#i will figure it out on my own in the next few days as you practically ignore me and isolate me

[terry-perry]

okay I need some more alastor x Carmella’s daughter!

can we have an imagine this time of that situation?

"First the Princess of Hell, and now you've gone for one of Carmine's brats? You really have no shame, do you Alastor?"

Right on cue, Vox was ready to confront Alastor after the last Overlord gathering, not caring that everyone was still around to watch. It was just like the Vees to want an audience. Had it been anyone else, Alastor would've torn the obnoxious picture box to shreds and have his torment recorded for his next show. Vox wasn't worth the effort, however. In fact, Alastor knew of a better way to destroy him.

"My friend, there's no need for such jealousy," he started with the nonchalant tone he knew drove Vox crazy. "It's not my fault my natural charisma led to such powerful allies while all you can conjure up are underlings who do nothing more than feed your fragile ego."

That certainly struck a nerve since Vox began to grind his teeth as his stare grew more intense. Alastor simply stayed calm as he subtly carried a tone of smugness. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have lunch with my lady love, whom you will not disrespect again," This was the only time he chose to strike actual fear in Vox's heart as he switched to his Radio Demon persona by darkening his eyes and letting his figure grow into a form that better radiated evil. "Not unless you wish to be a new voice for my broadcast..."

Vox could only stare in bewildered silence as Alastor threatened him. The jab was bad enough, but the last statement stunned him enough to merely nod.

"Darling?" A third voice that differed with its femininity and lack of intensity came through. "Ready to go?" Y/N asked her boyfriend, bearing no mind that he was in almost full demon mode.

Alastor snapped his head around in her direction, calming down instantly. He supposed he made his point, and he was rather famished.

"Ready as always, my dear!" He replied, offering his arm to her which she happily accepted. "I know a lovely little bistro that serves excellent venison."

They walked past the still-emasculated Vox who was doing his best to refrain from buffering.

"Always fun catching up with you, old friend!"

----

Alastor would be lying if he said he wasn't caught off guard by Carmilla's sudden invitation to her home. She may have been Y/N's mother, but he rarely interacted with her sans a few polite greetings whenever they saw one another. According to Y/N, she did approve of him, it was just hard to gather since for every jovial "Hello!" he'd give her, she'd return with a small nod and acknowledging hum. It could be rather off-putting for someone like Alastor who thrived on other's reactions to all he did.

Some feared him, which always brought a certain giddiness within him that bordered on titillating. Some believed they could outmatch him in the battle of wits, which he was always ready for with a good put-down.

Months ago there was that precious giggle his dearest Y/N let out to alert him that she carried a torch for him. He knew right away that was something he could use to his advantage. Working with the heir to Hell's throne was already advantageous, but being involved with one of the daughters of an Overlord with the largest assembly of weapons in the city was something that could make his position all the more concrete. Pestering gnats like the Vees, even with their childish disrespect, knew opportunities like this don't just come every day. It was most likely why Vox tried to provoke him like he did.

So this was why Alastor had to be sure he had Carmilla's approval since it would cement him further in his current position. For someone who believed a smile could go a long way in keeping many guessing, he was certainly thrown off his game by her lack of expression. He could only hope this invite to whatever this was could keep things favorable for him.

Alastor was welcomed in by no one as the door opened on its own like always. He stepped into a large sitting room which contrasted with the one at the hotel as the latter was bright and rather tacky. The Carmine household was more gloomy, yet rather welcoming. He thought it was because the room he was directed to had walls completely covered in books. No doubt his bookish Y/N inhabited this room often, having the habit of sticking her nose in one. Currently, however, sat her mother in an armchair, staring passively at him like always.

"Alastor," Carmilla greeted him, waving him forward. "Glad you came. Please sit."

She gestured him to a sofa next to her seat that he accepted, along with the glass of bloodred wine she offered. Sadly it was just that - wine. It will have to do.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here so unexpectedly, without Y/N," she began, all business and direct, as always.

"If this is about my altercation with Vox this morning, I apologize," he said. He wasn't really sorry for putting the noisy picture box in his place, but whatever kept him in Carmilla's good graces. "As you know, he's an old acquaintance of mine. Things between us can get rather-"

She held up her hand to stop him before taking a sip of her wine. "That's not why I called you here. I've learned not to pay the Vees any mind long ago. No, I wish to speak to you about your relationship with Y/N."

At this, he kept his smile intact as always, but it held a certain wariness, a curiosity. He hoped she couldn't tell how he was preparing himself for whatever she could mean. She sat further back in her seat, studying him it seemed. When he chose to stay quiet, she continued. "I understand you're a busy person, as am I, so I'll do us both a favor and jump right to what I wish to discuss," without hesitation, she did just that. "I want you to marry Y/N."

Alastor could barely cover how he winced at that - the static emanating from him didn't help. Even with all the theories he conjured for this meeting, he didn't imagine this.

Carmilla must've noticed how she caught him by surprise since this was the first time he saw her look amused at the situation. She seemed to want to play with him since she took her time with her next sip before deciding to reassure him. "This doesn't need to happen any time soon," she said. "I don't expect you to get engaged tomorrow. I only want to give you my blessing if that's where you two end up. I find it beneficial for you to know beforehand because you're a businessman before anything else. You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"

Well, there was no use denying it, so Alastor shrugged. The wariness, however, remained. "Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come with a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"

Carmilla once more studied him stoically, which had Alastor's wide grin falter. "If I were in you, I'd do the same, I suppose. Which is why I know you'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her. If not, you'll go about your business like nothing. You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction. If any issues, deal with me. Are we clear?"

Oh, she was making this too easy. Alastor almost wanted to let out a cackle of triumphant laughter. Had she stuck out her hand to shake he would have. For now, he'd settle for the clinking of glasses that signified a toast.

One marriage, coming up!

#alastor #x reader #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #request #imagine #oneshot #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #radio demon #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla x reader #carmine!reader

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Fifteen

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: In a New Chapter

Summary: (Y/N), Marc, and Steven experience a new type of life.

Mouse Note: Thank you so much for reading Burden of Truth (Book 1)! I had so much fun sharing with everyone. Really, I loved writing this. I hope that more Moon Knight content comes out soon because I already miss these guys so much. But, for now, I must say goodbye. I have more content in other series coming, and I have other Father Figure stories, so, please, take a look if you liked this story! Until next time

            (Y/N) stepped out of the Great Pyramid. Their mind was their own. Their choices were their own. Their purpose was their own.

            The warmth of the rising sun greeted them as they stepped out, and (Y/N) took a deep breath. Fresh, free air greeted their lungs. For a moment, they just stood there, existing. That’s all they wanted to do, forever.

            “Hey. You alright, (Y/N)?”

            (Y/N) opened their eyes and looked at Layla. They grinned. “I’m great.”

            “You’re not an Avatar anymore, are you?” said Marc.

            (Y/N) shook their head. “No. Ma’at gave me a gift in thanks, and then she let me go.”

            “Nicer than Khonshu,” muttered Marc.

            Steven switched in. “What are you going to do now?”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t know.”

            “You’re not going to just…wander off alone, are you?” asked Steven worriedly.

            “…I don’t know what else to do,” said (Y/N).

            Layla scoffed. “No way are we letting you go off alone. You’re what, seventeen? No.”

            “What else do I do?” asked (Y/N).

            “Come back to London with me! And Marc!” said Steven instantly.

            (Y/N) blinked, and their heart warmed. “What?”

            “Layla is…going to be off doing Layla things, but we’re…we’re going to try to figure things out, Marc and I, between us. So we’re going back to London, to my flat,” said Steven, smiling.

            “I—You want me to?” whispered (Y/N) as if the spell of being wanted, belonging, would break if they spoke too loudly, no matter how honest Steven’s words were.

            Layla rolled her eyes. (Y/N) was apparently oblivious to how much Steven and Marc had become attached to them. “Of course they do.”

            “Come home with us,” said Steven.

            “Really?” They knew it was the truth, but it felt too impossible to accept. (Y/N) felt tears collect in their eyes, and their heart swelled with so much warmth it felt like they would burst.

            “We’re not leaving you alone, kid,” said Marc, switching to front. He pulled (Y/N) in and hugged them.

            (Y/N) let out a happy sob and grinned. They hugged back.

l

A few months later…

            (Y/N)’s eyes opened as sunlight warmed their skin. Rolling over, they looked out the window at the bustle of London below. They smiled.

            “Heya, are you awake, (Y/N)?”

            (Y/N) sat up as Steven poked his head into the room. “I’m up.”

            “Oh, good, I’m making pancakes. Want some?” said Steven.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Sure.”

            Steven grinned and nodded, leaving the room.

            (Y/N) got out of bed and changed into their day clothes. Pulling on a t-shirt and jeans, they looked in the mirror. They didn’t need to be prepared for thievery or fighting. They could just…be.

            Walking out of their room, (Y/N) walked to the kitchen portion of the flat.

            “Hey, Guses,” said (Y/N), picking up fish food and sprinkling it into the tank where two fish swam together.

            “Oh, yeah, we forgot to feed him this morning,” said Steven. “Thanks!”

            “No, I told you too, and you forgot,” said Marc from the mirror.

            “He’s cooking, so it’s alright,” said (Y/N), taking a plate from Steven.

            “He should make an omelet. You don’t get enough protein with him,” said Marc.

            “I make sure they do!” defended Steven, but there was nothing adversarial.

            “Marc, I cook for myself,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly. “You don’t have to worry.”

            “But I do,” said Marc, switching in and pulling out eggs to start cooking.

            (Y/N) laughed and smiled.

            “What are you doing today?” asked Marc, glancing at (Y/N).

            They paused and considered. “I don’t know.” And that was the honest truth. They grinned. “I’m going to walk around and see what interests me.”

            Marc’s gaze softened, and he smiled. “Alright. Just be careful.” He scooped eggs onto their plate. “And don’t forget, you and I are training later.”

            “Right,” said (Y/N), eating their pancakes and eggs. “I’ll be back at 4.”

            “Do you need pocket money?” said Steven from the reflection in the aquarium.

            (Y/N) shook their head. “I managed to save some money when I worked with Ma’at. I’m fine.”

            “Alright, but if you need anything, anything at all, you’ll tell us, right?” said Steven, fretting as usual.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I will. Thank you.” They stood, passed their plate to Marc, and picked up their messenger back—the first item they’d bought in London. It reminded them of what their parents brought with them. “Bye. I’ll see you later.”

