thighs to keep him trapped, digging his nails gently into the flesh. In retaliation, Charles leans back, dragging his nails up Max’s chest as he starts rocking his hips back against Max.

Charles feels the familiar tightening in his lower stomach. Like a spring being wound up and tightening more and more and someone holding it down. He’s babbling nonsense while riding Max’s tongue begging for mercy from his own body. If he could just reach his hand up and—

Max switches to suck his rim gently and Charles comes undone. The tight feeling in his lower stomach pops like a spring being released and he’s coming. It hits him hard and feels like the spring had a boxer glove attached and hit him hard in the stomach. He’s clawing at Max’s chest, hips sputtering but continuing to move as he rides out his orgasm. His legs are shaking slightly when his orgasm finally stops and he whines when Max gives one more kitten lick before gently placing a kiss on his rim. Charles, thankfully with the help of Max, climbs off of Max though his eyes are glued to Max’s obvious hard on. He hums as he goes to the waistband of Max’s boxers again before Max catches his wrist gently, panting.

“Charles—you’re suppose to be resting.”

“I know, but like hell I’m letting my husband,” Charles purrs, “go to bed while edging himself so shut up and let me blow you.”

Max stares at Charles before letting out a laugh. As much as he wants to argue that Charles needs to rest and he could just fuck into Charles mouth, he can see the fire in Charles eyes and it makes his cock twitch and it reminds him just how tight his boxers are.

“Fine. You can blow me. Then you have to rest and let me take care of you.”

“Okay, deal.”

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

[honnelander]

How did Sanji and reader meet the first time? What did they think of each other at first impression 👀?

hmm interesting question! i feel like it would go a little something like this (in my main "mutual pining" series):

You had originally joined the crew back in the beginning with Luffy, Nami, and Zoro when they were going up against Buggy. Since helping them slice that clown pirate down to size, you were a straw hat.

You never particularly had a dream of your own or knew where you wanted to be, but once you met Luffy and his endless optimism and kindness?? You knew it then: you had found your people.

So when did you meet Sanji? At the same time as everyone else, at the Baratie.

After Nami slipped the host some berry to get your crew a table, you all made your way down to the main dining area. Watching Zoro struggle to slide into the booth because of his swords was practically the funniest thing you've ever seen so you couldn't help the laughter that came out of you and in turn, that made the rest of the straw-hats all join you in poking fun at Zoro and laugh your asses off (much to Zoro's chagrin).

"Fuck you guys," Zoro muttered as he gave each member of the crew their own personal death glare.

When the swordsman locked eyes with you for your own personal Zoro Death Glare, you couldn't help but laugh louder.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, everyone's favorite blonde-haired chef was busy making the infamous bluefin tuna special that led to him getting kicked out to wait tables that particular night.

As Sanji put the final touches on his off-the-menu special, wiped the edges of the plate clean, and confidently strode to the front of the line, all while bantering with Patty, he felt on top of the world.

Until Zeff crapped all over his dish and kicked him off the line.

"Fucking old man," Sanji snarled under his breath as he pushed the kitchen doors to the dining room a little more harsh than necessary.

As he walked into the dining room, slinging his suit blazer over his shoulders, he was fuming...until he heard a loud chorus of laughter come from his right. He looked up in curiosity as he buttoned his blazer in the little alcove next to the kitchen and scanned the dining room. Baratie was a more upscale, fine dining experience (especially for pirates), so for a table of guests to laugh as loud as he was hearing was certainly new to the cook. Whoever they were, they definitely must not be from around here.

His blue eyes immediately went to the table nearest to him, table eight, where he had his eyes set on the pretty blonde woman earlier in the night in hopes that she was the one laughing loudly but, no she wasn't. When he took the plate of pastries and took a few steps into the dining room, he heard the laughter towards his right and immediately looked that way with a cool gaze.

And the sight he was met with nearly took his breath away. At table ten, he saw the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen: you. There you were, sitting there at the table, laughing your ass off at the green-haired guy next to you, laughing so hard you were hitting the table with your fist, not a care in the world. It looked like everyone else at your table was laughing along with you, all except for mosshead (a stick in the mud, Sanji thought with a scoff).

Only one thought occupied his mind now, not Zeff, not the bluefin special, not being kicked out of the kitchen, just: you. You and your infectious laugh.

Everything after that happened in a blur. The two pirates at table eight both stood up enraged, yelling insults back and forth along with threats to kill each other, ripping Sanji's attention away from you and pissing him off all over again.

Could anything go right today?

Once he kicked those two pirates unconscious, he then smoothed out his suit jacket, let out a small exhale of satisfaction, and picked up the plate of pastries again. As he strode over to your table, he put on his most charming smile and placed the pastry plate right down on your table like nothing had just happened.

And to be fair? Pirates fighting did happen all the time, that was just another typical Tuesday night at the Baratie.

But meeting you? That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and he'd do anything to hear you laugh and see your gorgeous smile light up that pretty face of yours again.

He stared right at you as he said, "Good evening, and welcome to our shitty little restaurant: the Baratie."

At his tone and choice of words, you couldn't help but look at your extremely attractive waiter in surprise and confusion and let out a surprised laugh. Didn't he work here?

He kept going though but his charming smile only widened at hearing your laugh, his smile reaching his eyes as he said, "My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"

And in that moment, without the other person's knowledge, you were smitten with each other.

Taglist: @smolracoon25

[hakusins]

don't have blog but love art is okay if draw whittney a4 sorry for english

♡ Send me a DOL Character/PC + Expression! - Deeppink-man Expression Meme (OPEN!)

