#fluff

[strange-birb]

Some Wayne gala fits for the boys! I saw something similar by @fallen-jpg and wanted to do some of my own lol

Ps… I’m not good with backgrounds lol and I made Damian much older cause I didn’t want to draw a kid …

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[icepopstar5105us]

“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”

Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”

“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”

Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”

“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”

“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”

Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”

“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny said.

“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”

“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.

“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”

“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”

“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”

Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”

“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.

“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”

Johnny took a sharp breath.

“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.

“That’s - Kid…”

“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”

“Seriously?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”

“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”

“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”

“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”

“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”

“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”

“Well… who called you that?”

“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”

Johnny blanched, “What?”

“And now you’re freaking out, too.”

“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”

“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”

“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”

“I thought that was just a saying.”

“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”

Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”

“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”

“Kid…”

“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”

“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”

“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“

Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”

“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”

“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”

“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”

“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”

“For me? What-“

“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”

“Thanks.”

—

Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.

“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”

“They are correct.”

“I didn’t know what ancients were.”

“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”

“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”

Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”

“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“

“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”

“What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”

“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”

“Yeah?”

“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”

“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, everything froze.

Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.

“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.

“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.

“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.

“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“Vlad-“

“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”

“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“

“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”

“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”

“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”

“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.

“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”

“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”

“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”

Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”

“You do?” Pandora blinked.

“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”

“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.

“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”

“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”

Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.

“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.

“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”

“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”

“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.

Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.

“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”

“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.

“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”

“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”

“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”

“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.

“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”

“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”

“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”

“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good, then-“

“Hey! I was not finished-“

“TIME OUT!”

Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”

[monzabee]

viva las vegas - mv1 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, having sex tipsy but there is consent?, manhandling, unprotected sex (are you even surprised at this point), oral (fem receiving), sex (duh), cursing, cockwarming (oops), minors dni!!

Request: “Hey babe! I’m obsessed with your last Charles piece, I’ve been wanting to read something like that for such a long time and you did it perfectly 😍🥹 I was wondering if I could request kind of the same concept with Max Verstappen? Like he always is pictured as a tough guy and stuff, but when you see him in videos he’s kind of a goof, so I imagine the first time he’s intimate with his gf they’d both laugh and have the sweetest time together” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! is this my best work? no but it is something i managed to get done for the first time in like a month so here it is!! finishing this fic was a journey within itself, but i can honestly say that it was also kind fun? also, i saw a picture of max in his suit from vegas and that just inspired this whole thing, so i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Max is buzzing with life, quite literally, you can feel him practically buzzing the whole time he’s trying to take you back to your hotel room as fast as possible. It’s most likely due to the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed after the race. Honestly it is pure luck that you found your way back to your room, given your current state, but instead of joining you when you jump on the bed, revelling in its comfort, he chooses to stand at the end of the bed as he watches you with an entertained smile on his face.  

“What?” you ask, a laugh washing through you as you raise yourself on your elbows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

He lets his eyes wander over your figure, his smile becoming more boyish as he lets it widen on his face, “You look pretty,” he murmurs, bending down so he can lower himself over your body better, “have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?” 

“Um, yeah, Maxie,” you giggle as you point out, “you’ve been telling me that the entire night.” Using your hands as support while raising yourself more so that you could be face to face with him, “I think you look pretty too, you know?” 

“Yeah?” Max murmurs, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, his thumb quick to caress the apple of your cheek, which causes you to lean into his touch. “What if I wanted to kiss you, would that be okay?” 

The smile you offer him in return is sweet, the way your eyes seem to shine at the offer of feeling his lips against yours makes his heart beat faster in his chest. “Yes, please.” Your voice is softer, almost comes out as a whisper due to you suddenly feeling out of breath.  

And who is he to deprive his girl? 

He doesn’t waste any time pressing his lips against your awaiting ones, in fact, the movement of his lips are rushed, if not almost desperate. It's as if he can't get enough, as if he's afraid this moment might slip away like sand through his fingers. The taste of alcohol lingers on both your lips, and normally you would be weirded out about it, but you realise it only adds to the intensity of the kiss you’re sharing with Max. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and you find yourself responding eagerly. You let him take control, mostly because it’s so easy for you to lose yourself in his kiss. He’s lost in it too, if you had to guess, because the way his tongue is fighting over yours for dominance is so different compared to the way Max usually kisses you. You whine at the loss of his lips when he reluctantly pulls away, and if he wasn’t already hard, the sound makes Max’s cock instantly harder. His head is thrown back, eyes closed as he lets out a groan, and he has to stop himself from pulling you in for another kiss. But you clearly have other plans as you drag your lips down towards his jawline, leaving kisses in a random pattern until you reach that one specific point on his neck that absolutely drives him crazy.  

And you know it’s only a matter of time until he stops you, again, as he has done for the past whatever months of your relationship. It’s not that you are not attracted to each other, because the attraction is as clear as day, and you have done stuff – not sex, but stuff. You’re not sure Max does that, but you also don’t want to be the one who pressures him into having sex with you if he doesn’t want to. Unbeknownst to you, the same goes for Max, who thinks you’re not ready to have sex with him and wants your first time together to be as special as possible.  

So no, you’re not surprised as he gently peals himself from you, causing you to whine again at the loss of him, but instead he gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he mumbles, “Why don’t you take a shower? We’ll go to bed after that.”  

“Is that your way of telling me I smell?” You ask in a playful tone, and he responds to you with a roll of his eyes. “What if I don’t want to go to sleep?”  

“No?” He asks, actively searching your expression for any sign of discomfort or reluctance. “We’ve had a long day, are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” The look you give him in return for his question is enough, and he knows this, but he also wants to actually hear the words, so he points, “Use your words, liefje.” 

A puff of breath leaves your lips in annoyance, but, nonetheless, you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster as you whine, “Please Maxie, you know what I want.”  

“Do I?” He muses, pulling you onto his lap as he ghosts his lips across your jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.”  

“Maxie,” you drag out his name, whining as your attempt at rolling your hips against his thighs don’t work. “You are being mean.”  

“Oh, baby,” he mockingly copies your pout, “I’m sorry. Can I apologise with a kiss?” To make his point, he presses a couple of soft kisses along your jawline.  

“Will you kiss me the way I like?” You ask, slightly out of breath, but his agreement that comes in the form of a hum makes you smile mischievously. His lips trail more kisses towards the neckline of your dress, and eventually through the valley between your breasts that is exposed by the lack of fabric. And you have every intention to let him have his way with you, you really do – after all, he won another great race. But a part of you also knows that making him suffer, even if just a little bit, in the process is so much more fun. So, just as he’s about to free of your breasts from the bustier of your dress, you quickly move away, slipping from his hands, trying your hardest not to laugh at the bewildered expression on his face. “On second thought, I think I’m going to take that shower after all.”  

“I—what?” Max mumbles, his slightly swollen lips pulled in a pout, and you can’t help but give him a small kiss.  

“I’ll see you after my shower, Max Emilian.” Sauntering over to the bathroom, you make sure to add an extra sway to your hips – and the sigh that Max leaves cause the smirk on your face to grow. 

It’s pure torture for Max to wait until you come out of the shower. Not that he doesn’t think about just joining you, especially after the show you just put on, but that would be giving into what you want – and though Max is a generous lover, he is also stubborn. He is more than happy to give you what you want, as long as it is on his terms. And so, he waits patiently, until you come out of the bathroom, a robe draped over your body, and he can’t help himself but let his eyes roam over your body.  

“How was your shower?” Max asks, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, a wolfish grin curving up on his lips. He rests his hands behind his head, relaxing onto the pillows behind him. He watches you give him a shrug, the soft-looking material sliding of your shoulder slightly as you collect your hair onto your shoulder. “Are you giving me the silent treatment, pretty girl?” 

There’s a coy smile on your face as you shake your head, once, twice, as your teeth press down on your bottom lip. Max wants nothing more than to release your lip, pull you into his lap and have his way with you, but no. No, because Max is nothing if not disciplined. “Come here,” he asks, straightening up in his place. You, being the ever-loving girlfriend you are, oblige his request. “That is a nice robe,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he grabs the towelette belt with the tips of his finger, “is it as soft as it looks?” 

“Mhm-hm,” you nod, “do you want to feel it?” 

“Do I want to feel it?” Max muses, “Sure.” His arms wrap around your middle so quickly that you don’t realise he’s pulling you into his lap at first. But he positions you with your legs on the either side of his. “You’re right, liefje, it is very soft.” His hands roam on your body over the soft material, but soon enough, his hands dipping underneath it to feel your skin. His eyebrows shoot upwards, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips, “No underwear?” 

“Well, I just came out of the shower, Maxie.” You give him an innocent look, shrugging once against as you rest your hands against his shirt-clad chest. “The shower pressure was great, you should’ve joined me.”  

He lets out a noncommittal hum, his hands roaming on your bare skin, revelling in the softness. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He’s methodical as he slightly shifts you in his lap, tearing a gasp from the back of your throat. That gets a satisfied smile from him, “Something wrong?” 

“N-no,” you mumble, shifting again to get the same feeling, but his hands still you in your place. “Maxie,” you whine, silently pleading with your eyes.  

“Am I being mean again?” He asks, attentive eyes fixed on you, “I would offer to make it up to you with a kiss, but you seem to find ways to evade me when I do.”  

