#and you have to vibe check your way into knowing how old they are how long theyve been here whats their name do they know what theyre doing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 10 months

Text

slowly, i'm going down

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pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

#mingi smut #ateez mingi smut #song mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #ateez song mingi #kpop #smut #kpop smut #fem reader #ateez x reader #mingi x reader

4K notes · View notes

hoshigray · 19 days

Note

hmmmm, chosuki both "marking their territory" after one of reader's friends gets a little too touchy?

Love your work <3333333

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: when i tell you i was grinning once i saw this in my inbox, lol, finally chosuki yessss!! ty for loving my stuff ☆

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Choso + Yuki x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - threesome - oral (m! + f! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - anal (f! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - cowgirl 69 + missionary positions - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - biting/marking - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, honey, sweetie, sweet pea) - mild possessive behavior.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

“Damn, Y/n, you’re so lucky to have such eye-catchers fawning over you!”

“Pfffthaha, oh, stop it! You’re drunk; stop swinging around!”

There’s one thing in this world that both Yuki and Choso don’t play about — you.

You are the sweetest and most prized treasure they cherish with their very hands. Being in a poly relationship tends to be a hard thing to manage for Yuki and Choso. The two lovers were never in luck to find the right person who didn’t match their vibe or wanted to change the dynamic they were going for. But with every dark tunnel, there’s a light on the other side. And thanks to the blonde and dark brunette’s stars, you were their saving grace.

God, they adored you very much — the best partner they could ever have. The way you’d wake up to them and give them a kiss with a soft ‘good morning,’ how you make lunch for Choso before he goes on his way to work, or texting sweet messages to Yuki to check how she’s doing or telling her about this new place that opened around the area for all three of you to explore. Blind by your smile and caring charm, Yuki and Choso live in eternal bliss and happiness, knowing you have blessed them with your presence to return home to.

Their love for you is mutual and genuine, authentic in that they wish to spend their days — no, their entire lives! — being with you. They see you as their muse, as theirs. So, it’s predictable that they’d be secretly jealous when they’d have to share their piece of heaven with others.

Especially now when all three of you had been dragged by some of your old college buddies for a night out at the pub. Figuring this would be a perfect opportunity to introduce your friends to your lovers, Yuki and Choso were invited over to enjoy the merits of this occasion. What the two partners hadn’t expected was how close you all were — albeit a little too close for their liking.

You all sat at one big round booth table, Yuki and Choso being separated from you as your friends wanted to have you by them for just the night. Again, it made the two lovers feel uneasy. Even when a girl friend grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with hers enthusiastically, the blonde can’t fight the twitch of her ruby eyes. The friend goes on to say, “Nah, are you kidding? I think those two are the ones who are lucky to have Y/n! They’re such an angel; anyone would feel like they’ve won a million dollars if they got with someone like them.”

Then, a guy who was visibly buzzed joined the praise fest. “You’re so right! I’d do backflips every day if I scored someone so gracious and sweet as Y/n,” the drunk man brings a hand on your shoulder and nestles his cheek to your shoulder. Choso attempts to keep a neutral expression, but caramel eyes carry a tiny hostile aura. “I’d make sure to love on them every single day, kiss their feet when they walk, wash their hair when they ask—“

“Okay, lover boy,” you stop him before your drunken friend digs his foolish grave even further, and it’s hard to hide your giggles. “I think that’s enough Crowne and tequila for one night.”

You and your friends laugh and continue to strike up a conversation to catch up on material. However, you’re so engrossed in the others’ talk that you can’t sense the tension that’s brewing from the other side where your lovers sit. The two survey the scene with silent eyes, with Choso hitting his leg to stop the bounce of his knee and Yuki tapping her fingernails on the table surface.

All they could do was watch you, their treasured partner, share your attention with those who cherish you. Although, internally, they wanted you all to themselves. Yes, it was selfish; however, you can’t blame your lovers for being a little protective of you. Specifically when it seems your friends don’t appear to respect your boundaries when in their company.

So for that, it’s no surprise they instantly pull you into the bedroom once you three return home. Hungry kisses are exchanged between three pairs of lips, lustful hands stripping you of your clothes and throwing you onto the bed, where they meet in seconds to feast upon you.

“Hahhh, fuck…Hmmm, yeah, lick right there, honey.”

“Mmmm…Mmahh!! Choso, your tongue—Ohh! Feels so good…”

The brunette man is lying down on his back with you straddling above him, his face and mouth buried into our folds, licking around your labia and sucking your essence that seeps out from the pleasurable motions. His hands knead the flesh of your inner thighs as you hum along to the touch. Simultaneously, you use your tongue and mouth to give pleasure to Yuki’s slit, the blonde releasing shaky moans as she rides on Choso’s length with her ass.

The tall woman peers down to watch you orally please her. She strokes your head with a pleasant hand and sends praises. “There you go, cutie,” she bites her lip. “Lick it real good.”

Her commands egg you on to keep going, using the motion of her hips to your advantage to predict how far in you can keep lapping her chasm. Your hands crawl to her waist to massage, using the leverage to keep your lips on her at all times. And to your effort, she is sighing happily at the gratification you give her. It has her rock her hips ever harder, taking in Choso’s long shaft with hunger.

The man below you grunts at the motion, stuffing his face more into your cunt to suck harshly. And you can’t help but jolt, muffled squeals vibrating to Yuki’s core — and she relishes the feeling.

“Look at you, baby,” Choso slowly licks your chasm, sending shivers up to your shoulders. “You’re all wet and ready for us, huh? So good for us,” He kisses your clit and places lazy licks, and you fight to lose your balance.

“Hmmm, yeah, so good for us…Although—mmahh,” Yuki throws her head back at Choso’s dick scraping her insides at the right places. “Can’t say you were good when we were…Hohhh..at the pub.” You bat your eyes towards her in confusion, yet your tongue and lips remain busy. “Letting those people touch you in front of us; what were you thinking?”

You remove your mouth from Yuki to explain, her slick connected to your bottom lip. But before you could utter a word, your body jerked to the sharp instance of pain on your inner thigh. Choso had bit you, licking the place his teeth sank in before throwing in another nibble. You shriek, turning to plead to the man to be easy; however, the woman grabs your head and brings it back to where it’s supposed to be. “Don’t forget about me, sweet pea,” she chuckles at your feverish laps on her wet folds. “Give me my attention…”

She moans to your work, satisfying her with the flick of your tongue on her delicate clit. She rocks her hips even faster, prompting Choso to groan and buck his pelvis to her puckered hole, and his mouth remains glued to your chasm. He then sneaks a finger to toy around your asshole, and a sharp gasp erupts from your figure when he inserts the digit inside.

“—Khhaaa, oooohmy fuckin’—Gaaahh!” Flicks to your clitoris tag along with the push of his finger inside your ass, playing with the texture by scraping the walls. And when his tongue goes inside your vagina, you clamp onto him with vigor. Fuck, I’m so close…! “Yukiiii, pleaseee, can I cumm?”

“Aww, why should I let you,” her sweet tone distracted you from the sneaking bit of the man’s teeth on your thigh once more. “Do you deserve to cum? After letting other people touch you like you forgot you had your lovers present?”

“Hahhhnn, I’m sorry; I—shit… didn’t mean to upset you both…Ooof!” Choso switches his finger with his thumb, pushing it to and fro inside your tight entrance. Your eyes screw shut, “Please forgive me, you two are the only ones I love…”

“You swear on that, honey?” A glint shines in her magenta orbs.

You nod hurriedly before placing kisses on Yuki’s thighs and trailing them back to her vagina, “Yessss, I love you both so much, no one knows how to love me as you do…” Your hips sway involuntarily — not a problem for Choso, who sticks to you no matter what. “Mmmm, only you two know my mind and body, and I wouldn’t want it any other way…”

Blonde brows eyebrows screw together; fuck, you knew what to say to make Yuki fall for you all over again. Her cunt clenching on nothing but the love your words carry. Jesus, you were too much. Without a word, she gently withdraws your body from her body so she can lift her body off of Choso. She then flips you over; now you’re the one lying on your back, with the tall woman stationed behind to snake her hands to your breasts.

Choso’s pigtails have long been drawn down for his hair to fall to his nape, and strands of his walnut-colored hair stick to his forehead. Maneuvering to his knees, he examines your anticipated expression, shaky wails coming out your puffy lips as Yuki places soft kisses on your neck. She also places bites wherever her mouth can reach, her hands busy cupping your mounds, groping the mounds, and tweezing your nipples. With how hard she was sucking your skin, you’re sure there’d be hickeys when you wake up in the morning. The man strokes his dick at the sight before him, inching closer to be between your legs.

“Choso…” The way you said his name made him feel warm; the mark across his nose exuded streaks of his blood that threatened to fall. His ears and shoulders get pinker, and your breath hitches when he slaps the tip onto your saliva-coated slit.

“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He says it low to your ear, and you chew on your lip when he licks your lobe. His mouth travels down, leaving harsh sucks on your neck and clavicle along with Yuki. Two mouths on your body have you whimpering like a fool, so sensitive to their touch that you could wither away. “Hmm? Who loves you most, sweetie?” He comes down to your chest that’s occupied by Yuki’s worshipping hands, popping a nipple into his mouth to suck with care.

“Hahhh, you, Choso, my darling…” you sigh into the sense of his mouth licking diligently around your bud. Your face turns in Yuki’s direction, smiling at the golden-haired woman before claiming her lips. “And Yuki, my love…”

The two of you kiss slowly yet maintain the same passion you have for each other, noses brushing against each other and tongues swirling before smacking lips together. The brunette lifts his head from your chest, straightening his posture to insert his cockhead inside your vagina. You mewl into Yuki at the insertion, and it doesn’t stop as the woman slithers a hand to your clit to swipe. You break the kiss in a huff, making the blonde snicker.