Hi there!! Thank you for the request and it's alright!! Your english is just fine!!

hehehe he looks like a strawberry

[plutoenjoyer]

Hii, how do you think the members would react when they realize that a friend of their crush also has a crush on her? I hope you understood me 😣

hi anon!!! thank you so much for being my first request<3 so sorry this took so long 😭 i hope you still enjoy though its so so late !!!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

xdh — finding out about a friend's crush on you (+ confessing)

genre: fluff as always, light angst (i love to see a man in emotional turmoil)

tags: drabble, ot6, female reader, jealousy/light possessiveness?, pining, starting as friends, friends to lovers, reader is shorter than them, confessions

warnings: none

note: reader is some sort of employee or person that works in their building or around the area for added context ... they see you often even if not directly working with them basically (vaguely gestures). and the friend is kiiiind of rude anyway so he doesnt deserve your time in the first place

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

gunil — tries to be respectful, succeeds. (and then fails)

perhaps he's very comfortable in his role as "the responsible one" as the eldest of the group. he tries to embody a role-model for his bandmates when he can, there's a very caring and deeply responsible part of him that naturally comes out. he is not known for being selfish. that being said, when he finds out one of your friends has a crush on you there is a deep urge in him to find you immediately and just confess all the feelings he's kept buried in him for months. it bothers him like mad, because he knows that he shouldn't get in the way of anything or anyone you might be vying for. what if you felt the same way about that friend? what if he made it difficult for you to choose him after confessing? what if he ruined his friendship with you when you didn't feel the same way? there were just so many uncertainties and not enough safety for his comfort, so he chose to suffer in silence, as he was used to doing.

there was a familiarity in being alone with his thoughts that he wasn't sure if he could find the courage to leave behind just yet.

he sits with this feeling for days. he tries to convince himself that he's simply content to see you at all, and wants to be happy for your happiness, though it is so clear to his bandmates that he's not his usual self lately.

it's not until he sees you with said friend that he can't help himself anymore. he hated that you were laughing with him, but he hated his lack of conviction more. he makes up his mind to tell you as soon as he gets the chance because the fear of rejection meant so much less to him than watching you get taken from him right before his eyes without doing anything about it.

and you—you're none the wiser about it all until gunil confronts you that night as you're heading home. the intense look on his face is something you've never seen before, passionate and desperate underneath the warm ambient light of the dimly lit room. it illuminates his face in a way that strikes through your heart. you always found him to be attractive, but tried not to let your feelings unfurl further since you knew that there was not a chance he'd feel the same way, not with all the projects and people he manages on a day to day basis. he was just too busy for romance. but right now in this moment, the way that his eyes are narrowed with a seriousness that you haven't seen from him before sends a shiver up your spine. and not just towards anyone, towards you.

he steps closer to you. you're basically backed up against the wall, your heart beating out of your chest. he's so close you finally get a good look at how his dark eyes are trying to find something in yours—answers. you can't help yourself from putting your hands on his chest and bicep to steady yourself.

"i... i have something to tell you." he speaks so lowly and so desperately it mixes in with the sound of his sharp breaths.

you can barely hear him because all you can focus on is the gentle curvature of his beautiful lips. he notices this, because with his hand he pulls your chin up in order to angle your face to meet his eyes, forcing you to see what sort of distress you've put him through.

for the first time in a long time he's wanted something, no, someone for himself, and you're about to find out what.

jungsu — tries to be respectful, fails immediately

jungsu is the sweetest guy ever. he's always looking out for others and wants the best for him. after finding out about your friend's crush on you, though, something takes over him. you wonder why he's suddenly being so much more attentive and sweet, way more than normal. comedically and somewhat pathetically (in a sopping wet dog with glassy eyes kinda way) offering to carry your things, buying you sweets, praising you—it was even a little much at times. you were starting to get a little annoyed, not because you didn't like it but because you were wondering why the hell he started acting like this out of nowhere.

it's not until you're out shopping with him that you start to connect the dots. you run into the friend-in-question and he sparks up a conversation with you, both of you completely unaware of the growing panic and jealousy growing in jungsu's mind.

to your surprise, the usually soft-spoken and patient guy interjects whatever you two were talking about and grabs your hand, hastily pulling you away into some other random store. at first you're worried that you did something to offend him, but then you notice the embarrassed pout on his face as you two slow down near some unassuming accessory store. he's chewing the inside of his cheek, wondering what possessed him to be so rude (he knows exactly why, he just couldn't stand watching you two get along and got swept up in his emotions). the people already in the store make some shifty glances at you two, some of the aunties even shaking their heads, going 'gosh, another lovers quarrel', but it doesn't reach your ears by how hard you're trying to figure him out right now. he has no explanation for himself, simply looking aimlessly at the assortment of necklaces on the racks and refusing to meet your eye. he doesn't let go of your hand.