“No,” you whine again, lips pouted in disagreement. “I promise I won’t this time.”  

His eyebrows shoot up again with amusement, “Oh, yeah? Shall we test that theory, pretty girl?” The smile you give him is shy, but the way you nod is nothing short of coy. With a satisfied sound leaving his lips, he quickly presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, immediately, when you feel him deepening the kiss, more than happy to surrender yourself to him and let Max take the lead. Though, that doesn’t necessarily stop you from attempting to relieve the pressure between your legs by rolling your hips against his thighs. Your efforts, however, prove to be useless as he stops the movement before you can actually relieve any of it. He slowly pulls away, pushes a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear and tuts – condescendingly, you might add – “Slow down, liefje, I think I’ve had enough speed for one day.”  

Groaning at his words, “But Maxie,” you whine, dragging out his name as you let your hands wander on his chest over his shirt and receive a warning look from him in return, “I promise I’ll be good, please just fuck me.”  

“Baby,” he coos, his fingers working quickly to unfasten the belt of your robe and push the offending clothing off your shoulders, “I literally just told you to be patient, no?” 

You ignore the raised eyebrow, the look of faux-disappointment, and even the way his fingers grab your waist because you’re too busy trying to get him out of his shirt, suddenly feeling too exposed as you sit on his lap naked. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, peppering kisses across the column of his throat as your hands make their way inside his shirt, “I’ll be patient next time.”  

“I’m suddenly realising that I spoil you very much,” Max mumbles, pulling his head back to get a look at you.  

Pulling back as well you give him a mischievous grin, “Maybe, but you’ll give me what I want this time as well.”  

“Yeah?” He asks, “Why?” 

“Because I think I’m getting your pants very messy right now.”  

Max can’t help the groan that escapes past his lips, his eyes quickly following yours as he takes in the ‘damage’ your wetness has caused on his jeans. He takes a moment to assess the damage, drags his eyes up to look at you when he notices the way your eyes stay fixed down, as your nervously bite down on your lower lip. He loses all the composure he managed to muster up, and he finally gives in, quickly pushing you off him onto the pillows on the bed. The squeal that leaves you is followed by a string of giggles that leave your lips, and when Max looks at you, he takes in the darker look in your widened eyes.  

“I was going to be patient; I can’t believe you’re making me not be patient.” He mumbles, taking off his shirt and the rest of his clothes before starting to leave kisses on your feverish skin as he slides down your body and places himself between your thighs.  

You open your legs wider to accommodate his body, a breathy laugh escaping past your lips. “You mean, impatient?” 

That earns you a nip on your upper thigh and a warning look, but instead of commenting on your quip, he lowers his face, keeps his eyes locked to yours and gets to work. And it’s not that you and Max haven’t done stuff – because it’s the opposite; although you haven’t had sex, it’s safe to say that the two you have explored every option bordering on sex. But how he’s acting right now is much different than the way how he is usually with you. His movements are almost rushed, and the way he drags his tongue through your folds is just enough for your eyes to roll back as your moans fill the room.  

Normally, he would be extra careful and make sure he is being gentle with you; but right now, he’s just trying to savour you before he loses all his composure. A choppy gasp leaves you as you feel his fingers enter you – two at first, and the way he pumps them in and out of you makes breathing harder. The speed of his fingers matches his tongue, and for a moment, you think you’re going to pass out. With his free hand, he blocks any type of movement you try with your hips; his palm sneakily presses down on your lower stomach to keep you in your place, but it’s jokes on him because if anything, it just makes you feel even better, and you’re not shy to let him know just how much he’s making you feel good with your moans.  

“Max,” you say his name in a breathy whimper, fingers threading through his hair to guide him, “fuck, I’m so close.” You can practically feel the way his lips curl up, and suddenly, everything about his actions gets faster. His fingers are pistoning in and out of you in an unforgiving pace, in sync with his tongue that works your clit just the same. So, it’s no surprise when you find yourself coming on his tongue as his name leaves your lips for the umpteenth time like a prayer.

The smirk he gives you when he pulls himself from between your legs is sinful – he looks absolutely debauched with the way his lips glisten with your release, and he wastes no time before coming up, and capturing your lips in yet another bruising kiss. But this time, you taste yourself on his tongue and this time it makes you lose the whatever little resolve you’ve had left. So, you hook your leg around his thigh to push him next to you on the bed as you practically throw him next to you on the bed.  

Though he has other plans.   Of course.  

So, as you’re trying to fight the seventy-kilogram-something driver into staying under you on the bed, he has no problem manhandling you into rolling on your side. And as you’re pressed flush against his chest, you turn your head backwards to breathlessly whisper, “You promised, Max.”  

“And I am a man of my word, aren’t I?” He retorts, his hand that is splayed on your thigh positions it so that it’s bent towards your stomach, “Just needed to get you ready.” You can’t help the guttural moan that escapes you when you feel him pressing the tip of his cock into your entrance. The pleading look you give him must’ve worked, because this time it’s his turn to let out a guttural moan as he pushes himself into you. There is no sign of his mood from mere moments ago as you feel his hands caress your bare hip, an entitled smirk on his lips as he asks, “Out of breath?” 

“Fuck you,” your response comes out as a breathy laugh as you’re pushing your hips closer to his to take him deeper.  

“Lifje, you are fucking me.” Max giggles into the crook of your neck as he pushes himself in fully. You would be furious with him if it didn’t make you laugh also, and although the laughing decrease, the smiles remain on both your faces as he starts slowly moving his hips. 

It’s sweet, unbelievably sweet, considering the sexual tension that was in the room an hour ago, but the way Max is fucking you can only be described as sweet. His hands caress every part of your body that he can reach – your thighs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your chest and then wraps one of his hands around your throat; not in a way that is rough, but in a way that he can still keep you still as he captures your lips for another kiss. The movement of his hips is languid, almost lazy as drive into you, but he still manages to hit all the spots along the way. Breathy chuckles are exchanged when he pulls away for you to organise your breathing, but your smiles still stay on, even when he raises your bent leg and rests his on his own leg. The new angle makes your moans get louder, your hips to move against his faster, and you can feel your orgasm approach speedily.  

But Max is so in tune with your body that he knows what’s coming (or rather who) before you get a chance to actually have to say anything. His hand slides down your body so that he can press his fingers to your clit and move them in tight circles, and as if it was possible, his you can suddenly feel him fucking you even deeper. “You are going to come for me pretty girl, I can feel it.” He murmurs into your skin, and all you can offer as an answer is a nod and an affirmative whimper as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, give it to me, come on my cock.” And though he is not the most verbal person to ever exist, except for when he’s in the mood to be an absolute yapper, his words urge you to let go of the feeling that has been starting to brew in your stomach.  

Your hips start moving to meet his in choppy movements as you seek any and all kinds of pleasure to reach your high, and he meets your every move with increasing intensity of his own. “Max, yes!” Your exclamation hits his ears as he hits that one particular spot, making you instantly become lax in his arms as he guides you through your orgasm. His name spills out from your lips in constant repetition, “So good, so good,” you keep mumbling in breathless whimpers, trying to press yourself further into his body.  

With all things considered, it doesn’t take Max long to reach his own high following your own, since you insistently move your hips in a way that makes you take his cock even deeper when he’s helping you ride your orgasm. So, when you hear him groaning your name in the crook of your neck and feel him spilling himself into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he croaks out, holding your hips in place with his hands splayed on your feverish skin. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 

“How am I supposed to know, dummy?” You ask, throwing your head back to get a good look of his dishevelled state, “Why do you look so good after mind blowing sex?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, pulling you with him as he lets himself fall back on the bed, “genetics?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to find a comfortable position on his chest as he is still inside you, “remind me to send your mother a flower arrangement when we get back, or something.” 

A deep blush covers his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been fucking you for the past hour or so, as he stammers, “I– I mean, yeah.” This time, it’s your turn to give a non-committal hum, followed by a satisfied sigh as you snuggle him closer and close your eyes. “Just go to sleep, baby, we can deal with it in the morning.” 

“’Mkay,” you mumble, feeling his hand draw soothing circles on your back. “But you’re still gonna fuck me tomorrow, right?” 

This gets another loud laugh from the driver laying down under you, and both of you know that he’s going to do just that when you wake up in the morning. 

[haveateadude]

hi there! would you mind writing ellie x reader who are still in a semi-new relationship, but it's the first real relationship reader has ever been in and she's so touch starved & afraid of asking ellie for affection? you can add on whatever you'd like. thank you so much!!

touch starved

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ you're touch starved, but ellie loves cuddling and kissing.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ none, just fluff :)) like, it's so sweet it makes your teeth rot so maybe that's a warning

author notes *. ��� ⋆·˚ to the person who requested this, i hope u like it!!!! i tried my best :)) i haven't gotten a request since i was twelve years old and writing on wattpad, so this is kind of exciting. anyway, love youuuu, hope you're having a wonderful day!! btw sorry this is short and late, life's kicking my ass lately

Ellie and you have been dating for a while, but this doesn't mean you still don't get insecure about some stuff. You've never dated anyone, and dating her—the most perfect woman to ever exist—makes you question if you're doing the right thing sometimes. Like, is it okay if you ask for a hug? Or maybe ask for a kiss? Do people even ask that? Or do they just do it, no questions involved?