            “Bye, kid,” said Marc, watching them go.

            The door slammed closed behind them, and Marc smiled.

            “We’re doing good, aren’t we?” said Steven, looking at Marc.

            “I hope so. They’re a good kid,” said Marc.

            “Yeah. I really like them. It’s kind of like…we’re a family, you know?” said Steven.

            “I know,” said Marc, his gaze softening. “I know.”

l

            (Y/N) hummed as they sat down at the café of a bookstore they’d happened upon. Opening their phone, they scrolled through the news. As usual, the first things that popped up were the latest moves of some of the newer superheroes on the scene, like the new, female Hulk or a girl fighting with crystal-like abilities in Jersey City.

            Leaving the news behind, (Y/N) clicked on their music and pressed play.

            “El Melouk” began to play through their earbuds, and they smiled, taking a sip of their coffee.

            “Look, look, look where we have been/and where we are now.”

            (Y/N) smiled.

            They had lost everything, but now, they were living. They had people they cared about. They had a home. (Y/N) even dared say they had a family.

            And (Y/N) had a chance to figure out who they were.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

@noodleryworld

#burden of truth #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #x teen!reader #x teen reader #found family #found family trope #father figure #platonic #platonic x reader #platonic moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight x teen!reader #moonknight x teen reader #moonknight #platonic moon knight #moon knight x teen!reader #moon knight x teen reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #marvel moon knight #marc spector #platonic marc spector #marc spector x teen reader #marc spector x teen!reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant

[astaraels]

so I know I'm in the no galladads side of the fandom but hear me out on this one—

so it's maybe five years after the end of the show, Ian and Mickey are still going with their security business, maybe they've even branched out and hired some extra help, making good money, swapped out the stolen ambulance for actual SUVs that Debbie has fixed up for them, and they've maybe even bought a house back on the South Side with a dog and a cat and they're close to all of Ian's siblings (Debbie and Carl and Liam all still live in the old Gallagher house, Lip and Tammi are a few blocks over)

and one day they're on a lunch break together, leaving some diner when some rando kid bumps into Ian, turns out it was a pickpocket, and Mickey takes off after the jerk who tried to steal from his husband (he may not be a South Side thug anymore but like hell is he gonna let that shit slide)

he knocks the pickpocket over and it's some kid, like thirteen or fourteen with bright pink streaks in her dark hair and fierce brown eyes, and Mickey is like wtf kid do you wanna die

and the kid is like oh fuck you, very much an angry kitten type because she's definitely a scrawny thing—by this time Ian's caught up to them and his bleeding heart is like look if you give me my wallet back I'll buy you lunch (Mickey complains that "we just ate, Gallagher" but Ian insists)

so they either go back to the diner or find some McDonald's and this kid practically inhales some burgers and fries, and both Mickey and Ian know the look of a kid on the streets, but she's giving off those vibes that say don't touch me don't talk to me don't fucking perceive me

but Ian probably sees something like Mickey, and Mandy, in this girl and we all know he wants to help people, so he asks her if she's okay or if she needs anything, and even though he can feel Mickey starting to grumble next to him Ian still offers her their couch to crash on after she mentions getting kicked out of a salvation army shelter because they found out she was trans

and after some very intense eye to eye communication between the husband Mickey's like okay yeah fine but if one thing is outta place in the house then we're gonna have words

and the girl—they find out her name is Starr, or something like that—is like wtf why are you people being nice (they understand the suspicion, obvs, they aren't stupid), and Ian's like uhhhh we're gay and we've gone through some shit of our own so maybe we just wanna help?? (although he does notice she relaxes a little bit when he tells her that they're gay)

so they drive back home and Starr is absolutely enamored by the gallapets (a beautiful fluffy black cat and a big pittie mix, both of these animals are Ian and Mickey's baby girls), while Ian fixes up the spare bedroom with fresh sheets—usually it's where Franny or Fred stay when they come for weekend visits

and at first Starr is like okay yeah I'll stay one night but then I gotta go, and somehow it ends up that one night turns into two, then Ian and Mickey come home one afternoon and the house looks amazing because Starr is like "yeah your place was a fucking mess so I figured I'd clean" because she's not a freeloader gdi

and before they know it she's been there for a few weeks and Ian's trying to help get her back in school, because one night they were sitting around and talking and she offhandedly said that she does kinda miss school but the last place she went they were assholes about her transition, and Mickey is like just do that homeschooling course thing that maybe Tammi talked about one of her bougie friends doing for their kids

and then it's been a month or two and they bring Starr to a Gallagher family get together—Debbie hosts the family at the house at least twice a month, but everyone's been super busy lately so it's been a while since the last family dinner—and Debs gives Starr a hug and is like "oh so you're the kid my brothers adopted" (she and Sandy worked things out btw and have been back together for a while now, they've even maybe talked about getting married)

and Starr is like oh no I'm just crashing for a bit but by this point Ian has already got her the homeschooling correspondence courses, and Mickey's taken her to find a doctor who can prescribe her HRT ("it was on our route anyway, fuck off, Gallagher") and their pets adore her—Ian jokes that their cat is the one who actually adopted Starr, they just went along with it

and basically I just love the idea of them taking care of a young queer girl, and being like the cool gay uncles, and yeah :')

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #maybe I'll put this on a to write list <3 #galladads #starr verse

[pillow-anime-talk]

HIII I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL

may i please request prompt 49 and 51 for William James Moriarty from mtp?

Like the reader is as smart as william and helps him with his plans and stuff and they both fall for each other but can't be together?

Thank you, have a great day!!

# tags: scenario; kinda lovers/enemies; unrequited love; light romance; mostly drama; also angst; reader as police inspector; mention of murder and blood; nsfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. william james moriarty {mtp}

author’s note: long time no see. sorry for that but thank you sm for your request; due to the rules i only chose the one number you asked for :) i hope you like it, love u all

49. “I told you this is how it ends.”

You looked with visible regret at the figure sitting across from you, on an uncomfortable chair in a cramped room lit by dim white light. Next to you stood your friend and co-worker, who is a five years older than you, and opposite your person, with a calm expression on his face, sat William, who just a few days ago was drinking tea with lemon with you, and today he was accused of murder. And with particular cruelty.

The young man, however, didn’t reveal anything; no sadness, no bitterness, his eyes showed no positive or negative emotion. Just plain emptiness, interspersed with the flash of a lamp above the three of you.

“What made you kill Sandy Moriarty, née Lonewood?” Asked a young policeman, also a profiler by profession. “She was your sister-in-law after all.” Your eyelid twitched with slight sadness. Sandy was Louis’ partner; they had been together for over two years. You even had the opportunity to meet her – she had foxy hair and calm eyes, and she was a talented painter. “Moriarty answer to me.” The uniformed man’s voice was low and firm. Unlike your expression: soft, full of despair.

“… Well. I had my own reasons, sir.”

“What reasons?”

“It’s all my business, sir.” Your co-worker just sighed, looking at the accused with a disbelieving expression. His nose wrinkled and the whiskers beneath it twitched slightly.

“Y/N, I’ll be right back. I’ll go get some papers and things. Keep an eye on him.” You only nodded at his words, never taking William out of your sight. His long blond hair fell unruly over his forehead and his chest slowly moved back and forth.

As soon as Alois left the small room, devoid of furniture and color, your hands trembled slightly and your eyes turned to the right wall.

“Who are you protecting, William? Tell me.”

“… For your safety, let it go. It’s not a matter of solving the mystery of who stole the little child’s candy and why. Just accept it all that it just had to be like that and let it go.”

“Why?” You repeated in a slightly more confident voice, and your eyes met the ruby ones.

“I told you this is how it ends.” He whispered. “I’m not from your world, Y/N. And I never will be. You wanted to protect me, I appreciate that, but it won’t always go your way. We’re too different.” He added, and after a while the door to the room let in a bit more cold and light. Your work partner stopped next to you again and threw a few photos and descriptions from the scene on the gray table, pursing his lips at the same time.

The photographs showed the silhouette of a woman in a beautiful yellow dress, with a large smear of scarlet blood and several bullets around her.

Whatever your intentions were, you certainly wouldn’t be able to help William anymore, who in your eyes at that moment was just a murderer hiding behind a mask of a calm smile and pale skin. Although your heart was obviously burning like a hot coal, you couldn’t do anything more than look at the photos and move one of them closer to the blonde male.

#—🎉 #quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 49 #moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot imagines #moriarty the patriot scenarios #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty imagines #yuukoku no moriarty scenarios #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william james moriarty imagines #william james moriarty scenarios #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #william james moriarty x y/n

[lentony]

Sitting at the next performance of his sweet Nelly, he once again could not take his eyes off the rink. The girl beckoned to him, to the veins swelling in his arms - he longed to have her at last. Today was the day he would succeed, when he would finally get to his unfortunate butterfly.

Richard knew her story by heart: her high school years, her rape scandal successfully hushed up by her parents, her attempts to whitewash herself. He knew about her reclusive lifestyle, how all the years after the incident Antonella Geli did not go out at all, almost no social networks, kept in mind her schedule: where, when and how she should perform. He was aware that instead of support, Nelly had received only condemnation, confinement and the legitimate fear of making an extra step aside. Realized that her father was a true tyrant. And how Richard is grateful to Georg Geli for such decisions, because this tyrant gave such a wonderful opportunity to become a real hero for one young girl. Instead of a full-fledged figure skating star, she became a recluse and a most mysterious figure to those unaware of her past. The Ice Queen.

Richard spent a colossal amount of time trying to figure out if she was right for his purposes. In doing so, he'd been charmed to his ears by this unfortunate image, her puppy dog gaze hidden behind a crust of cold ice. Oh, how Richard was in love with her broken destiny. And his own life had been changed in some ways by this girl, so why shouldn't the two of them be bound together for good?

Loud applause erupted throughout the ice arena. Nelly finished her performance with a resounding success, losing the sense of watching at all the next numbers of the ongoing show. They were of no interest to Richard - the man headed for the exit. His sweetheart should have already remembered about his arrival and was waiting near the dressing room. Clearly, he would give his lady some time to rest, let her tidy up before him, and prepare a bouquet of white lilies. Just as innocent, pristine white and beautiful. The same kind that are usually placed on the graves of the dead.

The girl was already waiting for him in the corridor, rubbing her thin, spidery fingers excitedly, not raising her eyes. How good it was to see her holy countenance so close. Richard had waited so long for this moment that he couldn't contain his own excitement, licking his parched lips. He had to be at his best. Tonight she would belong to him. - Good evening, Ms. Antonella," Richard said with a friendly smile.