"i-i'm sorry, i just ..." he's struggling so hard to find the words. he really should just come out and say it but that would mean confirming his feelings for you right here and now, and there was no way you'd accept considering what reckless thing he did just now. "you ... i just didn't want ..."

a beat of silence, and then a resounding 'oh' pops into your head as you finally realize that it was actually your friend that was the problem for him. you smile at his shaking visage. how cute.

what happens next is in your hands, the same ones that are fit so perfectly in his warm, nervous palms. you're glad the group of aunties left before you could do this.

the air feels electrifying. you pull him closer and stand on your tippy toes and he's watching you do this so adorably but it doesn't compute in his head until he finally feels the plush feeling of your lips against his, and suddenly he feels right again. this is what he's been waiting for this whole time.

gaon — gets clingy

jiseok has always been physically clingy. he shows his love and affection by quite literally hanging onto you, through hugs or wrapping his arm around yours. it is very casual and very natural for him to do that with people he loves. emotionally, however, he's a bit more withdrawn than expected. he likes his alone time. he likes you more. but, he is so painfully unaware of it. so when he finds out that your friend has a crush on you, the petty side of him that simmers at the surface of his mind really comes through without him doing it intentionally. it becomes an increasingly common occurrence for you to receive a text from him that goes along the lines of "are you busy friday? :)", or "there's a new movie i wanna see, can we hang soon?" because he thinks you'll genuinely enjoy what he had planned for you, and not because of any other reason.

this, of course, is his way of getting you away from that guy who's trying to get with you. honestly, he thinks he's boring and won't treat you right. there's really no one in your circle that he deems worthy for you.

you're more than happy to spend time with him. but it starts to get to a point where you're wondering 'what are we' when he starts to get a little more clingy, more so than his usual friendly self. his hands linger a little longer on yours, his eyes seem to follow your every move and he's smiling at you in a way that holds so much adoration that your heart starts beating faster.

when you text him that you can't hang because you feel bad you keep blowing off the friend-in-question, who had asked for your time today already, he sulks like crazy. he knows he shouldn't be so childish about it but it sucks because you're his best friend and you're wasting your time on him and he's going to confess to you and then you're gonna start dating each other and then you'll get married and go away forev—oh. oh man.

he quickly grabs his jacket and runs to your place before you can even think about leaving for your outing.

you see him show up to your front door and almost collapse to his knees, leaning an arm on the frame of your front door. "what the hell— jiseok?! are you okay?" and he's heaving so hard he can barely speak, "yeahi'mfineILOVE. YOU. ohgodmyribs. DON'T. GOTOHIM. i just. foundoutiloveyou. stay. right here". you can barely believe what he's saying, not only because he's huffing and puffing, but because you really had no idea he felt the same about you. the silence worries him because he looks up to see your confusion, or worse, hesitance, and through his labored breath and takes your hand in his. on one knee as if asking for your hand in marriage, "stay with me. please," and you can't help but laugh when it finally all clicks. this is such a dramatically jiseok way to profess feelings to someone. you're definitely gonna bring this up again.

but for now, with a bright smile, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, "come in. let's get you some water."

o.de — kicks himself into action

finding out is a wake-up call to him. he kicks himself for getting complacent. it's not that he didn't think other guys would be into you or anything, just that he didn't think it would happen so soon. he put off his feelings for you constantly because he feared ruining things between you two, but now that there was another guy in your radar it meant that he had to be on high alert. he immediately starts thinking about the best way to confess to you, and fast because who knows if this guy is going to sweep you off your feet out of nowhere.

he's trying to plan something grand and a little cheesy because he thinks, no, knows that you deserve to be appreciated. he would yell his love for you from the rooftops if he could. he's thinking about it so much that you stop hearing from him for a couple days. his absence lingers in the air around you and you start to wonder why it feels so heavy without him around, because wasn't he just a friend?

you get your hopes up when your phone pings with a text—but it's not from seungmin. there's a dull ache in your heart when you see it's from the friend-in-question. you're disappointed but don't want to take it out on him, so you say yes to dinner. you go with him, and clearly he's trying to make a move on you by spoiling you with a nice meal and compliments, but you just can't get your mind off of seungmin and what he's doing right now. you end the date, which was more just like him talking at you, by rejecting him. you're wondering if he was just friends with you to try and get a chance with you, and it hurt a little.

then, it happens. your phone buzzes as you're about to leave the restaurant. it's seungmin. as soon as you pick up he sounds out of breath and desperate. "where are you right now?!" and you answer honestly, about the date and how it ended, and how you missed talking to him. "stay right there, i'm coming."

he picks you up from the restaurant, having drove there in a hurry. there's roses and chocolate on the dashboard as if he were going on a date himself and you know immediately who it's for by the look on his face and the slight sheen of sweat like he'd been worried sick about something.

there's not even a moment that passes while in the car before you both can't help yourselves anymore, having the first real taste of what you two felt for each other, sealed with a kiss.

junhan — withdraws himself

junhan has always been quiet, but you were starting to love getting to have late night conversations with him about life itself, your place in the the universe and who's your favorite character in dungeon meshi. he seemed to open up when he was around you and you loved getting to pick apart his mind. you felt that you both were able to keep up each other's intellectual abilities, and it was refreshing.

so when he suddenly reverts back to the shy personality he had when you first met him, you know something's wrong. you're trying to figure out how to confront him about it without making him curl back into his shell even more.

in his mind, on the other hand, he's doing you a favor. after finding out that your friend has a crush on you, the one that is so much more extroverted and good at holding up conversations, he thinks its best that he takes a step back so he wouldn't be taking up space in your life that could be reserved for your friend. he throws himself into work even more so than before, using it as an excuse to avoid you so it doesn't hurt as much when you inevitably start dating that stupid guy. but that doesn't mean he stops watching and analyzing, watching to see if that guy really, truly was good enough for you.

and of course, he wasn't. call it intuition or just plain logic, junhan noticed how he very often seemed to talk over you. it bothered him to know that there's a possibility that you'd be happier with your friend, but it bothered him more to think about you unhappy with him, because at least junhan would actually notice if you were.

that wouldn't do at all. while junhan is very rational he absolutely does not mess around when it comes to you. the friend-in-question is busy chatting away while you're forced to listen to him. you think he's a nice guy, but he was the type of person who was more used to talking at someone rather than to them. you never really felt heard when speaking to him, unlike with junhan who took every word you said into account, making sure you knew your thoughts mattered to him.

junhan, with tingling fingertips and an audacity that could only be stirred up by the thought of losing you, calmly walks up to you two. you wouldn't have guessed it took all his courage to ask "can we get drinks tonight?" and you're over the moon at the mere suggestion, "is that even a question?! of course, i haven't seen you around in ages!". your eyes light up with excitement, unable to stop yourself from excitedly rambling about how you really wanted to talk about some new manga that dropped during his absence. junhan smiles at you, half because he knows this feels right, like you both were meant to be together in this moment, and half because he loves the way that guy's stupid grin drops when he sees how happy you are to see him.