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your thighs as you look at Ellie, who's taking pictures of the field you're both having a picnic in. She has her hair up in a half bun, her hands holding the camera, slightly squinting her eyes while she's sitting on her toes. She looks beautiful as you sit next to her, and you can't help but feel a pang of anxiety in your chest.

It's not just anxiety, though. It's a deep, aching need that you can feel in your bones. You've always craved touch, even from a young age. You remember being a kid, sleeping on your childhood bed, hugging your stuffed animals, hoping someone would hug you like that—hoping your mother would come into the room and say nothing but hug you. She never came into the room, though. You would lie there for hours, loneliness your only friend.

Now you've got Ellie, but you don't know how to ask for affection. What if she calls you needy? The fear of rejection creeps through you.

Ellie snaps a picture, then looks at you. Her gaze lingers for a second before she's smiling. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply as she crawls over to you, "I'm just enjoying the view."

"The view is nice," she agrees, setting the camera down, then sitting next to you. She brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, a small gesture that makes your heart skip a beat. "But I like this one better."

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling like you're starved for this type of intimacy as you lean into her hand, her fingers now resting on your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone. You press a kiss into her hand, hoping she doesn't notice how nervous you are. Is this the right time to ask? Well—

"Can I ask you something?" you ask suddenly.

"Of course," she responds, her hand leaving your cheek to rest at your hip. "You can ask me anything."

"Is it okay if I ask for a hug? Or... a kiss?" You cringe at your words as soon as they leave your mouth. You shake your head as you force a laugh, avoiding her eyes. "It's a dumb question, sorry."

"Hey, that's not dumb," she says, taking your chin and gently making you look at her. "It's okay if you want to ask, but you don’t really have to—you can just come up to me and give me a hug. I will hug you back and I won't mind. Same thing with a kiss."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... you're doing great, you know that? With the whole relationship thing, I mean. I love you, and I love having you as my girlfriend, so if you want more, you can just say it."

You smile as she kisses your forehead. "You're the best."

Ellie chuckles, then opens her arms. "C'mere," she says. You lean into her touch as she holds you, her hand rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner. This is the best hug you might've ever gotten. You feel as if your heart is about to burst open from all the love you're feeling now.

"I think I've always wanted this," you admit quietly, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "Ever since I was a kid, I've dreamed of being held like this."

"You're lucky you have me, then. I love holding you like this."

As you sit there in her arms, her words sink into you, and you realize that maybe asking for what you want isn't as scary as you thought it'd be. With Ellie by your side, you feel like you can handle anything. You pull away slightly and press a soft kiss to her lips, feeling the tension melt away as she kisses you back.

When you finally pull away, you see the understanding and love in Ellie's eyes, and it reassures you more than words ever could.

[jammyjen26]

Simon hates commitment. He changes the subject whenever you bring up proposals and marriage. The worst of all, kids.

He doesn’t even wanna imagine being father, scared that he’ll fuck up like his own dad did.

However, today he’s spending the summer with your family in a beach house. He puts your guys’s things in the room you’re assigned.

He goes downstairs and greets your parents and then your siblings, he goes out in the porch and sees you playing with your older sister’s son.

“Aw, you’re so cute.” You coo at the little boy, feeding him his bottle.

He watches with a smile as you play with the baby, wanting one of his own. The longer he watches the more he wants one.

The baby crawling on the floor and calling your sister “mama” and your brother in law “dada”. He wants to experience it with you.

Later that night, as you guys are climbing in bed.

“Love, we need to talk.” He says as he pulls you onto his lap

“About what? Is something wrong?” You tilt your head in confusion, getting comfortable in his lap.

“I..want to have kids with you..” He says, staring into your eyes. His thumbs rubbing circles on your hips.

“What brought this on? Thought you didn’t want any?” You say surprised with a small smile on your lips.

“I see the way you look at your sister’s kid, you look cute. I want to experience that with you.” He nuzzles his face in your neck

You hum and run your hand through his hair. “After marriage.” You whisper, kissing his cheek.

“Yeah..after marriage.” He looks up and kisses you slowly, as if time stopped.

“I love you..” You say with a yawn as you pull away

“Love you too, lovie.” He smiles and lays you down on the bed, pulling you into his chest and turning the lamp off.

[dragon-ascent]

Zhongli watches you emerge from the bathroom dramatically - and laughs when he sees how you've draped your white towels to match the robes of Rex Lapis statues.

"You dare laugh, mortal one?" you boom, waddling over to him and slamming a hand against the wall. You had intended to pin him against the wall sexily, but the difference in height and demeanor – his amused and yours a little playful – just makes the whole thing look silly.

"Forgive me," says your husband with a soft chuckle.

"I am Rex Lapis! And I am here to...to do...stuff!"

“How intriguing,” muses Zhongli with a smile. “May this ‘stuff’ of yours yield fruitful results, my lord.”

You huff in what is supposed to be an intimidating manner, strutting over to the other side of the room. "Come, sit on my lap, dear mortal," you command, sitting down and patting your lap.

Zhongli, smug, wastes no time in sinking his weight onto you.

"Oof. Err, I shall use your lap as a throne! Yes! Let me sit on your lap instead."

"As you wish." Your husband doesn't wipe that smug look off his face as he sits down, gently pulling you onto his lap. "Is this better suited, my lord?"

Sinking into his embrace easily, you sigh in delight. "Oh, absolutely. This is perfect, mortal. You have greatly pleased me."

He squeezes you lovingly. "A thousand appreciations."

You puff your chest out importantly. "As a reward, feel free to ask me for whatever you heart desires."

Smiling softly, Zhongli mulls it over. "How about a nice, warm embrace? One that lasts five minutes at least."

You hug him tight. "Granted." Your arms wrap around him, and you feel him nuzzle you in contentment. All seems peaceful and well.

Except, he's squeezing you in all the right places - and your towel is coming loose.

“My towel - I mean, my robe is slipping!”

“Oh?” Zhongli raises an eyebrow. “So it is.”

“I must adjust it!”

“So it seems.”

“So let me go!”

Zhongli smiles into your skin. “I had requested an embrace that would last five minutes at minimum. It has hardly been a minute. And as the God of Contracts, surely you must keep to your word, yes?”

“Fuuuuck!”

“Such language from a god, oh dear,” tuts Zhongli, grinning.

This might just be the last time you ever roleplay as your dear old archon.

[euno11a]

nap time is the best

Having the window open as your bodies are pressed together with only a thin sheet covering each other. Simon resting his head on your chest as you lazily give him head scratches - debatably the best part of it all. The sound of the rain pattering on your bedroom window making you both sleepy.

the time being filled with soft kisses to each others lips and random naps, Simon falling asleep and you pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head while taking some picture of him to add to your hidden album in your phone…

as you fall asleep, Simon litters little kisses on your chest and whispers about how a big brute like him doesn’t deserve the love you give him. But he could never figure out how even in your sleep you could figure out he was talking bad about himself, your arms wrapping around him as you nuzzle into the top of his head.

the sloppy kisses. Having you propped up on him as you lazily kiss each other, not caring that either of your tongues are basically missing each other and just aiming everywhere else except there.

but the one thing that kills me - Simon can’t help but to hum “You Are My Sunshine” to you as you fall asleep. His low voice rumbling in your ear as he rocks you gently, reminding you that your his light that gets him through a tough day at work, or through a nightmare, or a reminder of what he was blessed with to come home to.

safe to say Simon “Ghost” Riley loves nap time.

[dylsluvrs]

BRACELET

in which derek and emily make it their mission to make spencer blush.

warnings/tags: fem!reader, fluff, spencer being teased relentlessly by morgan and prentiss, established relationship.

a/n: my second blurb post awh. this one’s a little different, reader will be mentioned but not actually present for it!

The sun had barely risen when you felt the soft kiss of Spencer’s lips on your cheek, before seeing his silhouette slip out the door.

Spencer sat silently at the round table, eyes glued in front of him, pixelated bodies littering the screen before them. “Wheels up in thirty.” He sent you a quick text, a reassurance that he wouldn’t be home for a few days. The jet felt more stifling than usual, Derek and Emily seated across from him. Spencer toyed with the small braided bracelet on his wrist, tugging at the loose strands.

“Hey, pretty boy. I haven’t seen that before.” Spencer’s eyes lifted to meet Morgan’s, before flitting back down to his wrist. Emily’s interest had been piqued, her eyes now also glued to the dainty bracelet. “Yeah when did you get—oh my god, Spencer has a girlfriend!” Emily’s eyes were wide as she looked at Spencer, who’s cheeks had now become a soft rosy colour. “How did a bracelet help you come to that conclusion?” His valiant efforts to academically beat Emily would fall short, with Morgan now more involved in his love life than ever.

“Well, Dr Reid, statistically, that bracelet looks to be homemade as the strands are loose and slightly messy, the string is bright which suggests it’s new, and you’d never buy that yourself. Bam!” Derek chuckles from beside her, imitating a mic drop as the heat from Spencer’s cheeks spread to his ears.

“She’s got you there, pretty ricky. What’s her name?” The two were leaning forward now, practically peering into the good doctor’s soul. “That’s none of your business.” His voice came out in a high pitched squeak, which only caused the two across from him to laugh harder.

“Okay, lover. Didn’t know you had game like that.” The smile on Derek’s face was genuine now, but Emily had failed to stop laughing. “I’m sorry—you should bring her out, Spence, we need more girls around here.”