The girl became a little nervous, shrank back. How sad to see her fear directed at him. However, the man was going to fix it, tame his wild doe. - Hello, Mr. Richard," Nelly curtsied and looked directly at him. Her eyes reflected all her feelings, they are called the mirror of the soul for a reason. - You performed wonderfully today, I couldn't take my eyes off you. To be honest, I'm a big fan of your work, - carefully handing the bouquet to the figure skater, he coughed, - but we are not here to exchange pleasantries. Ms. Antonella, I have a business proposal for you, which can help you out of your unenviable situation.

After a pause of a few seconds, Richard held out his hand to her:

-Become my consort.

#art #artists on tumblr #original character #artwork #didgitalillustration #digital artist #drawing #oc #illustration #illustrators on tumblr #oc art #small artist #oc artist #my art #tumblr draw #my draws #digitalart #digital art

[ohdeerfully]

alastor request HAI can it be based on the fact that alastor doesn't sleep, and it's his lover finding out that petting his ears during cuddling makes him fall asleep.

thank you for your service

yess i love sleepy alastor thank u so much anon :D!!

Goodmorning, Love

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You were well aware of the Radio Demon’s sleep habits. Or, well, lack of sleep habits. You often spent nights in his room, where he would sit with you in bed until you fell asleep and go do whatever the hell he gets up to late at night. You always woke up in an empty room, and often so in the middle of the night, struggling to rest again as a greedy tightness gripped your chest in worry and disappointment.

You understood, though, and tried your best not to let it get to you that you didn’t have his warm body next to you when you woke every morning. But you couldn’t help that twinge of sadness. You weren’t particularly needy or clingy, but would it kill him to stay in bed with you for a single night? And to have a slice of domestic bliss as you woke up?

Obviously. 

You roll your eyes as you lay, staring up at the ceiling. You had just gotten ready for bed, and now waited for said demon to join you for a few hours. Your fingers tapped, impatient, against your chest as you hummed absentmindedly.

“How lovely,” You heard him speak. Tickles of that radio static that always followed him clung to your exposed skin, which was signal enough that he had entered the room had he not announced himself. “What a siren you are, luring me here with that hum of yours.”

You smiled slightly at his comment, scooching over slightly to encourage him over. He obliged, joining you under the covers. He still wore his usual outfit, which made sense considering his tendency to go away all night. You purse your lips at the thought, slightly chewing on the skin.

“Why the face?” Of course he noticed your expression. He always noticed when any emotion tickled your face. You appreciated the genuine tone in his voice, the typical buzz of radio barely detectable in his words. He always got a little softer and kinder when he was alone with you like this.

You appreciated nights with him, being able to see a side of him that nobody else would live to spread word of. You enjoyed feeling a little special, especially to somebody like him.

“Do you think you could stay in,” You asked cautiously, fiddling with your hands as you inched closer to him, pressing your body against his. Even laying, he still seemed much taller than you. You gingerly guided his head down, against your chest as you spoke, hoping the multitasking would keep him from sitting up and rejecting your intimate gestures. “Just for a night. I miss you all night long.”

He allowed his head to lay against you. He did feel tense, of course, letting the back of his head be exposed in this manner as he lay vulnerable on you. It was a strange feeling, but not one he cared to consider for too long. 

“(Y/N),” He began with a sigh. “It’s impossible for me to get much done during the day, what with all the running around Charlie does. Somebody has to keep an eye on that young princess. I prefer to stay awake to get my own errands done at night.” 

I know that, you wanted to say and interrupt his explanatory ramble. You wanted to beg him to understand, just this once. You held in a sigh, watching as his head gently rose and fell with every breath you took. Maybe you should just take this submission from him as good enough.

You gingerly began tangling your fingers through his red hair, brushing out any kinks he may have gotten throughout the day. His tense body seemed to ease slightly, becoming more and more relaxed as you weaved your fingers through the locks.

“You have really soft hair, Al,” You commented, changing the subject. You figured there was no use convincing him. You let your fingers lightly trail upwards, up to his ears. You grazed them slightly with a finger. You touched again. When he made no motion of dislike, you fully began rubbing them. Petting him. You smiled to yourself at the idea of petting the feared Radio Demon. “And your ears are even softer.”

“I try to take care of myself,” He responded proudly. There was another hint of something in his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. But it seemed heavy. “A well groomed man is a successful one.” You absentmindedly agreed as you stroked the velvety fur of his ears, switching back and forth between them and his hair. You had a preference for the ears, though.

You sighed and began humming quietly again. He rarely got so… comfortable, even around you. He always had some sort of guard up, always had his shoulders squared. He almost never became so… loose and vulnerable.

You noticed the clippings of radio frequency had stopped, which was a noise that was ever present in his wake. You had a suspicion why it disappeared, a small grin forming on your face.

Yes, the Radio Demon never slept. But that was a choice he made, not a curse that prevented him. Even demons get tired. You don’t know how Alastor makes it day by day without a wink of rest, but it was apparent that exhaustion had built up in him. He just needed to relax for a second.

You graced your fingers over his fringe, and craned your neck in a way to get a glance at his face. Yeah, you were right. 

He laid there, eyes shut, features relaxed with the lightest grin playing on his face. Even in sleep, you complained. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the sound of his deep, slow breathing and occasional twitch of his velvety ears. You briefly wondered what the Radio Demon would dream about.

Would he be aggravated with you when he woke up, realizing you had practically cast a sleep spell on him? You didn’t, but the rate of which exhaustion took over may as well have been some sort of magic.

You shut your own heavy eyes, exhaling lightly as you continued to comfort yourself with the texture of his fur and hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You craned your arms and neck as consciousness came back to you, but an unfamiliar weight kept you from getting that good stretch in. Momentarily confused, you blinked open and looked down.

Red and black hair, more of a mess than usual, still took place on your torso. This was a first, and your chest felt like exploding with the glee of seeing Alastor still resting with you. He somehow looked even more relaxed than the night before, his cheek flush against your stomach, squishing his lips up slightly. A light grin was still there.

You gently brushed your fingers over his face, trailing a line around his features with an index finger. His eyes squeezed for a moment, and that static ambience of his slowly, quietly, returned. It was a noise that you had learned to find comfort in. He slowly opened his red eyes, a confused and sleepy daze clouding them. There was a wrinkle in his brow as he roughly propped himself up with an elbow, looking up at you with a furrowed expression.

“(Y/N)..?” He trailed, pausing to take in a shuddering morning yawn through a confused smirk. “Did I… Dear, what time is it?”

You looked at him tenderly. Oh, how cute he was, sleepy like this. Composed like an exhausted kid. Something even you have never seen before.

“Yeah,” You responded to his unspoken question. “It’s probably seven a.m. or so. I dunno.” There wasn’t a clock in your immediate line of sight.” “A.m. …” He said slowly. He sat up fully, looking down in disappointment at his wrinkled day wear. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes and managed to bring some composure to himself, but that lick of exhaustion was still prominent. Especially under his eyes.

“Yeah,” You said again, a light chuckle following. “Goodmorning, Al.”

He wasn’t obviously upset, it seemed. Though he probably was too tired to think about it too much yet. Maybe later.

“Well… Goodmorning, love.” He responded, still with a hint of confusion in his voice. “I suppose I accepted your plea from last night.” He brushed at his clothes while he spoke, trying to flatten out the creases that were brought on through a night of rest.

“Maybe more often?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation. You already knew the answer, but it was okay. You knew how to keep him in now. You mischievously smirked as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Unlikely.”

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #ohdeerfully #alastor is eepy #fluff

[inkskinned]

kids remind me, often, of the things i've taught myself out of.

i have a big dog. he looks like a deer. he is taller than most young children. while we were on a trail the other day, a boy coming our direction saw us and froze. he took a step back and said: "i'm feeling nervous. your - your dog is kind of big."

goblin and i both stopped walking immediately. "he is kind of a big dog," i admitted. "he's called a greyhound. they are gentle but they are pretty tall, which is kind of scary, you're right. their legs are so long because they are made for running fast. i am sorry we scared you. would you like us to stand still while you move past us, or would you feel more safe in your body if we move and you stay still?'

"oh. i didn't know that about - greyhounds. i think i ... i want to stay still," he said. at this point, his adult had caught up to us. "i'm nervous about the dog," he told her, "so i'm - i'm gonna stay still." she didn't argue. she didn't make fun of him. she just smiled at him and at me and held his hand while goblin and i, with as wide of a berth as we could make, crept our way through.

behind us, i heard him exhale a deep breath and kind of laugh - "he was really big, huh? she said it's because greyhounds have to go fast."

"he was big," she said. "i understand why that could have made you a little scared."

"yeah. next time i - next time do you think i could maybe ask to touch him? when - i mean, next time, maybe, if i'm not nervous."

later, going to a work event, in the big city, i stood outside, trembling. my social anxiety as a caught bird in my chest. i took a deep breath and turned to my coworker. she's not even really my friend yet. i told her: "i feel nervous about this. i am not used to meeting new people, ever since covid."

she laughed, but not in a mean way. she said she was nervous too. she reached her hand out and held mine, and we both took another deep breath and walked in like that, interlinked. a few people asked us - together? - and i told the truth: i feel nervous, and she's helping. over and over i watched people relax too, admitting i feel really kind of shy lately actually, thank you for saying that.

the next time i go to an event, and i feel a little scared, i ask right away: wanna hold hands? this feels a little dangerous. i hesitate less. i don't hide it as much. i watch for other people who are also nervous and say - it's kinda hard, huh?

i know, logically, i'm not good at asking for help. but i am also not good at noticing when i need help. i've trained myself out of asking completely, but i've also trained myself to never accept my own fears or excuses. i have trained myself to tamp down every anxiety and just-push-through. i don't know what i'm protecting myself from - just that i never think to admit it to anyone.

but every person on earth occasionally needs comfort. every person on earth occasionally needs connection. many of us were taught independence is the same thing as never needing anything.

each of us should have had an adult who heard - i feel nervous and held our hand and asked us how we could be helped to feel safe. no judgement, and no chiding. many of us did not. many of us were punished for the ways that we seemed "weak".

but here is something: i am an adult now. and i get nervous a lot, actually. and if you are an adult and you are feeling a little nervous - come talk to me. we can hold hands and figure out what will help us feel safe in our bodies. and maybe, next time, if we're brave, we can pet the dog that's passing.