"so it's a date?" junhan says with a radiant smile, almost as if the guy standing next to you didn't exist. he was enjoying taunting this guy a little too much, he thinks to himself. your jaw drops a little at this unexpected confidence, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want it to be. and so you shoot a quick, very obviously awkward glance at the so called 'friend', thinking about who you knew would treat you right, and turn back to say:

"it's a date."

jooyeon — makes it everyone's problem

when jooyeon finds out about your friend's crush on you he cannot stop from complaining about him to his bandmates. jiseok rolls his eyes hearing the groans from jooyeon, going for the millionth time this week that "he's just not right for her" and "he's not even good looking" and "she's way out of his league!" to lying in bed upside down with his head hanging off the edge groaning into his palms, "but what if she likes him though?! do you think she does?! is that why she hasn't been around lately? aghhhh, girls are so confusing. this sucks. wanna play league?" in which jiseok replies with a sigh, "dude, you could just text her and figure it out for yourself right now." and leaves before his head explodes from how much of a baby joo gets when he's frustrated about something.

when he's finally alone, jooyeon gets to sit alone with his thoughts. just pure and utter him, not the shining jooyeon on stage with his bass, and the thought of you, beautiful and kind, and how much he misses the sound of your pretty laugh. you're constantly on his mind. sometimes he finds himself idly smiling about some dumb text you sent him or the one time where you tried singing along to his strumming and it wasn't good but you gave it your all. it was just so you. you're his friend, yes, but he didn't realize how he felt something so much more for you until the idea of you not being around him anymore became a very real possibility.

the thought of you not being in his life wasn't even in the question for him. it breaks his heart to think of such a thing happening, that he wouldn't be the one making you happy but some other, boring, loser of a guy ... but he doesn't let the others know that part. deep down he's more insecure than he lets on. whatever exasperated complaining he lets out barely scratches the surface of the sort of emotional vortex swirling in him at this very moment thinking about you dating someone else.

when he sees you he makes it so unbelievably obvious, everyone around you two is betting on the moment that you finally realize. you're wrapping up your lunch together when he brings it up. "stoooop hanging out with him, he's boring and he only plays fps games, i mean come on," he's basically begging you like a kid.

you snort at him, "and you know almost every pokemon. he's not doing anything wrong, we all have things we really like." you're saying this to defend your point but in reality you also thought it was annoying that that was all he talked about with you and didn't seem to care about what you liked at all.

"yeah, well." jooyeon grumbles, pitifully tucking his head into the crook of his arm, leaning onto the table. he doesn't make eye contact with you, just pouting cutely. "heard he likes you, too... he's not special." the last part is almost unintelligible from the way he buries his head further into his arm as he says it.

that piques your interest. "oh? what was that? after the first part?" you know exactly what you heard but you just can't help yourself from teasing him.

"'ts nothing."

"joo." he refuses to meet your eyes but you see the tips of his ears reddening.

"i gotta get back to practice."

"joooooyeon. lee jooyeon. jooyeon of xdinary heroes. did i hear correctly? 'he's not special?'"

he's already walking off.

"joo, you know i'm going to the same place as you!" you shout after him. quickly, you shove your things into your bag and catch up to his rather hasty speed. you're giggling because you can read him like a book. that cute little pout on his face is all you need to see before you go to grab his hand mid step. he jolts a bit, not expecting your touch, before he eases into it and finally looks you in the eye.

"you ..."

shifting your hand so your fingers interlock, you smile at him, looking him in the eyes with earnest, "i like you, too."

in a few moments he's trying to stay cool and ends up failing miserably by how the corners of his mouth refuse to stay still. he can't help himself from breaking into a grin at those words. he would get to it later, be able to grandly profess his love to you like how he had imagined it going in his head, but for now he was content with this. simple and happy with your hand enveloped in his larger one.

it's by no means a scene out of a drama, but it was perfectly enough for the two of you.

(later that night jooyeon is so completely over the moon about being chosen. it feeds his ego BAD. you have to take him down a peg by telling him how he hasn't really properly confessed to you yet, and you are very entertained by how he stutters and struggles to say it to you directly after such a grand display of confidence. oh, joo ...)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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thank you for reading! <3

[the-broken-pen]

love your writing yo can I ask for a little hurt-comfort mlm

“Oh. Oh. That’s—that’s a lot of blood,” the voice above him sounded strangled, like they were choking on every word.

The hero cracked an eye open, dizzy and cold and tired, and hummed something that could have been an agreement.

“Hey,” he said, voice raw, and his friend stifled a sob as they collapsed onto their knees at his side.

Their hands pressed hesitantly against the wound, and they were trembling. His hands were slick with blood. It took everything in them to drag them, shaking, to rest on top of his friends, and press down hard.

The pained noise he made caught in the back of his throat. Just barely.

“You have to press harder,” he managed. The pain had swelled to something almost unbearable. He was drowning in it, to the point where it was almost the kind of pain where it became something wretched, something else that swallowed you whole. “The bleeding, it—“ he had to stop, gasping for a breath.