“Mmmph…Jesus Christ,” Choso trembles at the warm snug of your cunt as it accepts his length, pushing in for every inch of him to be swallowed in. When his base meets your southern lips, you hiss at how full you feel from his size. “You know how much we love you, right, baby?”

You nod to him, Yuki placing another hickey-worth kiss on your shoulder. “Your love makes me full, honey…Ohooo…!”

“And don’t forget that…” Choso snaps his hips, drilling his long dick into you and making precise hits to the walls of your chasm. You squeak beneath him, the tip of his cock poking your sweet spots with ease, and you’re gripping the sheets to keep you steady along with Yuki’s hold on you.

The blonde woman flickers her ruby eyes to Choso and beams, “You know you’re hot as hell when you’re all possessive, right?”

“Shut up,” he shushes her with a kiss, humming to her lips that reciprocate his feelings as lovers. The only noise that fills the room is your whines and wails from the hands fondling your body and the shaft plunging so far inside you that you can’t contain the ecstatic screams originating from your inner being. Good God, this felt so fucking good; being wanted and loved by these two is a sensation incomparable to anything. You want to drown in it, be immersed within it, have your senses be robbed of their very being until you fall deep into sleep in their embrace. This feels so worth it, so satisfying…

…Until you look at yourself in the mirror and find so many fucking hickeys all over your body, all the way from your neck to the grave of your thighs. This was not a sight to see after waking up, especially on the morning your friends from last night invited you over for brunch.

Needless to say, you pulled your lovers aside and gave them an earful. The two nodded to your words, saying “Sorry…” throughout your rant as you tried to find an adequate outfit to conceal their markings, feeling a little bad that they got carried away with you last night.

All is good, in any case. Because now they know that you are theirs both in mind and body.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

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laughing-with-god · 7 months

Text

Unsaid Vow I

(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)

Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.

Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!

Read first: Prologue

“I’m a grown man.”

These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.

You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.

If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen. Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.

“Good morning to you too, bud.” You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up. But what was the point of having plans when you had a child? They had a talent for ruining them.

“I’m five today.” Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.

“Yup, I know dumpling.” You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see ‘6:03 am” staring back at you. “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”

You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth. How could you ever forget that hellish day?

“Mom, it’s my birthday.” Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.

“Yes, happy birthday love.” You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt. “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”

“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”. Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.

Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies.

It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up. You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.

“Right, that is a good point.” You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired. “How does some breakfast sound?”

“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”

“Proposal?” You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.

“Yeah, that.” Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation. “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups. Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.” Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.

“Mmm...” You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer. “What if I gave you a very light coffee? A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”

Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.

With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch. “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud? I’ll be right out.”

The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.

You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of. More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on.

It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place. Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.

No.

Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.

Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later. Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40. Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.

Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from. Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.

A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.

You had asked why, bewildered at the request.

Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?

“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine. I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.” He had said.

That didn’t really make sense to you.

You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.

It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.

It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.

You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.

When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons. The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.

“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.” Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies. “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”

“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”

“You got it, birthday boy.”

The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast. You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.

The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.

You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.

The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.

“And of course, your coffee.” You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.

“Thanks mama.”

The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.

“Something wrong, dumpling?”

“It tastes…fa-fam-”

“Familiar?”

“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”

You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup. “No, this is the kid version. It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”

Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.

Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew. Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.

“So buddy, what do you want to do today? We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”

“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.”

Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.

Hugo had no friends. It was tough for a kid like him to make any. At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park.

Your son was different. He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.

So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends. You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then.

“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.” The boy looked at you skeptically. “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories. Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy. Sounds good?”

Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch. The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.

“Fine mommy, but we should be quick. Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”

“Allergies? Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.” You rolled your eyes.

With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.

When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities.

Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.

‘Be home by 6 please. Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’

#yandere jungkook #bts #yandere bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere bts fic #yandere imagines #bangtan boys #bts x reader

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months

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Can you do a scenario of Bakugou aftermath of the manga war right now, cause sense he had so much character development I think he have changed majorly big. And was wondering a bakugou x reader, aftermath after battle. I hope your up to date with the manga rn cause it’s super sad :(

But Mabye a scene of reader x bakugou, he wakes up in hospital and sees her waiting next to him in a chair waiting for him to wake up. And when he does he’s glad to see her alive and asking so many questions ☹️ maybe even a lil romantic vibe at the end ??!??😌

That would be so sweet thank you’!!

this is such a cute request ! i've been thinkin of writing a post war fic lately so thank you for the ask ! i tried to honour your request as best i could, hope you'll like it ! <3

BNHA MANGA SPOILERS !!, fem reader, injuries n blood n stuff, reader cries easily sorry im projecting, katsuki n reader have been together for a while (since before the first internship arc !)(..does this technically qualify as childhood friends to…anyways !), worried reader, worried katsu so its a lil angsty but it's pure fluff no worries !, kissing, katsuki is touchy and cannot pass up skin contact, katsuki is a biter cus i say he is so biting, best jeanist is here!! (and maybe kinda ooc cus idk him like that😭🫶🏾), afo is mentioned and called a ballsack lmfao i hate him, everyone is fine and dandy and healthy(?) cus im a major optimist, lemme know if i missed sum else<3!

it's been three weeks since katsuki's been asleep.

you'd woken up a week and a few days after the war had ended. you don't remember much besides fighting for your life, that of your friends and of the people of japan. you were greeted with the worried, relieved and snotty faces of your classmates. denki and kirishima had basically tackle hugged you and were immediately strictly reprimanded by iida and momo. your limbs hurt like hell but you could ignore it and focus on squeezing your friends for now.

except not everyone was here. you immediately realised katsuki was one of them.

you were horrified to find out from your friends, who were sure this would be your reaction and were refraining from telling you, that katsuki had once again suffered major injuries and had been asleep for a good week now.

your classmates had tried to reassure you, "bakugou's always doin' the impossible, he'll probably be awake and he'll go back to cussin' up a storm before we know it." sero said, trying his best to comfort you. you send him a smile that doesn't fully reach your eyes, but you still appreciate him nonetheless.

since that day you'd gone to visit him everyday. sometimes you'd just stare at his pretty lashes fluttering, wondering when he'd wake up. other times you'd talk to him about your day. it was boring, since you were still healing and still stuck in the hospital, but it was something.

your classmates came to visit too. kirishima comes to visit the most but you assume he’s just here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. he stays for around an hour, sneaks you some actually edible food then always leaves you with a “don’t push yourself too much, okay !”

you go to visit your other classmates, like izuku who had also taken a major beating, but was just as stubborn as your katsuki when it came to durability. you’re amazed to see how quickly he goes back to his old self, anxiously waving his arms around and telling you he’s completely okay, before promptly wincing and yelping out an “ouch !” when he moves his arm the wrong way. you jokingly warn him not to push himself too much too quickly or you’d mess him up even more than he already was every time you leave.

“i’ll try !” he chuckles, giving you a thumbs up.

you’d also met best jeanist recently, who had come to visit your boyfriend one day while you were also there. he told you that katsuki had talked about you once and that, in best jeanist’s words he seemed to be very enamored with you. you couldn’t help the way you shyly looked down at the ground, letting out a flustered chuckle and you thought you heard best jeanist laugh underneath his long, long turtleneck.

you’re currently sitting by katsuki’s bedside for the fourth monday in a row, smiling to yourself as you watch him sleep. you wonder if he’s dreaming about anything. despite the fact you looked it up and people can’t exactly dream while they’re in a coma, but you like to think he’s just asleep and having a very nice dream. the thought makes you happy, but it also makes a knot grow in your throat.

“i do hope you're having nice dreams, but i also hope you wake up soon." you whisper lovingly, brushing some hair out of his face. you run your finger along his nose bridge and cheek, usually he wouldn't be able to take soft touches like this for more than 10 seconds before getting embarrassed and pushing your hands away, trying to distract you from his beet red cheeks. you let out a watery giggle at the memory.

your throat starts feeling a little dry and as much as you don't want to leave katsuki, you figured you wouldn't miss much if you were only gone for a few minutes. you press a quick kiss to his forehead and before you get up to leave the room you look back at him once more time. only to see something strange, his eyelashes flutter more than usual, then his eyebrows furrow,

and then his eyes open.

he blinks groggily once, then twice. he tries to reach up and rub at his eye but the bandage on his arm won't allow him to and he winces. he realizes someone is in his room after a second, slowly looking up as if in slow motion. but then his movements fast forward when he realizes it's you in his room.

his eyes widen and he practically jumps up. hastily sitting up and leaning against the railing of his bed towards you

"yn—fuck !" but he seems to have underestimated how serious his injuries were in the moment. he doubles over and hisses in pain. the noise kickstarts you and immediatly you're in motion. you rush over to him, softly but urgently grabbing his shoulders you softly push him back against his pillows, he groans as you do. "don't sit up so quickly !" you fret "just lay down—"

he grabs your arm with his somewhat okay one tightly as soon as you make contact, "are you—fuck—are you okay ?" he asks breathlessly, his eyes urgently search around on your face and he frowns slightly as he scans over your light scratches. " fuck, i passed out before i could get to check up on you.." his eyebrows furrow even harder, mad at himself for not being able to watch over you.

he lifts his not so injured hand up just slightly and you lower your head so he can place it against your cheek. he rubs over it slowly "yer not hurt, are ya ? i mean—fuck, you are, but—"

"katsu.." you smile, already shushing him.

"nothing broken ?" he starts up again, prodding at every body part he can reach. you giggle lightly. "yer all bandaged up. swear i'll find the bastards who did this shit to you."

"i already dealt with them, so you don't need to worry about that." you chuckle. he copies you, his movements slow down the slightest bit and he chuckes slightly and you've missed that sound so much your heart squeezes.