#spilled ink #warm up #so i have worked in childcare as a teacher for like 15 years #hence the language behind ''what helps you be safe in your body?'' #like you can tell by what i say here i have EXPERIENCE with kids. #but tbh the REAL teacher moment is watching a 6/7 year old say #''this makes me nervous #can you please not come closer?'' #as a teacher i was IMMEDIATELY like ... ahh whomever is raising you is doing an EXCELLENT job holy shit #verbalizing your fears? trusting an adult to listen? #ability to recognize a way you might feel safer? #like .... this kid's caregivers.... that one moment... i was like .... who are u i wanna french kiss you big on the mouth

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

[wooahaes]

skz - forgetting to kiss them

pairing: non-idol!skz x gn!reader

prompt: u forget to kiss them hello when u come home

genre: fluff!! just silly fluff

warnings: food mentions :3 + intentional lowercase & no proofreading.

daisy's notes: couldnt b me. id never stop greeting them w kisses. no one look at how long jisung's is i was particularly delulu when i wrote it

bang chan

chris noticed... almost immediately that was off about you. the embarrassing part was that it was partially due to the fact you didn't greet him with your usual "hi, i'm home" kiss.

it wasn't that chris looked forward to that kiss (he did, but that wasn't the point). he liked to think he was just... attuned to you. that he could feel the general vibe you had whenever you entered a room. he wasn't missing your "i'm home" kiss--he was merely noticing that you weren't feeling great. that something was weighing on your mind. so he called out as he heard you go back to the kitchen to get something to drink, asking about your day.

immediately, he heard you let out a long sigh. "work was awful and then i missed my bus so i had to take a cab."

chris nodded. "ah. gotcha."

you made your way over, sitting down next to him. "... did i do something?" you looked over toward the door, trying to retrace your steps. you hadn't slammed the door, and you hadn't been too late coming home...

"nah!" he looked over, "i mean, you kinda didn't give me a kiss when you came home. figured something was wrong."

you stared at him for a moment. did you really always give him a kiss when you came home? you liked to, because it was your own little way of saying "hi, i missed you," to him with just a quick peck. after a moment, you leaned in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips before planting another on his lips proper.

"there," you giggled. "is that better?"

judging by the way chris giggled back, pulling you in for a third... maybe not. (but it wasn't as if you were going to complain.)

lee minho

usually, minho didn't mind whether you kissed him or not. he'd always enjoy your kisses, and found it endearing that you pressed a quick kiss against his lips whenever you came home, but he never asked nor would he ever force you to do it. sometimes he'd kiss you as a greeting, though, just because he liked to see your smile.

other times, when he was feeling a little more devious... he'd call out to you, just like he did tonight. "you forgot something!"

you came back into the room, shirt half-unbuttoned as you'd been in the middle of changing. you furrowed your brow, pouting a little as you tried to figure out what was wrong.

he just smiled at you. "you did."

a moment later, it hit you. you snorted, and made your way over, pulling him in for a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than the usual one you usually gave him. your hands fell to his shoulders, and you drew back. "there. is that better?"

"i missed you," he giggled. "is that so wrong?"

you rolled your eyes, and gave him another peck on the tip of his nose. "love you, too, you dork," you said, pulling away from him to go change.

(and the sound of your laugh as you continued away despite the way he lunged to grab at you, just barely missing your ass... all minho could do was smile to himself.)

seo changbin

changbin was a reasonable guy. he waited a reasonable amount of time (ten minutes: you said you weren't going to shower or anything yet) before approaching you in the kitchen. "are you mad?"

you looked up from where you were working on dinner. he was so genuine about the question, and it threw you for a loop. had you done something to imply that you were...? all you did was get started on dinner because it was your night to cook. "what?"

"we always talk about these things," he said with a sigh. he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, eyes bearing into your own, "did i do something? you can tell me if i did. it's okay."

"binnie, honey, i have no idea what you're talking about."

"really?" he frowned, and gave you this look of disbelief. "you always give me a kiss when you come home, and today, you didn't. do i need to run to the store? did i forget something--"

oh! you almost laughed at how adorable he could be sometimes. "nope," you said, reaching forward to pull him in. "just got distracted when i got home." ever so casually, you kissed him, and planted an extra on the corner of his mouth. "good to know you'd miss my kisses, though."

changbin just pulled you in again with a giggle, content to steal a few more from you before he let you go... for now.

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin didn't notice at first. he'd been curled up on the couch with a book when you came home, carrying a few bags of groceries that you insisted on handling yourself since they were for tonight's dinner. it was your night to cook after all, and--after asking to make sure you didn't want help--he settled back into his spot.

and then it hit him eventually: you... didn't kiss him when you came home. why didn't you kiss him? you always went out of your way to do it, after all. he leaned up, looking over to where he could see you deeply concentrating on the recipe you were reading. then again, you had set down the groceries and lounged around for a little bit first--the two of you had even talked during that. maybe you were mad at him? he knew he'd been petty about things before and denied you kisses as a result. maybe he was the one who was supposed buy groceries...? but you didn't give him a list or text him anything...

"honey?" he called out.

immediately, it caught you attention. 'honey' wasn't really his usual term of endearment for some reason: you were always his love, his baby. "what's wrong?"

his face grew warmer--was it really that concerning? "nothing--" he started, but realized that you only grew more concerned. "you didn't kiss me when you came home."

"oh."

he decided to keep going, "did i do something--"

"if you want it," you cut him off, "then come get it."

he just stared at you. "... what?"

"i was thinking about dinner," you said, turning back to what you were cooking. "but if you want that kiss, you'll have to come get it."

hyunjin found himself smiling, pushing aside his blanket and the book to get up and make his way over to you. he kissed you, smiling into it as well, as his hands fell to rest on your waist.

all better.

han jisung

jisung was not afraid to admit that he was deeply in love with you. and sometimes... that meant he'd overthink the little things. his heart was so full of devotion to you that sometimes he'd get too deep in his own head, trying not to do anything to wrong you. of course, he knew you, and he knew that you'd always accommodate him by telling him things outright. if he hurt you, you pointed it out and asked for space so that the two of you talk things out properly when both of you were ready for it. but today you were sitting at the other end of the couch, a pillow hugged against your chest as the two of you watched TV. or, well, you watched TV. jisung was watching you.

"hey." his foot bumped against your leg. "did something happen today?"

you tore your gaze away from the screen, brows drawing together. "no?" yet you continued to watch him for a moment, eyes scanning his face for anything that would give him away. "are you okay?"

he nodded. even that confused 'no?' was enough to soothe his thoughts. you would be honest with him, after all: that was what the two of you did. he settled into the couch. "i'm fine," he said, hoping it sounded casual enough.

yet you tilted your head, as if trying to get a better look at him. "baby?" you set the pillow onto the floor, moving a little closer. "did i forget something?"

he grew flustered immediately. "it's okay--it's not a big deal--"

"ohh," you lit up, smiling as you already knew. he liked the twinkle in your eyes whenever you knew something. "i know what it was." you crawled over to him, teasing him a little, "my jisungie didn't get his kiss today--"

he found himself unable to fight back a smile. "it's not a big deal, honey--"

"nope!" you giggled, and practically launched yourself at him. he'd end up pinned against the couch, "gotta make up for it with extra kisses for worrying my jisungie."

god, he loved you. you peppered kisses all over his face despite his laughter, slightly pushing back against where your hands were at his wrists to try and re-ground himself better against the couch, yet you didn't let go. sure, maybe you were hamming it up and acting extra cute for him... but he knew what this was. it was a message, loud and clear, that you cared about him wholeheartedly. you knew he could get anxious sometimes, especially when it came to potentially accidentally upsetting you. 'i want to make you happy' was what you told him once. he hoped you could feel the way he smiled into the soft kiss you pressed against his lips. when you drew back, you just stayed there, hovering over him and admiring how the glow of happiness looked on him.

"i'm home," you said.

jisung just brushed a stray strand of hair away. yeah... you are his home.

lee felix

as much as felix wanted to whine at you playfully for forgetting to kiss him when you came home (a staple of your relationship, he'd joke)... he couldn't help but worry. he continued to work at dinner, mentally going over your interactions today. he knew you well enough to know that he hadn't done anything to upset you unless you were having an off day where everything annoyed you (no shame in it, he thought; he had those days, too). it wasn't until after he finished making dinner that he called out to you.

"did something happen today?"

you looked up, brows drawn together, but he could see the fatigue on your face from stressing about something. "no?"

he set aside what he was doing, making his way over to where you were sitting, laptop open in front of you. you changed tabs immediately away from whatever you were doing for work right as felix began to knead at your shoulders.

"this is cheating," you whined, head dipping back so you could see his face.

"and i'd do it again," he said, dipping down to plant a quick peck against your forehead. "you can talk if you need to. i don't mind listening."

with a sigh, you shut your eyes while felix continued to massage your shoulders. sure enough, there was someone you had to deal with at work that had annoyed you enough that you were still running through the conversations hours later. he just stood there, listening and nodding along as he continued to work his magic on your tense muscles.

when you finished, he leaned down to press another quick kiss against your lips. "feeling better?"

"a lot, actually," you sat straighter in your chair, reaching forward to close your laptop. "thank you, lixie."

kim seungmin

seungmin had sat on the couch for too damn long, pretending that everything was fine. yes, you didn't kiss him when you came home, but that didn't mean anything. clearly, it didn't mean anything. except maybe you were mad at him, and you were withholding a stupid kiss because of it instead of talking it out like adults. that was what the two of you agreed on: no going to bed mad. to say that you were mad and needed space. not... whatever this is.

"seungmin?" you had sat down at the other end of the couch. "what's eating you?"

his eyes were a little too sharp when he looked at you, frustration all too evident on his face when he was supposed to be hiding it. "that's what i should be asking you."

and then... genuine, unfiltered confusion. your brows drew together as you watched him, smile falling. oh.

fuck. you weren't mad at him.