His friend had started crying, but they pressed harder, dutifully. He loved them for it.

“I don’t know what to do,” they sobbed. “You don’t do hospitals. What do I do.”

He let go of his friends hand, digging for his pocket. His grip slipped the first two times; he managed it on the third, sliding his phone onto his stomach.

“Speed dial,” he offered, and closed his eyes before the look on his friend’s face made him vomit.

“Speed dial? Speed dial. Okay. Okay,” his friend said. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.” He was certain his friend wasn’t saying it to him. Their free hand scrambled for his phone.

By the time they managed to get it to ring, the world around him had turned into something muffled and cotton around him.

“You? You’re his speed dial—don’t…I don’t know what….bleeding…not responding…please, just….”

A crack cleaved the air, the smell of ozone suddenly stronger than the smell of his own suffering, and then a hand was replacing his friend’s. The other found the side of his face, thumb curving under his jaw.

“Hey,” and oh, he knew that voice—something raw in his chest eased. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

He managed, just barely, and the villain peered down at him.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“You’re bleeding out,” the villain said, and it was the softest he’d ever heard him. “You need care, or you’re going to die. Can I move you?”

Do you trust me?

“Always,” he tried, but it came out weak and desperate.

The villain pressed harder, and he keened high and pained in the back of his throat. On instinct, his hand darted up to the villain’s wrist, latching on too tight for anyone without superpowers to handle. The villain didn’t flinch.

“You’re okay,” the villain murmured. His thumb brushed over the hero’s jaw, soothing.

There was something the hero was forgetting—

“My friend,” he choked out. “Where—are they—where—“ he struggled to sit up, and the villain simply guided him back down.

“They’re fine,” the villain promised. “I sent them home. Maybe a little traumatized, but they’re okay.”

“Okay.” The hero nodded to himself, or he tried, or he didn’t. “Okay. They’re okay, okay, I’m—“

“Okay,” the villain finished for him, and even half sick in pain the hero could tell he was intentionally keeping his voice easy. “You’re okay. You’re going to be just fine, I promise.”

His hand shifted underneath the hero’s back.

“Breathe for me?” The hero tried, and managed a half wheeze. The villain just nodded. “Good. This is gonna suck.”

His other hand wormed its way underneath the hero’s knees. He blinked, trying to clear his blurry vision, and the villain stared at him. Barely disguised concern was written into every inch of him, like the only thing his bones could remember was panic. For him.

The villain was scared for him.

That was bad.

“What’s going to suck—“

The villain hauled him upwards, and his vision went white.

He woke up some time later, chest heavy and head floating somewhere above his body.

He hummed something that might have been a question, and the villain was above him in an instant.

“Are you in pain?”

The hero blinked at him for a moment. Mostly because he couldn’t really remember how to do anything else. The world felt sluggish. A second delayed behind normal. Which should have been concerning, panic worth and world ending, but it simply just…was.

“No,” he said finally, and his voice sounded weird. His throat ached, separated from him by a wall of warmth. “I was screaming?”

The villain swallowed, hard, and the hero managed to drag his gaze down to the needle and thread clutched in the villain’s hand.

“Yeah.” The villain sounded like he was choking on the words. “You were screaming.”

He opened his eyes whendidheclosethem and peered upwards again. He was on a couch. Or a bed? Bed, he decided a second later. The villain was kneeling next to him, and there was something soft tucked around his legs. He went to sit up, look down at his stomach; the villain’s hand came up to rest on his forehead, gently keeping him down. He must have made some noise of displeasure, because a moment later, the villain’s hand carded through his hair.

“Easy,” he murmured, focusing back onto the hero’s side. He heard the snip of thread; the sound of the villain throwing something onto a side table without care.

“What did you give me?” The hero’s tongue felt thick in his mouth.

“Lots,” the villain said.

“Lots,” he said back, managing to sound more incredulous than he actually cared to feel at the moment, and the villain snorted. “Haven’t heard of that one before.”

“Had to make something special for the boy wonder,” the villain smoothed a hand down his side, and the hero half leaned into it. Mostly he managed to sink further into the mattress. “You burn through shit fast, you know?”

The hero did know. He knew very well, unfortunately.

“Thanks,” he managed. His head lolled to the side without his permission, resting against the villain’s arm.

“You’re going to pass out again,” the villain informed him. He made a noise in the back of his throat that could have meant anything. The villain seemed to understand regardless.

Am not, he tried to say.

The haze of medication and blood loss stole him first.

The next time he woke, he was half sprawled against the villain’s side. Something cold was set onto his cheek, and he reached up to remove it, hand clumsy. The villain caught it before he managed to remove anything.

“You spiked a fever,” he said quietly. “I just got it back down. That’s probably why you woke up. How are you feeling?”

That was…a lot.

“No pain,” he said eventually. He thought he felt the villain give a heavy sigh of relief.

The world was clearing itself up bit by bit, settling the furniture back into the correct places until it no longer felt like things were sliding around him.

The villain’s hand was back into his hair again.

“Good,” the villain said, but the hero wasn’t really sure it was meant for him.

Something in his chest loosened.

“I thought I was going to die,” he admitted, and he wished his tongue was still numb, because the villain stilled, hand curled in his hair.

“That’s not what you told your friend.”

And yeah, the hero half remembered the pieces of that. A promise he was okay. Everything would be fine. He was always fine, wasn’t he? How strongly do you have to will to will someone to stay. Exactly how many pounds of force does it take to stop someone from bleeding out—

There was a chill curling itself around his ribs.