“yeah, course you did..” he sighs, eyes shining brighter than usual and you suspect he’s tearing up a little when he swiftly looks away from you to wipe at his face, you don’t comment on it cus you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as well.

he tsks at the mostly okay, but still injured, arm against his face before pulling it back glaring at it, “this shit’s a real pain.” he mutters angrily, sucking his teeth.

you spring into action again, like a toy starting up when you wind it “don’t move it so much, you messed it up really badly during the fight !” you both notice how you flinch back when you instinctively go to grab his hand, then reach forward once more and barely grab his hand to guide it towards his lap, and then his body towards the pillows behind him again. katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at your ghost like touch.

he doesn’t say a word as you ramble and simply stares at you. you’d noticed he hadn’t even put up a fight when you’d pushed him back down onto his bed, but you were more worried about his well being rather than his behavior. but now you start to get a little bit worried at his lack of reaction, you place your hand on his chest softly, afraid to hurt him "wait just a sec, i'll go get a nur—"

"no." you let out a surprised sound when he grabs your hand. he stares straight into your eyes, and the bright red shine in them is such a huge contrast to them being closed for so long it almost knocks the wind out of you.

he vehemently shakes his head "i don't need none of that."

"katsuki, you need—"

"no i don't." he says stubbornly, you don't know if you're happy or not that he seems to be just as stubborn as before everything happened. it's a relief, sure, but it's starting to annoy you a bit. you want to fire back but he cuts you off "i don't need a nurse. need you." he mutters into your hand he had brung up to his lips to speak his last sentence against.

it’s only a light press of his lips against your skin but it sends chills down your spine. he does it again, red eyes fixed onto you to bring his point across. you suck in a harsh breath, then sigh in defeat.

"okay.." you sigh. "but we still have to get a nurse later." he grunts into your hand in begrudged agreement, "later." he mutters.

once he's gotten his feel of you, he slowly lifts his head up to look at you. he shuffles around in bed until he's sitting up a little straighter, waving you off when you sit up to help when he winces slightly.

he reaches for you and tugs at your arm lightly, as if he wanted you to sit closer to him. you happily oblige, scooting a little closer until you're leaning infront of him. he grumbles, obviously unhappy about something.

"come over here." he whines petutalanty.

you giggle at his childish demand "katsuki, no. you're very hurt and i don't wanna make you feel worse if i accidently push at something too hard. we can cuddle all you want when you get checked up." you explain. he’s obviously unhappy about that, rolling his eyes accompanied by a huff.

just like he usually would. you feel your eyes burn but your chest feels lighter and lighter the more you realize he’s here. your holding his hand and he’s holding it back, you’re looking at him and he at you.

it’s your katsuki.

“that’s bullshit, m’perfectly fine.” he scoffs.

you give him a once over, raising a brow for good measure “right.” you laugh when he scoffs again, but he can’t hide the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

it’s your katsuki, alright.

it’s quiet while you’re just indulging in each other’s company, the worry in your stomach gnawing at you every day he wouldn’t open his eyes these past few weeks finally washing away as you look at him lovingly when he closes his eyes and sighs against your skin.

“stop starin’.” he complains against your hand he still had in a tight grip, cheeks turning red. it seems like he doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon and doesn’t have any plans to as he bring it up to his mouth to bite you. you struggle and squeezes at his nose with a grin.

“hey, is it so bad to wanna look at my boyfriend that he’d been sleeping every day up until now ?” you make it sound like a joke, but your smile falters slightly and katsuki realizes. his eyes widen slightly.

"how..how long was i out for ?" his voice is still clouded with sleep even now. you plop back down onto your chair, dragged closer to him now “about three weeks.” you mutter, sad smile on your face and eyes downcast.

neither of you say anything for a moment and you’re quickly reminded of the quiet you’d gotten used to when he was still asleep. you don't like it and you want to fill the silence but you don't know what to say. katsuki doesn't respond and keeps looking at your expression, blinking slowly, like he does when he's trying to discern how you feel. he's annoyingly perceptive and you feel yourself get flustered by his gaze.

"now who's the one staring.." you mutter shyly, eyes drifting towards the floor to close him off of your mind with those all seeing eyes of his. you can tell he's seen through you, but it's worth a try anyway.

he reaches and tugs at your chair leg for you to scoot closer somehow. once, then twice harder when you don't make any move to listen to him. he grunts and you worry he'll hurt himself like he always end up doing when he’s not being careful, so you lean your face closer to him. you'd stare at him at all day like this if you could but your eyes won't look in his properly before they're shooting back towards the floor, katsuki huffs a breath of laughter onto your cheek.

"m'not allowed to look at my girlfriend after bein' passed the fuck out for three weeks ?" he smirks his eyes are soft even when he gruffs a mean laugh when he reaches up to pinch your nose back and you grumble at him, softly patting at his hand to shoo him away with a smile you try to hold back. he pokes at your cheek, you go to shoo and scold him but he surprises you by softly placing his hand against your cheek.

“was worried about you, you know.”

your eyes widen and your mouth drops open slightly at his sincerity. your heart warms and you can't stop the tears blurring your vision anymore. you clamp your mouth shut so as not to sob, but your bottom lip wobbles and katsuki huffs again.

"was thinkin 'bout you the whole time. hate that creepy ballsack head,” he grumbles bitterly “kept me from seein' my girl." he smiles when you let out a watery snort. you grab ahold of the hand on your face, running your thumb across the rough skin.

"i heard you really did a number on him."

"course i did. fuckin' decimated the fucker." he boasts and you laugh loudly. "made him cry like a baby. literally." he adds, you raise a brow in question but he simply shakes his again, as if telling you not to worry about it.

you don't question it and simply sigh against his hand happily, it feels nice to feel him again. "the others are gonna be happy to see you up. kiri's been coming to visit you every day. and i've forbidden izuku from getting out of bed, but he asks about you all the time."

katsuki scoffs, thumb slowling down in its movements "damn deku.. he better not think he's hot shit cus he woke up before me." you snort loudly at that, shaking your head at his childish antics.

"good he's not runnin' around. he'd probably end up breaking more of his bones by himself."

"that's what i said !" you giggle, and katsuki snorts. you missed hearing him. you missed him so much, you reach a hand up and wipe at your still wet eyes, katsuki grabs at that hand to wipe at your tears for you.

"was worried about you too, katsu." you sniffle "when i heard you got yourself hurt bad again i just—i got really scared.”

your boyfriend's eyebrows furrow sorrowfully and he wishes his body wasn't so weak so he could wrap you up in his arm and feel you close, never let you go. but his hand against your wet cheek will have to do for now.

but katsuki is a creature of habit, so he speaks "come over here." he whispers.

you lean in a small distance at first, not really sure of what he wanted you to do. katsuki grunts but when you get close enough he reaches for the back of your head and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.

and it's everything. soft yet his grip on you is firm, slow yet urgent when you grab the front of his hospital clothes and he huffs against you when he shoves his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. eyebrows furrowing in focus to handle his breathing because he doesn't want to pull away.

not yet.

you're first to pull away but he doesn't let you go far, immediately swooping in for another kiss, this one just as- if not more urgent-than the first. you softly run your hands through his soft locks and try to memorize the feeling like you hadn't been touching it everyday for the past three weeks. it feels different now.

not yet.

finally, you pull away even after katsuki chases your lips with a pout. you giggle and tug at his hair and he huffs at you, and leans forward to bite at the tip of your nose.

"katsuki !" you squeal flying back to wipe at your nose.

“don’t katsuki me” he chuckles, cheeks dusted pink. from the lack of oxygen just a moment ago or from embarrassment you don’t know, “ ‘ts your own fault, dumbass.”

you scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him and he snickers again. you’d missed that sound. you’d missed his laugh, and his stupid nicknames and his voice, the way he says your name and his eyes and his smile.

“i missed you.” you breathe, smiling at him with what you know can only be called heart eyes. katsuki blinks at you, turning red to the tips of his ears. he looks away but reaches for your hand, you give it to him and he presses his lips to the back of your hand.

“missed you too. really did.” he mutters.

this is the most embarrassed you’ve seen him and the sincerest at the same time, you commit the image to memory as your stomach flutters and your heart beats for him. and his for you. you can feel it in the way his hand steadily gets warmer, the way he closes his eyes and breathes you. in the way he kisses each of your fingertips and finishes it off with a bite to each to make you laugh.

you both know a lot of things still need to happen but they can wait for now. for now, his heart is here, beating with yours. your katsuki is awake and back where he’s supposed to be.

880 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 months

Text

MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening.

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised.

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you.

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own.

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so.

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body.

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from.

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man.

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!”

“No, it’s alri–”

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat.

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out.

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help.

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there.

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help.

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment.

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop.

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help.

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you.

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult.

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back.

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those.

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice.

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!”

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet.

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else.

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting.

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this.

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to.

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness.

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head.

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along.

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation.

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist.

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you.

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again.

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier.

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily.

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice.

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier.

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him.

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate.

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry.

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably.

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him.

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive.

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him.

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public.

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow.

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather.

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours.

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside.

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you.

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen.

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else.

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic.

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future.

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good.

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana.

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had.

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery.

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips.

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement.

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies.

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second.

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time.

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery.

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit.

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him.

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms.

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal.

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention.

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you.

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white.

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one.

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

hi! Could you please write something with like reader opening the door one day when Roy stars knocking for training but reader and Jamie aren’t open about their relationship yet? I think it would be cute xx

I also thought this was cute. Not sure if anyone notices/cares, but all my titles are song lyrics based ever so loosely on the vibe I am trying to convey. Thanks for another great request!

what it is

Someone’s aggressively knocking on the door and as you roll over to check the time. It’s 4am, and you poke Jamie who is fast asleep beside you.

“Babe,” you whisper, “someone’s at the door.”

Jamie groans and mumbles something incoherent. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell something’s off. You reach out your hand and feel his forehead. It’s burning up.

The knocking continues and Jamie lets out another groan and says something that sounds like raining? Oh. Training. You remember he trains every morning at 4, but you’ve never seen who he goes with. He just kisses you in your sleep and is back right as you wake up for the day.