“She must be pretty special if she’s got your attention.” Spencer was smiling now, rose tinted glasses perched perfectly on his nose.

“She is.”

[frickingnerd]

dating katsuki bakugou

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, established relationship, petnames, mentions of the bakusquad, clingy & overprotective katsuki

katsuki didn't have any dating experience before he started dating you, yet he likes to pretend he had tons of partners before you and has the know-how to be the best boyfriend ever!

katsuki fell in love with you fairly quickly, but it took him months of denial and pinning, before he could admit to himself that he liked you!

katsuki is awful at expressing his feelings, which results in him either becoming quiet and flustered or straight up bullying you! he only works in extremes

he would probably be even more of an asshole to you, just to not seem soft and make others realize he is in love with you

but he'd also be very protective! he'd always be ready to protect you, whether it's during combat or in your everyday life

katsuki would literally die for you in a heartbeat! he's a reckless hothead and cares much more about you than he cares about himself!

despite not showing it, katsuki thinks you might be too good for him! whenever he allows himself to be soft with you, he wonders how he even deserved someone as precious as you!

katsuki is secretly really clingy! he tries to be around you at all times, but will act as if he's not doing it on purpose! only when you're truly alone does he allow himself to literally cling to you, arms wrapped around you and cuddling with you whenever he gets the chance

his clinginess also shows when katsuki gets jealous! he's a jealous person, so he quickly gets over protective and possessive when someone flirts with you, putting an arm around you and holding you close to show who you belong to!

it's especially bad when it's someone like midoriya or shoto, who he already sees as a rival! to those two, he'll brag about you all the time, trying to make them jealous, as he suspects they might be jealous of him already, for dating someone as great as you!

katsuki loves to give you nicknames! they range from derogatory ones like “dumbass” or “idiot” to sweet ones like “babe”, “prince/ss” or “teddy bear”! but he'll only use those sweet nicknames when you two are alone, as he has his tough guy image to keep up!

katsuki's friends love you a lot and have been rooting for the two of you to get together for a while! after you start dating, they immediately want to become friends with you and always drag you along to movie nights or training sessions with the guys!

as for dates with bakugou, he likes to cook for you or take you out to dinner! he's a simple guy and likes to treat you to good food! he might even teach you how to cook, if he finds out you're not good at it!

as for katsuki's mother mitsuki, she absolutely loves you as well! she can see that you ground katsuki and make him a better person, while genuinely caring about him and she's just waiting for katsuki to finally put a ring on you!

[illusionsdelusions101]

Stream Princess Saviour~ Lando Norris

A/N- I'm back from my casket people. And what is this? A LANDO NORRIS FANFIC!? Goodness, sound the bells, call your mothers! (I'm not funny) anyways enjoy <3

Type~ Fluff

Lando went back to streaming. Good news, right? Wrong. You could hear his high pitched little giggles from down the hall. You decided to watch the stream, oh boy that was a big mistake.

As soon as you clicked onto his stream you immediately noticed the huge whiskey bottle sat next to him, his lips looked wet, seeming as he just took a swing of the bottle.

"Guys! guys.. guys.. guys.. guys..." He yelped and then started whispering into the mic. "Do you wanna know where Carlos is going?" He smirks. Well this can't end well. The chat was flashing answers of yes and of course and all sorts of agreement. "I'll tell you... I'll tell you..." He says, slurring his words.

You get up and quickly rush into the room where his PC was. You grab the back of his chair and pull it away from the set up, the wheels of the chair squeaking a bit. "Right, stream's over." You say, clicking around his monitor, searching for the end stream button.

"What!? Babe, no no no no! I was gonna tell them something REALLYYYY important!" He whines and scoots his chair behind you, grabbing your waist. "Say bye to the stream Lando." You say, as you finally locate the button. "Bye bye... Also! Carlos is going to-!"

Stream ended.

You exited out of his tabs and turn around to look at him. "Really? You are a PR's worst nightmare when you stream." You grab the bottle of alcohol. "And especially, with this." You put it down again. "Baby pleaseee.... I wanna stream!!!!" He pouts, rubbing your sides up and down. "No." You cross your arms.

He pulls you onto his lap, your legs on his sides, straddling his lap. "Please..." He buries his head into the crook of your neck and fake sobs. You roll your eyes and catch a whiff of his strong whisky breath. "Ew. Babe your breath smells. go brush your teeth and join me in bed." You climb off his lap and walk out of the room, hearing a faint sigh and a "yes ma'am." which makes your smirk.

You feel a dip in the bed and look to your side to find Lando, faceplanted in his side of the bed. "Sobering up yet?" You turn your attention back to the book you were reading. You hear a muffled, "A bit" from Lando. He turns his head to face you and he quickly sits up and takes the book out of your hand. "Hey!" You pout but he ignores you. He puts it on your nightstand and turns off the lights. He big spoons you and nuzzles his head into your neck.

"How do you put up with me?" He says. "I'm on the brink of letting go." You laugh. "Don't say that!" He blows a raspberry on your neck, making you squirm and squeal. After more raspberries and giggles, it quiets down.

"Thank you for ending the stream honey, I would have been in so much trouble." He smiles. "Your welcome sweetheart, now get to bed."

Where would Lando be if he hadn't had his Stream Princess Saviour?

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff drabble no3. gojo as a cat dad

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ drabble summary. gojo tried to give you a little kitten as an apology, but you weren’t able to take it in, so he ends up becoming a cat dad. (note: for new readers, this is in continuation of my long fic gojo x reader series “kickoff”!! masterlist is linked below)

ᰔ main storyline summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. drabble #3

ᰔ words. 2.3k

a/n. hellooo!! this is such a silly little drabble lol, basically just gojo falling in love w a kitty. kickoff reader does make an appearance tho haha. this will be the last drabble before we move on to ch11 :) hope u enjoy!! <3

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

“Wait what? He’s gotta get his balls chopped off someday?”

Gojo holds the tuxedo kitten, which as of two seconds ago is now officially his and shall be named mr. grand theft auto (mr gta for short) up into the air as he examines him like he’s some novel beast.

“Yes,” Nanami affirms on the other line before releasing a deep exhale, “at around ten weeks old, you’ll have to get him neutered.”

“How do I know how old he is?” Gojo asks, twiddling his thumb back and forth to give mr gta something to chase with his paws in an attempt to distract.

“You’ll have to take the kitten to the vet,” Nanami tells him. “They’ll need to check for fleas, parasites, and give any relevant vaccinations.”

Gojo scratches the back of his head and sets mr gta down on his desk, which the Soot Sprite runs to the edge of and almost knocks over Gojo’s half-finished can of Red Bull. Gojo picks him up again, and he hears a tiny little mew squeak out.

“Did you check with Suguru or Hide or Sota if they would be fine with keeping a cat in the house?” Nanami asks.

“No.”

“That’s the first thing you should do.”

“Ehhh I’m sure they’d be fine with it,” Gojo replies before settling mr. gta into the nook of his elbow and then grabbing his keys. He pets his pocket for his wallet, and then heads out of his room, down the stairs, and outside to the driveway to get inside his car. He plops Fluff Ball onto his dashboard, and then realizes he’s still got Nanami on the line.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he brings his phone back up to his ear, “did you say something.”

A long pause. “I’ve been giving you instructions this entire time.”

Nanami apparently had three cats growing up, it was one of the first things Gojo learned about him during some Icebreakers for Rush. But his knowledge is wasted on Gojo, who’s more keen on winging most things in life.

“Where did you find this kitten?” Nanami asks.

“In the bushes,” Gojo says as he pulls out of the driveway, “over on Main street. Took the scenic route on my run this morning.”

“And why decide to keep it?”

Gojo pulls his phone from his ear to check the directions on his phone for a brief second, a little too lazy to connect BlueTooth to his car for a seven minute drive. “Uh. Well, I tried to give it to y/n, but she didn’t want it. Er, she couldn’t have it, so, I figured I’d keep it.” He glances between his rearview mirror and mr. gta as he turns onto the street. “The little thing’s homeless and cute, so why not. Also kinda ugly, though. His fur looks like he’s been struck by lightning.”

Nanami sighs, then catches his breath briefly. “You found a dirty flea-covered kitten in the bushes and then tried to abandon it with y/n when she can’t even have it, and then abruptly decided you’ll take care of it? I would encourage some self reflection.”

Gojo gets to the closest veterinarian office he could find, mr gta in hand when he walks through the door with the jingle of a bell at the top, which his kitten becomes instantly intrigued with as it tilts its head up to the noise.

“Hi,” Gojo says as he approaches the receptionist desk, where he sees a girl probably around his age wearing bright blue scrubs sitting there at a catastrophically messy desk cluttered with pens and clipboards and certainly not enough space for the gigantic keyboard underneath the computer.

She looks up from her computer at Gojo, and blinks a few times in surprise before addressing him. Gojo wonders if she’s new to the job. “Hello! Name for the appointment?”

“Oh, I don’t have an appointment,” Gojo says, setting mr gta up on the high raised counter, and he feels the fur of his tiny tail brush against his hand before a tiny rough tongue starts to lick at his knuckle. “I found this kitten in the bushes, so I just wanted someone to take a look at him. Or her? I’m, like, 90% sure it’s a boy, but you guys are the experts.”