“I thought I was going to die,” his voice was raw. It wasn’t because of his throat. He sounded afraid, even to himself.

“I would never have let you do that,” he managed a moment later. His hand resumed in his hair.

And somehow, despite the knowledge of how hard it truly was to save someone, how long it took to learn that kind of information, the knowing of exactly what was survivable and what couldn’t be escaped, how strong you had to be to shift through rubble—the hero believed him.

“I know,” he said, because the villain had to know. That he believed him. That he would always believe him.

He melted into the villain’s side.

I trust you, I trust you, I trust you

The villain hummed, in that way of his that told him he understood exactly what the hero couldn’t vocalize.

“I’m your #1 speed dial?” He questioned after a moment.

The hero huffed a laugh.

“You’re my only speed dial.”

The villain froze.

And then he was shifting, pulling the hero closed to him. The villain tucked him close, chin settling onto the top of his head. The hero pressed his face into the hollow of the villain’s neck.

“I will always come,” he said, and this time, his voice was the one that was raw. “You call, and I will be there.”

He said it like it was easy. Like it was that simple.

Maybe it was.

Maybe for them it always had been.

A fondness he couldn’t put words too settled onto his shoulders.

He simply breathed into the villain’s neck, and the villain’s arms looped around him a bit tighter.

“You’re okay,” the villain said into his hair. Like he was confirming it.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re lucky you have super healing.”

“I’m lucky I have you.”

The villain laughed softly.

“Suck up.”

“And what? You gonna stop me?”

He could practically feel the eye roll. “Been trying for years. Hasn’t stuck.”

“Well, you had the perfect opportunity—“

The villain hushed him.

“Just. Shhh for a bit,” he said softly.

The hero, obediently, shhh’ed.

The villain’s hand ran through his hair again, and his eyes shuttered closed, settling further against the villain’s chest.

“Cheater,” he murmured, and the villain huffed a laugh, but didn’t deign a response.

And together, comfortably, curled around one another like two halves of a whole, they just breathed.

[yasmindifference]

8 (my birthday is the 8!)

The night is unseasonably warm, barely even cool enough for long sleeves. As such, the suit jacket Jason drapes around Tim's shoulders five minutes into their walk nearly makes him roll his eyes.

He channels his reaction into a girlish giggle instead, then has to swallow a more sincere laugh when he sees how the high-pitched sound nearly cracks Jason's mask.

"You're soooo chivalrous," Tim says, unable to resist pushing that little bit further. His Valley girl impersonation puts a twitch in Jason's eye every time. "Like, swoon."

Jason wraps an arm around Tim's waist--probably solely to disguise the sharp pinch he delivers to Tim's side--and smiles down at him.

"You deserve it, baby," he says, in the same smarmy tone he's been using all night.

It makes Tim want to punch him, a reaction he's sure Jason's eliciting on purpose--after all, he's been doing the same thing with his own Valley girl impersonation.

...It's possible he and Jason aren't taking this mission as seriously as they should be.

Oh well.

In retaliation for the pinch, Tim fakes a stumble over a crack in the sidewalk and drives his elbow into Jason's gut, earning a faint oof he wants to smile over.

Instead, he puts his hands to his face in exaggerated dismay.

"Oh, I'm so clumsy," he says mournfully. "It's so embarrassing..."

Jason brushes his hair (or rather, his wig) out of his face and twists his ear painfully in the process; Tim applies his stiletto heel to the toe of Jason's left shoe.

"You're not clumsy, baby, it's just those shoes," Jason says, voice a little tight--with pain or annoyance? Tim can't tell. "You want me to go get the car?"

"No, no," Tim says, "it's such a nice night--just look at those stars!"

He tips his head back and gazes dreamily at the sky which, being in Gotham, shows not a single star.

"They're so beautiful," he says happily.

"Not as beautiful as you," Jason says, with such smarmy passion that Tim barely remembers to hide the laugh he can't help behind a cough.

"Oh, pookie bear," he says--

--and finally, Jason breaks.

He lets go of Tim's waist to brace his hands against his knees as he cackles, choking out "fucking hell" and "pookie" as he struggles to catch his breath.

Tim just smiles and enjoys the victory.

"Okay," Jason says once he catches his breath, "holy shit, you win. How the fuck did you say that with a straight face?"

"Practice," Tim says dryly. "You play the tough guy too often. You should branch out more, broaden your range. Then you won't be so easy to shake."

Jason gives him a flat look and, straightening to his full height, spreads his arms in a silent invitation to look at him. Admittedly, Jason's height and bulk do make him less than ideal for the kinds of covers Tim prefers.

Tim was bullshitting anyway--Jason might default to tough guy, but he's entirely capable of more versatile covers. And he really wasn't that easy to shake; Tim was kind of expecting to break him when he showed up in a dress, stilettos, and wig without warning. Instead, he lasted all through dinner and a ways into their walk.

"Okay, you lasted a lot longer than I expected," he admits.

Jason smirks. "Admit it, I almost got you at dinner."

It's true that Tim came extremely close to breaking when Jason spoke over and ordered for him at the restaurant. Tim actually didn't get to say a single word to their waitress--not even thank you.

"You almost got a plate dumped in your lap," he corrects. Now that they've given up the covers, he shrugs out of Jason's jacket and hands it back. "I could see Ashley thinking about it every time you cut me off."

"Yeah, that was a close one," Jason agrees. "I doubled my usual tip in thanks for her restraint."

Tim nods in approval. "But yeah, admittedly I was not expecting you to go the--"

"Hello?" Dick's voice breaks in, thick with annoyance and a little too loud over the comms. "Did you guys forget that you have a job to do? This does not sound like an undercover conversation!"