"never mind," he says quickly, "it's stupid--"

you moved over so that you could reach out and take one of his hands in your own, "seungminnie, it's not stupid if it's bothering you!"

ah. using cuteness to get what you wanted. unfair. "you didn't kiss me when you came home like you always do, so i thought you were mad. so then i got made because we agreed to always talk things out."

immediately, you giggled. "aw, seungmin... you really like my kisses that much?"

when you leaned forward to kiss him, he immediately shrank away, trying to block your mouth from his own. "no! not now! it's not the same now!"

yet your laugh was enough to make him drop the act. your lips pressed against his, and he smiled into the kiss, happy to have your arms around him... even if you'd never let him live this down.

yang jeongin

jeongin considered himself one of the more mature people in his friend group. sure, he could be silly and goof off sometimes, but he'd heard his other friends with partners complain about the tiniest things that turned out to be nothing. so with you, he felt a little comfortable in assuming that your "i'm home" kiss just slipped your mind. you'd texted him your bus was running late, so he'd decided to make you a cup of tea for when you came in. and when you threw yourself onto the couch, saying nothing to him for a while...

well, jeongin had a pretty strong feeling that you needed someone to listen to you instead. he'd sat down next to you, passing you the mug as he leaned in to press a quick peck against your lips. his own little "welcome home" kiss that he'd try to greet you with sometimes, if given the chance.

"do you want to talk about it?"

he watched as you took a long sip of tea, letting out a sigh once you'd set the mug down. "work sucked."

jeongin nodded. "and your bus was late..."

another heavy sigh. you turned your face to look at him, reaching for his hand. he gave it to you without any teasing, and watched as you pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

"are you sure it's fine for me to unload all of this on you?"

"that's what i'm here for," he hummed, sliding in a little closer so that he could draw you closer. "you listen to me, right?"

the hint of a smile ghosted over your lips, and jeongin watched as you settled in, head resting on his shoulder. "right..."

he just pressed another kiss into your hair as you launched into telling him about your day. no need for you to worry about giving him any 'i'm home' kisses: jeongin would supply you with as many 'welcome home' kisses as you needed to make you smile again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

#wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader

[highvern]

Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 

So you go as late as possible. 

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.” 

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt. 

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!” 

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.” 

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.” 

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.” 

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

[4theitgirls]

study methods

the second brain method

this method focuses on organizing the information you learn to maximize effectiveness. a common way of doing this is through the CODE method:

capture - be quick and efficient in how you receive the information

organize - organize the information in a way that works for you

distill - break the information down to its key elements

express - apply the information you’ve learned

* there is a ton of information out there about this method. if you struggle with burnout and knowing where to start, i recommend researching this method further to figure out what works for you.

the pomodoro method

the pomodoro method is a time management method. the most common expression of this method is to pick a task, work for 25 minutes on that task, then take a break for 5 minutes. then, repeat. if you’re planning to work all day, you may up the time spent studying. for example, after a while of this, you may work for 30 minutes at a time, then 40, then 45, and so forth. this method is particularly good for when you’re feeling unmotivated or having a hard time focusing. if you’re still not feeling it after a while, you may start to take longer breaks. for example, you may study for 30 minutes, break for 15, and keep going like that.

the 5 minute rule method

this method is good for when you have to do a shorter task, but you’re procrastinating doing it. this method requires you to dedicate only 5 minutes to do your task. after that, you may stop, but chances are, once you’ve started, finishing won’t be as difficult.

the blurting method

this method is particularly good for revision. the blurting method requires you to read over the content you are learning, then put it away and write down everything you know or can remember. then, check the content and revise everything you didn’t write down.

spaced repetition

spaced repetition requires you to spread out your study reviews over the period of a few days. this has been shown to improve memory. rather than studying one thing at a time, then studying something else the next day and so on, review the information right after you’ve learned it, then recall it after a few hours, then a few days, then a few weeks, and so on. if you’re studying something you will need to remember for an extended period of time, this method would be perfect for you!

active recall

this is my absolute favorite method! it’s been shown to improve your studying immensely and so many people have benefited from practicing active recall. active recall involves retrieving information from your brain, usually done through questions. a good way to do this is to explain the concept to yourself, to someone else, or act like you’re doing a presentation on the subject. after you’ve recalled all of the information you know about the subject, go over your material again and be sure you covered everything and explained everything the best way you could. if you didn’t, review everything you did not remember or got wrong, and go again. do this until you get everything. doing this can also be referred to as the feynman technique.

the SQ3r method

survey - skim your text and identify bolded text, headers, images, etc.

question - generate questions about the text based on what you surveyed. what are the key concepts in this text? what is each paragraph about? what information do i need to take away from this text?

read - read through the entire text and answer the questions you created

recite - summarize what you learned in your own words

review - recall the key concepts and answers to your questions

#girlblog #girlblogger #dream girl #girlblogging #that girl #self care #self love #glow up #it girl #becoming that girl #self development #self improvement #study #study tips #study blog #studyspo #study aesthetic #studyblr #study motivation #studyinspo #motivation #productivity #school #romanticizing school #academic validation #academia #pink academia #pink #academia aesthetic #light academia

[angelltheninth]

Hey idk if you take requests for monster lovers, but I liked the werewolf one so I would like to request one if possible! Can you write something where reader stumbles upon an abandoned castle and she meets the owner of the castle who is a vampire? Normally he wouldn’t tolerate trespassers, but he’s been very lonely these past decades and the new person is rather cute…

Omg this reminds me of Dracula and Lisa! I loved them in Castlevania.

Pairing: Male!Vampire x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, meet scary, first meeting, crushes, falling in love, domestic fluff, touch starved, kissing, neck kissing, drinking blood

A/N: Here's the thing about vampire bites in my headcanon, they actually feel really good when they're from a vampire you're in love with.

Touch-starved!Vampire who closes his doors to everyone, turning them away, scaring them or if they're really stubborn he will drain them of their blood entirely for bothering him too much. He doesn't want anything to do with... well anyone really. He's happy being on his own, for the most part. Or so he thought.

Touch-starved!Vampire who sees you lost near his castle and at first he wants to shoo you away like everyone else. He sends his bats to do the job. But... you're not scared of them. You think they're cute. Oh. Now that he looks at you again, you're pretty cute too.

Touch-starved!Vampire who doesn't know how you'll react to seeing his fangs so he keeps his hand over his mouth until you move it away for him. Are you actually curious about them? Most people scream bloody murder when they see them. Then again they more then likely to end up dead moments after so it's justified.

Touch-starved!Vampire who can't believe how warm your hands are on his cheeks. He's felt humans before but he never let them get close quite like this. Is he cold for you? If you follow him to the castle he can stand next to the fireplace if that would make you more comfortable.

Touch-starved!Vampire who doesn't understand what the hell is happening to him right now. He's rarely felt like this even around his own species, let alone a human woman. Very curious. He'll have to keep you around more, or at least have you visit more often until he figures it out.

Touch-starved!Vampire who can smell when you're approaching his castle and waits for you at the door, offering you his hand to welcome you in. This becomes something of a routine for you two, so much so that your friends ask about the handsome new man who walks you home every night. Very late at night, or just before the sun rises.

Touch-starved!Vampire who loves it when you eat in front if him. He doesn't eat human food, or rather he doesn't need to, but if he knows that you're the one who made it then he will try it. He will even let you use his very underutilized kitchen and cook with you just to be close to you.

Touch-starved!Vampire who panics when you cut your finger. He will leave if you want him too, he will get you first aid supplies too. He can't control the fact that his fangs elongate when he smells how good you are but its in his nature, so hopefully you don't hold it against him.

Touch-starved!Vampire who stumbles over his feet when you offer him your neck. Understand that for him this will be a big step in your relationship, a new dynamic. Are you sure you want to take this step with him? Because if not he would still love to have you around, your company is always welcome in his castle.

Touch-starved!Vampire who moans when he gets to taste your blood for the first time. He feed a few days ago but it wasn't like this. Is this... yes, he knows now, he's in love with you and from the noise you made when his fangs pierced your skin and how you're pressing against him and sighing contently he would say you feel the same.

#vampire x reader #vampire x human #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x girl #monster x you #terato #vampire imagine #vampire headcanons #vampire fluff #monster imagine #monster headcanons #monster fluff #vampire boyfriend #monster boyfriend #x female reader

[yuri-is-online]

Why So Rude? (Or Yuu's BF Asks Crewel for their Hand in Marriage and What Happens Next Will Shock You)

For legal reasons, this is a joke. I have been dealing with a health issue of sorts (i am not dying so no worrying ok? just v annoyed) so writing longer stuff is escaping me at the moment, enjoy some crack while I take a breather. More can be found on my masterlist here.

NO (FLOYD, Rook, and Malleus)

Crewel has been in denial about this "relationship" since it started. Not that his disapproval is really going to stop Floyd, but Crewel 100% refers to him as "Yuu's ex boyfriend" much to the confusion of... everyone who hears that. They do find some common ground in their shared interest in fashion, but Crewel has never forgiven him for his behavior in his class OR his "stealing" Yuu's heart.

Rook on the other hand he didn't have too much of an issue with until he realized just how familiar he seemed to be with his home for someone who had supposedly only been there to visit you. The twenty page letter he wrote to confess his feelings to you didn't help either once he saw the few lines where Rook wrote about the beauty of your finger prints, but he knows his disapproval means very little to someone as obsessed with romance as Rook.

Malleus... is the King of a country genuinely hostile to humans and Crewel thinks he is a little too obsessed with Yuu for his own good. He is also not a fan of how condescending Malleus is towards his disapproval, but it's an issue that will be worked out eventually. They are fighting out of love for the same person, your safety and happiness is all they really care about at the end of the day.

No, but as a joke (Sebek and Jack)

I don't think he has anything against him really, he just wants to see how important tradition and the opinion of his elders actually is to him. When Sebek begins to plead his case because he does not wish to put a wedge between Yuu and their father figure, but cannot deny his feelings for Yuu Crewel's more than happy to "change his mind." He knows you will be happy and well looked after.

Jack is a solid partner, and he is a wolf beastman who speaks of Yuu as his soulmate, his one and only, his eternal life partner and- well. Crewel just can't resist a bit of teasing, he's always been so serious and easy to fluster about these sort of things. The sheepish look on his face when he realizes Crewel has been teasing him makes it very worth it.

I can't stop you can I... (Leona, Kalim, and Rollo)

While Crewel has faith that Leona has what it takes to save his home- he lives in the Sunset Savannah. That is really far away from the Queendom of Roses ( ; ω ; ) have some pity on your poor father he can't travel that far all the time it's bad for his skin. The pressures of being the partner of royalty is something he worries over, but a smug promise from Leona to protect you soothes his worries somewhat.