You roll out of bed, grab one his sweatshirts from the floor, and pad downstairs to the door.

You swing open the door mid-knock. The man on the other side lowers his fist, looks at you all squinty for a moment, then says, “Who the fuck’re you?”

You return the look. “I live here. Who the fuck are you?”

The man scoffs. “No, you fucking don’t. This is Jamie Tartt’s house. Jesus fucking Christ, is he fucking blowing off training because of a fucking one-night stand?”

Oh. You know who this is. This is Roy Kent. You didn’t know he was the one training Jamie, but you guess it makes sense based on how much Jamie talks about him. It’s Roy Kent this, and Roy Kent that, and Roy says I need to eat more protein, and Roy said my hair looked funny today, does it look funny to you?

You sigh. You and Jamie have been together for three months, and you basically live at his house. You’re really only at your flat to change clothes. You have a toothbrush, pajamas, and half a wardrobe at Jamie’s. Your books have started to make their way onto his shelves too, as you read them and then leave them for him to start. That was a little bit of an accident at first, after you left This Side of Paradise one night and came back to a different bookmark on page 34.

Anyway, Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re dating Jamie, or that anyone is. You suppose in his mind, Jamie is happily single, fucking around like the twenty-something year old footballer he is.

Roy is still looking at you expectantly, so say, “I do live here. Why don’t you come in?” and hold open the door a bit wider.

Roy’s face says fuck it, and he follows you inside to the kitchen.

“Can I get you some tea?” you ask quietly, although Jamie can sleep through anything.

Roy seems surprised by the question, but says, “Yeah, sure,” as he stands by the kitchen island.

“Jamie’s sick,” you say. “He’s still asleep upstairs. I doubt he’ll be up for training today.”

“Right, yeah,” says Roy, “I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? Jamie’s not fucking supposed to be doing the whole one-night stand thing, he told me it’s too fucking distracting from training.”

You chuckle. “That’s comedy gold right there. Yeah, no, I’m not a one-night stand. I’m his girlfriend.”

Roy’s impressive eyebrows lift in shock, and you laugh again and give him your name. “Didn’t know I existed, did you? I’m not one for crowds or a big fuss. I told Jamie if we made it four months than he could start telling people. He was a little upset, but,” you shrug, “no point in making it a big deal if we just break up, right?”

You can practically see the wheels turning in Roy’s brain as he does the math.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking dating this little prick for three fucking months, and he hasn’t fucking said anything?”

You nod.

“Fuckkk,” Roy whispers, “that makes so much fucking sense.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“He’s been less of a prick recently,” Roy explains, “More considerate, been carrying around fucking books and shit. Not fucking flirting with everything that fucking moves. Thought maybe he was just taking beating Zava too fucking seriously.”

You nod and move to pour the tea. You and Roy both turn as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Jamie, who is wearing a headlamp, pajama shirt, athletic vest, and a single sock. And, thank God, pants.

“Ready for training coach,” he says with a salute, but the action almost makes him fall over. He looks all pale and sweaty, with bags under his eyes.

“Told you he was sick,” you say.

“Fuckin’ hell,” is all Roy can come up with.

Jamie seems to notice you for the first time and breaks out into a smile. “Roy! Look! I have a girlfriend,” he says, words a little slurred while pointing to you.

It’s punctuated by a “Jesus Christ,” from Roy as Jamie wobbles, unsteady on his feet from his fever.

“Alright, mister,” you say. “Back to bed.”

Jamie frowns. “Always so mean,” he says. He does an imitation of your voice, “No Jamie, you can’t tell Roy about us. Yes Jamie, I know Roy’s your best friend. No Jamie, I don’t think you love Roy more than me.” He looks at Roy as you sling his arm around your shoulders, supporting him at his waist. He puts his fingertips on your lips as he says, “See what I have to put up with?”

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as Roy says, “What you have to put up with?”

Jamie is so loopy right now. He lays his head on yours and smiles again. “Look at this. Me two favorite people, finally meeting. You should stay for dinner, coach.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh as you both mutually decide not to point out that it is now 4:30am and dinner is a long, long way away.

“Let’s go get you out of those clothes and into bed,” you say as you start to lead him back to your room.

Jamie casts a look back at Roy and wiggles his eyebrows. “Babe, you can’t just say things like that in front of granddad. Might give him a heart attack. Old people are such prudes.”

“Go to sleep, Tartt,” Roy says. He looks at you and says softly, “I can see myself out.”

You smile and wave with your free hand. “It was nice to meet you,” you say. “Hopefully we can meet again under more normal circumstances.”

Roy nods once and does what you think is a smile? He turns and heads out the door as you maneuver Jamie upstairs. Jamie Tartt has a girlfriend. And a good one at that. What is the world coming to?

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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predestinatos · 5 months

Text

cinnamon taste ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙ — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader

summary: your best friend showing up at your apartment isn't the only surprise you had that day

tags: best friends to lovers, giddy and shy charles, sooo much fluff, christmas vibes, improvised and creative mistletoe confession

words: 2.6k

note: someone requested something along these lines and i had sooo much fun writing it!! my heart is full and warm... rlly hope u guys like it too and happy holidays for those who celebrate

The scent of cinnamon and apple filled your lungs as you entered your apartment door. You congratulated yourself on the good choice of incense, apparently, but also punished yourself for seemingly leaving the music on while you were out. Jazz-y Christmas songs were playing softly, your living room feeling like a daydream of warmth and coziness.

But that dream was soon shattered upon the realization that you had brought your phone with you – there was no way it was still connected to Bluetooth. Someone was in your house.

Before you had time to panic as you removed your gloves and jacket, a figure appears before you and spins you in the air, embracing you tightly. At first, you screamed, terrified. But then the figure placed you on the floor, continuously repeating “it’s me it’s me I’m sorry” while giggling.

You immediately recognized the voice – your best friend was wrapped in an apron, glasses on and remnants of flour on his messy brown locks. Immediately, your heart went from racing to galloping, fear replaced by happiness. However, before you could show the good part, you punched him slightly in the chest, the hit clearly not producing any sort of damage. “You are such an idiot, Charles! You almost killed me” you said, although a smile was creeping in your lips and eyes as he pulled you for a hug.

Despite how long you’ve known each other, the hugs always felt the same: earnest, meaningful, his heart beating next to your ear, hands wrapped around you like a warm caress. It felt like this when you were 10 and played together, when you were 15 and snuck out together, and now this. You weren’t expecting to see him, especially not this close to Christmas day.

“I thought I’d do something with the spare key you gave me when I crashed here for a few weeks,” he said, as if reading your thoughts, already jumping between wondering how he got in and when he did it. His eyes, filled with affection, seemed simultaneously nervous, registering your face as if in analyzing it carefully.

Before you had time to ask, he pulled your arm and guided you to the kitchen – your own kitchen – warmly telling you “I have a surprise.” You followed him and as you entered the small marble kitchen, the scent hit you even harder. It smelt of comfort, of a cozy campfire feeling, of sweet bakeries opened and filled with decorations, all inside your house. The kitchen itself was slightly messy, hinting at its use, and Charles stood in it proudly, grabbing some mittens to remove the delicious smelling content from the oven.

They were cookies, made in all possible shapes and sizes – some unidentifiable, as he clearly did them by hand. The image of them filled your heart, your best friend placing them on the counter as he checked if they were ready to be eaten, almost like a postcard waiting to be stilled in time. “For how long are you staying?” you asked, afraid of the answer.

That fear proved itself right as you saw his expression change suddenly, the smile leaving his eyes and remaining only on his lips, an attempt at feigning comfort where there could possibly be none. “The day after tomorrow” he said, after a small cough, acting as if it was nothing, trying to lessen the pain of not knowing when you’d see him again.

Just for that moment, you decided to shrug it off as well, to ignore the elephant in the room that were the less than 48 hours you had to enjoy each other’s company, the knowledge that the old times of friendship won’t come back. “Better eat all of those until then!” you said, in your best effort to showcase as little sadness as possible.

You opened one of your cabinets and removed two mugs from it, one of them farther away than expected. On your tiptoes, you reached for the red mug with a big C on it, with “clumsy” written underneath in small letters. It was reserved especially for Charles, a small part of him that remained untouched from the moment he left and would only be touched again when he came back – which wasn’t often. Upon seeing it, his smile lit up once again, dimples showing on his slightly flushed cheeks, his upper arm reaching to fix the glasses he was wearing as his hands were busy sprinkling cinnamon all over the biscuits.

Placing the just made hot chocolate on the small glass coffee table in your living room, you waited for Charles, who showed up holding a plate decorated with all of his creations, which he placed next to your mugs.

You wrapped around blankets as you sat on the floor, mimicking simpler times, nostalgia running through your veins as the liquid you drank ran through your throats. Charles’ eyes scanned your living room again, “did you decorate this all by yourself?” he asked, as he analyzed the matching patterns in your white Christmas tree and how well they fit with the honey tones of the decorations scattered carefully around the room.

“Depends,” you replied, smiling, “Do you like it?” He looked at you then, the same nervousness returning to his cheeks, red from something that couldn’t be the cold, given the warmth inside your apartment. For the first time since you knew him, his eyes studied your face in a way that made you look away timidly. “Yes it’s amazing” he replied, answering the question as a way to break the sudden tension, but creating an opposite effect.

“A friend helped me” you confessed to him, shrugging. “I don’t think you know him, he-” you were about to begin, but Charles’ eyes shot to you and then quickly to the content inside his mug, fidgeting as he did so. “He and his girlfriend, love decorations and had some extra stuff from their last year so they added a lot to this” you explained, emphasizing the word ‘girlfriend’ as if it needed to be, as if you owed your best friend an explanation or seal of approval that you weren’t aware of until now. You knew it was necessary, however, when you saw his shoulders relax at your words, chest rising and falling softly underneath his sweater.