Tim and Jason trade eyerolls.

"Good catch, Dickiebird," Jason says. "We are not in fact undercover."

"Excuse me?"

"Dick," Tim says with extreme patience, "Damian is a trained vigilante. He absolutely does not need us as backup on his first date."

Dick gasps in offense. "We agreed--"

"No, we agreed," Jason corrects.

"Yeah, we agreed your mother-henning was out of control," Tim says. "We tipped off Damian last night so he could change his reservation."

"And got Babs to find something to distract you with so you couldn't come follow him yourself," Jason adds.

Dick splutters.

"Take a deep breath," Tim suggests.

"Chill the fuck out," is Jason's less gentle contribution. "Anyway, we're done for the night. You should call it, too--maybe work on remembering the kid is sixteen and not six."

"Harsh but fair," Tim agrees thoughtfully. "Night, Dick!"

Dick is still spluttering when Tim pulls out his comm.

"How much do I owe you for dinner?" he asks Jason.

Jason shrugs and slings his jacket over one shoulder. "Buy me ice cream, we'll call it even."

"Deal," Tim says.

Because he, unlike Damian, is no longer a teenager, he doesn't ask if going for ice cream constitutes a real date.

He can't stop himself from wondering, though.

Happy early birthday, anon!!! In celebration, this got very long lmao. Prompt #8 was two characters on a nighttime stroll! I hope you enjoyed! ♡♡

[tmos-time]

Your Eridan designs makes me want to give him a jar of cookies and put a movie on for him

Sollux gets maybe one cookie

(I am totallyyyy not bias)

you do realize eridan's going to share more cookies when you aren't looking anon; look at him, he's already put them in a bowl, that's prime setup for sharing right there

[naivegh0ul]

OKAY BUT how about Older¡Ghost extremely jealous when his neighbor (reader) brings someone to her house to fuck with her? He would be extremely mad about it, but couldn't help but hear her moans and whimpers, wishing it was him instead making her feel good. (And to be honest, she may only did that to caught Ghost's attention )

YESSS god I love the idea of jealous Older!Ghost (it took me way too answer this i am so so so sorry anon!!!)

(warnings: smut, fem reader, older!ghost, jealousy, blowjobs, face fucking)

(word count: 1908)

It's 3am and Ghost hasn't gotten an ounce of sleep. How could he, when he can hear you moaning so sweetly through the walls. This has been a nightly occurrence. Ghost would go to bed, lay there for a while as he scrolled through pictures of you on his phone, and then the moaning would start.

The first time it happened, Ghost brushed it off, he's heard you pleasuring yourself through the walls before. Hell, he's even watched you. But this time you sounded different. Not so breathy, more high-pitched. Exaggerated.

The second time, he heard the creaking noise. Your bed must be rocking back and forth. Again, not the first time Ghost has heard that, but it is the first time he's heard grunts to go along with it.

Now, at three o'clock in the morning, Ghost has finally had enough. He climbs out of bed, feeling angry and annoyed. Angry that his sleep is being disrupted, and annoyed that he's hard from your moans.

He storms out of bed and out of his house, making his way towards your home in only a pair of grey sweatpants and socks, the imprint of his hard cock visible at the front of his sweats.

There's no response when Ghost knocks the first time, so he goes to knock again but your front door swings open before he can. "Mr. Riley!" You exclaim, slightly out of breath. "W-what's the matter?"

Ghost looks you up and down not so discreetly, noting the fact that one of your pant legs is riding up a little, and your shirt is up slightly, revealing the hickies and bite marks littering your stomach.

A twinge of jealousy filled Ghost at the sight. He has no right to be jealous, he knows that, but he is. You are his. Not officially, but you belong to Ghost. He knows what you like, how to crook his fingers to make you cry out his name, what filthy things to say to make you an embarrassed, whining mess.

That man in your bed probably has no idea what to do, he most likely just whipped his dick out and tried to put it in you, not even bothering to make you cum on his fingers first. He's probably your age, too. Young, immature, thinks with his dick.

Ghost can feel himself getting riled up the more he thinks about that stupid guy in your house. Ghost's is gonna give him what he deserves, the second he leaves your house Ghost is gonna wrap his hands around his throat and watch the life bleed from him-

"Simon?" Your sweet voice coos, pulling Ghost out of his spiraling thoughts. "Have a nice night." Ghost grunts out, turning away and walking straight back to his house.

Going to your house was a bad idea. You're a grown woman, for God's sake. He should leave you alone and stop being such an obsessive old man.

The sound of your sock-covered feet hitting the pavement has Ghost turning around before he enters his house. "Simon!" You say, looking up at him as you come to a stop on his front doorstep. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?" There's clear concern in your eyes, making Ghost's heart melt.

"'M fine, love. Don't worry 'bout me." Ghost sighs, reaching forward to ruffle your hair. "Go back inside, 'm sure your guest is waitin' for you."

Ghost tries to turn around again but your hands reach out and grab the waistband of his joggers. "He..." You mumble, looking down at your feet. "He doesn't make me feel as good as you do." You admit as you glance up at Ghost with pleading, desperate eyes.

"Love..." Ghost sighs again "'M too old for you, alright? Go back inside, pretty girl." He leans forward and kisses your forehead softly and strokes your hair before pulling back.

Suddenly, you're on your knees in front of him, hands tugging at his waistband. "Please, Simon?" You coo, palming him through his joggers. Ghost swears under his breath, cock twitching and his hands curling into fists as he fights off the urge to give in.