The flippant way Kalim talks about the assassination attempts is not the way Crewel wants to hear about attempts on your life or heaven forbid your death. Kalim is very sympathetic to this, he has no real argument against how ignorant he was in the past, but he isn't a child anymore. Just filled with a childlike love for the world and determination to make it better. It is hard to say no to that.

Rollo is too much like Trein. His request for your hand in marriage feels like something that the old man would cry tears of genuine joy over, so of course he hates it. Unfortunately he also knows how much this teen grandfather matters to you or whatever so the answer will be yes. At least he has an excuse to visit Fleur City more now.

Give me one good reason. (Azul, Jade, Idia, and Lilia)

Azul was such a good student that he should have zero complaints that you started dating. But he also isn't blind and dislikes being pandered to, which is very much what Azul is doing here. He does wonder briefly if this is a cultural thing and he is being insensitive, but he is still exasperated enough to not immediately say yes. The strange twinkle that comes to Azul's eyes at the prospect of negotiations makes him wish he had though.

Speaking of not being blind, what does the Leech family do and is it legal? Survey says probably yes, but Crewel remembers dealing with Jade's parents while he was in school and has no desire to feed his child to the shar- err eels. Jade immediately begins to sniffle, oh how could Crewel say such bad things about him? A poor innocent eel and blah blah blah. If Jade wasn't such a good partner he'd be cooked.

Crewel understands and appreciates the effort Idia has put in to his personal growth and he has no desire to shit on that... but S.T.Y.X. and the secrecy around it is no joke. He wants to continue having a relationship with Yuu and as soon as Idia reassures him of that he has no more objections.

Lilia is an old man, a war criminal, and a father. Of course Crewel has seen how he was able to live as a student while at NRC but his own credit as a father would be under fire if he didn't object mildly. Lilia has some fun with it and has a bit more respect for him for objecting. So long as the eventual answer is yes.

Yes (Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, and Epel)

While Crewel does have some red flag concerns concerning Riddle's mother, he has no real objections to Riddle himself. He is a perfect gentlemen and the correct amount of nervous to be asking the question. He gets full marks, as if there would ever be any other outcome.

Trey is that sort of solid option that parents really love, but he also has that tight personal relationship with Crewel from his Science Club days. He lives in the Queendom and is tight with his own family there are few better places for Yuu to be.

While Cater isn't Crewel's favorite student, he doesn't hate him or the Shaftlands. He is also not entirely unconvinced that him asking is for a magicam trend but! He has no real major objections. He is more than ready to have two kids, as soon as Cater is willing to admit he could use a stable father figure.

I don't think that Ruggie would even suggest marrige unless he's obtained that stable, high paying job he so baldy wants and has moved his Granny out of the slums. It's the perfect time to ask for permission to propose, and while the Savannah is still super far away (r.i.p. Crewel's skin) he is much more supportive of the two of you and how far you've come.

Similarly to Ruggie, I don't think Jamil would propose to Yuu unless his personal issues with Kalim and his position with the Asim's had been sorted. He wants to actually travel on his honeymoon, and Crewel is very willing to suggest the Queendom of Roses. Jamil's ego is absolutely stroked by how Crewel had zero objections but your adoptive dad doesn't get to see how smug it makes him, Jamil saves the smirks for when you say yes.

I think that Crewel seems to like all of the first years, and Epel is no exception. Sure, his request starts out well put together and polite but devolves into a dialect that leaves Crewel with no idea of what he's saying, but he has a general idea. Of course Epel has his blessing, Harveston sounds like a lovely place for Yuu to live their life in Twisted Wonderland and Epel a perfect person to keep them safe and happy.

He already planned the wedding (Ace, Deuce, Silver and Vil)

I know what you're saying. Crewel approving of Ace? Of course he does! He was in his homeroom class, and Crewel has a soft spot for trouble makers from the Queendom, he was one after all! Sure he might have had some problems with him when you first started dating, but now, when he is deathly serious saying he wants to spend the rest of his life with you? Crewel has been waiting for this since he fist saw carrot head yanking your chain.

Deuce is a much easier sell, Crewel was always a bit harsh on his intelligence, but only because he ran a tight ship and wanted him to reach for the stars. Well he has, and he has you to support him through it, Crewel is so proud of both. He and Dilla have absolutely been hypothetically planning this for years.

While Silver's curse did not endear him to Crewel for his first two years of schooling, he really grew on him when you started going out. He's glad that you've found someone who loves you as much as Silver does, really he is. Unfortunately this means he has to plan a wedding with Lilia, something they both have been doing since you started going out and never talked about. Don't worry! They only intend to fight a lot little bit.

The instant you started dating Vil Crewel entered his mother of the bride era. The permission asking was less Vil wanting to be polite and more him coming up with a way to distract him and convince him to focus on designing the clothes. Thankfully it works and no one other than his dogs have to know just how insane the prospect of his two favorite students marrying made him.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #heartslaybul x reader #savanaclaw x reader #octavinelle x reader #scarabia x reader #pomefiore x reader #idia shroud x reader #diasmonia x reader #idk have whatever this is i am so eepy

[longing-for-the-past-times]

their reaction to you wearing a flavoured lipstick

task force 141 x reader headcanons

synopsis: headcanons of how would they react when the reader wears a flavoured lipstick/lip gloss/lip balm

notes: can you tell who is my favourite?

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: mentions of smoking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price - chocolate and red velvet

He may be slightly old-fashioned and love it when you wear red lipstick as he considers it a classy, but bold choice of colour

He is aware that you own more than one red lipstick, yet he secretly cannot differentiate one shade from another. Not that he'll ever let you know

That is until one day you visit him at work. He won't let it show, but he becomes jealous the second you walk in the base, your lips painted in a rich, velvety crimson. He cannot take his eyes off you, hypnotized by the captivating movement of your lips as you speak to him, telling him about your day and what you thought you should have for dinner.

John does not miss the hungry looks that are thrown across your way. He is quick to snake his hand around your waist and usher you to his office, where he could be the only one relishing in the allure the red lipstick cast over you-

"John, you're not really listening, are you?" your playful tone snaps him out of his reverie, a sheepish look plastered on his face.

"Love, did I ever tell you how much red lipstick suits you?"

"Only twice per day and more than ten times per night…" you roll your eyes at his antics, cupping his cheeks in your hands and planting a kiss at the corner of his lips, letting out a small giggle as his stubble tickled your lips.

"Well, I am headed home to get started on that dinner you didn't pay attention to!" you keep teasing him, amused by his dazzled expression. Little did you know, you had him wrapped around your finger.

"A…Alright, drive safe! I'll be there as soon as I finish this paperwork!"

Only he spends the next hour daydreaming about your red lips and the tender way they made contact with his skin, the phantom touch still lingering on the corner of his lips. Unconsciously, he traces his tongue over the place, freezing when he feels a mild flavour of chocolate.

He checks it once again, partially ashamed of the childish gesture. If any of his teammates caught him at that moment, they wouldn't let him live it down. But the subtle taste is there, sweet yet distant, almost as if it was teasing him.

The paperwork's long forgotten before he realizes it must be your lipstick. You might have told him that you found a new flavoured collection, but he had been too busy staring at your giddy figure to pay attention.

So he becomes a man with a plan and does not delay heading home anymore. The drive there seems endless, but it's all worth it the moment he opens the door and sees you standing by the kitchen counter, wearing the apron he gave you for Christmas

One second he's by the door, the next he's smashing his lips against yours, a small sigh of pleasure leaving him as he relishes in the now-intense aroma of chocolate.

"Warn an old man next time, will ya?"

From that day on, he starts calling you "chocolate". The pet name raises a few eyebrows here and there, but none of you are bothered by it. Not when you could tease him about his newly-found sweet tooth and he could lose himself in your delicate kisses.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - strawberries and cigarettes

There are times when he becomes a heavy smoker, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment and burning through a pack in one day while his mind is mulling over the previous or the next mission

In times like those, he has nothing against your presence, secretly enjoying when you lay his head atop his shoulder and hug him from behind, but he always refuses to kiss you afterwards, arguing that the acrid taste of cigarettes would gross you out

It definitely doesn't- it is an integral part of him that you'd come to accept and love- and now you couldn't live without it

Until one evening, you opt to sit across him, leaning your hands on the balcony railing, while your eyes wander over the city lights. Over the course of your relationship with Simon, you had grown used to his long bouts of silence, becoming accustomed to all of his telltale signs: his left eyebrow would twitch when he doesn't like something, his right foot would continuously tap against the ground when he is distressed.

Three cigarettes in, and his foot is reenacting Radetzky's March. He is utterly unaware of the amused glances you steal at him

"Something the matter, love?" you ask him in a sweet tone, trying to pull off your most innocent face.

"'s nothing", he begins hesitantly, his voice rough from not using it. "…just a little cold, I guess"

You have to turn your head away from him and back to the city, a satisfied smirk spreading on your face. Simon might have been the deadliest operator the Special Forces have had in a long time, but deep down he was also a touch-starved man who found solace and peace in your arms

When the foot tapping does not stop, you struggle to school your face into a neutral expression and turn towards him, your eyes melting at the sight of his dishevelled blonde hair and furrowed brow. He sheepishly looks up in your direction, a silent plea dancing in his chocolate eyes.

You stand and approach him slowly, stopping only when your faces are inches apart. His half-burnt cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray, the remnants of smoke in his breath fanning over your face.

His eyes hold a hundred unanswered questions: did he do something to upset you, did you grow sick of him, can he do anything to get you back; but they are all silenced when you lean in further, placing a gentle and intimate kiss on his lips

The unexpected gesture sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and he has to take a moment before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you back, the way you deserve to be kissed

You chuckle in his mouth before pecking both his eyes and forehead and returning to your original position, your head resting in the crook of his neck as your arms engulf him in a warm hug

He opens his mouth to scold you for kissing him when he is smoking. In his mind, it is almost like he is tainting your presence with the stale smell of smoked cigarettes. But as the words form on his lips, he hesitates, his mind struggling to acknowledge the foreign taste on his tongue

He turns to look at you with a confused look on his face. It was October so there could be no strawberries at the market and the freezer was empty as you had eaten all ice cream when you were on your period-

So why did he taste strawberries on your kiss?

"I may have found a lip gloss from high school", you eventually break the silence, blowing a huff of strawberry-scented air in his direction. "One I bought and swore to keep untouched until I found someone worth using it for!"

His thunderous laugh has you opening your mouth in shock. You could count on your fingers the number of times he'd laugh openly and without reserves

"Bloody hell, darling. You'll get me killed before smoking does! That thing must have been expired for years now!"