You rested your head against his shoulders reassuringly, letting him know that he wouldn’t miss any detail of your life, that you’d always make sure to update him on everything. You weren’t sure that’s what he wanted but you hoped he would understand the sentiment behind it, and you were sure he did when he laid a soft kiss on the top of your head.

His body smelled of cinnamon itself, sweet and lovely, and you couldn’t help but pull him closer by the arm, feeling his warmth which you hadn’t for so long. “I missed you, Charlie” you said, smiling to yourself. “Me too, silly” he replied whilst slowly pushing you away and getting up. “Which reminds me, I have something for you.”

You looked up at your best friend, feeling the cold spot from where he previously was, as he ran hurriedly to one of your spare rooms – which could be called his room since that was all the use it had. “Why don’t you just give it to me and I’ll open on Christmas? I don’t want to jinx it!” you yelled from your sitting place, biting one of the tree-shaped biscuits he had prepared, amazed at its taste and softness.

he came back holding a small box in his hands, carefully wrapped and decorated with a red ribbon at the top. Pride was written all over his smile and gaze as he sat down in front of you, handing you the present as he grabbed one of his own biscuits. “Because,” he said, in between bites “this is very important and urgent” he continued, giggling excitedly. You could tell from his tone that his voice was overly excited, almost acting, but you didn’t want to push him, not when he stared at you anxiously, eyes big and expectant like a puppy. His giggles were quickly replaced by sudden seriousness as soon as your hands started unwrapping the present carefully, not even wanting to ruin the package.

You were faced with a box, beautiful and cushioned, its surface gorgeously reminding you of wine nights with the company of the man who seemed not to be able to sit still in front of you. “Open it” he said, swallowing hard and nervously, leaning closer and closer with your every movement. You complied, your own curiosity threatening to jump out of your mouth, hands shaking as Charles’ own breath seemed almost irregular.

Inside it, you saw a delicate crystal, green, red and clear, in the shape of a plant. Not a plant – mistletoe. It glistened beautifully and its fragility fascinated you. It was beautiful, and you remained speechless as you examined it. “Charlie it’s-” you started, though you had no words to describe what you were feeling. Of course, the gift was absolutely mesmerizing, a small token that was impossible to not notice. Yet, you didn’t exactly know what it meant.

Charles gave you no time to think about it before he moved awkwardly, getting closer to you, closer than usual even for you two. “Listen, I… Do you want to hang it somewhere?” he said, the question so sudden, like a window that opened quickly and let all the cold wind inside the room. You looked into his eyes and found yourself still unable to speak, resorting to a simple nod as you got up, the box still resting in your hands, and he followed your movements.

You decided to hang it carefully in one of the tallest branches of your Christmas tree, where the lights hit beautifully and made it the centerpiece, stealing all the attention from the star at the top. “It’s beautiful” you finally managed to say, along with an earnest thank you, and you were about to turn back to the warm blanket when his fingertips stopped you by softly resting on your wrist.

“Wait,” he started, barely moving. All movement you could witness came from his nostrils as he exhaled deeply, his gaze completely focused on you. “I need to tell you something” he continued, looking up at the gift he had just given you. Following his gaze, you realized what he meant. “Oh. Oh this was for someone else- it’s fine Charlie mistakes happen-” you began, rising to your tiptoes in order to remove the ornament, almost laughing at your own silliness.

Once again that night, Charles stopped you, laughing warmly. “God, you’re so silly sometimes,” he told you, and despite the cold toned color of his eyes, they expressed such warmth it took your breath away. “No, this gift is for you. That’s what I mean,” he said, stumbling across his every word, “I gave you this because you’re the one I want to experience this with. The whole mistletoe kissing thing. Maybe this is silly…” his hand flew to his neck awkwardly, reminding you of when he was younger and in high school, trying to impress some girl he had a crush on.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, nor what it could mean for your friendship in general. But you were sure you wanted to experience that moment with him as well, feel him closer to you than you ever did, your every muscle begging you to act. “Do it then” you dared him, your own nervousness coming out. You thought about how silly it was, your nervousness, given how old you two were, how much you had witnessed together, the moment so out of the ordinary yet seemingly so predictable, as if it was destined to happen.

At that, Charles’ eyes widened, but his whole body went into action. His hand went to your cheek as the other pulled you by your waist, eyes falling on your lips as if everything moved in slow motion. You placed your own hands on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat as his lips fell on yours, so soft and familiar despite how unknown it all was. The sudden smell of chestnuts and ginger intensified as the room seemed to transform, how despite the warmth you almost felt snow falling on both of your bodies. Charles couldn’t get enough of you, his hand going from your cheek to the back of your neck, begging you for more, for the moment to last for as long as possible.

Like a magnet, your own hands caressed and pulled his hair incessantly, reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere, as his heartbeat stabilized in calmness and comfort in how well your lips fit on his. His closeness was intoxicating, and you felt dizzy from how good you were feeling with his sheer presence, how right everything seemed to feel, how effortlessly he got you in your best mood.

Pulling away, you saw a smile which you had rarely seen in Charles’ face. It happened at his most happiest moments – when he won races, when he beat you at rock paper scissors when you were kids, when he got the best scores in spelling bees – it reached every muscle in his body and yours, so contagious was his cheerfulness.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he said, giddy and red from shyness, looking so innocent all of a sudden, despite his grip still on your waist. “I’ve been so confused, especially since the last time I stayed over. No one can make me feel like you do, and this is so hard to explain, and I don’t know how it got to this point but I have been thinking about it every day, about how good I feel when I am with you, how I just get so incredibly happy and-” you quieted his rambling by giving him a shy peck on his lips, giggling at how he stood motionless after it, eyes widened and eyebrows raised.

“I love you too” you told him, meaning every word, anxiously looking forward for the rest of your life.

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helluvapoison · 3 months

Note

Hi! I feel a little awkward bc I’ve never asked anonymously but I really wanted to ask this but wasn’t comfortable enough to ask regularly, but I really enjoy your hazbin works and the hyperfixation has been gripping me HARD and I wanted to see what you’d think of a Lucifer x Reader where they have a sort of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts vibes, where Reader is his personal assistant and what your thought on that are?

~✨

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

i put my thoughts at the bottom :3c

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• As his colleague, Lucifer is rather frustrating. He hired you as his personal assistant but won’t let you assist

• In the beginning, the most he’ll ask of you is if you know where something is. The answer is usually in his hand or line of sight. Without making him feel dumb, you simply retrieve it for him

• It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer either. He praises you often and in the form of a soft, “What would I do without you?”

• “I’m sure I don’t want to find out, Mr Morningstar.”

• Maybe it takes a minute for the initial “I’m working for the King of Hell” shock to wear off and when it does you realize it was clouding your judgment. Lucifer truly does require your help but he’s incapable of asking for what he needs; it’s up to you to step in and make necessary decisions on his behalf

• That’s what he’s paying you for, right?

• You tell him exactly what’s going to happen before you do it so he’s not caught off guard. He still is. Baffled, really, that you got so ballsy overnight

• Let the banter and boundary pushing begin. Nothing major! You just keep to your word, continuing your courageous streak

• Plucking all the sticky notes off the wall and collecting the ones that were so old they dropped to the floor, you spend an entire day sorting through them. You give his schedule a must needed update and sync it to both your phones so either of you could make changes and be alerted to it

“Why do I need your play-by-play?” He asks teasingly

“So you don’t call me at 4am because you forget I’m not here. Y’know, like last time.”

• Oh yeah, personal space and boundaries cease to exist between you. He’ll sit right next to you, or pull your chair closer to his. When he’s bored, he’ll sit right on your desk

• When he brings you to meetings, which is always because you’re supposed to be focusing on his behalf, he leans in and makes jokes that have you pressing your lips together to be quiet

• “I need to take notes,”

• “And you’re doing great, now jot down how Asmodeus’ shirt is on backwards,” He snickers

• Texting outside your shifts is a regular occurrence. Messages sent back and forth until it’s beyond sleeping hours and you tell him to go to bed

• “See you in 3 hours.” He texts back like he’s counting down (he is)

• Miraculously, you covered all corners of his (rather empty) mansion. Nothing was off limits to you except Charlie’s old room. You made sure dishes left his room or office and made it to the kitchen, checks for the house staff went out on time, supplies were stocked, etc.

• You take paperwork off his desk, screen and divert miscellaneous calls to your phone instead of his, overall taking unnecessary weight from his shoulders. You go as far as to pencil in mealtimes. It’s appreciated even though he’d still forget if you weren’t around

• “I’m beginning to suspect you’re underpaid,” Lucifer partially jokes

• You’re really, really not

• Sure, he spouts his stream of consciousness and it’s up for you to decipher what’s important and what’s just him sharing random details. Yes, he has you sit on his chair while he gestures wildly and explains the mechanics of something you don’t understand just because he’s excited about it. And yes, maybe, you spend too much time in his house than your own

• But you’re disgustingly overcompensated. You thought he made a mistake when you saw your paycheck. If not by actual money, Lucifer spoils you rotten in ways he definitely shouldn’t and doesn’t for his other employees

• “You deserve it for putting up with me,” His voice is laced with more adoration than acceptable, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

• You haven’t been doing it for the money in a long time

• The two of you have been teetering over the line of professional and inappropriate, praying, begging really, to fall on the side of the latter

• You almost kill him when you say you want to quit. Lucifer’s ready to offer you Hell on a golden platter if you’ll stay

• “It’s not about the money. I-I can’t do this anymore, I feel like a gold digger and I hate it! I don’t want to be your assistant, I want more and I–”

• Lucifer heard more and is struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you

• “How much more?” He asks instead, voice cracking in anticipation, “If it’s in my power, it’s yours for the taking.”

• “Mr Morning—“

• “You want more? I can give you more. I can give you everything, anything, just tell me what you want. I know I’m a mess but I can be better! I can— I can,” Lucifer scrambles to find something, his wild eyes searching the air between you for anything you haven’t already done for him. He sighs, “I can be better, I promise…”

• “Because I want more too. I want to take you on cheesy dates, I want to have you beside me everywhere I go, I want all of Hell to know you’re mine. I want you to come here and stay here because you want to!” He wheezes and tugs at his collar, “And now I feel like want isn’t a word anymore because I’ve been saying it too much— do you ever do that? You say it over and over again and it starts to.. to…”

• He stares at your hand, placed softly over his to stop him from clutching at his clothes. Oh fuck, he can’t breathe

• “You’re really working for that pride title, aren’t you?” You tease softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest before stealing his other hand, “Tell me more about what you want, Mr—“

• “Lucifer,” He all but begs

• “Lucifer,” You hum and he shivers, “What else?”

• “Don’t leave me,” He breathes, “I’ll be better.”

• “You’re already enough.”

• Painfully aware of how close the two of you have become, Lucifer struggles to keep your eyes locked with his. Your lips look so enticing, they always have

• His voice is quiet, almost broken, when he says, “I—I need you to say it.”

• “I won’t leave you. I’m still quitting though,” You smile, hovering over his lips, “So you’ll have to find a different way to compensate me.”

• “Pfft. Easy peasy,”

• He says nonchalantly as if he hasn’t tripped over nothing imagining your lips on his before. It’s nothing compared to the real thing

• Once again, you’re overcompensated

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hello hi ✨! you’re getting a kith, c’mere. I absolutely see the vibes you’re going for and I am here for it!

i think tony and pepper are hilarious and adorable but i recognise it isn’t the healthiest of relationships out there. i know that’s not what you were implying at all though! the flirting, the bizarre requests, the shameless spending, the nonstop talking, the nonexistent boundaries, the devotion– yes, i see it i see it i see it!

i don’t think lucifer would raise his voice (not to you, anyways) you could get away with actual murder and that’s before he realizes his feelings for you. he can get rid of a body easily

lucifer may (like tony) forget the day of important dates but when he realizes, he makes up for it completely! he feels awful about it

if you look at something for 3 seconds too long, he’s buying it. if you show him something, he’s buying it. if he thinks you want it, he’s buying it

(like pepper) you definitely do put up with a lot of similar antics behind them though are good intentions and lucifer’s better at accepting fault. so if they genuinely upset you, he’ll find a way to mend it... usually it goes over the top

there’s really nothing lucifer wouldn’t do for you, it just takes some reminding that you’d do the same for him

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask stuff #ask me anything

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yuri-is-online · 8 months

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Plead the Fifth (Riddle, Floyd, Azul, Jack, Lilia, and Ace x Yuu)

Summer vacation is all fun and games until someone asks you to be honest with yourself. Unfortunately for Yuu, they got dragged to the beach by some "friends" and are getting a big old dose of heat stroke, just not from a source they want to confess to outside of a court.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, no spoilers for Lost in the Book with Stitch this is just about their summer outfits. Vague tsundere vibes from Yuu, Yuu is implied to be physically strong, Floyd knows he's hot and has a bone to pick from Portfest, also he's a red flag have I mentioned that before? Azul is only mildly possessive don't worry about it ♡. Mild suggestiveness all around, but I don't think it's too much. Feel free to check out my more serious work on my masterlist.

Riddle

"Seriously!" Riddle's cheeks are puffed in annoyance, and you have an uncomfortably close view. Not that you don't like looking at Riddle, quite the opposite, it's just hard to look at him... properly when he's fussing over your injured hand. "You would think that such a highly recommended resort would have better quality glasses." You don't know if you should be relieved or insulted Riddle believes it's cheap glass and not your raw strength responsible for the glass shards stuck in your hand. You flex it uncertainly, and he stares you into stillness. It's hard to focus with him so close, hard to breathe even. How Riddle hasn't noticed how beautiful he is normally is beyond you, but with how carefree he's been, staring out at the ocean and happily bringing you to see every unique shell he can identify, there is no way he can't at least sense how you look at him. It's just too much, and you find yourself pulling away worried he will find you disgusting.

But that's not what Riddle sees. He sees someone he cares for refusing to let him help. He certainly does not see someone who is nervously infatuated with him attempting to soothe their heart rate, otherwise he wouldn't have the nerve to continue being strict.

"Just where do you think you're going?" If he could collar you, he would, but instead he has to satisfy himself with yanking your shirt to keep you from struggling away. "Don't move, that's a direct order, prefect." You wheeze and Riddle decides to politely ignore your struggles, instead focusing on the weight of your hand in his with a smug sense of satisfaction. He is useful to you isn't he? So let him monopolize your attention for just a little longer.

Floyd

"Oooh Little Shrimpy~" You want to die. You probably are going to, Floyd has never been so close to your face without pinning your back to a wall, you would be stupid not to see it as a threat to squeeze. "You better not be thinkin' about callin' me adorable that'd really piss me off." You swallow. Or at least try to, you are horribly painfully aware that he has chosen to pick this fight just off the boardwalk meaning everyone can see your little spat and how little you have been looking at his eyes. Floyd can too, it's been sending a vaguely exciting shudder up and down his spine all day. He knows every dip and curve along his chest your eyes have followed, every lingering stare at his flexing shoulders, it's like you want to eat him for a change. He found that electrifying.

Or at least he had, but this little dance was starting to get boring.

What sort of predator never makes a move after setting the mood? He had tried telling himself he should be patient, shrimps aren't predators. Maybe Yuu needed extra time to set up their attack, he could work with that, maybe leave a few openings. But he was starting to run out of buttons to undo on his shirt and he really didn't want to ditch the sunglasses or beads just yet. He had been such a good patient eel, so why weren't you jumping on him already?

"I don't think-" You force yourself to look up at Floyd's eyes instead of his chest and your brain immediately fries. "I mean that isn't to say-" He glares at you and you try to wrack your brain for what compliment he could possibly want out of you. There is no way Floyd Leech is going to these lengths to try and get you to call him cool.

"Y'know, it's really rude to not answer your seniors shrimpy." Floyd draws himself up to his full height, with an oddly solemn look. "You're usually such a well-behaved little shrimp, is somethin wrong? You know if somethings wrong you had probably better tell me or Azul's gonna have to call the Headmage."

"It's because you're too hot ok! I cant focus on what you're saying because I keep looking at your fucking chest! Happ-" You can't get your compliment out before he's squeezed you into his chest and started shaking you around like a rag doll, squealing something about how hunting isn't that hard and he knew you could do it.

There's no way you were ever the one on the prowl here.

Azul

This isn't a date. Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, you are having a "purely platonic at best but lets be real this is probably for business" drink with Azul at the tacky (his words not yours) poolside bar. "I wouldn't have thought about putting a water park next to a beach." He murmers to himself, carefully photographing every angle of his float before sitting down to drink it. "It just sounds redundant." You shrug, idly stirring your own drink.

"You'd be surprised. Some humans really don't like swimming in the ocean." You're the one saying it, so he has no real choice to belive it but it's hard to wrap his head around.

"How is one of these parks safer? They aren't nearly as clean." He thinks that if he ran a place like this, that would be the biggest problem, humans are messy creatures already, but the level of mess he has just casually observed while sitting here with you really makes him wonder just what the actual appeal of this place is. Well, at least just what the appeal was to paying customers, he knew why he wanted to bring you here. Usually, when Azul turns to look at you, you immediately look away from him. But as long as you've been on this little vacation, no matter how many times he's looked your gaze has remained exactly where it should be. He's puffing with pride, looking you over wondering exactly what angle he can press to get you to say what it is you actually are thinking and not whatever cheap jab you have prepared to protect yourself.

You remain none the wiser, stuck staring at Azul and his shirt simultaneously drowning in how attractive you find him and how much it reminds you of a man in his mid fifties who relies on his bank account to make up for his miserable personality.

"See something you like, prefect?" Azul is unbelievably happy, you are tempted to say smug but then he sort of always does. It's the glasses you think as you bite on your straw and hope he doesn't notice how hard it is for you to maintain eye contact. But he does, oh he does, taking advantage of your flustered state to move closer to your side.

"You- you..." Azul is stupidly attractive he has to know that, but you also know he is desperately insecure and don't want to send him into a spiral with your stupid tongue. "You look like a middle-aged dad on his third divorce on vacation trying to doge the tax man." You mutter, trying really hard to sound threatening. It doesn't work, Azul just gives his best put upon sigh as he clucks his tongue in disappointment.

To your great surprise, he moves his hand to tilt your head to look him directly in his bright blue eyes, a similar smile to the one he has while trying to sell you on something directly kicking your heart rate up. He is trying to sell you on himself, you realize...

"How insulting, my dear. You should know better than anyone that no one gets out of a contract with me so easily they'd be able to do it three times." ... and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer. Not that it was the answer you intended to give him in the first place, and oh how happy he is to know that.

Jack

"Honestly! You would think you'd know to be more careful by now." You might as well be talking to a brick wall, Jack's certainly solid enough to pass for one. He still seems to be under the impression that he's fine despite how much of his weight you are supporting. You think he is trying to talk, but the heat has him only babbling nonsense. Reluctantly, he lets you guide him over to a shady patch of trees close to a water fountain before he is well and truly gone.

"This is nothing. I handled the Savana I can take a stupid beach." He mutters as if he his extremely visible chest isn't heaving or rolling with droplets of sweat that other, lesser people have been watching drip from his abs with extreme disrespect.

Not you, though! No, your eyes have been firmly on the spicket on the fountain, determined to soak one of the smaller towels you brought and gently press it to Jack's forehead. Despite his insistence that he's fine, he leans desperately into your cooling touch, tension leaving his shoulders in one deep breath.

Just as all strength leaves yours as he decides to collapse into your lap.