No, he gave in once. He got his fill, he shouldn't be greedy. But you look so pretty in front of him, kneeling on the hard concrete, your face so close to his throbbing cock.

"You really want this, don't you?" Ghost says as he rubs the bridge of his nose. "Come on, get up. Don't want you kneeling on the concrete." Ghost reaches down and pulls you up, guiding you into his house.

Once the door is shut, you sink to your knees again, eager to please Ghost. "Fuck, you're eager." Ghost breathes as he undoes the ties on his sweatpants, pushing the garment down past his hips, exposing his cock to you.

He watches as your throat bobs and you swallow, your hands sliding up and down his thighs impatiently. Ghost wraps a hand around himself and strokes himself a few times, watching as you shuffle forward and open your mouth.

"Just this once." Ghost thinks to himself as he grabs the back of your head and slowly pushes his cock inside your waiting mouth, groaning loudly as the feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfs him.

His hand guides you up and down the length of his cock, his fingers tangled in your hair and tugging ever so slightly. He has to fight the urge to buck forward, to fuck into your mouth as you drool all over him.

When he feels your hand on his balls suddenly, he jolts, a moan being shocked out of him as you gently roll them in your hand. "Attagirl," Ghost praises softly, barely audible over the sound of your slurping and gagging as you try to pleasure him at your pace, not his.

Ghost lets you do what you want, letting go of your hair and watching as you scoot forward and take more of Ghost into your mouth. It's a delicious sight, seeing your mouth stretching around him as your fingers wrap around the base of Ghost's cock.

You move further down Ghost's shaft each time, taking more and more of him. Your lips bump into your fingers as you take away one each time, building yourself up until finally you've got Ghost's cock buried deep in your throat, your neck bulging ever so slightly.

"Fuuuck," Ghost groans as he throws his head back, bumping it into the wall. His hips jerk, forcing himself further down your throat and making his heavy balls slap against your face. When you swallow around him, it takes everything in him not to cum right then and there. He has to pull you back so he can control himself.

You're pulled off with a wet cough, one hand holding your throat while the other wipes the spit from your mouth. "Why'd you stop?" You rasp as you look up at Ghost, licking your lips.

"Got close." You tilt your head at his explanation. "Why didn't you just cum then?" Your hand finds its way back to Ghost's cock, your thumb and forefinger gently pulling back Ghost's foreskin as you wait for a response.

"Didn't know if... mhm, if you wanted me to." He pauses mid-sentence as you wrap your lips around his tip, lapping the milky white precum beading from his slit. Your tongue digs under his foreskin, licking him teasingly.

You're so good at this, making Ghost feel like he has no control and you're in charge when you're only giving him a blowjob. You're not even doing anything special, not ordering him around or trying to be dominant, you're just gently suckling on his cock and now you've got him wrapped around your finger.

And it's not fair. Ghost wants to fuck a pretty girl like you with no repercussions, but he knows that's not possible, the moment they're having explains that all away. You can't get pleasure from anyone other than Ghost, and he can't stop himself from pleasuring you.

He's trying so hard to focus and what you're doing, but the way your hand strokes him and your tongue laps at him has him feeling floaty and drunk so he doesn't notice when he starts thrusting his hips forward slowly, fucking into the wet heat of your mouth.

Your hands hold onto his hairy thighs as he gently fucks your mouth, your nails scratching lightly as you let him do what he wants. He sounds so gorgeous, breathy moans and groans escaping his throat as he rocks his hips.

You watch him, big eyes looking up at Ghost curiously as you swallow. He looks so good from where you're kneeling, mindless yet focused as he moves you up and down on his cock like you're a toy, just a thing for his pleasure.

And you let him. You let him drag you along his cock or hold you still so he can fuck into your mouth; you let him lose himself as he stares into your teary, lustful eyes.

"So pretty down there." Ghost mumbles, slurring his words as if he's drunk on the feeling of you. "Perfect little mouth, so warm..." His hand moves from the back of your head to the side, Ghost's other hand joining in as he holds you still and slowly thrusts into your mouth, letting out breathy little grunts each time.

He's close, you can tell from the way his breathing speeds up and hips move faster, eagerly bucking into your mouth. Ghost gets rough when he's close, you know that, so you're prepared when he adjusts his stance and grips your head tighter, pulling you down so your nose is buried in the thick hair at the base of his cock.

"Fuuuck," Ghost groans as he feels your throat contract, watches as your eyes water and your hands grip his thigh. "Good fucking girl, takin' me so well." His thumb swipes below your eye, wiping away your tears as his hips snap against your face, balls slapping your chin.

"'M close," He pants, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. "You gonna swallow it like a good girl?" At his words, you moaned, eyebrows pinching as you scooted forward on the floor and licked at the sensitive vein on the underside of Ghost's cock.

“Yeah, ‘s what I thought.” His hands tighten their hold on your head, pulling you closer to him. You’re a gagging, drooling mess, hands planted in your lap as you hear Ghost let out a loud, long moan, his hips stilling as he forces his cock further into your mouth, spilling his seed down your throat.

When Ghost finally lets you off – after holding you there for an unreasonable amount of time – you splutter and cough, one hand gingerly holding your throat while the other wipes your mouth.

You stand up after a moment, knees clicking and cracking from being so stiff and you look at Ghost with a tiny smile on your face and a happy expression. Boldly, you lean closer, standing on your tiptoes as you go in for a kiss.

But Ghost stops you with a hand on your shoulder, shutting you down. “We shouldn’t.” He shakes his head as he speaks. He can see the look of hurt and confusion in your eyes as you step back, visibly embarrassed.

“Um, I’ll go now.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. “Bye, Mr. Riley.”