You shake your head in disbelief, faintly blushing at his words. You know he is teasing you, but that does not stop you from taking revenge as you start to plant messy pecks and kisses on his neck and cheeks. You eventually stop when your lips are once again inches apart from his, your breaths slowly mingling into a shared one

"Then I guess we are going down together"

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - cherries and chapped lips

It all begins one cold morning when he leans in to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work

"Hold on! Johnny, you've got to do something about your chapped lips! You know what, let me get you a lip balm!"

He is quick to place a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he has to do a double-take before words tumble out of his mouth

"Ain't no way I'm using such a thing, bonnie! Lip balms and such are made for wee lasses like you, not for demolition experts like me!"

You roll your eyes at his badly constructed argument and give him an unimpressed look when an idea pops into your mind.

"You stay right here, I'll be back in a jiffy!"

"What even is a jiffy?"

But you don't bother to answer as you head towards the bedroom, looking for the cherry-flavoured lip balm you bought specifically for the cold season. With precise movements, you apply a thick layer on your lips, smacking your lips to check if the cherry flavour is strong enough to linger. It fortunately is.

So you hurry into the hallway where Soap's waiting for you, hands on his hips as he angles his head in your direction. If he notices that your lips have just got shinier, he doesn't mention it

Instead, he leans in to properly kiss you goodbye this time, eyes comically widening when you deepen the kiss and make it last longer than usually

A small chuckle leaves his lips as you cup his cheeks in your hand and place a small kiss on the top of his nose

"How about we continue this when I come home?", he smiles at the ticklish sensation of your lips against his skin, the constant stinging of his own being forgotten for the moment

"Is that a promise, Sergeant?"

He has a hard time leaving home that day, the drive to the base being plagued by thoughts of you and how much you care for him. His lips have been chapped ever since spending the last two weeks on a mission that required him to be on constant watches in freezing temperatures. He eventually got used to it, the cracks and fissures becoming familiar from the countless times he dragged his tongue over lips, in a hopeless attempt to soothe the pain radiating from them

He does not realise that he is currently doing the same thing, his brain temporarily freezing as it detects a new, yet familiar aroma

Why do his lips taste like cherries?

He remains in the car, long after he's parked, his mind deep in thought as he runs his tongue over his lips once more, partially scared that he'll make the mysterious taste go away if he's too insistent. He does not see Ghost approaching his car from the back and actually flinches when he hears someone pounding on the window.

"D'you lock yourself in here, Johnny? The briefing's about to start in five and you haven't even geared up yet!"

"Bloody hell, you should really do something about your lips- they look like cracked desert earth or something…"

"Did not take you for a poet, L.T."

"Never said I was."

He is in the middle of the briefing when he figures out the source of the mystery taste. It all starts to make sense - the quick detour you had to take, the passionate kiss. He has to give it to you - you could do anything you put your mind to.

Because, besides the compelling taste, the chapstick you must have used started to have a soothing effect on his lips, the stinging becoming more bearable with every passing moment

He spends the rest of the day struggling to make the cherry flavour last longer, but it eventually fades out after he's forced to drink water. A small pout etches itself into his face and he starts to regret not listening to you.

The moment he comes home, he's in the bedroom, unscrewing the cap of every lip balm and smelling it before trying to place it back exactly as it was

You silently linger in the doorway, an amused smile creeping across your face as your fingers shift with the cherry-flavoured lip balm. Soap is so distracted by his covert operations task that he does not hear you trying to contain your chuckles.

"I believe you are looking for this?"

He is quick to snatch the small tube from your hands before bringing it closer to his nose and drawing a deep breath in. You shake your head in exasperation, a loud laugh escaping your lips as he clumsily tries to rub the chapstick across his lips.

"Love, you're doing it wrong! You might break it if you apply that much pressure!"

"Here, let me help you!"

Ends up insisting you order a batch just for him.

In just days, his lips go from cracked and fissured to soft and plump, perfect for the customary morning kiss

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - vanilla and stained teeth

Combat training is fun and games until you are paired up with someone like Ghost, Soap, or Gaz and get your ass handed to you

Lucky you, today Gaz is the person who slams your back on the hard mattress and pins your hands above your head, interlocking your feet with his

Your mind replays the steamy events of last night and you can't help but give him a suggestive smirk which is quickly followed by a toothy grin upon seeing the blush that spreads on his face

He shakes his head in disbelief, not letting go of your arms or feet. Instead, he leans forward, cocks his head and openly stares at you

"Darling, you've got lipstick on your teeth!"

You comically widen your eyes and try to bring your hands to your mouth, struggling to escape his firm grip, but to no avail.

"'m n't s'ppos'd to we'r lipstick 't w'rk", you try to mumble with your mouth closed while your tongue is running over your teeth, looking for any traces of lipstick.

"Ok, has it gone now?", you open your mouth and practically bar your teeth at him, frowning at his unreadable expression. "Gaz- you're scaring m-"

Before you finish your sentence, he smashes his lips against yours and it takes all you have not to whimper when you feel his tongue repeatedly swiping over your teeth

Once he breaks up the kiss, he makes a show of checking you up, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lips

"Yeah, I think I got it all…"

You roll your eyes at the shit-eating grin he's sporting as he runs his tongue over his lips and freezes, his jaw going slack

"Why am I tasting vanilla? Are you tasting vanilla?"

You try to give him an answer, but before being able to say a word, his lips are back on yours and he is kissing you hard and long, his hold remaining as firm as before

"Alright, lovebirds - go get a room before I cite you for public indecency!"

Upon hearing Captain Price, your combat instincts kick back in and you manage to push Gaz off of you, switching position, so that you are atop him, pinning him to the ground

"Sorry, Captain! We'll go back to training!", you call out to him, offering him an apologetic smile which he accepts with a subtle nod.

"Next time you wear that lipstick, let a man know!"

"It screams you need someone to kiss it better"

#call of duty headcanons #call of duty mwii #call of duty imagine #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x y/n #task force 141 headcanons #john price x reader #captain john price #ghost fluff #soap x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz mw2

[halfmoth-halfman]

the little things

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Five times Soap questions the relationship between Ghost and the 141's Medic, and the one time he gets an answer. Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: mentions of blood, mild swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.

part two. part three. part four.

The first time is purely by accident. 

It’s not like he’s trying to eavesdrop; it isn’t his fault the infirmary doors were left wide open, and it doesn’t seem like you and Ghost are trying to be quiet. Price called everyone for a meeting in twenty and, since the infirmary’s on the way, Soap figures he’d swing by and grab you. He’s walking towards the doors, paying attention to nothing in particular, when your unmistakable laugh echoes into the hallway. Soap stumbles slightly, caught off guard by the sudden noise. 

Someone’s enjoying themselves, he thinks. He’s almost six steps from the door when you laugh again, this time followed by the deep timbre of a familiar voice that makes Soap stop in his tracks.

Price was the one who had brought you onto the team, but it was supposedly Ghost who had recommended you. “Only medic I ever met who actually knew what they were doing,” he had said. Apparently the two of you had previously worked on multiple missions together, and that was made obvious by the way you two worked flawlessly around each other with an efficiency that could only have been cultivated through a deep trust and years of teamwork. 

Soap slowly approaches, all his stealth training coming to the forefront as he leans next to the door and focuses in on what you’re saying.

“It’ll only take a day, two tops. I promise.” Soap can hear the smile in your voice. Glancing at the glass panes of the doors, he can just make out your reflection. You’re standing beside an empty bed, behind an overbed table that’s covered in papers, leaning on your elbows to smile widely up at Ghost as he stands against the wall on the opposite side of the bed looking wholly unimpressed. 

“You want me to spend an entire day sitting in the corner and watching you give everyone on base flu shots?” 

“No, I’m asking if you’ll sit in the corner and look intimidating while I give everyone on base flu shots. The “look intimidating” part’s important,” you speak matter-of-factly. 

“I’ve seen you amputate a man’s leg at the knee mid-combat. You’re telling me you can’t handle a few shots by yourself?”

Soap makes a note to ask about that story later. 

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you. It’s everyone else that’s the problem here.” Ghost blinks at you, seemingly not believing you. “I get it, you’re all big, tough guys who face death every day-” Soap sinks his teeth into his cheek to fight back a laugh as you try to lower your voice in a very poor imitation of Ghost, “-but the way some of these guys act, you’d think I was coming at them with some kind of medieval torture device. I just think-” “That’d be a first.”

“-If I had someone that everyone respects, and is a little bit afraid of, sitting nearby then they’d stop with the whining and I can get my job done faster.” 

There’s a long pause as you and Ghost stand locked into a staring contest. Soap swears that, for a moment, something like amusement crosses Ghost’s eyes. 

“You think people are only a little afraid of me?” Ghost asks, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. You let out a loud, exaggerated scoff, throwing your hands up.

“Fine! Go lurk in a dark corner and scare children, or whatever it is you do, instead of helping me. Just don’t be surprised if I’m suddenly out of painkillers the next time you get shot.” You’re facing away from him, pouting like a child with your arms crossed over your chest. Both Soap and Ghost know you don’t mean it, your flawless reputation is too important to you, but Ghost sighs and nods anyways.

“Just tell me what days-” Ghost is barely done talking when you’re spinning around, nearly knocking the table over.

“Really?”

“Whatever will get you to stop being a brat.” Like water off a duck’s back, the insult runs right off of you as you clap your hands together. “Now, come on. Don’t want to be late to Price’s meeting.” Ghost pushes himself off the wall as you shuffle your scattered papers into organized piles to look through later. Soap leans back, taking a few quiet steps back from the door as you and Ghost start to leave the infirmary. 

“Hold on, one sec.” Soap pauses as he hears your hurried footsteps, looking back to your reflection in the glass. Eyes widening, his jaw drops as he watches Ghost let you grab his arm and push yourself up onto your toes to place a quick kiss to the cheekbone of the larger man’s plated skull mask. “Thank you,” you speak softly, taking a couple small steps back. 

Soap doesn’t have time to process as you and Ghost step out of the infirmary, immediately spotting him as he stands dumbly in the hallway. 

“Hey Soap! You heading to Price’s office, too?” Soap blinks, shaking off the shock and giving you a quick nod. 

“Yeah, I was just about to come get the two of you.”