"J-Jack!" You don't know what you want to ask next. Your back is pinned to one of the trees, Jack's head is resting firmly in your lap, but the arm that had been around your shoulder has decided to move around your waist. He growls (growls!) when you gently try to push him off you to try and get him set up in a more comfortable position. "Bad dog." It's all you can think to say and he doesn't seem fazed, if anything you swear he starts holding you closer. There is no way this could get any more embarrassing.

"Mommy, what is that guy doing to his partner? It looks like he's trying to eat them." Never mind yes it could. You make awkward eye contact with a very young mother as you try to silently plead with her that "no, this isn't what it looks like, I swear" as you desperately try to revive Jack with the damp cloth. The young woman looks at you then to her child, clearly trying to hold back her laughter and not doing it very well. She manages to usher him off before he can ask any more pointed questions and you glare down at Jack.

"You're setting such a bad example." You mutter and he lets go of your waist only to cross his arms over his chest and start to snore. Oh he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up, assuming he believes half of what you'll have to say.

Lilia

Love and Lilia are old strangers. He knows he can feel it, no matter what ancient denials he might have made, but he finds no matter how long he lives he is no better at recognizing it, no better at knowing what to do with it. There's something ironic about how much of an outlier this chance meeting between you both that makes him feel something akin to apathy. He doesn't think that's quite the right word, but he struggles to better find an explanation for the little knots it ties itself in sometimes.

So Lilia may not know just what this emotion is no, but he knows he likes the way it looks on you.

"Well, prefect? It's rude to stare you know." He says that as if he is not trying to make you, winking just over his sunglasses and striking a pose Cater had shown him on magicam in just a silly enough way that he can pass it off as one of his usual jokes. Your usual denial flutters up on your face, but your heart seems to be beating your brain to your tongue today.

"You look very cute, Lilia." That strange pit is filling with nervous flutters again, but his brain beats his soul to his mouth.

"That's good! I was worried I'd have to spend this vacation in the shadows out of shame." He says, fully aware that you are both currently sat in the shade of a particularly large umbrella precisely because he can't be out in the sun for long, even if that's the purpose of a beach vacation. Speaking of which... "Why don't you go join the others out on the beach, prefect? You helped me with my little errand, you deserve to take a break." He says it much more gently than he'd intended, if it wasn't pointless, he'd keep you here and needle you for more cute reactions. Maybe he would ask you to try on his shirt and demand yours as payment. But that's not fair, that's not life, this connection is destined to be as fleeting as it is precious. The way disappointment and confusion mingle in your eyes tells him you know that too, on some level.

"Calling you cute isn't a chore, but sure, I guess." You tell him something about calling for you if he decides to go somewhere else, and he thinks he promises you only if you do the same, but he doesn't know. He's too focused on the way the sun takes you into it's embrace, taunting everyone but certainly him specifically with just how much you look like you belong out there in the daylight.

But the moon can still observe can't it? In a way that's all he knows how to do.

Ace

You really hate how low your standards are. Who the hell gets all jittery and flustered over a guy in a boater hat? You apparently, Ace has the worst dad on vacation fit you have ever seen, assuming you are politely ignoring Azul. Something that's unfortunately easy for you to do and has led to you paying just that much more attention to Ace.

Or at least that's what you've been trying to tell him while pointedly staring out at the shore. You wish he was too lazy to put things together, but as usual, when there is an inch to tease you over, Ace Trappola will take a mile.

"Admit it, you think I'm hot." He sounds so infuriatingly smug. It makes you want to kiss him but only to shut him up! Not because you like him!

"The only thing hot about you is how full you are of hot air! Seriously, what's up with that bunch of fruit on your shoulder? Why would I find that attractive?" You know it only sounds like you are asking yourself, begging more like, because you really do think he's attractive. It's written all over your face, you might as well scream it with just how flustered you become when finally you decide to look back at him.

"It's ok to admit. It might be self-centered to say, but I really am a catch. Really prefect how did you get so lucky?" Oh he is never going to let you live this down.

"Please, you look like a dead beat dad on his third divorce!" Your voice is unnaturally high, and Ace just laughs off your insult. "Who would be attracted to you!"

"You, duh." He takes your hand and pulls you back towards the beach. "Besides, if I convinced you to marry me twice, I can do it a third time." He winks at you over his shoulder and you stop dead in your tracks, so overwhelmed with annoyed affection and embarrassment it's all you can do to grasp for a come back.

"Was it Duece."

"What?" Ace is momentarily thrown, extremely confused by what he perceives as a change of subject.

"You said you could convince me to marry you a third time, but you're on your third divorce. So when did you leave me for Deuce ?"

"Wait I didn't- you know that's not what I meant!" And yes, technically, you do know that's not what he meant, but you refuse to be the only one embarrassed here. You hope he chokes.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #floyd leech x reader #jack howl x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #ace trappola x reader

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sunkissed-zegras · 5 days

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Can you do a pt.2 of UConn wbb manager headcannon pleasee

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

─ warnings | mentions of injuries, fluffy, nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

there are soooo many videos of manager getting upset over dumb calls that they make on the court

and people like read her lips and it's so funny because she'll just cuss them out not knowing there's a camera on her

like she gets pissed but since she can't get involved, she'll just talk to herself as she takes pictures

they become reaction pictures

the caption would be like "when my mom pisses me off but i can't let her hear" or something like that

there are a lot of videos of manager being really sassy but there are PLENTY of her being a sweetheart

especially to fans!!!!!!

not necessarily like clips or anything but anyone who's met her LOVES HER

she will gladly take pics of you and the player she's with, and not only that but baby girl will get ALL the angles

it's adorable

i feel everyone is very protective of manager but ESPECIALLY kk and paige because they're like her guard dogs

this may be like a really niche example but kinda like kiyoko in haikyuu??? yeah...

also NIKA

paige/kk get really protective over literally anything so it's just them tryna make you laugh when they're protective, but you/nika have a different dynamic where it's like

if anyone tries to disrespect you, not only will they have to deal with paige/kk but NIKA

and she's sm scarier than them no offense...

you know you've made into manager's heart when she starts to tease you because she's like... not being too professional with you anymore

especially like the freshman, ooo she loves teasing them

in this ask, where nonnie talks about how the team brings out manager's soft side is sooo true

like she may seem like a cold-stone bitch but in reality, she's NOT !! not even a tiny bit, poor girl just has the worst case of rbf EVER

her soft side comes out when any of the girls get injures, oh my gosh

she's the first to come to their aid and help them

and she's always there for them after the fact cus she knows how hard injuries can be when you play a support

she's there emotionally and talks them through it, makes sure that they know they're still part of the team injury or not, and of course that she loves them!!

AND she's very soft with the girls when they're going through stuff outside of basketball

relationship issues, family issues, drama within your friendgroup, baby girl is there to help them through it!!!!!

but she's not just like "therapist" friend, trust the team in return knows when theres something up w her and will do everything in their power to help her

and jump whoever hurt you

when manager gets her nails done, the team gets SOOO hurt bc they can't get theirs done bc of basketball so they get super mad at her (jokingly ofc)

so she just rubs it in their faces to get them angry LMAOOO, its very funny to witness

every once in a blue mood, manager will post a thrist trap and OH MY GOD

the entire team is in her comments hyping flirting with her up!!

and especially after uconn kinda blows up on tiktok, you bet those old thirst traps will make themselves into the damn edits

you and paige will hang out during that time and just look at edits while laughing your asses off (but paige is lowkey into yours cus she favorites them)

OOOO AND SHE FORGETS THAT THE EDITORS CAN SEE WHEN SHE SAVES THEM SO SHE JUST GETS EXPOSED AND EVERYONE'S JUST LIKE PAIGEEEE PLS 😭😭

i feel like there's def an edit with the audio "milkshake instrumental" bc everyone thinks u give off like... mean girl vibes

BUT EVERYONE FALLS IN LOVE WITH U BC OF IT, IF THAT MAKES IT???

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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cryptotheism · 1 year

Text

"What if you were hiking in the woods- Have you ever been hiking? Not like you stayed at a cabin in the mountains for the weekend, like you were staying out in the country, and you wandered out past your backyard. What if you were hiking, and you came across a labyrinth. You know, like a big maze. It's just you in the woods and this huge stone structure covered in vines and grass, and there's the entrance.

You gotta peek inside right? You gotta. You gotta look. Its huge. The walls are tall, and open to the sky, and there's plenty of light so you're not gonna get stuck in a cave-in. But you're not stupid, you were hiking so you brought some rope. So you tie one end to a tree outside the entrance and you go inside to see what you can find.

Its beautiful inside. Nothing crazy happens, there's no special energy in the air or monster or whatever, its just a beautiful place. Its warm and the birds are chirping and maybe some flowers are blooming. There's just this sense of wonder, you know, this powerful sense of wonder. But eventually you run out of rope, and you realize that this thing goes on way further than you thought it did.

So you head home, right? You head home and maybe you look up the name of your town and labyrinth on the internet. And there's nothing. There's nothing! There's like, sci-fi or fantasy stories, or weird pages about aliens or ghosts or whatever. But right before you're about to give up, you find like, an old message board or a deleted reddit comment about finding a weird labyrinth in the woods behind their house. So you read a bit more, and you realize that this dude is actually German, or Indian, or Kenyan or something. He's not talking about your labyrinth, but he might as well be.

So you message him, right? You're like 'hey! I found a maze thing just like yours, whats up with this?' and after a bit he responds like 'Dude, I don't know what's up with this fuckin' labyrinth. I don't know why people aren't talking about the labyrinths. But there's some old books about them, and there's like, a community of people who have found these things.

So you become a labyrinth guy. You start talking to other labyrinth guys. You learn about how they navigated theirs, how they discovered their labyrinths, and you exchange tips about how to navigate the labyrinths and speculate on why the damn things are even there to begin with. You learn that some of the other labyrinth guys are weirdos. Like, real freaks. Like nazis and stuff. But you're not an idiot, you know not to talk to those guys, but you also know to keep an eye on them.

You find a handful of dudes who you get along with. They've read a lot of the old books, and you all kinda vibe with each others theories on the labyrinths. And you get good at navigating the labyrinth. Like, really good at navigating the labyrinth. You're starting to map yours, getting a sense for how its designed. But there's people who are way better at it than you, like WAY better. There's people who have whole theories on what the design of their labyrinth suggests about the designers, and they have all these theories on the authors of the old books and their opinions on the labyrinths.

And then you like, you catch something. Its subtle, like, the sort of thing you wouldn't notice unless you spend all this time being a labyrinth guy. A few people have been talking about there being like, more layers. People say there's like, steps. Like, stairs that lead down or up or somewhere else. At first you were like 'this just sounds like more alien shit from the weirdo Nazis but there's a few people who have solid theories on there being entrances to something else that only happens in specific places in every maze. And it checks out, it really does check out, but in a way that you'd only notice if you were already a labyrinth guy.

And at this point, you know your labyrinth, you know it like the back of your hand. Like, you dream about your labyrinth and you know exactly where you are inside it. So you go. Like, you go to check it out. You do the math and check your maps and you spend a day walking around in the labyrinth. You find the place it should be, and you clear away some leaves and dirt and. Yeah. Sonofabitch is there.

But its not steps. Its not a spiral staircase or some kinda magic lift. Its a well. An old stone well. And its dark. It's really dark. You can tell it goes somewhere, but you can't tell where. But its there. It's there. That's what it's like."

"What's in the well?"

"I don't know. I haven't gone down the well yet."

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evilminji · 5 months

Text

Thinking About Ghost Writer's Library ( o.o)

Yeah, that's right folks! It's ya girl! Back on her bullshit, with PONDERING TIME. But like? GW? Is AT BEST? Somewhere around Victorian or Edwardian, given his aesthetic, right? And? Granted! It COULD be, he just vibes SUPER HARD with this Hot New Look(tm).

But like?

He is Baby.

They basically ALL are Baby. It's the... no, A(!) Baby area of the Zone. A place where sentient life is JUST sort of beginning to happen. On the COSMIC, INTERDIMENSIONAL, scale of things. What, after all, is a MERE few millenia? When the average is counting things by Eons? And even WORSE? When your ENTIRE COUNTRY and HISTORY is? What... CENTURIES?

Zygote. You are not but an infant. Back to daycare with you.

Which of course, leads the baby sitters. Even the occasional Adult. SOMEONES got to watch them. But it's not like THEY want to volunteer their eternity. They have Obsessions to follow. And there are A LOT of Baby Zone's to watch! More forming every day! The great dance of Life And Death etc etc, Yada yada!

Who's being punished? Make them do it! *Clockworks in long term plan*

But! Not the point here! Though fascinating to consider! The POINT? GW->Baby. His Library? Larger then then any Earth libraries, yes. But! Still SMALL. A BABY'S collection of books! Still growing. And for all his bragging and posturing? FAR from the Zone's BEST Library.

It likely doesn't even get to make the LONG FORM list.

Which Danny? Who is STILL banned? Quickly figures out. Because? Amity Library is... DECENT. It's working with the funding It's gotten dispite the damage ghost fights have done. Danny loves that library. He does. But... he also? Kinda has run out of things to READ.

And like HELL is he gonna BEG to enter GHOST WRITER'S Lair. Mister "Love Christmas or I'll torture you with it" can SUCK [REDACTED] and shove it up his [REDACTED BUT WITH VIOLENCE THIS TIME]. So? He asks, vaguely of course, Mr. Ho the librarian what he should do.

The man practically froths at the mouth at the thought that there is some BASTARD denying children books over PETTY PERSONAL BULLSHIT. Wants to meet this guy out back. "Talk books". Mr. Ho is like a bazillion years old and a tiny grandpa, he's amazing and Danny STILL kinda wants to be him when he grows up.

But since Danny won't let him deck Ghost Writer. He shows him how too look up other libraries in the area. Which... sparks An Idea(tm). He thanks his favorite librarian and races home. Makes a Bee Line for the Far Frozen.

Can he LOOK at the Infinity Map, Frostbite? He knows taking it is only for Important Events, but... why, you ask? Well...*explains*

Which is how he ends up, with a pen and paper, watching Trained Yeti Map Makers(tm) quickly sprawling out Map after Map, as Frostbite (who is apparently the only one AUTHORIZED to do this, who knew?) formally asks the Map in? Weirdly specific and oddly phrased ways, for the best libraries? Huh?

Ooooh! Frostbite is authorized because he's the only one TRAINED in the exact workings of the Map. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense. When Danny was using it, it dragged him at like Mach bajillion all over the place and he had to keep rephrasing things.

So? He can go now, right? Since he has the directions?

What do you mean "not quite"?

Danny finds out he needs an "Adult Escort". Because he is Baby. And much like children can not fly to Peru alone from halfway across the globe, so too, they can not LEAVE the baby zones to travel through Adult Territories where they could get Ended by accident, WITHOUT Adult supervision. Safety first!

D:< He just wants BOOKS!

Fine! Clockwork is old as BALLS! Older probably! He's LITERALLY TIME! How's THAT for OLD, huh?! Can he GO NOW!? He just wants to check out their ghostly sci-fi section! He's curious AF! He bets they have ALIEN Sci-fi! Come oooooooon!

Clockwork, of course, let's himself be dragged along. Because this is hilarious. AND going to terrify so, SO many assholes. Which is Funny :)

Danny gets his library card to *Unpronouncable without several neck bones humans do not have*, which is the size of Jupiter's BIGGER BROTHER. It isn't even the "Best" library. Just the closest. Danny has a manic... everything, the Fenton blood is strong with this one. So Many Booooooooks~!

And yeah, school books or whatever, probably a great learning resource.

BUT THE SCI-FI AND COMICS SECTION! It goes on for MILES! LITERAL MILES! *incoherent noises of joy*

Needless to say, the Librarians think he's ADORABLE. Such an eager reader! And so SMALL! A BABY! Look at his lil hands~! Be careful with the books, okay sweetie? Oh heck yeah! He WILL be!

And obviously? He gaurds those books with his LIFE. That's his Premium VIP Celebrity Gucci Bespoke Comics of The Multiverse Access! You'll have to pry it from his multi-dead, still smoking, Ended 5Ever hands!

The problem with THIS is?

Even with careful book covers? Those are CLEARLY glowing books. Like... day glow. Unnaturally glowing. The OTHER problem, is UNLIKE that baby GW? Adults can make their books multilingual. OMNILINGUAL. Is this book in French? Or Ainu? Yes. If it's YOUR language, then that's what you're reading in. Is it a bit clunky at times? With things that don't translate well, having to be explained in side notes? Yes. But better then not being able to read them at all!

And of course, comfort and repetition breed mistakes. You get too used to doing something. Forget you're supposed to be HIDING it. Maybe you go to college. Maybe the world moves on. You bring down a government agency with your friends. Become an infant king, much to the unspeakable alarm of the adults who SHOULD have been watching and protecting you. Maybe you have WORDS with them. Who's to say.

You're tired. It's been a long month.

You just want your coffee and a snacky lil treat. Something yummy for the you. Surely you've earned it, right? You've been good. So you take your sweet new alien sci-fi epic, your scrunkly feral Racoon lookin self, and you crawl like the half dying man you are. Towards the sweet relief of sugar and caffeine. Pride? You don't know her. Gib the coffee or you bite.

Unfortunately! There is some shitty "the Youth Today blah blah blah, let try and catch them of gaurd with loaded questions to prove my point and make a whole generation look dumb" reporter on campus. You see them out of the corner of your eye. They clearly think you are the weak link.

They are making their way towards you, mic raised.

Ah. Tragic, they have chosen death.

Before they can reach you, you raise your voice and not so much throw them under a bus, as drive the bus over THEM. Because THIS Coffee shop is the Punk hangout spot. And you've made casual friendly acquaintances with the six foot something, Sam clone from Scotland, whose life goal seems to be "Fight God".

And THESE fine folk DEFINITELY want an interview :) Have Fun, Thorn!

Needless to say, the clips go viral. With Danny sitting in the background, coffee and muffin achieved. Minding his business. Reading his glowing book. Which everyone ignores, on campus. Because EVERYONE knows Danny can make things glow! It's his weird minor power. Some lab accident in his teen years. NBD

But like... no body ELSE "knows" that. So it attracts attention.

Which would be FINE.... if he was reading an EARTH book.

But he's NOT.

And someone recognizes it.

Maybe it's Martian. Kryptonian. Could be Asgardian. Depends on the crossover you want! Because it could be ANY crossover! Lost books. Not just the Great Classics(tm) that people like to save. But the silly ones. The small ones. The equivalent of dime store novels and cheap drug store comics. Children's books. Banned books. The things Powerful People tried to erase from history itself. The things TIME tried to erase, with the fall of nations and the coming of war.

The destruction of worlds.

All of it there.

Imagine it. Standing on a planet, far from the world that was once your home, KNOWING in your heart that everything is gone. Everyone. That NOTHING but what you carry with you remains. And looking up one day to see, in the background of some average and silly video? Not "War and Peace" or "Great Expectations" or some other likely exported peice... but? Some youth reading that overly dramatic trashy sci-fi book that your cousins wouldn't stop raving about. The ones all the adults were SICK of hearing about.

It would NEVER have passed the bar for export.

It was silly and embarrassing but culturally significant.

It's... it's right there.

How?

Wouldn't the desperation that fills you be suffocating? Are there others? Is that an original? How is it here? How can he READ it? Who taught him? Who IS he? Is he one of us? Where? How? HOW?! Please. PLEASE!

And Danny? Would have no idea! :)c it's great~

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe

#dpxdc #dpxmarvel #dpxanybody #dp prompt #go nuts folks #minji ponderings

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