Crescents form under her eyes in amusement before she flutters her eyes back to the computer screen. “Sorry, we don’t take walk-ins,” she says as she busies herself with clicking sporadically across pixels that he can’t see.

“Can’t make an exception?” Gojo asks, setting his elbow up on the counter and mr gta instantly starts scratching at his skin. He watches her expression change from business to something else before pushing away from the desk, chair springing when she gets up from it.

“I can check with the doctor for you!” she chirps and disappears into the hallway. Gojo looks down at mr gta, who’s staring off in the direction she went before he starts licking his paw.

The vet makes an exception, but not without a twenty minute wait. Gojo briefly wonders what being a veterinarian would be like, getting to hold tiny cute kittens like mr gta—who, by the way, is indeed a mister—all day. But, he figures there’s probably downsides to it too, since not all their patients are probably as sweet as mr gta is when he gets his shots. Cute thing just winces a little from the needle then chirps a drawled meow before shaking his head and wobbling right back into Gojo’s hands at the edge of the metal table. God, Gojo was attached. It hasn’t even been three hours, and he’d already jump in front of an active shooter just to protect the little Black Ball with Mittens.

Well, some of the love diminishes when he realizes just how damn expensive the vet visit cost as the receptionist from earlier adds up services on her dated calculator with punches of her index finger on worn out buttons. Gojo pulls his wallet out of his pocket and hands her his credit card, and even though it’s just the plastic equivalent of cash, he still feels like it’s much lighter somehow when she hands it back to him. She prints out the receipt, licking her thumb to separate the customer copy from the office’s copy and hands the latter to him to sign. The puff ball tied at the end of the pen intrigues mr gta who swats his paw at it while Gojo makes quick work of his signature and hands it over the counter. He’s about to turn on his heel to head out the door in no need of the customer copy, when the receptionist squeaks out a wait and scribbles something onto it before handing it to him. He glances down at the ballpoint blue ink. The total that he paid in written out words, a large circle drawn around a free future check-up coupon, and beneath it, a phone number with a heart next to it. He finally clocks in on the flirting.

His now healthy kitten is captivated by the noise of the bell above the door again when Gojo makes his way through it, and then captivated by the sound of plastic paper crumpling in his hand when he tosses the receipt into a trash can outside of receptionist desk view. It’s not like he needed it, he can’t return vaccines.

“So you’re cool with it?’ Gojo asks, Suguru on the other line since he wasn’t home and he was the last one of his housemates he had to check with if keeping mr gta was alright or not. Not that Gojo would drop the little guy off at a shelter if one of the guys did say they didn’t want a cat in the house. He’d sooner drop one of his housemates off at the shelter than get rid of mr gta.

Suguru sighs through the receiver. “I guess it’s fine as long as you take care of it…but it’s weird, you’ve never cared much for cats?”

Gojo’s eyes flicker across the ceiling of his room as he lays on his bed, swinging his knee back and forth before adjusting his hand under his neck to get more comfortable. His gaze then flits down to mr gta, who is roaming the expanse of his chest and plucking at the fabric of Gojo’s shirt with every step he takes across it. Purring like a maniac where the sound is probably loud enough to interrupt Nanami’s wim hof breathing meditation exercises three houses down from here.

Gojo pulls the phone away from his ear and tucks his chin to look mr gta straight in the eye. “Dude. Could you keep it down? I’m on the phone.”

Electrocuted Puff Ball just stares at him and mews in defiance before using its hind leg to scratch behind its ear, then settles its head down on the center of Gojo’s chest, the rumble of purrs felt on his sternum.

Gojo brings the phone back to his ear. He considers how to answer Suguru, thinking can’t let the gang know I fw cute cats all of a sudden so instead he says— “I don’t know. It’s probably the cat parasite.”

“The what?” Suguru asks.

Gojo scratches the top of mr gta’s head as he puts Suguru on speaker then peruses a WikiHow article on his phone on how to care for babies. Apparently, skin to skin contact is very important, so he shoves mr gta underneath the fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, something about a parasite from cats that can infect humans and basically make us fall in love with them as some sort of survival strategy. I read about it on the mews—er, news. Mews? What the fuck. I just said mews instead of news. See?? It’s the fuckin’ cat parasite.”

He hears Suguru sigh. “Aight. Whatever floats your boat, dude.”

Gojo’s phone pings with a text notification, and when he sees your name flash across his screen, his eyes widen. “Uh, gotta go. See ya at home. Don’t forget the cat food.” And then he hangs up. Because he can’t talk to you and concentrate on anything else at the same time.

He sits up, catching mr gta when he falls towards his lap in the motion, and then he perches himself up on an elbow to read your texts.

|| 10:24am You: hi, sorry for kicking you out earlier today

|| 10:24am You: i was just a little sad about the kitty :(

He sees you typing, before the bubble disappears. He holds his breath. And then he sees you typing again.

|| 10:26am You: i’m on my period, so im’ a little emotional

Gojo blinks at his screen. Then his thumbs move to type.

|| 10:28am Gojo Satoru: Oh

He scans his brain for the right thing to say.

|| 10:29am Gojo Satoru: Are you doing okay? Do you need Ibuprofen

He feels mr gta’s warm little body press against his torso.

|| 10:30 Gojo Satoru: Or a heating pad?

Nailed it.

|| 10:32am You: aw no i’m ok!! thanks though :))

|| 10:32am You: did you keep the kitty?

His eyes flicker down to mr gta, who has fully fallen asleep in his lap. Dumb little thing. Doesn’t even know pythagoras’s theorum, or anything about the Roman Empire. Only knows warmth and whiskers. But if anything bad ever happened to mr gta, Gojo would probably end up in jail for the revenge he wreaks havoc on the perpetrators.

|| 10:24am Gojo Satoru: I did, yeah. Victim of the cat parasite

|| 10:26am You: cat parasite??

|| 10:26am You: what’s that

|| 10:28am Gojo Satoru: Some parasite that makes people like cats

|| 10:29am Gojo Satoru: [sent an article]

|| 10:29am Gojo Satoru: Saw it on the news

|| 10:31am You: don’t you mean

|| 10:31am You: the mews

|| 10:31am You: haha get it

|| 10:31am You: because of mew

He blinks at his phone screen, and then his lips purse. The cuteness aggression he has felt today is enough to kill a grown man, and he has to set his phone down to deal with the wide grin that spreads across his face from your messages. He rubs a hand across his mouth and over his jaw, to ease the sore to the cheeks of his muscles from the way he can’t help the stupid way he’s cheesing over you, and it’s almost embarrassing if it didn’t make his heart beat fast in his chest in the same flush way he feels at the end of a good run or an exciting soccer match.

And while he tries to contain his face despite the lack of any witnesses, except for the kitten curled up in his lap, he realizes it’s been minutes since he responded to you.

He falls back onto the bed, head hitting the pillow while he sets his hand holding his phone down on his chest to read your message. Mr gta crawls up from his lap to sit in front of his phone screen, and Gojo has to tilt his head to look past the obstructing view of his wispy floofy tail.

|| 10:35am you: sorry. was that lame :(

Mr gta meows incessantly at the phone as if in response to you. “Yeahhh I know. She’s really cute, isn’t she.” And then Gojo scratches behind his pointy little ear with his index finger. Mr gta entirely leans into the sensation, purring loudly almost on command before he’s meowing again in a tiny voice.

Mr gta reaches his paw out, pressing it against the bright screen of Gojo’s phone, typing nonsensical letters because he doesn’t know the English lexicon, or any lexicon for that matter other than purr and meow and hiss.

Gojo thinks nothing of it, until his paw accidentally presses the blue send button.

|| 10:37am Gojo Satoru: sjhdfhh

|| 10:38am You: huh?

|| 10:39am Gojo Satoru: Sorry

|| 10:39am Gojo Satoru: That was the cat

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyeeddd lol gojo as a cat dad was not in my plans for kickoff at all but this was fun to write alskdjdh i want a lil kitty so baaaaad </3 anywho, like i mentioned, this will be the last drabble from ch10 haha we shall move on to ch11 now 😼 but there will def be more mr gta appearances in kickoff bc that’s gojo’s lil baby now :”) thanks sm for reading!! love u guys

taglist: @megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@erencvlt @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle

@luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress @tsukikourito

@getitsatoru @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @btszn

@izayas-rings @semra4 @ethereally-lyann @bbyxxm @fvsm4x

@sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @banenemilk

@nanasukii28 @spindyl @ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri

@v4mpieres @teramisuyhin @ritsatoru @megumisthirdog @sakui1

@angelicscribe @bloopsstuff @tetsuski @oh-dude @pickuptruck01

note: please send me an ask if your taglist preferences change at any time!!

[natti-ice]

Being comforted on your period.

cw: menstrual cramps, just periods in general

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Your lower belly has been spasming all day and it’s made you so miserable, it feels like your body is trying to fight itself as you toss and turn on the couch desperate to get comfortable. When he walks into the room and sees you laying there in pain his heart begins to ache, he knew how bad it got every month and it killed him. If he could take away your pain he would do it in a heart beat, but unfortunately he cannot, so he has to settle for the next best thing. He immediately goes to get the heating pad, when he comes back he doesn’t say a word he just plugs in the heating pad and puts it on the setting you like. He kneels down beside you and says softly “lift up your shirt for me, baby.” You give him a soft appreciative smile and lift your shirt, you let out a soft relieved sigh as you feel the warmth on your skin. You were so grateful to have a man who truly cared for you.

[instaspacenoodles]

✧₊⊹𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐧

a couple of light fluffy headcanons for Jiyan because I’m having brain rot for him

Jiyan doesn’t do much PDA, but he can get the urge to be clingy sometimes in public. He gets a bit embarrassed when he can’t resist - either intertwining his hands with yours as you walk or holding your waist when the crowd gets too busy. When you get to the privacy of your home, he allows himself to finally embrace you or lay his head in your lap. You, of course, are always ready to indulge him

Jiyan is a morning person much to your dismay. He’s used to rising early in the morning due to his previous experience being a doctor and now the general of the midnight rangers. Some days he would leave you in bed to go complete his morning routine while others he would stay a little longer in bed to gaze at your cute, sleeping face. Though, no matter what he chooses, you always find breakfast ready in the morning for you. 

Jiyan makes time to write letters for you whenever he’s away on the battlefield. He would share his inner thoughts, his concerns, and his wishes for your wellbeing. In some, he would even send some dried, pressed flowers he had previously prepared. It was not much, but he hoped you would cherish his gifts anyway. He always ends his letters with a promise to come home as soon as he can with a special present for you. 

Jiyan’s favorite place to kiss you (after your lips of course) would be your forehead. He didn’t remember how it started, but he had gotten used to brushing your hair away to press his lips against your forehead. Every time he wakes up, he kisses your forehead. Every time he catches you daydreaming, he would do it while checking up on you. Every time after making love, he would pepper your forehead with gentle ones. If there was an opportunity, he would do it like clockwork. 

Jiyan would let you play with his hair most times that you ask. It was a gesture he enjoys greatly and misses when he’s away on the battlefield. There’s nothing as relaxing as letting you run your fingers through his loose hair. Especially, when your nails would scratch his scalp in just the right way- utter bliss. His eyes would flutter close as he quietly listened to you blab about your day, sometimes even dozing off from your soothing voice. 

Jiyan gets flustered whenever you kiss his tacet mark. He doesn’t know whether it’s a blessing or curse that it’s located on his upper back. He just knows that you occasionally take advantage of its placement. You like to sneak up behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle and placing your lips on the dark mark. He takes in a shuttered breath and momentarily pauses in what he’s doing before continuing. Jiyan would try to keep his focus, ignoring the feeling of soft kisses on his skin yet to no avail. You smile when you glance up to see his ears burning red and the general refusing to turn around. Oh well, more back kisses for him. 

[ilovejoostklein]

i would love a best friends to lovers scenario. Like joost and reader are best friends for years and they are now developing feelings. Reader isn't dutch but german or something else and they teach each other their language. Like imagine joost teaching her dutch. And Please a lot of cheesy fluff. Thank you🥹

sorry for taking a while, i wanted to try to get the dutch as accurate as possible ❤️

-

How Do You Say ‘I Love You’

You and Joost are childhood friends. After high school, you moved away from the Netherlands and since have been living in the south of France, but he’s always been bad at dealing with your absense

sfw: fluff, friends to lovers, so much fluff

-

When high school ended and you went off for university, Joost felt like a piece of him had been left vacant. His heart ached during the fall and spring months when you were away in France teaching private English lessons and being a nanny to spoiled little French kids for half the year. The family you worked for always rubbed him the wrong way, but he didn’t realize why until he saw you again.

It was the beginning of summer, the family wanted you to postpone your month-long trip to the Netherlands, the country where you’d spent most of your adolescence and left all your loved ones behind. When you’d told Joost that you wouldn’t be back for another month, he’d gotten so upset and impatient that he booked a ticket the second he got your text and showed up unannounced.

You remembered how mortified you were when you were awoken by the two children, Max and Lucas, you looked after, delirious from sleep hearing them ramble about a strange, tall man with blonde hair who spoke poor French at their door. You hardly heard the morning birds, the sky still had hues of deep, navy blue, and the sun still under sheets of clouds, it was a criminal that you were being disturbed this early.

You remembered even more so the moment you looked through the peephole and felt your stomach turn. Your body was freezing already from being out of the warm bed, but his presence alone paralyzed you with it. You watched the distorted image of his nervous expression and body language, how he looked over his shoulder constantly and tapped his foot. He held one suitcase in his hand and wore an overstuffed backpack. His hair was a lot blonder than the last time you saw him, and he grew a mustache. This wasn’t the man you’d seen last year, and it certainly wasn’t the boy you were inseparable from in school who you watched YouTube and played video games with. 

“Joost?” You rasped, still feeling the aura of sleep, the situation itself made you like you were dreaming without the fatigue. 

“Yes.” He answered. “Please let me in.” He said curtly. 

You frantically unlocked the door and practically jumped into his arms, hugging him as tightly as you could. The smell of his shampoo was overwhelming, bringing you back to when you were in his bedroom, just turned 13 and entering your scary teenage years. He’d always shower after school before you came over, he made it a habit as he liked to play football with the other boys after school and come home tracking dirt and mud in the house. You missed his parents’ voices scolding him for always forgetting to take his shoes off. The smell of apple in his hair brought you back to that beautiful memory. It hurt to let go.

“Missed you.” You mumbled, holding back the tears of the overwhelming happiness to see your friend again. “Don’t forget to take off your shoes.” 

“C’est ton petit compain?” One of the boys teased you, prompting you to playfully push the giggling kids away into the kitchen. 

“Vas t’en.” You scolded lightly. “Go to the kitchen.”

Joost chuckled, the sight of you with the boys always warmed his heart. He’d only met the kids a handful of times since whenever you two would reunite it would be in the Netherlands. They treated him awkwardly, but it was an infectious happiness, the domestic, comforting feeling of it to see you so caring and motherly. He felt at home with you all the time, and your sweet nature had soothed him for as long as he knew you. Even in the south of France, jet-lagged and nervous he felt happy with you. 

“I’ll start making breakfast.” You said, quickly grabbing the apron and putting it over your pajamas he could tell this was a well-established, chaotic routine. “Do you want tea or coffee?”

“Koffie.” Joost exaggerated his choice of Dutch, encouraging you to roll your eyes. “Alstublieft”

You felt a bit bad that your Dutch was severely lacking despite living in the Netherlands for five years. It was honestly kind of embarrassing, especially for someone who taught a language for a living. You understood enough to finish primary school and talk to friends, but completely stopped practicing once you returned to France, and it’s only deteriorated since. Joost was disappointed, to say the least, but he enjoyed having something to tease you over. 

“I’ll be here for two weeks, by the way.” He began, “You’ll speak perfect Dutch once I’m gone, so you’ll be really to come back to the Netherlands.”

You scoffed, “Why do I have to learn Dutch but you don’t have to learn French?”

He only chuckled in response as you prepared his coffee the way he always liked, hot, one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk. He’d been drinking it that way since you started high school together. Every morning, in fact, a steaming hot coffee, usually the shitty kind that was somehow always bitter no matter how much sugar you put in there. It was unsurprising that he loved cigarettes so much. 

“I’ll learn French, why not.” He said, smiling as he took the steaming mug from you. “Dank je.” He thanked you sweetly. 

“Merçi.” You corrected, “Omelette ou pain et fromage mes petits choux?” You asked the boys.

“Pain et fromage.” The two boys answered loudly in unison, clearly hungry and impatient. 

“Pain et fromage.” Joost added in his broken accent, “Alstublieft.” His answer in Dutch sent the boys into a giggling fit. 

You couldn’t help but sigh and laugh, internally relieved that you wouldn’t have to go fight the chickens for their eggs, a sight that would’ve certainly amused Joost, and could quickly cut up some of the bread you’d baked last night and cheese made from one of the local farmers. You were glad that as tired as he was, you’d at least be able to get him some good food.

You set the table, laying out a few choices of jam, cut-up fruits, and a little bit of butter. The boys drank their cups of juice and ate their breakfast happily, excitedly telling Joost about their today’s plans, a trip to the beach with the neighbor’s family and their youngest son.

“Are you boys good swimmers?” Joost asked them, his smile big and overpowering all his features, it was your favorite thing about him. 

“Yes.” The youngest answered, Max, “Ma nounou is a very bad swimmer.” He always had to be brutally honest. 

“She’s ok.” Lucas defended, sweetly handing you half of his mandarin when he noticed that you didn’t take any fruit. “We need to be ready in one hour.” He informed Joost quite seriously, the little kid a stickler for rules.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Joost assured him, taking the empty plates for you to the sink once he was finished eating. “Why don’t you help me with the dishes and give your nounou a break, hm?” 

The boys exchanged irritated glances, making a silent agreement between themselves to not embarrass you or themselves in front of their guest. They dragged their feet to the sink, helping Joost clear off the table and wash the dishes as promised, giving you a moment to sneak away to get ready. 

“How long have you known nounou?” Lucas asked, hearing the shower upstairs and knowing he was allowed to speak freely now. “We don’t know a lot about you.” 

“Oh,” Joost huffed, instantly taken back to the same place you went when you saw him at the door. “Seventeen years, we met when we were twelve.”

The boys made a sound of astonishment, the concept of someone being friends for longer than they had been alive was a concept difficult to grasp but made them more inclined to like Joost instead of just seeing him as a stranger in their home. He understood, you were the closest thing to their mother and you’d been with them since they were born, essentially making them family. He needed to make a good impression. 

“That’s a long time.” Max, being only ten, this was especially shocking. “Do you love her?”

Joost felt his cheeks burn, the lack of filters that kids had was something he could never get used to. He could only imagine how crazy this one drove you. 

“Yes, I love her,” Joost answered, carefully stacking the expensive glass plates, plain as they were the few of them cost probably as much as his shoes. “She’s a good friend.” 

The boys decided it wasn’t a satisfactory response, and to continue to interrogate him with questions. Naturally, they had to find out if he was good enough for you. 

“You love her or you like her?” Lucas asked his tone still so serious Joost began to get intimidated by the little French kid still in his pajamas. 

He heard the shower had stopped for a while, but knowing you, you were probably still overthinking what to wear or were taking a few minutes just to sit in the bathroom wrapped in your towel. He knew you too well, all the tiniest most negligible parts of you he memorized like it was his favorite song. He would play over and over in his head the things that you’d do, how your nose scrunched up when you laughed, how you rolled your eyes every time he corrected your Dutch. 

“I do love her,” Joost admitted quietly, making his way to the living room. It was bigger than he remembered, a bit renovated, and kept impeccably neat, he wondered if they’d finally hired a housekeeper. “Kids, did your parents ever hire more help?” 

Lucas shook his head, “Non.” He answered a bit sadly. “Maman says we don’t need more than a nanny.”

Joost simply nodded, thinking about the first and seemingly last time he met the boys’ parents. They were tall, stone-faced Parisian lawyers who wanted an escape from the city for their children, or rather from them, prompting them to buy the biggest house on the little hill in a southern French village. It was completely idyllic, but without you, he felt that they’d leave this beautiful home completely soulless. 

“You kids should get ready.” Joost glanced at the clock, dreading when he would have to rummage through his bag to find swimming trunks and his sandals. 

He found one of the many guest rooms and adopted it as his own for now. After making a proper mess of his clothes, he finally found his brightly colored blue trunks and flip-flops. He was the kind of person who liked wearing sneakers to the beach, but you never failed to give him a lecture about messing up your shoes with the sand, so he decided to be on your good side today. 

Every time Joost reunited with you, somehow you’d changed completely for the better. You were more beautiful than the last time he saw you, softer, your presence feeling almost regal. He always wondered how you always looked so put together, how you always could calm or fix a situation. He saw you through rose-tinted glasses, but it never felt like an illusion.

“You look nice.” Joost complimented, taking the beach bags you’d packed from your hand and slinging it over his shoulder. “Are we walking?”

You nodded, “It’s fifteen minutes to the spot we go to.” You said, looking at him with a bit of excitement. “There’s a lot of shops and nice restaurants closer to that area.” 

Eventually, the kids ran into their friend while walking, catching up with him and his parents and walking ahead, leaving you and Joost trailing behind. 

“They were so tiny the last time I saw them.” He said, remembering how shy and reserved they were just a few years ago. 

“Don’t remind me.” You said, watching the boys as they talked and joked with their friends. “I can’t believe we used to be that little.”

Joost turned to look at you, taking in all your beautiful features, returning once again to those old memories that made him happiest. As you two walked, the crashing waves and the fresh saltiness cleared his senses and washed away his apprehensions. It brought him back to the time he realized he loved you. 

It was also on a French beach. You’d just completed your first year of university, enjoying the summer break, getting a new job as a nanny, and Joost came down to congratulate you. The two of you lay on the warm sand for hours, fingers grazing each other’s stomachs hurting and cheeks aching from laughing so much. He wanted to blame it on the fact that you’d packed a cooler full of sandwiches and alcohol, or that you’d been wearing a white bathing suit, and the sunset was one of the most beautiful and vibrant he’d seen, shining golden light against your skin. The scene was romantic, he had a bit too much to drink and he thought he was just confused. 

He wished he told you then. The feeling only grew steadily over time, like seeds he’d planted his love for you slowly grew. He was thankful it was slow, the distance keeping his feeling muted and controlled as he didn’t have to face you every day, and your friendship surviving over texting and calls. Even then, he would reread all your texts, and stare at the pictures you’d send at random points of the day. It became like a ritual, every day before bed, when he woke up, if he was having a particularly bad day seeing your smiling face eased him.

“We have so much to talk about.” You were dying to hear all his stories about his tour. Joost was always cool to you, but being a musician made him so much cooler.

“I can tell you all about my shows.” He immediately knew what you were interested in. “But in Dutch.”

You groaned in response, not wanting to start the speaking Dutch argument yet. You found a place far enough to talk out of earshot but close enough to keep an eye on the kids. The weather was perfect, warm and sunny but not enough to swim yet. 

“I thought you wanted to learn French.” You said, laying down the blankets and pulling his hand so that he’d sit with you. 

“I do.” Joost sat a little closer than you were anticipating, his shoulder and knee touching you. “I’ll talk to you in Dutch and you can answer in French.”

“That’s too hard.” You complained. “Just speak a little Dutch.”

“Fine.” He relented. “De concerten waren leuk, the concerts were fun, easy right?”

“Ja, zeker.” You answered, seeing his face immediately light up at hearing you attempt to speak Dutch again, even if it was simple. “Wat was je favoriete onderdeel, what was your favorite part?” You asked slowly.

“So advanced.” Joost complimented jokingly “Alles was goed, zingen is altijd leuk, maar reizen is het beste, it was all good, but traveling is the best.”

“Ja, dat is leuk.” You answered plainly, not having much in your memory to work with. 

Joost chuckled, bumping your knee. “How do you live in the Netherlands for five years and your Dutch is shit?”

“Your best friend speaks French and you don’t.” You attempted to defend yourself, it was a bit hypocritical as you two lived in the Netherlands at one point and not France. “But you will learn, and we’ll speak French all the time.”

“No, because I’m bringing you back to the Netherlands.” He answered, he was serious in his hopes you’d come back. “Everyone is waiting for you there.”

You hesitated, “I just hated the fact I couldn’t pick up Dutch.”  You’d said it a dozen times, the fact you’d felt more comfortable speaking French was the reason you’d chosen to start your life here. 

“We spoke Dutch all the time as kids.” He reminded you. “Don’t you want to come back?”

You couldn’t help but watch as Lucas and Max built sandcastles with their friend. France was beautiful, you had a good life and found a second family here. Even if the parents were a bit difficult at times, at least they paid you nicely and you knew they loved you. Still, you didn’t know if your future was nannying, or if it was even in France.

“I miss you all the time.” You began, reaching into one of the coolers to offer Joost a beer to let the building emotion taper off. “But maybe I’ll get to come back with you in two weeks.”

“It’s a bit early for beer.” He chuckled, handing it back and trading it for soda. “You’re trying to get me drunk already?”

“Shut up.” You hit his knee with yours. “Do you want to try to get into the water?”

Joost had felt the sun begin burning him through his shirt and was staring at the calm, crystal blue waters. He nodded and was relieved you said something. 

He watched as you slipped off the straps of your sheer coverup and kicked off your sandals. You wore a floral bikini, he wished he could get closer to study the pattern and to feel how soft your skin was, he was glad being at the beach with you was an opportunity to be able to be able to hold you. 

You two held hands as he led you into the water, thankfully it wasn’t as cold as he was expecting. At first, you two swam alone, you clung onto Joost’s back, your hands resting on his shoulders and legs wrapped around his torso as he went into the deeper end. It was like that for a while, talking about random things and pushing each other into the water until the kids decided to join you. 

Joost was always great with kids, he was gentle and patient even if they were spoiled and could be a bit demanding. Lucas and Max spent a great deal arguing over who got to go on Joost’s shoulders so that they could go in the deep end. You spent the rest of the time swimming with Joost, the boys, and the parents before you decided it was time for lunch.

Lucas had been working to keep himself, his brother and his friend separated from you so that you and Joost could have time alone together. It was a sweet gesture, and he could tell how much he cared for you and his wish to be alone, even if he didn’t completely understand the depth of it.

Joost wrapped you in a towel and offered to brush your hair as you began to eat your lunch, a cold sandwich you’d packed the night before, chips, and more cut-up fruits, you couldn’t help it living next to so many farms. You fed some chips and fruit to Joost as he detangled your hair, giggling as you tried to figure out where his mouth was without compromising his work.

“I’m done now.” He admired his work, smoothing down the hair on your face. “I’m hungry, stop forcing me to work.”

He sat beside you and began to eat, still watching the way the sun glittered on the water but even then he felt something missing. As beautiful as it was, he realized he’d enjoyed looking at your hair and the sight of your smiling face much more. 

“Is it good?” You asked, always tending to be nervous about whether or not someone liked your food. 

“Yes, always.” Joost responded, “I love your cooking.”

“Say, J’aime votre cuisine.” You told him, getting a side-eyed response. 

“J’aime votre cuisine.” He repeated, his pronunciation improving a bit. “How do you say I love the beach?”

“J’aime la plage.” You responded, wondering why he was asking such easy questions. 

“How do you say I love you?” He was trying to be annoying, but as always you gave in. 

“Je t’aime.” You said, rolling your eyes. “You know that.”

“Oh,” Joost brought you into an aggressive hug. “Je t’aime aussi.”

You didn’t know how the playful aggression ended up with you lying down with your head on Joost’s shoulder. You looked over at him, seeing that his expression had softened as you both listened to the sounds of the ocean and soft music from the shops down the street. 

“I wish you’d come back forever.” He mumbled suddenly.

“Why so soon?” You asked, “You get to visit me here, and you’re never home anymore anyway.”

“I’d bring you everywhere with me.” Joost’s tone was a bit too serious, “I could take care of you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at his face. It wasn’t fair, he was even handsome from this angle. “What do you mean?”

He was the one sighing and rolling his eyes this time. “You know how I feel about you.” he began, “You know I don’t see you as just a friend.” 

The confession wasn’t that, but just putting the obvious out into the open. You’ve never touched Joost more than a hug, or holding his hand in the seventeen years you’d known each other. You couldn’t fathom how excruciating it would have been if you focused on the fact that you’d always been dreaming about his touch and finally have something besides this friendship, as much as you cherished it.

You could’ve mistaken his lips for strawberries, and when you’d leaned down and pressed yours against them they might as well have been from how much fruit you’d spoiled him with. 

You kept the kiss brief, smoothing your hand down the softness of his cheek as you looked into his eyes, the blue much more magnificent and captivating than any ocean you’ve seen. 

“Ik hou van jou.” You whispered, the way his face brightened and how he smiled was something you’d never seen before. You wished the memory would burn itself into your mind. “You’re my best friend, I love you.”

“Je t’aime.” He whispered back, wasting no time to bring you into another kiss. 

[riiwrites]

“dancing in the dark.”

summary : when the BSD men catch you dancing.

includes : chuuya, dazai, fyodor

request : “i was thinking what fyodor, dazai and chuuya would react if their s/o is actually a dancer and keeps it a secret from them!” - 💙

a/n: thank you so much for the request, angel!! i really tried to fit the description as you requested in your og ask, i hope it’s fit to your standards :) also tysm to my lovely poe for being my russian translator for the nicknames that fyodor uses in this fic! show him some love, they’re so so great <3 @cherrymoka222

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CHUUYA

• Chuuya truly thought he knew everything about you. From your likes to dislikes, your personality traits and little silly habits. He thought he had you figured out.

• That was until, he caught you in the garden.

• Moving elegantly but so swiftly, he was in awe.

• He didn’t dare to disturb you, thinking this moment was just so perfect to ruin.

• And he thought, if you were to hide such a thing from him, how would you react if he knew? So he never confronts you about it.

• That is until, he has a better idea.

“Right, baby..I’m gonna head to bed.” Chuuya announced with a yawn, making you turn your head as you nod softly, smiling at him.

“Kay.”

He begins to walk out the room, as soon as he reaches the doorway however, he takes one last little glance at you and smiles to himself before heading off.

An hour or so later, the normal time you would often “head to bed” came around but in reality, you’re heading to your escape in the garden.

As you head towards the back door, you couldn’t help but have a sneaky feeling that something was different about tonight.

Oh how you were so right.

There stood Chuuya, still in his normal work attire with a big smirk on his face as he watched your little suspicious look turn into one of shock.

“Hey.” He says.

“..Hey..” You repeat, slowly making your way towards him. As you did, you noticed the scenery around you.

The bushes surrounding and sculpting the area were lit beautifully with fairy-lights scattered across them left to right, with a little boombox sat on a nearby table with slow jazz playing softly in the background.

“..So you know..?” You ask.

“Oh I know.” He instantly says, letting out a chuckle as he saw your flushed face out of embarrassment.

“Come now, doll..why the face? You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” He says softly, walking towards you and creating the distance between you both smaller and smaller with each passing second. “I think it’s beautiful.” He whispers as he reaches out to touch you, lifting your chin up with his gloved fingers.

You shyly locate your eyes to find his, a little hesitance in your voice as you whispered “Really?”

He nodded, his smirk now changing to a soft and comforting smile as he whispers back. “Really.” The tone in his voice sounding so sincere and full of genuine honesty made you feel giddy.

He leans in and kisses your lips ever so gently, before pulling away after a few seconds to hold out his hand towards you.

“Can I?” He asks.

You smile, nodding as you put your hand in his, and he slowly walks backwards and guides you throughout the garden, spinning you around and dancing with you in the dark as if time was nonexistent.

DAZAI

• This smug bastard already has a pretty fine idea about your talent.

• He’s already onto your every move.

• Why? Because he sees the way your eyes light up once anything dance related shows up on the screen and you look so engrossed with it.

• He thinks it’s adorable, really. He’s always known you’ve had a liking for dance.

• But, catching you whilst you’re actually dancing just like the stars on TV? Moving so graciously with your legs as you slowly make the garden your own.

• He could watch you for hours, and he did.

You walk on water like it’s fragile to touch, the little ripples appearing just below your toes as you tread ever so lightly but dance with such a powerful impact that could make everyone stop and stare.

Well, it made someone specific stop and stare.

“Wow..” You’re instantly snapped out of your thoughts as you fall straight into the water, snapping your head towards the sound of your disturbance. You shoot him a glare.

“Whaaat? Can’t I watch my beautiful bella dance like nobody’s watching?”

“Well someone’s clearly watching.” You scoff as you stand up, your lower half now drenched in water.

“I’ve been watching you for hours, Y’know~” He chimes, smirking as you step out of the water and shake your legs to remove any excess water.

“How did I not notice your eery gaze carving holes into the back of me..?” You whisper to yourself, but Dazai answers your rhetorical question anyway.

“I’ve actually known about your little talent for months now, you just haven’t spotted me. Until today when I was oh so rudely interrupted..” He sighs heavily.

“Okay, one, Joe Goldberg, cool it.” You retort as you walk towards the back door, to which he was standing in front of. “And two, you interrupted me! I would’ve kept dancing if you kept your mouth shut..”

“Oh?~” He says, his smirk only growing wider. “Is that an invitation, dear?”

You couldn’t help your blush as you look up at him, smiling a little as your annoyed facade fades. “..Maybe..”

He smiles, hopping off the steps leading to the back door and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Aren’t you just the sweetest when you’re not mad at me?” He says, then, he flicks your forehead.

“Ow!- dick..” You murmur as Dazai walks past you, giggling to himself as he reaches the bit of the garden to which you were dancing on.

“Well? Show me the VIP experience, bella.”

You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes as you rush to the pool of water as Dazais eyes follow you, waiting patiently for you to begin.

As you begin to dance and return to your concentrated look. Dazai stares with the biggest smile on his face as he watches you take the night away with your actions. God, how lucky was he?

And he could’ve sworn he fell in love with you all over again, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

FYODOR

• Like Dazai, he knows about your liking towards dancing.

• But, he doesn’t know you actually do it, he just thought it was something you enjoyed to watch.

• You tried your hardest to hide it from him, simply because you didn’t want to bother him with your interests whilst he was busy working and didn’t want to be a distraction.

• He suspected something the moment you started acting suspicious around him, you could never hide anything from him.

• He eventually found out about it one day when he was reading and then suddenly heard piano music being played from outside.

• His interest was piqued almost immediately, as he closed his book and slowly made his way throughout the house and out to the garden.

• He had his suspicions, and as he reached the door and opened it quietly, they were confirmed.

• There you were, dancing ever so beautifully and spinning heavenly. Why would you hide this from him?

• He wanted to find out, and he was going to.

Soon, the music came to an end, putting an end to your routine as you descend from your tiptoes and onto the ground flat. There were a few seconds of silence until the area was filled with sounds of slow clapping.

You could’ve swore you heard your heart stop.

“Myshka..why’d you stop?” He says with a little smirk. You turn around slowly as your met with your lovers strong gaze.

“Oh..uhm..because the song..ended..” You stammer, looking down at your feet as you could practically feel your inner self growing smaller and smaller with each moment of silence.

Fyodor walks towards you, hands clasped together. “What a performance, lapachka..You move so elegantly.” He compliments you, to which you blush and move your hands to your face.

“You weren’t supposed to know..” You muffle out, and he can’t help but chuckle at your cute actions. He gently takes your hands and pulls them from your face, giving you the same smile but this time, it looked comforting.

“And why not?” He asks.

“I just..” You pause, becoming careful with your words. “I didn’t want to bother you with it..”

His gaze becomes softer as he appears a bit confused, and also..saddened? It only lasts a second though as his smirk returns and he strokes your cheek.

“You could never bother me, dear..” He whispers as he kisses your lips. You close your eyes and kiss him back, going up on your tiptoes to get a better angle. He pulls away and continues stroking your cheek, before pulling away and walking past you and heading towards the music player himself.

You raise an eyebrow as you turn towards him. “..What are you doing?” You ask skeptically. He switches on a channel of classical music, looking up at you with the same look on his face as he extends a hand out towards you.

“Come.” He says, and you instantly follow.

He takes your hand and you both begin to way to the music, his feet moving just the same as yours as if he was an expert on what he was doing. You were surprised.

“How are you so experienced with this?” You giggle.

“I’ve adapted to the area of dancing in..every lifetime let’s just say..” He replies, spinning you around slowly once before going back to sway with you. You smile, making Fyodor chuckle just a little.

You both danced for most of the night, and being in eachothers arms made Fyodor think he was one of the luckiest men in the world.

Maybe living in this lifetime wasn’t so bad, as long as it meant being with you.

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