“Let’s go, then,” Ghost says, turning and walking away without waiting for you or Soap. You fall in step behind him almost instantly, waving Soap over. Soap glances between the two of you as he follows. He knew the two of you weren’t strangers. He’d even speculated you might’ve been friends, but he’d never imagined you might’ve been something more. He wants to know more, but also gets the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t something he should be prying into. Ghost has always been a private man. 

Either way, he has no time to think on it further as the three of you enter Price’s office. 

-

The second time, he’s in far too much pain and far too tired to really remember if it actually happened. 

Despite everything, the mission had been a success, though the cost had almost been too much. Your team of seven has two unconscious, three severely injured, and the rest sporting a variety of bullet grazes and knife wounds. None dead, thanks to your quick thinking and efficient work. It’s late and the team’s holed up in an old safehouse overnight waiting for evac. Soap is sat up against the far wall, watching you with drooping eyes as you flit around the safehouse, tending to everyone’s wounds. He had been fortunate enough to only have a few minor wounds, but the adrenaline of the fight is fading fast and the comedown is hitting hard. 

Ghost is on watch and is the last person you check on, at his own insistence and much to your annoyance. He bats you away from any of the minor cuts and bruises, so you pull up a chair next to his and focus on the deep gash running across his right forearm. Through his sleep-hazed gaze, Soap watches you expertly stitch Ghost’s arm. He can hear the two of you mumbling to each other, but doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher your words. Once you’ve finished wrapping Ghost’s arm, you glance around at the others. 

You must assume everyone is asleep by the way you deflate, running a tired hand down your face and stretching your neck with a grimace. You scoot your chair closer to Ghost’s, shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against his armored shoulder. To Soap’s surprise and not to yours, Ghost makes no move to push you away, instead shifting so your head’s not at such an awkward angle and settling into his own chair. Soap can feel his curiosity creeping up, but sleep wins out in the end and he passes out not long after. 

When he wakes, Ghost is in the same spot, but you’re curled up in a beaten up arm chair across the room still asleep. 

When evac finally arrives, everyone is awake, and you and Ghost hardly acknowledge each other as he briefs Price over comms and you help load wounded into the helicopter.

-

The third time, he’s sneaking through the rain and blood-soaked streets of Las Almas, Ghost guiding him through his ear as he makes his way to the church. 

He knows he should’ve seen it coming, but Graves’s betrayal stings nonetheless. Soap pushes the anger down, instead focusing on reaching the rendezvous point so they can escape and rescue Alejandro. The banter helps, but there’s an edge to Ghost’s voice that Soap understands as worry. 

They haven’t heard from you since you all were separated. 

They both know you can handle yourself, and worrying about it won’t help, so they talk and sort through their situation: what supplies Soap can pick up, how bad tequila tastes, the tactical uses for dog piss. Everything is as fine as it can be while on the run from deadly mercenaries. Until-

“The mask. Take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Can confirm.” Soap nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden sound of your voice. 

“Holy hell, where have you been?”

“Aw, you worried about me, Soap?” The teasing tells him you’re not in too much danger, or are at least somewhere you feel safe, but something in your voice feels…off.

“What’s your status?” Ghost cuts in.

“Managed to get out of the village,” you groan through a deep exhale, and give a haggard laugh, “can’t say the same for the Shadows.”

Ghost gives a quiet hum of praise, but all Soap can hear is the strain in your winded voice. “You alright, Doc? You sound-”

“Dings and scrapes, Soap. I’ll be fine. Meet up with you later.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, “just focus on getting to the church.” 

“Right,” Soap mutters. He returns his focus back to the mission at hand, rummaging through the drawers in front of him for rope he can wrap around his extra fan blade. 

It hits him just as he spots the reflective shine of a shard of glass on the floor. Can confirm, is what you’d said. Did that mean-

“The Doc’s seen you without the mask.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question. 

“Let’s worry about you, Sergeant.”

-

The fourth time, he lands hard on his feet in the pitch black of Alejandro’s safehouse. Soap has his back turned as Ghost climbs in the window behind him. Luckily for him, as Ghost sees the laser sight aiming right for Soap’s back. 

“Don’t move!” Ghost calls out, before launching a knife into the support beam across the room. Soap whirls around to shine his light at the beam just as someone calls out from behind it.

“¿Quién está ahí?”

Before either he or Ghost can answer, someone else stands and walks around to the front, “About time you two showed up!” Your voice is an instant relief as they both relax while you turn back to let Rodolfo know it’s safe to come out. 

“Either of you injured?” you ask, eyes scanning over Soap as Ghost hops down from the open window and Rudy returns his knife. 

“Nothing major,” Soap assures you, though your eyes linger on the bullet hole in his arm. 

“Found this one trying to climb in through the same window,” Rudy explains, nodding towards you. 

“I almost had it,” you laugh, leaning to the side to put your weight on the beam. They don’t miss the way you wince, and it doesn’t take long to notice your right leg is a deep red from the knee up.

“Your leg-”

“Looks worse than it is.” 

Soap doesn’t believe you, but the subject changes to Graves and he lets it go. The four of you settle around the table as the guys formulate their plan for Alejandro’s prison break. You set your palms atop the table, leaning forward to take as much weight off of your leg as you can so you can focus on the conversation. It doesn’t help much, but it helps enough and soon the plan is concrete enough to take action. While Rudy leads Soap to the weapons locker, you take a seat on a nearby box to check the haphazard bandages you’ve wrapped around your thigh.

“You’re staying here.” Soap glances over as Ghost speaks. You laugh quietly, leaning back on your hands to stare up at the man towering over you.

“Leaving me all by my lonesome?” You sound like you’re complaining, but even from a distance Soap can see the relief in your face. Your teasing does little to soothe the stress radiating from Ghost.

“Just-” Ghost lets out a long sigh before dropping his voice so low, Soap can barely hear his words. “Be careful. Please.” You sit up straight, face suddenly serious as you set a gentle hand on Ghost’s wrist.

“For you? Always.”

“Soap, can you grab the rest of the guns?” Soap snaps back to attention, nodding at Rudy and collecting what guns he can. It takes all of two minutes, and when he turns back, Ghost is sorting through papers and you’ve set to properly bandaging your leg. 

-

By the fifth time something happens, Soap is absolutely sure there’s something between you and the Lieutenant. He notices it everytime the two of you are together: the quiet banter, the dark jokes only the two of you enjoy, the way Ghost always seems to hover near where you’re standing. It isn’t until the 141’s every-so-often night out that his suspicions are confirmed. Gaz and Price stepped away for a round of darts ten minutes ago, and now Soap finds himself sitting alone watching you and Ghost talk at the opposite end of the bar.

“You keep staring like that, and they’re going to notice.” Soap chokes on his drink as Price takes a seat next to him, Gaz snickering as he flops down on Soap’s other side and claps him on the back. 

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Soap coughs out, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but the other end of the bar. Price sees straight through his lie, of course.

“Gaz, why don’t you see if the Doc wants to try a hand at darts?” 

“Sure thing, boss.” Another clap on the back and Gaz is making his way over to you and Ghost. Soap startles as Price leans close and nudges him in the side with his elbow. 

“Keep your eyes on him,” Price whispers, and leans away to sip at his own glass. Soap takes another drink, sneakily glancing up just as Gaz reaches you and Ghost. You smile widely at him, nodding when he gestures towards the darts board. You turn and say something to Ghost before standing from the bar and following after Gaz to the other side of the room. Ghost’s eyes follow you the entire way, never once leaving your form.

“Watches like a hawk, that one,” Price hums, “and I thought he’d be better at subtlety.” Soap turns to his Captain, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“You-” Price shushes him, and nods back towards Ghost. Soap looks back, and they watch as Ghost sets down his empty glass, stands, then makes his way over to you and Gaz. He posts up, leaning against the wall closest to you where you can easily smile at him every time one of your throws lands. 

“Like a lost puppy,” Price laughs.

“What’s the situation there?” Soap asks, glancing back at Price, but all Price can offer is a lazy shrug. 

“Don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s been happening for a long time.”

-

“Alright, just got a couple papers for you to sign and you should be good to go,” you smile, gently turning Soap’s head to examine the area you’ve just pulled his stitches from. 

“Thanks, Doc. ‘Preciate it.” You give a playfully dismissive wave, disappearing behind the dividing curtain. 

“I’ll be right back!” you call and Soap nods, more to himself than you. He glances around at his sterile surroundings, eyes bouncing from the white walls to the white floor to the white bedsheets. The overbed table sits just next to him, though this time there’s no mess of papers scattered atop it. Instead, there sits a single file and after twenty seconds of solid boredom, Soap can’t help himself. 

Lifting from the bottom corner of the file, Soap nearly drops it as he sees your picture clipped to a pile of papers. He looks behind him, pulling the curtain just enough to peer through. He spots you on the far side of the infirmary, waiting patiently at the printer. Letting the curtain fall, he quickly turns back to your file. He flips it open, picking up the paper with your photo attached. It’s an older picture, maybe from three or four years ago, but your smile is still as wide as ever. 

Flipping the picture up reveals almost two entire pages of solid black lines. There’s more redacted information here than Soap has ever seen. Soap skims through what few sentences are available, every so often catching things like SIS and specialty interrogation tactics and a slew of words he never would’ve associated with your cheerful demeanor. He gets to the final page that appears to be a printed copy of the photo and his heart nearly stops as he reads the name written at the bottom and everything clicks together in his head.

Your last name is Riley.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw fics #moth writes #private

[earthtooz]

fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou

during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.

the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.

“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.

your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.

“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.

“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.

“were ya waitin’ for me?”

you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”

“almost nine.”

“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”

his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”

“it’s okay, i get it.”

“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.

“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“

“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”

bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-

“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.

when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.

but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.

and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.

bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.

he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.

if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.

you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.

the second time, you wake up confused.

the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.

you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.

then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.

"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.

next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.

you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.

"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"

"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.

"promise me you'll never do this again."

cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"

"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."

you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."

he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."

"that's not realistic."

"watch me."

"okay then, deal."

there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.

(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.

you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.

you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.

you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.

you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)

the third time, you cry too.

it's your wedding day.

when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.

it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.

up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.

more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.

thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.

a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.

"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."

you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.

"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.

"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.

"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."

"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"

"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."

"i didn't know you could be a poet."

"only for you."

"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."

"i'll always be yours."

you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."

"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."

"your tears are dangerous."

"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."

"like i said, i can't wait."

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#don't talk to me abt this. this was so bad #lmk if there are warnings i missed #i'm pretty sure this is gn!reader i mean i'm gender neutral so hey if the shoe fits #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader