#‘hearing the whispering voices; oh I’m sure they’re laughing at me again’

[givemequeen]

the artist; spencer reid x reader

request: Hello! It’s me again. :) I have a concept but I’m unsure about a plot, if that’s okay. Could you maybe write a Spencer x Fem!Quiet reader who likes to draw? And Spencer always sees her doodling on her papers while she’s bored like flowers and eyes and stuff? And sometimes she draws the team while they’re working but one day Spencer sees her drawing him and he confronts her very politely and she’s all flustered and blushing? I don’t know if it’s something you’re comfortable with, I just like to draw and if I worked with the FBI that would definitely be something I would do if I was bored. 😄🫶🏻 Thanks a ton!!! I love your writing.

a/n: i love spencer sm. i rly hope this is what you were looking for! thanks for the request :)

It had all started with some fun doodling; a couple of fun little drawings here and there when things were slow or during long flights. It hadn't been anything serious. Then, you attempted drawing landscapes; mountains, buildings, anything. Not just silly doodles.

Drawing helped you pass time, you enjoyed it and, if you said so yourself, you were quite good at it. Drawing people had always scared you, you weren't sure if you could get it right so you started with strangers, people on the bus or tram, in long queues, at cafes.

On one particularly long flight to Seattle you had drawn Hotch. His hard stare and furrowed brows as he read over a case made him easy to draw. Then it was Garcia, her bright smile brought you comfort. Then Rossi and JJ and Morgan.

And finally, Spencer, the cutest member. You could definitely see why Morgan called him pretty boy. His soft lips and hair beautifully juxtaposed his sharp jawline and slim fingers.

He was you're favourite to draw. You had around half a dozen drawings of the team by now; some individual, some in groups. But, your best drawings where those you had done on Spencer.

"Wow. You're really good." Spencer voice made you jump, nearly spilling your coffee over your drawing.

He had just gone to the jet's bathroom - you had been careful to hide your work as he passed by you.

"Spence!" you yelped, moving to clean up. "You scared me." you pressed your sketchpad against your chest, hiding your drawing from sight.

"May I see?" he leaned over and stretched out his hand - that gorgeous, slender hand of his. The one you had a couple drawing dedicated to in the very sketchpad he was reaching towards.

"No!" you said, a little too quickly. "I- erm-"

"Oh, that's okay, sorry for asking." he straightened up. "I just... well I thought that was a really good drawing. You made me look quite nice." his voice was soft, no one else could hear you.

Apart from the looks from that initial scream, no one was paying any attention to you two, everyone too immersed in their own thing to pay attention. You looked around, confirming no one was watching, and moved over in your seat.

"Sit." you said, patting the space beside you.

Spencer sat down, his thigh warm against yours, and smiled at you.

"Here." you offered him your sketchpad and hid your face in your hands, too ashamed to watch his reaction.

He opened the first page and oohed. You peaked between your fingers, wondering what he was looking at. It was your very first doodles. He pointed out some and smiled; his revolver, his favourite book, Morgan's headphones, Garcia's pens.

"I really like these." he said.

"Thanks." you mumbled.

He turned the pages, his fingers feeling the bumps and ridges of the drawing. He was particularly fond of the one you did of Vegas' skyline.

"That's amazing." he said, more to himself than to you.

You pulled away one of your hands and leaned over to him. His scent was overpowering in the best way possible; coffee, old books, and that new cologne he had been trying out.

He finally got to the one you made of Hotch. Spencer laughed out loud, looking up to his boss and laughing even more.

"Identical! Same expression." he whispered in between laughs.

"Thank you." you said, a smile appearing on your face.

"Oh and Garcia..." he laughed. "The same smile..."

He passed the pages - the first drawing you had done of Morgan made him laugh again. It had been of him flirting with Garcia; you had nailed his wicked grin.

Finally, he flipped the paged onto his section of the book. The first one you had done of him he had been reading a book, his fingers pressed against the pages and he read page after page.

"Oh wow." he whispered. "That's... it's amazing. You're such an artist. How did you manage it?" he turned to look at you.

"Oh, well, I dunno." you bit the inside of your cheek. He wasn't mad you had drawn him without permission or something? "You like it?" you asked.

"Of course! They're amazing." he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing. I'm really impressed."

You stared at your joined hands and your heart skipped a beat. "Thanks." you stuttured.

Spencer let go of your hand and went back to passing the pages. The next drawing, he had been fast asleep, an open book resting against his chest. He laughed at that one too, making some comment about how ridiculous he looked.

"Well, I thought you looked cute." you whispered, scared he might actually hear you.

"Yeah?" he said, looking over at you.

"Yeah." you said.

Spencer was blushing. He quickly looked away and flitted through the rest of the pages. He was especially impressed by the one of his hands ("wow, I had no idea they looked so..." "beautiful?" "creepy").

He closed the book gently and handed it over to you.

"I'd love to get a copy of some of those, if you don't mind." he was so close to you, you were afraid he could hear your heartbeat.

"Yes- no- I mean, I don't mind. I'll send you the original." you were having trouble trying not to stare at his lips for too long.

"You'd do that?" Spencer asked.

"Of course, since you were such a good subject." you laughed and stared into his soft eyes.

"I'd love to be an actual subject for you one day, since you're so good at it." he moved to stand up and you nearly whined as his warmth left you. "If you ever need a subject, let me know." he flashed you that sweet smile of his and made his way back to his seat.

You couldn't believe what had just happened. It took everything in you not to squeal and dance around like a teenage girl. You pressed your sketchpad against your chest and buried yourself deep into your seat, already thinking of all the poses you could get Spencer into.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds fluff #imagine then receiving a package from reid of art supplies with a note or somethinggggg

[thencitytales]

Non-stop Teasing - CYJ

🌷Pairing: Choi Yeonjun of TXT x fem!reader (3rd person used)

🌷 kinda enemies to lovers

🌷wc: 4.1k

🌷 Fluff? sort of angsty tho

🌷 warning: drinking, cussing, frat party, Yeonjun being kind of down bad

🌷There are a few other idols mentioned, some of them in a relationship with each other, I do not think these people are together nor do I ship them, I just felt like the story could have used these dort of relationships (ChaewonxWooyoung, KarinaxJeno)

🌷 Hey!! I am back because i felt like it. This fic is a fleeting idea i had a long time ago and was finally able to finish. In the beginning it was not meant for Yeonjun but it had mostly OC'S so if you see random names I'm sorry, I have yet to proofread it. Feel free to give me notes and feedback, as I appreciate it a lot!! 'Til next time <3

(not my GIF)

Yeonjun. Stupid, fucking Yeonjun.

Idiot, average-looking yet so stupidly attractive Yeonjun.

“If you really hate him you should stop staring at him, you know?” a blonde girl talked to her best friend, who shushed her in response.

“Shut up Chaewon, I’m not staring” Y/N retorted against her best friend. 

Except she was, and she knew it.

Another person in the library was also very aware of Y/N and what she was doing, because he could feel her eyes pierce through his head. 

And he loved it.

“Ask anybody here, they’ll say you’re staring,” Chaewon said in an amused tone, making Y/N’s eye twitch in frustration.

“Well, then it’s hate-staring, glaring if you will,” Y/N looked away from the boy and glared at her best friend, turning her head ever so slowly, as to recreate the scene in a horror movie.

“Just like I’m glaring at you right now.” Chaewon let out a laugh at her friend’s antics and shrugged it off.

“Sure thing, love. Keep telling yourself that.”Chaewon said. Y/N could only scoff before going back to look at her books.

Look was indeed the best word to describe what she was doing, the words on the page being read for the tenth time in as many minutes without understanding nor absorbing any of it. Biology sucked, and so did Y/N’s brain at that moment. So much so that after a couple of seconds she got distracted again.

“What is it with the stupid beanie anyway? Like what’s the deal with that? DO YOU THINK HE HAS A BALD SPOT?” Y/N whisper-screamed, making Chaewon almost spit out the water she was trying to drink after finally reaching the end of her chapter.

Suddenly the girls heard a louder voice coming from behind them.

“It’s actually for style-related purposes, no bald spot, though if you’re still in doubt you could always ask him. Also, Y/N, you were one hundred percent staring at Yeonjun, just FYI.” Wooyoung said whilst chuckling at the little jump the girls made upon hearing him. Y/N turned around, red in the face, a mixture of embarrassment for being caught and pure wrath, caused by Wooyoung’s presence.

“How long have you been here?” She said bitterly. The boy could sense she wanted to add something, the words dying in her throat a bit too fast. He assumed a “dickhead”, or “asshole” was missing, but he let it go, not teasing her any further. 

“The whole time, love,” he said mocking what Chaewon had said to her friend just a few minutes prior. Then turned away and returned to his spot at the same table with Yeonjun, Soobin and Changbin.

Y/N looked warily at her surroundings to make sure no one else was around to eavesdrop on them.

“How in actual hell are you able to like that guy?” Her shocked expression clearly visible on her features.

Chaewon shrugged.

“He just likes to tease you, he’s actually very nice” She answered, her cheeks turning slightly pink before continuing. 

“I mean it’s not like they’re the fuckboys group.” When Chaewon said that, Y/N was still looking at them and immediately turned around. 

“No, they’re worse, at least the fuckboys are self-aware of how awful they are” she sighed.

“Oh my God you’re so dramatic,” Chaewon said rolling her eyes before going back to typing at her computer. 

Y/N shut up and went back to try and drill a hole through Yeonjun’s head with her gaze, sadly, without any success.

As if on cue, the boy turned around, looked at her, smirked, and turned back to speak with Changbin, making her avert her gaze and awkwardly look around to find God knows what.

She couldn’t take it anymore, her heart pounding in her chest was beginning to feel like it was too much, she could literally hear it and the sensation made her shudder. She got up and headed to the bathroom searching for some quick fix to the sudden heat of her body.

As soon as she got there Y/N quickly splashed her face with some cold water to try and stop it from getting all red, failing miserably. She looked defeatedly at her reflection.

“This is a PSA for that tiny voice living at the back of my head, I am kindly asking you to shut up” She lightly hit her head with her hand in the process so that the point would go across. 

“You understand me??” The girl sighed and took a step back from the sink to exit the bathroom, but as soon as she turned around a familiar face was standing leaning on the door frame.

“Try hitting it harder next time, that should work better.” He chuckled lightly before taking a step towards her.

“This is the girls’ bathroom, Yeonjun” Y/N backed up and glared at him for what was probably the thousandth time that day.

“Sorry, I was headed to the guys’ bathroom but something here caught my attention” he smirked once again. 

Y/N was on the verge of breaking. That smirk. He had to know the effect it had on her. Or was it just a stupid habit of his? 

It didn’t really matter. Either way, she wanted to kiss him so badly right now. And subsequently, run away, completely change identities, go to Peru, and start a potato plantation or something, to hopefully never be found again. She would never EVER admit to wanting to kiss that boy.

Frustrated even more than before, she ran back to the table where Chaewon was waiting for her, shoving Yeonjun in the process, and making him audibly laugh, clearly enjoying how easily he could fluster her.

“I gotta go, or I’m going to be late for the party,” Chaewon said the moment she saw her best friend enter her view.

“Again” Y/N added to Chaewon’s statement, knowing how long the blonde usually takes to get ready. The other girl got up and quickly added:

“Remember, I’ll be at your dorm around 10 pm, we’ll see what to do from there. Remind Ryujin too when you get home, please.” Chaewon said while collecting all of her stuff and messily throwing it in her bag.

“Sure thing, I’ll finish this chapter and go home too in a half-hour or so. Don’t worry about Ryujin, knowing her, she’ll be all dressed up already. You know who you should be worried about, though.” Y/N answered, looking up from her books.

“I already texted Karina, I told her I’d be at hers around 9:30 so she’ll hopefully be ready when we actually get there.” The girl chuckled at her best friend’s trickery and waved her goodbye, mumbling a “perfect” in the meanwhile.

On her way out Chaewon was stopped in her tracks by a slightly taller figure.

“Hey there,” he sweetly addressed the girl.

“Hi Wooyoung, I’d love to stop and chat with you but I really need to go.”

“See you at the party, then” Chaewon looked at him surprised.

“You should really stop eavesdropping other people’s conversations. Besides, you don’t even know which party we were talking about, there’s like 5 every Friday night without counting the ones outside of campus” 

He gave her a playful smile and said “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.” The girl laughed and answered “Good luck, darling” before going her way.

After that Wooyoung quickly got back to the guys’ table where all of his friends were sitting, trying to finish some sort of group project.

“Okay, talking about important things, what do you guys know about parties tonight?” Wooyoung said, sitting down.

“You mean here in the campus? or in general? Also like, frat houses or bars?” Soobin started throwing questions at him to try and narrow down the search.

“I don't know, man, Chaewon was talking to the Menace and they said they were going to a party tonight.” Wooyoung just answered him calmly.

As soon as he heard the words “Menace” and “party” together in a sentence Yeonjun’s interest was piqued. He looked at Wooyoung, completely ignoring the semi-blank document opened in front of him.

“Well I don’t think they’d go off campus, the Menace is too lazy for that, she’d want to be as close to the dorm as possible.” Soobin started the brainstorming session.

“That still leaves like at least five or six parties” Changbin pointed out, then turned to Wooyoung and asked:

“Is it just the two of them?” to which Wooyoung quickly added Ryujin and Karina to the mix.

As soon as Karina’s name came up Changbin and Soobin looked at each other and said: “Keystone Lodge.”

“Is there something I don’t know?” Wooyoung asked given how the boys answered the place of the party seemed obvious but he had no idea.

“Karina’s boyfriend, Jeno. He’s in the frat.” Soobin pointed out.

“Okay but aren’t parties at KL like, invitation-only or something like that?” Changbin quickly raised the question.

Yeonjun, who had just started fantasizing about what could’ve happened at the party and had no intentions of having his dreams ruined just like that, said: “don’t worry guys, be prepared, I’ll text you later.” and quickly got up and gathered his things before exiting the library.

“Does he have to do it every time?” Soobin asked.

“He got it from Mark, says it gives him the surprise effect later on and the mysterious effect right away.” Changbin answered rolling his eyes, to which the other two guys only answered almost in awe with an “Ooh.” probably thinking it was the best idea a man could have.

“Okay, how did you get us in Yeonjun?” Wooyoung asked, almost alarmed at how quickly and seemingly easily their friend acquired the invitations.

“I know Haechan, and he owed me. He still does.” the older boy simply stated, raising Wooyoung's alarm instead of calming him down.

“Now let’s get this party started” Yeonjun exclaimed walking up the stairs to Keystone’s Lodge with a smirk on his face.

“You’re going to try and make her life hell, aren’t you?” Changbin said clearly amused at how his friend was planning on being even more annoying to Y/N than he usually was.

“Just wait and see Changbin, just wait and see.” the smirk on Yeonjun’s face growing with every step to the door he knocked on, where they found a guy standing alone, waiting for proof of invitations.

Inside the Frat house, the music was blasting. The air felt damp and everything smelled like cheap alcohol, adding to the mix the group of smoking boys at the far end of the room anyone could imagine that the atmosphere was not very romantic. Which is exactly what they expected.

Changbin went straight for the bar, getting everybody something to drink as the other guys scanned the room for their targets. 

Wooyoung quickly saw Chaewon sitting on the couch with her friends. They were talking to a few frat guys but they seemed nonthreatening enough to his ego. The Menace was sitting dangerously close to one of them, almost in his lap. Wooyoung could not recognize the guy though, no matter how much he squinted.

He nudged his friends and with a nod pointed the scene out, hoping they would get curious and approach them, so he could flirt with Chaewon once again. 

As soon as he realized what was going on, Soobin turned to look at Yeonjun’s reaction, gesturing to Changbin to hurry over, so he could witness it too because despite what those two liked to admit, they had this tension between them that was almost romantic. They were definitely, on some level, attracted to each other but they would never admit it. That’s why Changbin Soobin and Wooyoung were now staring at Yeonjun, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever they had theorized.

Yeonjun’s brows furrowed. The night just started and everything had to be so simple already, not even a bit of a challenge. He sighed, took a drink from Changbin’s hands, and turned to Wooyoung. 

“Let’s go say hi to your princess, shall we?” Yeonjun told his friend, who was very happy about the poor lighting, meaning the other boys were not made aware of his rosy cheeks prompted by Yeonjun's comment.

As they approached, Chaewon saw them and a big smile tugged on her lips. She raised a hand to say hi and the boys did the same.

“Well Well Well, I’m surprised to see little Sherlock actually did find us.” She chuckled looking at Wooyoung.

“I told you I could do it. I’m very resourceful” he winked and the girl lightly laughed. 

Everybody then fell back into conversation, except Y/N and her mystery guy, who were so distracted by each other that they didn’t even say hi to the newcomers. 

Yeonjun cleared his voice. 

“I know you don’t like us Y/N but not saying hi is simply rude, even for you.” He smirked, knowing very well what it did to her.

The girl turned around, her surroundings didn’t make it easy to hear but she was sure she heard a voice talking to her. 

From her sitting position she looked at the new figures that had joined the conversation. And then she saw his face. She simply rolled her eyes.

“Who even invited you here? Seriously, please tell me so I can avoid the lunatic all night long, people just become crazier and crazier by the day”

“Actually,” Yeonjun chuckled.

The guy whom Y/N was talking to gently removed his hands from her hips, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

“I think that might have been me,” He said. 

Y/N looked at Haechan with a void expression.

“You’re his friend?” She asked, not believing it for a moment.

Haechan was slightly taken aback by the question, thinking the answer to be obvious, so he simply answered:

“Yeah?” at which Y/N glared at both the boys.

“That’s a shame, I really liked you.” And with that, she got up and went to the bar to pour herself yet another drink. The alcohol was probably what made her act so suddenly with that silly explanation but even sober her had no intention of being affiliated in any way with Yeonjun.

Seeing how Y/N was behaving, the boy thought that his mission was going to be such a delight with how simple she was making it.

Yeonjun followed her, leaving behind their friends absorbed in whatever conversation, and a very confused Haechan sitting on the couch.

As Y/N approached the bar, she bumped into a few people obstructing passages left and right and leaving her even more annoyed than she already was.

She took one of the red cups and poured herself some beer. 

Not the ideal drink but it was the first thing her hands were able to grasp. 

As she was about to take a sip, a hand snatched her drink.

“Thanks, I was very thirsty,” Yeonjun told her, earning a glare once again that day.

“How do you manage to be so annoying Yeonjun?” Y/N said while pouring another cup, this time she grabbed some gin, sensing she would need something stronger than a beer.

“I give it my best, just for you” he grinned.

Y/N couldn’t help but groan as she looked for the soda to mix her drink.

“What did I ever do to you? Have I offended you in any way? Are you holding a grudge from your past life?? Why do you like to annoy me so much??” She sighed in defeat.

“Woah,” Yeonjun said taken aback by the sudden seriousness of the question.

“Well, for starters I could ask you the same thing…” He answered calmly.

As she started to protest he shushed her.

“Buut, I am not going to lie, I do find you very cute when you’re frustrated” He chuckled.

“Are you hitting on me?” She asked, mouth agape.

“Do you want me to be hitting on you?” There it was again. The stupidest grin on the face of the earth. If there was a way to wipe it off instantly, Y/N would’ve gladly taken that chance. Thinking about it, there was a way, and to be honest she had reluctantly considered that way many times before, but always ended up avoiding it.

A kiss was not the solution, everything it could’ve done was only create more problems.

She was snapped back to reality by Yeonjun waving his hands in front of her eyes. She had been staring at the grin for god knows how long. A faint red was starting to tint her cheeks.

“You want to kiss me so badly,” Yeonjun told her, the grin never leaving his face.

She tried to play it as cool as possible, hoping the poor lighting of the room helped her conceive the blushing situation.

“Projecting much?” She smiled turning on her heels, determined to get out of the house for some fresh air.

As she walked away Yeonjun screamed over the music.

“I never said I wouldn’t like it” Y/N briefly stopped in her tracks, surprised by the sudden confession. Thinking it was just another way of getting under her skin she slowly reached the door and opened it, stepping out onto the backyard.

“You just love messing with her, don’t you?” Chaewon said as she approached Yeonjun, Wooyoung by her side, holding her waist.

“I have a tendency not to lie, actually. Everything I said is true. She’s just… compelling” he tried to find the best word to describe her.

“Compelling? You mean messing with her like that is compelling?” Chaewon said, a bit offended that Yeonjun enjoyed toying with her friend’s emotions like that.

“Tell me Chaewon, when have I ever done anything truly bad to her? All I do is tease, in her opinion, when in reality I was always simply…” Yeonjun said, meanwhile Chaewon tried to start a list of all the times he’s gotten you frustrated and quickly realized most times it was just his very annoying, twisted way of ... 

“Flirting,” Chaewon said, shocked. She looked at him straight in the eyes, her expression painted with shock.

“Oh my God, you just flirt with her” Chaewon continued. She suddenly realized that every time Yeonjun ever talked to Y/N he was flirting, and that enraged her friend for some reason. He never actually DID anything bad to her. He never insulted her, let alone take action to actively ruin her day. The only times he did something of the sort she was always with a guy, like 10 minutes ago with Haechan. Yeonjun was always just… flirting with Y/N.

“I am very confused.” Wooyoung said looking at his two friends.

“You never admitted it to us and it takes you like three seconds to tell it to her best friend? I kinda hate you and I am not sure I would like to be friends with you anymore.” Wooyoung continued while watching Yeonjun's every move and acting offended.

“It’s not like you guys ever really asked, I thought it was obvious if I have to be honest. She’s pretty, she’s smart, she can be a pain in the ass but she’s one of the nicest and kindest people I ever met. Not with me, which I can not really comprehend, but if teasing her incessantly is the only way I can get her to interact with me I don’t think I will ever stop.” Yeonjun said earnestly to his friend. A small smile appeared on his features, almost sheepishly.

A voice behind him startled him right after.

“What did he just say??” it was Changbin, who basically screamed in his ear after he heard just half of the confession.

“I think he likes the Menace!!” Soobin screamed at Changbin (and in Yeonjun’s other ear) in hopes of being understood over the loud music.

Meanwhile, Y/N was outside, freezing because she forgot to bring a jacket. 

Why did he have to always be so annoying, why did he always have something to say that would just make her heart beat at a worrying speed? Why did she have to like him so fucking much?

As her mind birthed the last few words she stopped pacing back and forth on the grass.

Of course, she liked him. It seemed as if every stupid decision she could make she would take and this was not even a conscious one. 

It would explain why her fight or flight response would kick in every time he would even just look in her direction, and her choice was fight. 

Thinking about kissing him all those times was not just a stupid silly thought. 

Y/N was hopeless.

"So?" The question was raised suddenly by a voice she recognised immediately.

He was standing right there, in front of her, handing her her jacket.

She happily took it, silently thanking him with a smile before muttering.

"So what?" her eyes looking at him defeated. She liked him and he was just playing. He was just teasing, and look where all that teasing led her. A terrible position she never wanted to be in.

"Am I getting that kiss you so badly want to give me?" Here he goes again. Non-stop teasing.

This time Y/N did not find it in her to fight, not him nor the feelings she finally realized she had.

"You should be more careful with your words Yeonjun, one might think you actually want it, crave it even" she said calmly before chuckling lightly. She was now sitting down on the bench and her gaze was everywhere but the boy's figure.

"As I said when you were storming off, I do think I'd enjoy it" he slowly sat down beside her, surprised by her tone. This felt more like an actual conversation now. It didn't seem like she had any intention of fleeing this time around. Just them two, talking like normal people. It was new and he liked it. He liked it more than words could explain.

"Stop teasing me please, I honestly don't think I can take it anymore. I won't be bothering you again if you promise me you will leave me alone without uttering any other word that you don't mean" If someone were to pass by and listen very closely, the sound of Yeonjun's heart could be heard as it was cracking and falling apart like glass under extreme heat.

She didn't want to see him anymore, but what was worse is that she didn't think his words were honest. She thought he didn't mean it, ever.

He meant it from the first smile he flashed her, from the first hello he said. The first time he saw her he was struck by lightning and did not feel like himself anymore. All he could do was think about her, all he wanted to do was to speak with her. He did not care if it meant he had to endure rolling eyes and frustrated groans, at the very least he was interacting with you.

"So?" this time she asked the question. Her eyes showed how hurt she was and he could barely look at them.

As he turned to face her, Y/N noticed tears welling up in his eyes. She didn't understand.

"You really think I don't mean it? Y/N you consume my thoughts in the best and worst way ever. I think about you all the time. All I ever want to do is speak with you and I don't care if it means you'll hate me, I won't stop doing it because I am selfish like that. I don't want to feel miserable, and the only way I have to do that is if I speak to you. You can tell me you despise me a thousand times but I won't care as long as you're in front of me, addressing me, acknowledging my presence." As Yeonjun spoke Y/N could not believe his words. 

If it was just minutes ago she would've joked about how "you're so obsessed with me, jeez" but at that moment the expression on Yeonjun's face was making her want to cry. It seemed like he meant it.

He did mean it.

"You like me?" she asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

"I think like is a bit of an understatement at this point..." he chuckled looking into the distance, the palms of his hands rubbing against each other awkwardly.

Y/N moved closer to him. He did not register how close she got until she turned his head towards her with her hand.

They stared at each other, they are not sure for how long. It could have been mere seconds or hours on end. Then she moved closer and finally kissed him. 

She tilted her head as he deepened the kiss. 

Everything felt good. They were finally happy.

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fics #kpop fluff #kpop angst #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #txt yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun txt #yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together scenarios #tomorrow x together fics #txt #txt fics #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt post #tubatu #soobin #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #choi yeonjun fluff

[dreaming-medium]

Thanksgiving With You

Relationship: Lee Minho x reader

Tags: Pure fluff

Summary: Your plans to go home to America for Thanksgiving are uprooted the night before you're supposed to leave. Unable to stand seeing you upset, Minho decides to take matters into his own hands and make sure you get to celebrate no matter what.

------------------------------------------

The TV was on in the shared apartment, all of the boys were laying all over the couches in various comfy positions. Legs tangled up in knots, blankets draped over different laps. 

Living in the same building as one another definitely had its perks, that’s for sure. Even if everyone starts their days in their own apartments, by dinner time, everyone congregates to one. 

Today, you and Minho’s apartment was the lucky winner.

When you answered a roommate ad two years ago, you didn’t know it would come with seven other men on top of that. But, you wouldn’t change anything that’s happened since then.

Felix’s head rests on Hyunjin’s lap while he plays on his phone with Changbin watching over his shoulder. Seungmin takes up two seats while Jeongin sits on the ground next to his legs. Minho is lounging in the corner seat of the couch, Chan on his left, Jisung on his right. 

For the first time, they’re all silent. Each of their conversations were cut short when a news broadcast cut through the movie they were “watching”.

A female news anchor sat behind a desk looking directly into the camera. 

“We interrupt your program with a breaking news report from The National Weather Service. Please be advised that there is extreme adverse weather expected to affect Seoul beginning tomorrow. All airports, roads, and businesses will remain closed starting tomorrow, November 22nd, until further notice.”

Normally, none of the boys would care about a storm. This meant time off from work, time to relax and stay inside while everyone gets some much needed rest but…

“Minho!” your voice calls out into the living room. Your roommate perks up off the couch, tearing his eyes away from the news broadcast. “Can I borrow your neck pillow? I’m going to need it for the flight. Sixteen hours on the plane is going to be killer without it.”

His jaw clenches and he looks around at the other boys on the couch who all have equally flustered expressions. They each stare at one another like deer in headlights. 

“Ah,” he hums and looks around the room. 

Oh, you were so excited to go home for Thanksgiving, how was he going to tell you that the airport is closed due to the incoming storm? Why does he have to be the one to break the news to you? 

The news anchor continues talking about the snowstorm, predicting record levels of snowfall and high speed winds. 

All month, all you could talk about was how much you missed Thanksgiving: the turkey, the parade, the pie, everything. 

He didn’t really understand it.

“Minho?” You ask again when he doesn’t answer. Your figure appears in the doorway into the living room. 

As soon as you stand in front of all of them, their heads snap towards you.

Your eyes widen, obviously startled. “Guys?” You ask, laughing nervously. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Felix moves a bit, his mouth opening to say something before the news anchor cuts him off again. 

“Again, we repeat the broadcast:  Please be advised that there is extreme adverse weather expected to affect Seoul beginning tomorrow. All airports, roads, and businesses will remain closed starting tomorrow, November 22nd, until further notice.”

Your mouth drops open and you step further into the room to look at the TV. 

“What?” You say to yourself, your heart dropping to your stomach. Everyone else’s does as well from your devastated tone.

Chan reaches forward with the remote, turning the volume up for you to hear. 

“No, no…” you whisper.

Minho watches you, feeling his own heart break for you. 

“M-Maybe I can book a flight for tonight. The storm starts tomorrow, maybe I can get out at the last minute.” You practically run back to your room, frantically looking for your phone. 

All of the boys stay silent. 

Apple pie this, mashed potatoes that, homemade pineapple … something. Minho couldn’t remember what you had said. You would always talk too fast when you were excited. 

It only got harder for him to understand when you would go into English. 

On top of all of this, you haven’t been back to America since you moved here two years ago. It was going to be your first time home.

You were just so busy when you started your new job that there was never any time to take off. 

And now that you finally could? It’s falling through your fingers. 

“Such a shame…” Hyunjin is the first one to break the silence. His voice carries the same sadness that they all hold on their shoulders. 

Minho keeps looking down the hall where your room is, hoping to try and hear anything— any news of an earlier flight, a phone call, anything. 

Only a few moments pass before Minho gets too antsy to sit still. He stands up from the couch and makes his way down the hallway. 

Your door is cracked open a bit. 

When he gets closer, he hears you on the phone. “N-No, you don’t understand, I was going home for the holidays— Yes… Yes I understand that everyone else is too, b-but I haven’t been home in two years.”

You sound so heartbroken, it’s physically killing him. 

“There are no open seats? ….. the 5:30 flight? That’s in… that’s in ten minutes I live forty minutes away from the airport!”

Minho leans against the wall behind him, your open door to his left. 

“There’s nothing else? … No, I understand. Thank you very much for your time... You as well.”

There’s a long moment of silence and a thump against your mattress. 

Ten more seconds pass before he hears hiccups and sniffles coming from inside your room. That’s when Minho caves in, coming up to your door frame. 

He can never withstand hearing you cry, on the rare occasions that you do.

You look so small curled up on the edge of your bed, your head in your hands. Your suitcase is open on top of your bed with various clothes and toiletries all over the place. 

Your shoulders shake as you sob quietly into your hands. 

A frown pulls at his face. Minho reaches up and knocks gently on the doorframe. 

Your head shoots up in surprise, hands furiously wiping away the tears under your eyes. 

“Oh, hey Minho!” You try to smile, but the tears won’t stop, but you continue wiping them away. “Sorry, um… I don’t think I need your neck pillow after all.”

A sob wracks your chest. 

“Sorry,” you apologize again and wipe the tears some more. 

His frown depends and he walks over to the bed, taking a seat directly next to you. 

“You don’t need to apologize, Y/N.” 

You sniffle and look down at your lap, the sleeves of your sweater coming over your hands. “It’s dumb to be this upset, I know. I was just really looking forward to Thanksgiving, you know?”

His entire side is pressed against yours. His warmth seeps into you in a comforting manner. 

Minho listens to you carefully. He’s never been the best at comforting a crying person, he knows that, but he’s learned that all you ever crave when you’re upset is someone to listen. 

“We have this tradition in my family, god, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to do it,” you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “We wake up around nine, and my sister and I make cinnamon rolls and watch the Macy’s parade from New York while we eat them. Then, while we get ready we watch the National dog show and ugh…” 

He leans back on one of his hands placed behind you on your bed. The cogs in his brain are already turning. 

Cinnamon rolls… Parade…

“God, I really missed my mom’s Pecan Pie.”

“Pecan Pie.” Minho mouths to himself. You don’t see it. 

You sniffle. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, his hand coming up to rub your back gently. 

“It’s alright, there’s always Christmas. The airline said they can move my ticket without me losing money. I guess it’s better to go then.” You hum and wipe the tears off your face again. 

Not knowing what else to say, Minho stays quiet, his hand continuing to rub up and down your spine. 

He knows next to nothing about Thanksgiving; it’s an American holiday. All he knows are the little things he’s seen in movies: turkey, hats with buckles on them, eating until you explode. 

What parade did you say? Macy’s Parade? Okay…

Minho loses track of how long you both sit there, you trying to pull yourself together while he rubs your back. 

His eyes dart around the floor unfocused as he makes a mental checklist in his head. He’s definitely going to need to employ the help of the seven other men in his living room if he hopes to pull this off. 

“Thank you, Minho.” Your voice pulls his attention. He looks over at your face, hand pausing between your shoulder blades. 

Your eyes are red rimmed and cheeks are rosy from all your crying. A sad smile sits on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he responds, getting a bit flustered under your gaze. 

You move your head to rest on his shoulder, like second nature, his arm wraps around your shoulders and keeps you close. 

Butterflies swirl in his stomach at the contact. Yes, you’re his roommate, but it was in the last six months or so that his heart started seeing you as so much more. 

It all started with you cooking his favorite dinner when you knew he had just had one of the worst days of his life. 

He had texted you around noon complaining about the rough day he was having, you consoled him shortly, and that was that. 

The day had dragged on, getting worse and worse; he opened the door to your shared apartment around midnight to find you moving around the kitchen. 

When he peered over your shoulder and saw his favorite meal, his heart melted. 

“To cure your bad day,” you smiled at him. 

He fell so hard for you, there was no coming back.  

Minho turns his head to rest his chin on the crown of your hair. 

“Well, I have off work; maybe I can take the day to catch up on a project without being bothered to join meetings.” You trail off. 

“Or you could take the day to relax.” He chuckles. 

You pause. “Nah.”

He laughs again and hugs you close. 

“I better unpack everything.” You peel yourself out of his arms. Minho’s body already feels so much colder without you pressed against him. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” Minho stands up from your bed and makes towards the door. 

“Minho,” you grab his attention. He turns back to look at you. 

You’re smiling at him again, but the sparkle is missing from your eyes. 

“Thank you, really.” 

“Of course, Y/N.”

Minho pulls your door closed behind him and makes his way down the hall. He has a mission and a checklist. 

And he needed to get to the grocery store tonight if he wanted to pull it off.

----------------------------------------------

Three quick knocks rap against your door at 9:00 AM sharp on November 23rd. 

With a disgruntled groan, you shift around in bed and pull the blankets up over your shoulder more. 

After a few seconds, the door cracks open slowly, the hinges creaking loudly in the silent morning air. 

A huff-like laugh forced through the invader’s nose. 

Slippers pad against the carpet of your room and the mattress dips down on the side of your bed. 

Gentle, warm fingers push your hair off your forehead. Your eyes squint a bit and you snuggle further into your blanket. 

“Minhooo…” you whine without opening your eyes. “I have the day off, remember? I don’t need to wake up.”

“Ah,” he hums, fingers still carding through your hair. “But the parade is on.”

Your brain is still booting up. All your movements pause, your eyes snap open and you look at the man sitting on the side of your bed. 

He’s in his cooking apron; the blue one you got him for his birthday last year. 

“What?”

That smirk of his spreads over his face, his eyes squint the more he smiles down at you. “The parade is on, Y/N, don’t you want to watch it?”

With wide eyes, you stare at your roommate. “The.. parade? The Macy’s Day Parade?”

He hums with a beautiful, genuine smile. “I didn’t think you wanted to miss it.”

You sit up and kick the blankets off, leaping out of bed and down the hallway. Minho’s laughter follows you. 

Sure enough, playing on your TV, is the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, from New York City. 

“Wha…” you trail off. If it’s 9 AM here… it’s only 7 PM the night before Thanksgiving in New York, how is he…?

Your eyes scan the TV to see the small graphic that displays “2022” in the corner. 

He’s playing a recorded broadcast of last year's parade. A laugh of disbelief bubbles out of your chest and you whirl around to look at your roommate standing in the hallway. 

“Minho!” You squeal. 

“We still have to bake cinnamon rolls, come on.” He waves you to follow him to the kitchen. Your jaw drops and you can only stare at him. 

Minho looks over his shoulder and sees you’re not following him. “Are you coming? I’m not baking them by myself!”

Another snort of disbelief forces its way out. Your one hand reaches over and pinches your arm. 

“No, I’m awake,” you whisper to yourself. 

The sound of the parade announcers talking in their thick New York accent makes you feel right at home. There was a specific sound quality of audio that comes from these events and it brings you right back to the East Coast. 

Minho walks into the kitchen and you follow after him with an extra spring in your step. 

———————————————

“And here comes Snoopy and his good friend Woodstock!”  The TV announcer says happily. 

You take another bite of your cinnamon roll, chewing happily and watching the TV. Doongie  curled up next to you, tail swishing around. 

Minho can’t decide what he wants to watch more: you or the TV. You’re positively beaming, and he hasn’t even told you the best part yet. 

He scratches Soonie’s head absentmindedly.

There’s a couple knocks on the door.

“Come in!” Minho calls out. 

The door creaks open. “Minho, your timer went off. I think you need to baste the turkey.”

Your head whips around to see Felix poking his head into the apartment. He makes eye contact with you and his smile brightens instantly. 

“Hi, Y/N! Happy Thanksgiving!” Felix chirps from the door. 

“Thank you?” 

Minho stands up off the couch, “Thanks, Felix, I’ll be right over.”

“Gotcha, see you soon, Y/N!” Felix closes the door behind him. 

You look up at Minho. “Turkey? You’re making a turkey?”

He stands in front of you and smiles. “I am, you can’t have Thanksgiving dinner without turkey, right?”

“You– Are we..?”

“We are. But not until after the parade, and the dog show, of course. I told everyone to come around 2:00, that works, right?”

You stare up at him, cinnamon roll still in your hand. 

“Y… Yeah, that works.” You truly cannot believe your ears. Are you sure you’re not still sleeping? Do you need to pinch yourself again?

“Good, I’ll be right back.”

Minho moves past you towards the door, scratching your head a few times as he passes by. You make no move to fix your hair after he leaves. 

Slowly, you take another bite of the roll, eyes spacing out watching the parade. 

Inside your chest, you can feel your heart stutter and swell, heat rising to your cheeks and turning your ears red. He’s really doing so much for you, isn’t he?

----------------------------------------------

“Y/N! Come on out, Chan and Jisung are here and Jeongin needs help with the mashed potatoes!” Minho calls down the hall. 

Like a kid on Christmas, you peel down the hall, adjusting the earring you’re wearing. 

You’re in a black turtleneck tucked into a cute light brown pencil skirt with black tights and fuzzy socks. The most typical Thanksgiving outfit. 

Your favorite jewelry adorning your body. 

The four boys turn around and greet you happily. Each of them in their own fuzzy sweaters and comfy pants. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” They all say to you in unison. 

“Ah, happy Thanksgiving!” You cheer back and wrap Jisung and Chan into a tight hug since they were the closest. “Thank you so much for this!”

Both of them wrap an arm around you with giddy smiles. “It was all Minho’s idea,” says Chan. “If you wanna thank anyone, thank him.”

“Or you could help, instead.” Minho teases from behind the kitchen counter, sliding over a can of cranberry sauce.

“Oh my god!” You squeal and come around to grab it. “Where did you find this? I didn’t think any stores in Korea sold this!”

Minho hums happily and stirs a pot on the stove. “There’s an American store a few blocks away. It’s where I got most of the groceries for today.”

A timer beeps at the same time the door swings open. 

“Hot bird coming through!” Felix calls into the room. “I have a turkey too!”

Everyone gives Felix a pity laugh as briskly walks towards the kitchen and places the cooked turkey onto the counter. The smell that wafts through the house is heavenly. 

Jisung hands you a glass of sangria with a wink. You clink glasses and take a small sip. 

Changbin walks through the door after Felix, holding a stack of about three pies in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” he calls inside as he kicks his shoes off.

Everyone responds with the same greeting. 

 “Minho, where do you want desserts?” 

“Just put them on the side by the main table for now!”

There’s more hustle and bustle next to you while Jisung attempts to use the can opener for the cranberry sauce. 

“Y/N, could you help me? I don’t think I’ve ever made mashed potatoes before…” Jeongin trails off in front of a pot of boiled potatoes. 

You beam at him and skip over to his side. “I absolutely can, it’s a lot easier than you think!”

Chan walks over to the living area with the couches. 

“What do you usually have on the TV at home?” he calls in to you.

You’re dumping all of the potatoes into a mixing bowl while you answer him. “Typically, my dad commandeers the TV and has football playing all day, but I really don’t want to watch old football reruns.”

Jeongin watches over your shoulder as you shake the bowl to settle the potatoes. “Could you grab the butter and milk from the fridge?” You ask him and he nods and walks off.

Seungmin comes in with Hyunjin, both of them holding trays of food.

You greet the two of them happily.

While Jeongin is gathering the ingredients from the fridge, you take a moment to look around at all of the boys in your apartment. 

They must have looked up ‘What to wear to Thanksgiving’; each of them is in a sweater and dress pants. Some of them have turtlenecks underneath the sweater, some don’t, but they all look like the same font as one another. 

“What can I do to help?” Seungmin asks, him and Hyunjin further crowding the kitchen.

“Go set the table with Hyunjin.” Minho points to the long dining room table, shooing them out of the already small space. Plates, napkins, forks, knives, glasses– everything you can think of, is placed on the corner of the table in stacks and piles.

“I’ll help too!” Felix chirps and makes his way over with the two men.

“Y/N!” Changbin calls your attention. Both him and Chan have beer bottles in their hands, bodies facing the TV. The two of them look like dads with the way they’re standing. “What about a Christmas movie? Is that allowed on Thanksgiving?”

Jeongin plops the milk and butter on the counter next to you. 

You call back into the living room. “Yeah, that’s fine! But make it a good one– a classic! Oh! What about Christmas Vacation? That’s my favorite!”

“I’ll find it, don’t worry!” Chan responds. 

Another timer beeps, Minho opens the oven and pulls out a tray full of fresh rolls. Jisung finally wrestles the can of cranberry sauce open. 

Your heart grows three sizes. 

“Ten more minutes on the Pineapple Bake.” Minho says to himself but you hear it.

Your head snaps around so fast it might tumble off your shoulders. “Pineapple Bake? You made Pineapple Bake?”

A flush crawls up Minho’s neck to his ears when he turns and meets your sparkly eyes. 

“You had mentioned it…” he trails off and finds something else on the counter to fidget with.

“How did you get the recipe?”

“Ah, well,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I have your mother’s number from when you first moved in and all.”

“You texted my mom?”

“Is that alright?”

The hustle and bustle of the seven other bodies around your apartment fades into the background. Even with Jeongin standing directly next to you, he seems to disappear. 

“You texted my mom and asked for her Pineapple Bake recipe?” You choke out again, your eyebrows raising, lips parting in an emotionally shocked expression.

Minho visibly gets a bit more nervous at your repeated question. His jaw clenches and he plays with the tie of the apron. “Did I overstep?”

Without any warning, you cross the few steps of the kitchen towards him and throw your arms around your roommate, burying your face into his shoulder. Small tears of joy well in the corners of your eyes, throat constricting with so many emotions.

After a moment of hesitation, Minho wraps his arms around you and rests his cheek on top of your hair. 

“Thank you, Minho,” you whisper to him, squeezing him even tighter. 

Minho’s shoulders visibly react from your hug, relaxing from the tension of the past few moments. 

He smells like the holidays, the softness of his sweater is so comforting against your cheek. You just want to bury your nose in it and drown in the scent.

“This means so much to me.” Your words are so sincere, he could cry from hearing them. His arms tighten around you, eyes closing to relish in your hold.

He basks in it. Despite a third timer screaming in his ear, he continues to hold you like if he let go, you would disappear forever.

Having you in his arms like this has always been the equivalent of drinking warm tea before bed. It sends a wave of comfort and safety through his entire being.

The timer continues to beep.

“You can thank me after you eat.” 

You giggle, any sadness he’s ever felt disappears for a split second.

Hyunjin calls into this kitchen. “Can you please turn that thing off before I go insane?”

Minho sighs, the air blowing into your hair. He keeps you close for a few more heartbeats before letting go.

“It’s time for dinner anyway.”

----------------------------------------------

Everyone was quiet, the TV still playing Christmas movies in the background. The streaming service that Chan had put on had autoplayed movie after movie while you ate dinner and then dessert.

The last surprise Minho had for you was that he also had asked your mother for her Pecan Pie recipe two nights ago. 

Everything about today left you floored and speechless. Your heart has never felt this full in your life. 

All eight of them sat around the table looking uncomfortably full. The table that was once filled with every side dish known to Thanksgiving enjoyers, every dessert you could dream of, was now littered with empty dishes. 

“We should just be thankful for being together. I think that’s what they mean by Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown.” Marcie’s animated voice rings through the apartment.

Again, your throat tightens up with so many happy emotions, you clench your jaw to keep them down.

From directly next to you, Minho must’ve noticed your expression, his hand reaching under the table and resting on your knee, squeezing it once to comfort you.

You look over at him.

His heart catches in his chest.

There’s that sparkle in your eyes. The one that disappeared two nights ago, he got it back. His entire face softens as he stares at you as if you hung the moon and vice versa.

“I need a nap,” Felix groans from his chair.

You hum and look over at him. He’s slumped in his seat, head back, eyes closed. 

“That’s the best part of Thanksgiving, sleeping with a full stomach.” You tell him.

“Full is an understatement.” Jeongin adds.

“I think I found a new favorite holiday…” Changbin trails off.

“Ditto,” adds Chan.

“Yeah? Well maybe we can have a Friendsgiving next year and do it all over again.” You tell the table.

Minho groans. “I’ll need more help next time, then!”

Everyone grunts in agreement.

You reach under the table and take a hold of Minho’s hand still on your leg. Your fingers wind together and you beam at him again with that dazzling smile. 

“I would do anything to do this again.”

----------------------------------------------

“I still can’t believe they took that many leftovers,” Minho mutters, dipping the sponge in the sink.

“I can’t believe we had that many leftovers.” You dry a dish with the towel and place it on the other clean ones. 

The exhaustion from eating is still heavy in your bones; but both you and Minho decided it was better to get all the washing out of the way so that you could just relax for the rest of the night.

It felt like you’ve been washing dishes for hours. 

Soft twinkling of Christmas music plays through the speakers of the TV from the movie. 

“Minho?” You ask suddenly, your voice is a bit weak and unconfident.

He looks over at you with his undivided attention, one eyebrow raised.

“There’s one more Thanksgiving tradition I didn’t tell you about.”

His eyebrows furrow more and he puts the dish down in the sink full of sudsy water. “What is it?”

Smiling, you put the towel down.

“Will you dance to Christmas music with me? To ring in the Holiday Season.”

Minho’s taken aback for a moment, he laughs– almost in disbelief. “Really?”

You bite your lip nervously, nodding once.

With a playful smile, he grabs the towel and dries his hands. “You want to dance? We can dance, Y/N.”

Squealing, you happily skip to the living room. “Alexa, play Christmas music!” You call out and she immediately begins to play music at the perfect volume.

Frank Sinatra’s ‘I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm’ plays through the speaker. The happy saxophones and trumpets blare and your spirits lift even more than you thought they could.

You bounce on your heels to the beat a few times, swaying with the rhythm in a silly way. 

When you turn around, you see Minho stepping towards you to the beat. One of the happiest looks ever on his face. His hair still slightly styled from this morning, just a bit more relaxed as the day went on.

His sweater is so cozy with a black turtleneck underneath, heather gray dress pants on the bottom. Lee Minho looks like the Holidays wrapped up in a warm, cable knit package, and he’s currently dancing towards you.

Once he is up on you, he takes your one hand and places the other on your waist. Both of you look like absolute goof balls, swaying and bobbing to the rhythm of Frank Sinatra in your living room. 

The scent of Thanksgiving dinner still hangs in the air; the warmth from the ovens and stove hasn’t faded one bit.

Minho leads you all around the living room in a beautifully clumsy dance. The smiles on your faces never drop, even for a moment. They only grow with each giggle passed from one to another.

His eyes stay locked with yours the entire time. Nothing could interrupt your moment,

You mouth the lyrics to him; it’s English, so he’s not really able to keep up as much. But the emotion is there. And just the idea that you’re singing to him makes his heart soar. 

“What do I care how much it may storm,” you sing, “I’ve got my love to keep me warm.”

Minho spins you around, you squeal with happiness with your arm above your head. He brings you back in and grabs your waist with both hands, lifting you into the air and twirling more as the music swells. You place both of your hands on his shoulders for balance.

He gently places you back on the ground, the song ending and fading into the next one. 

Michael Buble’s ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ follows it up. The rhythm of the song slows down the energy in the room dramatically.

Neither you nor Minho let go of one another. Instead of backing away, the two of you step even closer. Your arms wind around his neck, his hands interlock on your lower back.

Your eyes look all around his perfect face, meanwhile his stay locked on your eyes. He’s so enchanted by you, it feels like you placed him under some sort of spell.

If he could, Minho would do this entire day over and over again until he died, just to see this beautiful look in your eye each time, to hear your glee filled laughter after each surprise. 

Instead of moving around the room, the two of you simply sway side to side in time with the beat of the song. Minho spins the two of you very slowly in place.

A beautiful, festive, Christmas bubble begins forming around the two of you. 

“I cannot even begin to tell you how much today meant to me, Minho.” You break the silence between the two of you.

He chuckles. “I’m glad I was able to do it for you, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever run to the store that fast in my life.”

Mirroring him, you laugh softly. “I can only imagine what you looked like trying to get everything together.”

He moves his head side to side. “I had a lot of help.”

You shake your head. “This was quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“You deserve it.”

Another laugh from you. He just watches you. He watches each emotion cross your face with such admiration, with such a fond, sweet gaze, it could rot your teeth. 

Piano keys tinkle in the music. Michael Buble’s smooth voice wrapping around your private bubble.

“I am endlessly thankful for you, Lee Minho.” 

His gaze softens even more. 

You’re his soft spot. You– beautiful, wonderful, joyous you– are Lee Minho’s weak point. 

Slowly, the swaying to the song begins to slow down as you both get lost within one another. Everything about the scene was like a movie, down to the storm swelling outside your window.

Minho’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second.

You grin. His heart thuds in his chest.

“I don’t suppose you got any mistletoe?” you ask cheekily.

His eyes widen for a second, but he quickly catches on to your joke. “That wasn’t on any of the Thanksgiving websites I found.”

“Oh well.”

Without another word, and with the goofiest of grins on both of your faces, you pull Minho in for a kiss. 

His entire world stops when his lips meet yours, everything pauses and the only thing that exists is you. Nothing else matters except for the girl in his arms.

The world could end right now and he would be the happiest man on Earth.

Both of his arms tighten around you, one hand comes up to cup your cheek, cradling it softly. 

Your arms around his neck bring him even closer to you.

His kiss is everything, it’s sugar cookies rising in the oven, it’s a sunrise on the beach, it’s waking up to the smell of cinnamon rolls on Thanksgiving– everything.

It’s everything you’ve always needed. He is everything you’ve always needed.

Eventually, the two of you pull away from one another, but not without a last few stolen pecks on the other’s lips. 

The kisses end up short, you both keep smiling and pulling away, too happy to continue. 

Minho keeps his eyes closed, his thumb brushes over your cheekbone. “I think I have a new favorite holiday.” Another peck to your lips. 

You giggle and kiss him again and again, “Me too, Lee Minho.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know drabble #lee minho x y/n #lee know reader insert #lee know fanfic #lee know is the definition of If He Wanted To He Would #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n

[dont-touch-the-phlebotinum]

"Are you sure you don't want a hand?" Eddie says as he watches Wayne at the sink. "I'm pretty sure it's bad hosting etiquette to make your guests cook dinner and wash up after."

"Family don't count as guests." Wayne fends Eddie off with a surprisingly sharp elbow when he tries to step in. "You've got more'n enough on your plate as it is. So how 'bout you let me feel useful and help you out in peace?"

Grinning, Eddie holds his hands up in surrender. "Shit, if you insist, dude." He grabs a dish towel and starts drying, ignoring the dangerous look Wayne levels at him for it. "I gotta say, though, it's weird as shit you begging me not to wash the dishes."

"It's plenty weird you actually wanting to."

They stand there together in Eddie's cramped kitchen, a comforting echo of so many evenings back in their trailer, though this time instead of the radio it's the sound of soft cries that fill the room. Eddie glances back towards the open door of the apartment's tiny second bedroom, watches Steve rock their newborn son in his arms as he gently shushes him.

Wayne's watching with a crinkly-eyed smile as well when Eddie finally manages to tear his gaze away – though it's unlikely he has quite the same appreciation for the view as Eddie. "You want me to stick around," he says, "let you two get some rest?"

"Nah, you go on home. You need all the beauty sleep you can get."

"Laugh all you want, punk; this'll be you before you know it."

Eddie's taking a step to follow Wayne out towards the apartment door when his eyes land on the document sitting on the kitchen counter. "Hey, Wayne?" he says. "Would you sign this for me?"

"What is it?"

"Adoption papers."

Wayne pauses, his hand still outstretched to take the papers from Eddie, and he looks back up in surprise. "Don't tell me you boys are taking on another one already."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, no," says Eddie. He can still hear Steve in the nursery, a hint of desperation in his voice as he tries valiantly to lull Sam to sleep. He shoots Eddie a pained look when Eddie glances over to him.

He doesn't want to even think about having another kid until the sleepless nights and exhaustion have turned into nothing more than a hazy, rosy-coloured memory.

"No," Eddie says to Wayne. "These are, uh – these are for me."

Wayne takes the papers from Eddie's hand – just as well, since he's about five seconds from crumpling them beyond recognition with his anxious fidgeting – and gives them a long, close look. There's some complicated expression on his face when he meets Eddie's gaze again.

"You sure about this, son?" he says, voice barely more than a whisper.

Eddie nods.

"I mean, only if you want to, obviously," he adds quickly. "It's not a big deal or anything. I just thought–"

But before he can backtrack, play the whole thing off like some dumb joke and not something he's been thinking about more and more over the past few months, Wayne's pushing past him to head back into the kitchen. He snatches up a pen and signs his name right there next to Eddie's.

The pen falls onto the counter with a decisive clatter.

Eddie just stands gaping in the doorway. He's not sure he's actually taken a breath since he broached the subject, so there's a good chance he's gonna pass the fuck out any second now.

Shit, maybe he already has.

"Nice to make it official," says Wayne. His voice is unusually tight. He looks back at Eddie with a watery smile. "But I never needed no piece of paper to tell me what I already know."

Eddie nods. He has to bite his bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. His eyes are misting up too much to make out Wayne's expression, but he can hear him sniffing.

"You all right, Wayne?"

"Allergies playing up is all," he says brusquely.

"Yeah." Eddie scrubs at his cheeks with the back of his sleeve. "Mine too."

He's barrelling into Wayne then. Wayne's already braced for impact, open arms ready to pull Eddie in close and hold him tight. Eddie buries his face in Wayne's shirt, and the floodgates open.

They're still clinging to each other when Steve finally steps back into the main room. He looks between them, both red faced and snotty and sobbing, with a smile.

"So that's a yes, huh?" he says, once they eventually break apart.

#eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie #eddie munson fic #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #my writing

[angelfic]

Hi babes!, I was wondering if I could request a Lorenzo Berkshire fic from the event?, here’s the thingy!, forbidden love + prompt 18!, sorry if this was a little confusing I have never requested something from a event 😭, but please and thank you!!,

- oh and!, if it’s okay could you pick out an emoji for me ?, to be like an emoji anon!!, that’s it!! <333

hi, angel!! thank you sm for the request, not confusing at all, my love! writing this has made me realise there’s a criminally small number of lorenzo fics :( am very happy to oblige haha how’s the 🍓 emoji?

lorenzo berkshire x reader + forbidden romance + “yeah, I love you. so what?”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

You’re struggling with keeping all of your limbs inside the invisibility cloak you borrowed from Harry when Peeves glides into the empty classroom. You freeze in place until he floats his way back out, all the while singing what you’re sure is some kind of stupid limerick.

Okay, so you stole the cloak and it’s after curfew and if Peeves catches you, you’re in a million different kinds of trouble. Nevertheless, you relax slightly when you’re alone again, remaining under the cloak to consult the Marauder’s Map that you also may have taken without express permission. Okay, any permission at all.

Scanning the unfolded piece of parchment, your eyes land on Lorenzo’s name which seems to have stopped in place at… the classroom that you’re in.

You look up to find the classroom still empty, but before you can get up to investigate, a set of arms wraps around you from behind and you gasp, barely able to contain a shriek of fright.

You wriggle out from under the invisibility cloak, turning around on the table you’re perched on to find Lorenzo grinning at you, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“What the fuck, Enzo?!” you whisper-scream, smacking his arm. He merely giggles and brings your legs around on the table so you’re facing him, hands remaining on your thighs. He leans in to press a chaste kiss against your lips and you quickly kiss him back before pulling away to look at him, confused. “How the hell did you see me under the cloak?”

“Your shoe laces were hanging out the bottom, love,” he explains, smirking as he looks down at the untied pair of converse you quickly pulled on when you snuck out of your dorm in pyjamas.

You frown at the offending laces, swinging ur legs back and forth between where Lorenzo stands. “Have to remember that for next time.”

“Why does there have to be a next time?” Lorenzo groans, voicing his frustrations about your very secret relationship yet again. “I don’t want to have to see you in dark classrooms or broom cupboards or anywhere secret. I still don’t understand why we can’t just tell people.”

“You know why, Enzo,” you say gently, tracing circles on the back of his hand with your finger. “My friends would freak out, your friends would freak out…”

“Okay, well, my friends can sod off,” Lorenzo says, matter-of-fact as he holds up two fingers and starts checking them off. “And your friends love me. There we are. Easily solved.”

You can’t help letting out a laugh at that and you drop your head onto Lorenzo’s shoulder to stifle your snorting. “My friends don’t love you, they just hate you the least.”

“What I’m hearing is that they don’t hate me the most,” he murmurs, peppering kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. “I’m taking that as a win.”

“You just don’t give up, do you?” you sigh, shivering from the brushing of his lips against your collarbone. “They’re just- Shit! Peeves!”

You push Lorenzo off you, startling him when you point to the giggling poltergeist who floats above the two of you. Before he can begin shrieking about the two of you and wake up the entire castle, Lorenzo whips out his wand and casts ‘Langlock’, causing whatever Peeves was about to say to turn into choking gurgles.

“You better keep quiet, you meddling little-” Lorenzo cuts himself off when Peeves zooms out of the classroom, clearly having lost interest in the situation at hand since he can’t weigh in on it. “Well, it was a good effort.”

“We had a good run,” you agree, frowning at the wall that Peeves just passed through. “And by tomorrow the entire school is going to know I love a Slytherin boy. Merlin, I’ll be the laughing stock of Gryffindor. Not as bad as the exile sentence into the mountains you’ll be getting though.”

“I can hardly breathe for laughing,” Lorenzo says drily, although his lips turn up into a reluctant smile. “There’ll be no exile, because they’re going to have to deal with it. Yeah, I love you. So what? Like I said, they can sod off.”

Knowing full well that Peeves is going to be making his rounds at every table in the Great Hall during breakfast, you have no doubt Lorenzo will be having to endure a similar conversation to you with his own friends. “I’d love to see you tell them exactly that,” you grin.

“Sit at the Slytherin table with me tomorrow and you will,” Lorenzo says cheekily, shifting you closer by your hips. You loop your arms around his neck and drop a kiss onto the tip of his nose.

“Not even if Godric Gryffindor himself came and kicked me off my table.”

#lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire #lorenzo x reader #lorenzo berkshire scenarios #lorenzo berkshire imagines #lorenzo berkshire fanfiction #2k writing game #🍓 anon #requests #anon #asks

[traveler-at-heart]

The Tooth Fairy

Summary: Your daughter gets a generous visit.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Sorry for the weird format, I’m on my phone. Also, fun game, drink everytime you find the word fairy in this fic 🧚

“Mom!”

Your daughhter’s scream puts you immediately on edge.

Her voice is quivering, as if she’s not sure she should be crying over what’s happening.

“What is it, sweetie?” you kneel next to her on the playground, mentally counting all her fingers and checking for injuries. You have to stay calm for her sake.

“My tooth fell off” Anya says, showing it to you. “Does this mean that I can’t eat chocolate anymore?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine” you pick her up and carry her to the park bench. “These are called baby teeth. They’ll fall off and then you’ll get your new ones. And those are for good.”

“Promise?”

“Well, yes. Unless you eat too much chocolate. Then you’ll get cavities”

Anya keeps looking at the tooth in her hand and then offers it to you. Closing one eye, you examine it as if it were a diamond.

“The tooth fairy is gonna be real happy with this one”

“There’s a fairy?” Anya perks up and you smile.

“Oh, yes. You have to leave it under your pillow with a small note and then they’ll pick it up. Leave you a dollar or two if they think it’s a good tooth”

“I wanna write the note, can we go home now?”

“Yes, sweetie” you carry her, relieved now that Anya seems happier.

—-

It’s not an easy task, but you persuade Anya to wait for her other mom to write the note. You’re sure Natasha wouldn’t wanna miss it.

After all, this is the same woman that almost cried when she was away on a mission and your daughter sneezed for the first time.

“I’m home” you hear the door open and close. Anya smiles, eager to tell her mom about the highlight of the day.

“Mama” she jumps to her arms, wavy red hair flying as Natasha catches her.

“Someone is very happy to see me”

“I’m happy to see you too” you say, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss.

“Then why aren’t you jumping into my arms?”

“Mama, I’m going to meet the tooth fairy!” Anya interrupts you, pulling her tooth from the pocket of her pants.

“Your first tooth? And I missed it?”

Damn it, she’s gonna cry again. You can’t have that.

“Baby, you didn’t miss it. Anya still has to write a letter. She’s been waiting for you”

“Yeah, come on” Anya bounces on her arms, encouraging Natasha to go to the living room.

“I’ll work on dinner while you two do that, ok?” you kiss Natasha’s cheek and let her enjoy the time with Anya.

From your spot on the kitchen, you can hear Anya asking all sorts of questions about the fairy lore.

She’s a smart kid, so all Natasha does is hand her the crayons she requests. Anya falls silent, and then begins to write the letter.

“All done?” your wife says and Anya covers the sheet of paper with her tiny hands.

“This is a secret letter”

Natasha looks at you, both struggling to hold your smiles.

“Dinner’s ready” you announce, serving pasta.

Anya giggles when the spaguetti goes through the whole her tooth left.

“Baby, don’t play with your food like that” you scold. Then you turn to Natasha for support, only to find her creating a spaguetti mustache that leaves her face full of sauce. “Honestly, Natalia”

“Mama is in trouble” Anya laughs.

“She’s doing the dishes, that’s for sure” you agree.

After dinner, Natasha prepares a bath for Anya while you clean the kitchen. You both know you’re too obsessive to leave the cleaning to anyone else.

You go to the study to write a small thank you note for Anya from the tooth fairy. You even add some glitter for extra flare.

Tucking it in the back of your pocket, you walk into your daughter’s room to wish her goodnight.

“Is it under your pillow?” you check and she nods, yawning.

“I wanna wait for them”

“Oh, the fairy only shows up when you’re asleep, darling. Like Santa”

“Are they friends?” Anya says, quickly falling asleep.

“Yeah, you could say they’re practically the same person” Natasha whispers and you nudge her with your elbow. Anya is already asleep, so it doesn’t really matter if she heard that last part.

Quietly, you take the letter from under her bed and place yours instead.

“Why are your hands all shiny?” Natasha asks as you’re getting ready for bed.

“Welll, I am a fairy, baby. Haven’t you heard?” you tap the tip of her nose, leaving some glitter on it.

“I’m happy I was here for this” Natasha says against your shoulder as you cuddle.

“Me too” you say, your eyelids heavy. “Oh, crap. I forgot to leave the money under Anya’s pillow”

“That’s ok, I’ll do it”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. You’re the stealthy spy here” you smile when Natasha kisses your neck and leaves the bed. You’re so tired you fall asleep before she comes back.

—

The smell of coffee wakes you up.

Coffee and pancakes. Stretching, you get out of bed, feeling relaxed and happy.

“Hey, baby” you greet your wife, admiring her toned arm muscles accentuated by the white tank top.

“Morning, detka” she smiles, adding more pancakes to the plate next to the stove. “Breakfast is ready”

“I’m hungry for other things” you lift the edge of her tank top, scratching Natasha’s abs with your nails. She follows your lead, tilting her head and parting her lips to let your tongue explore her mouth.

“Mom, mama!” Anya says, running out of her room. You sigh against Natasha’s lips and step away. “They were here! I woke up and there was a letter with some glitter”

“That’s awesome, sweetie” you smile, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You turn to your daughter as you take a sip.

“And look! She left me this!”

Anya waves a hundred dollar bill in front of you, making you choke on your coffee.

“Wow, that fairy won the lottery since the last time I saw her” you catch your breath.

“Is this enough to buy a pony?”

“No, darling. Go set the table, I’ll bring you some juice and pancakes, ok?”

“Can I watch tv while having breakfast?”

“Fine” Natasha answers and you wait for your daughter to be out of earshot to talk to her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, baby, did you leave all that money for Anya?”

“Yes, I didn’t know how much to put and you were asleep”

“Ok, for future reference, five bucks is more than fine” you smile, placing your hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry” she looks defeated and you try to cheer her up.

“Don’t be, it’s fine. We’ll use the savings we have for the rest of the teeh and then send her to community college”

“Stop!” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Come on, it’s ok” you kiss her softly. “We’ll tell her that the fairy had to pay her mortgage and is broke. I’ll even add less glitter on the next letter”

“You’re taking this glitter thing too seriously”

“Well, we have to rely on Alexei to play Santa. At least I get to have some fun with this”

—

Later that day, as your friends get together for a barbecue, Anya shows everyone the place where her tooth once was; luckily, she left the money at home.

That doesn’t stop Billy and Tommy from finding out. Pretty soon, they’re asking their mom about the tooth fairy and if there’s a special deal for twins.

“They left 100 dollars for Anya” Billy shouts and everyone falls silent.

“Oh, wow. Maybe the fairy can visit me as well” Sam smiles. You kick him under the table.

Unfortunately for Natasha, you have to explain everything when Wanda convinces the twins to go back to play.

“Don’t sweat it, Red. Everything’s so expensive nowadays, it’s only fair Anya starts saving now”

“Oh, you’re one to talk” Pepper points at Tony. “He left a blank check under Morgan’s pillow the first time she lost a tooth”

Everyone laughs at that, Tony adjusting in his seat.

“Would you like to adopt me?” Sam asks after a minute.

—

“I got the door” you whisper. Natasha is carrying Anya to her room. It was a fun afternoon of playing with friends and then doing the math on how many plushies she could get with all that money.

She’s fast asleep, and you wait by the door as Natasha tucks her in.

“You ok?” you want to double check, knowing she can be insecure about motherhood.

“I just wish I knew everything”

“Well, so do I. I wish I knew how to stay calm. Remember last week when she hurt her hand with the stove? I thought I was going to throw up and you handled it while I panicked”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s a lot, Tasha. We love you. And we need you” you kiss her softly and she smiles against your lips.

“Wanna read the letter?” you offer once you’re settled in bed. Your wife nods and you take it out of your nighstand. “Dear Miss Fairy - very formal. This is my tooth, it felll off while I was playing. Mom told me you take them and leave some money. My Mama helped me draw this. I love my moms and I want to buy them ice cream and chocolate with the money you give me. Hugs, Anya Romanoff”

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You both are” Natasha says as you cuddle, kissing her neck.

“We love you”

“So, what do we do next time?”

“We tell her the fairy is getting heer a car at 16 and hopefully she’ll forget about it by then” you smile, confident.

Of course, she doesn’t.

#natasha romanoflf x you #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader

[greynatomy]

vogue

kyra cooney-cross x reader

been in a bit of a writing slump and haven’t written anything until last night when i couldn’t sleep

something a bit different

———

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the sunlight that’s peaking through the curtains. Grabbing your phone, seeing as it’s seven in the morning. Rubbing a hand across your face, you sit up with your back leaning against the headboard, you start to record yourself on a camera you were given.

“Hey, guys.” You whisper. “It’s currently seven o’clock and i just woke up. Vogue had asked me to show you all my morning routine. So let’s get started.”

The video cuts to you standing in your bathroom.

“Okay. As you can see, I am now in my bathroom. I gotta still talk quietly though, so hopefully you can hear me.” You grab some things and lay them out in front of you. “So, today is a pretty chill day. I’ve just finished up my tour and I am back to living that domestic life. Since I don’t have any interviews and all that jazz, I’ll just be washing my face with this CeraVe face wash.”

A song plays as you put a headband on to keep your hair off and you wash your face, making sure it suds up nicely.

“Gotta make sure you get every crevice and have it nice and bubbly. I’ve seen other videos of people washing their face, but they’re not? Like I don’t even think they used any soap.” You laugh, rinsing your face with water and wiping it with a towel.

“Okay. Now, I’ve got this moisturizer. Also CeraVe. Love this brand, not sponsored by the way. Once that sets in my skin for a bit, I use this sunscreen that I got from Trader Joe’s. It’s my favorite because it doesn’t leave your face feeling oily.”

As you’re putting your sunscreen on, you fail to notice the door of the bathroom open.

“Darling.”

Turning around, you see your girlfriend slowly shuffling her feet towards you.

“Hey, babe. Finally up are you?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m filming that thing for Vogue. Wanna introduce yourself?”

Kyra pulls out the stool she kept in the bathroom, grabbing your waist to sit you on her lap.

“Oh, yeah.” Kyra is now more awake, now aware of the camera in front of her. “Hello, Vogue. My name is Kyra Cooney-Cross.”

“This is my girlfriend and now it’s her turn to wash her face.” Kyra washes her face as you talk to the camera, getting off her lap for a little while. “She uses the same products I use because she said ‘I know best’ and she didn’t know which to buy.”

Kyra sits back down on the chair so you sit back down on her lap, a routine that the viewers could tell that’s been going on for a while with how fluid the actions were.

“And now she’s going to put whatever products she chooses on my face.”

“Very needy this one is. I usually sit on her lap a different way, but let’s keep it pg.” You put the same products you put on you on her face.”

The video cuts to you in the kitchen.

“Now, it’s time to make breakfast. Kyra isn’t allowed anywhere near the stove because of an incident that happened a while ago.”

“At least I didn’t burn the house down.” Kyra walks up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and hold you close. She was now dressed in her training kit.

“But I will be making some avocado toast with an egg for the both of us. This is all we’ve been wanting to eat for breakfast lately so I’m making it again.”

A time lapse shows you and Kyra eating with music playing.

Now back in the bedroom, with clothes all over the bed can be seen.

“Okay. Today Kyra has an open practice meaning that fans are allowed to be there while they practice. I’ve chosen to wear something comfortable so I went with some joggers and one of her jerseys. I was gonna go with a ‘Russo’ jersey but she threw a fit.”

“I did not!” The faint sound of Kyra’s voice was heard.

“She did.” You cup a hand around your mouth, whispering to the camera. “And this bucket hat to hopefully keep me incognito.” You take a step back to show your whole outfit.

The video cuts to you in the backseat of a car.

“We are now on our way to training. I will not be training but they are.” You flip the camera towards your girlfriend, Katie, and Caitlin. “Kyra doesn’t have her license and I refuse to drive on the other side of the road so we’re carpooling! Yay! Guys say ‘hi’ to the people.”

“Hi, people.” “Hey, guys.”

“Katie is the one driving us and Caitlin is the other one.”

“Wow! I’m just the other one?” Caitlin places a hand over her chest, feigned hurt by your words.

“Yup. And that’s really all for my morning routine. I’ll be doing some work on my laptop that I’m bringing and watching all these athletic people workout and make me feel bad about myself. So, yeah. Thanks for coming along this morning. Say ‘bye’ guys.”

“Bye!”

#woso x reader #woso #greynatomy #woso imagines #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kcc #matildas

[xo-kyeong]

Laughter and mild snickering are all you hear from behind the door.

God, this is embarrassing

“COME ON Y/N!” Mina shouts from the living room of your shared dorm, all 5 of them waiting for you to test if your shared dorm had soundproof walls.

“WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SEX NOISES?” You ask in humiliation. Fuck they’re gonna have a field day with this. “Y/n! My arms are getting tired from holding the phone! Get on with it already!” Denki whines.

“WHY DON’T YOU GUYS DO IT, WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE ME?” You cry out as you bang your head dramatically onto the door. Am I really doing this?

“Should I like- moan like how a normal person would moan?” You ask sheepishly. Sero and Bakugou are behind Denki trying their hardest to contain their laughter.

Kirishima, Denki, and Mina on the other hand are ruthless. Absolutely dying of laughter.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO!!” You cry out in protest, but they’re all insisting you do it.

“Y/n, how are we supposed to know if one of us can invite someone over?” Sero insists.

Then again, you’ve been dying to get yourself off for a while now because of your hectic schedule. Maybe knowing if your roomies can hear you pleasuring yourself is useful information after all.

“Okay okay- OH MY GOD I CAN’T” you laugh a bit out of embarrassment and they all laugh with you because this is pretty stupid.

“Sero will go in and test with you! That way you won’t be the only one feeling embarrassed!” Mina suggests, and that idea actually made the situation even worse.

There’s nothing more humiliating than to hear your friend’s moans and him hearing yours!

“WHAT? I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS-“ Sero protests, eyebrows raised and arms up as if he was adamant. But then after a few minutes of teasing from Mina and Denki, he finally caved in and joined you in the room.

“You really don’t have to do this you know?” You tell Sero, I mean, he’s probably uncomfortable-

“I don’t mind, besides, I’ve always liked your voice in bed” you’re full-blown red and flustered.

“We’re roommates Sero! You can’t be saying shit like that” you turn away, hiding your reddened face from his devilishly handsome (and irritating) face.

“Who says we can’t? Why don’t I start first, hmm?” He gives Denki the go signal and starts clapping.

“Sero- omg” you were hysterical, this is just downright stupid.

“Go on, just say ‘oh’ or whatever, better yet, say my name instead” he gives you a wink and you roll your eyes at him, fighting the urge to actually tackle this man and literally make this “fake” scenario into a reality.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this-“ you take a breath and started whimpering as Sero was clapping his hands at a steady pace.

“You’re so tight y/n- fuck” Sero shamelessly moaned, causing everyone outside the room to cackle.

“You’re brave” you whispered.

“But I should be the one making sounds here” you teased. And that riled him up, the way you went from utterly humiliated to bold and daring just did something to him. You effortlessly matched his energy just like that.

“Mhm, oh my god Sero- Oh keep going” you closed your eyes dramatically, trying to make this scenario as realistic as possible.

Sero quickened the pace of his clapping, groaning with you.

“Oh my god Sero, I’m gonna-“ you whimper and moan as you would if you were actually having sex. And Sero isn’t going to lie, he didn’t know if he should be worried because you moan so well that when he DOES have sex with you he might think you’re just faking it for his ego.

Both of you calmed down and stepped out of the room, looking at Mina for their final verdict.

“Well, it’s slightly soundproof- we all just have to make sure that none of you boys go too rough on whoever you bring home. Got it?” Mina says while holding the phone and placing it in front of you and Sero.

You and Sero re-watched the clip, hearing most of Sero’s clapping. Your own moans weren’t that noticeable, other than your “oh’s” and Sero’s groans.

“Well- y/n you sure do know how to act like you’re getting railed- have you ever faked an orgasm before?” Mina curiously asks, and you couldn’t say anything other than a whispered “kind of”

“GIRL- WE WON’T KNOW IF YOU’RE BEING WELL TAKEN CARE OF! WE WOULD BARELY KNOW THE DIFFERENCE” Mina screams, making you turn your head away from her booming voice.

All four boys were equally shocked at your revelation, you’ve faked an orgasm before? their eyes were wide, and jaws dropped.

You sheepishly brush them off though, as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. but to Sero, it clearly is. The others let you off, except for him of course. The rest of them finally went into their own rooms, bidding everyone goodnight, you were about to go to your own room after you refill your water bottle, that is until a pair of hands wrapped around your waist. You knew who it was going to be, his long and slender arms are easily distinguishable. “Sero?” you hum, “why aren’t you going to bed yet, huh?” you close the lid of your water bottle so that you could turn around and face him. “you’ve never faked with me... right?” he looks down at you with pleading eyes, he looks just like a begging puppy.  “oh, Sero. my poor baby, couldn’t get your mind off of that?” you chuckle at him when he holds you closer. “I’m serious y/n! do you actually feel good?” he whines, and that has you laughing lightly at how needy and desperate he sounds. “Sero, I’ve never faked an orgasm with you. in-fact, you’re the one and only guy who ever treated me right” you smile, wrapping your own arms around him to comfort him. Sighing when you savored his warmth and comfort. The fact that none of your other roommates know about your relationship is thrilling, yet sometimes it still manages to boil down to calm and quiet moments like this. “I love you, Sero” you look up at him, your eyes droopy due to the sudden sleepiness.  He reaches down to kiss you on the forehead, “I love you so much, Mi Amor” he rubs your cheek with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. It’s nice to have a secret relationship, calm and quaint.  But you’d be surprised to hear that 3 other people are listening in on your conversation, fully containing their excitement at how sweet you and Sero are to each other.

#sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #sero headcanons #sero hanta #my hero academia #bnha #bnha headcannons #bnha smut

[aka-indulgence]

A Kraken’s Rage

So after making this post I’ve decided to make it. Here’s a kraken, angry because someone stole his wife >:(

————

The rain beats down on the deck, the sound of crashing rain and storm surrounding you. You hear men shouting as the ship rocks back and forth. Your dress is soaked. If it kept you warm before, you’re cold now. The chill bled right under your skin down to your bones. You shiver and shudder uncontrollably.

I’d rather be tied up under the deck…

You strain against the thick, rough ropes that tied your middle. You were hoping that, maybe with the rain, you’d somehow be slippery enough to slip out of them. Of course that wasn’t the case- you felt stupid. You wanted to itch your arms so bad, the rope was horribly coarse and whenever you moved the frayed parts would scratch your skin. You grab onto the rope with the edges of your fingers and pulled at it, to no avail. None of the men were paying you much attention, too busy attending to the ship.

Except for one, apparently.

“Ay lass, why don’t ye stop your strugglin’,”

Your face sours as the captain of the ship walks over to you, back straight and shoulders wide, like a soldier. And just because he mentioned it, you try twice harder to pull at your ropes, trying to throw your weight around to no avail.

“I see ye keep struggling fer hours now. Why don’t ye give to the sky? Yer not gettin’ out of them ropes. They’re tight, I made sure of that.”

You growled at him. “What are you doing paying attention to me? Isn’t the captain supposed to pay attention to his crew and make sure this ship doesn’t fall apart?!”

He laughed. Oh you hate him, you hate him so much. You hated how he looked at you. His band of pirates raided your seaside town and he had the gall to ask you to be his wench. Of course you said no, but the big man apparently got offended by a little woman saying no, and dragged you to his ship. You’re not sure what he’s planning to do to you by the end of this, but he does enjoy causing your displeasure.

“Never been on a ship while the storm be raging? This here ship ‘as handled just fine. Ye on the other hand might run off an’ do somethin’ stupid again.”

You shut your eyes and muttered under your breath. “Please… save me Sans.”

“Who be ye prayin’ to, lass?” You opened your eyes and decidedly looked away from the captain. “I’m surprised ya ‘aven’t abandoned hope. No one can save ye. Ye can’t save yerself less than throwin’ yerself overboard.”

You flinch when you hear the sound of a sword being drawn, and the menacing glint of the captain’s sword close to your neck. You strain against the rope, trying to keep your distance.

“Unless ye want me to end yer voyage right now.”

“N… no…” you whisper, gritting your teeth, shuddering in fear this time.

The captain’s chuckle was stopped when there was a sound, off in the distance.

It was no thunder, and though you don’t think you’ve ever heard something like it, you felt a shiver up your spine. Like the sound of landmasses creaking before they split apart. You’re sure the men felt it too, because all of them stopped what they were doing, their voices falling silent. Even through the rain and the waves, you could hear your breath. The captain turns his head towards the crow’s nest and yells.

“Wayland! What it be!?”

“I-I don’t know sir! But there be something in the water!”

“Going to need more than that there, Wayland!” The captain growls. The rest of the men have run to the railing, trying to get a better look.

“I-it’s coming… It’s huge!”

Everyone collectively yelped when something bumped into the ship, sending a couple of men off their balance. The captain himself grabbed onto the mast to steady himself. The men still at the railing start to yell and curse, throwing themselves off and towards the middle of the ship.

“It’s a foul beast captain!”

“Then what be it?!” the captain shouts, getting impatient.

The men get increasingly frantic as another sound shakes the whole ship, this time much clearer and closer. It rumbled deeply, as if the ocean itself was growling at the ship.

There was a moment where everything went quiet, and all you could hear were the crashing waves, and the rain.

…

A wail rips out of the water, the sound of a hundred grieving whales. Then, tentacles the size of redwood trees split the waves, slamming onto the deck and taking a tight grip on it, sending a couple men flying out of the way.

Your mouth opens. The captain murmurs under his breath.

“No…”

“KRAKEN!!” Wayland cries, as a tentacle wraps around the mast above him.

“I see that now, Wayland!” The captain growls, as he runs off to bark orders at his crew.

Your heart pounds as a familiar skeleton hand digs its fingers into the deck, causing it to splinter and crack under it. A skull rises out of the water, big red lights in his sockets swimming red with rage, the monster gritting his teeth, staring at everyone on the ship. He rises halfway up his ribcage. His eyelights scan over the scene, looking at every person until you meet his eyes. In a blink, his expression changes, eyes turning into a familiar seafoam color.

The unmistakable sound of his purr cuts through the screams of the panicking men for a moment.

“Sans,” you breathe.

A ‘small’ smile widens on his mouth, and you see a tentacle approach you- before someone slices their sword into it.

Sans cries, the sound as loud as thunder. His eyelights shift to red once more, glaring at the man who’d done it, still attached to the hilt. He grimaces, sending a wave down his tentacle, flicking both the man and the sword off as if he was merely a mosquito. He slams down both hands on both sides of the ship, making it look like a toy.

He shrills, his voice rippling through the air and no doubt striking fear down to the pirates hearts. A voice booms through your mind.

YOU

TOOK

HER

AWAY

FROM

ME!

Screams erupt. Chaos takes over around you as the men try to fight off his tentacles with guns and swords, to no avail.

Your jaw goes slack as you watch them get tossed around like ragdolls. You squeak when a man gets slammed down next to you, his sword thrown out of his hand as a tentacle weighs heavily on him, before he gets wiped over the deck. He snatches them one by one, throwing them off into the raging skies. You see a man’s cry end as he gets choked by the tentacle constricting him.

One man’s scream fade as he’s picked up high above the sea, in front of Sans’ snarling face. His mouth opens, revealing the sharp monstrous teeth, like sharp rocks below the cliff, and he lets out a sky-splitting shriek, drowning the sounds of the man. Lightning strikes, coloring the sky white and leaving their silhouette as black as night.

You hear an awful crunching sound, then silence.

Rain trickles down your face like a river, from your forehead, over your nose, down your cheek to your chin.

Ahead of you, liquid falls to the deck. It isn’t rain.

The portside of the deck has been ripped off.  A tentacle grabs onto the bowspirit and snaps it off like a twig. His shadows move and dance over everyone. A lot of men have resorted to retreating below deck.

This… this Kraken’s Rage… his anger, the tentacles hooked on the ship, making it creak beyond what it’s capable of…

This was all for you. Maybe you should be afraid like the men much bigger and stronger than you, running for their life. But all you felt was wonderment for Sans, who had miraculously found his way to you.

The storm surged along with the kraken. The ocean a deep teal and the sky dark gray. Thunder crashed as he cried. It was as if he was the storm itself.

“W-whoa!” you exclaim, as the ship starts to rock back and forth so violently, that a wave crashes over the deck, seawater spraying your face.

“Sans! Help!”

He turns to look at you, and reaches with his hand. A finger as big as tree bark start to claw and pick at the ropes, until they split apart. You stumble out of your bindings and make your way to his hand, when you hear a yell.

“Fire in the hole!”

Your heart drops as the world slow downs for a few seconds, a cannonball shot at Sans’ ribcage.

“N-no!”

Fear strikes you, as you worry for a moment that your beloved kraken had just been shot through the chest with a bullet. It hits his rib and you hear an awful crack. Sans wails like a whale that’d just been harpooned, and your jaw falls as he falls backwards.

… But it doesn’t last long.

He growls, a flash of red in his sockets, and his fingers run through the starboard, the men falling with their cannons. You look over the side, seeing how long it takes for you to hear their splash. You swallow. The ship was bigger than you thought it was.

You shake your head, looking away from the water, and back to Sans. You make for him, but before you could get his attention, a pair of hands close around your arm.

“Agh!”

“Yer not going anywhere, lass.” You grit your teeth when you realize the captain’s dragging you away from what’s left of the rails.

“What are you doing?! Your ship’s a wreck, you should abandon ship!”

“We might ‘ave a fightin’ chance if we can get farrr away from that there beast ‘o yers. He might stop if he sees he might hurt ye…”

“Urgh… let go of me you scoundrel!”

You go back and forth from the captain, struggling for your life. You stomp the captain’s boot, but that only gets him to curse and pull you harsh enough that it felt like he’s trying to twist your arm off. You yelp, hating that despite using all your effort, the captain was still too strong for you to escape.

Luckily for you, there was someone far stronger than him.

As soon Sans saw what was happening, he shrieks, bringing both of your attention to him. His eyelights had locked on the hands on you, and that set him off. He let out a continuous high-pitched gurgling sound, and before the captain could unsheath his sword, a hand had slipped in between you and him, separating the both of you. The captain roars in frustration- sounding like a helpless seadog compared to Sans- eyes widening when a huge shadow looms over him, a tentacle posing to strike.

He manages to dodge at the last second by scrambling out of the way as it hits the deck like a cannonball. The cracks and crunches as the tentacle continues downwards makes it sound like it reached all the way to the bottom. You peek out of Sans’ fingers.

“Ah, ye missed me ye foul beast!” The captain shouts triumphantly. You grit your teeth and brace again Sans’ finger, wishing you could fight him yourself.

The captain celebrates too early, however, as the planks below him creak under his weight and cracks, screaming as he falls down the floors of the ship.

You see a flash- water was quickly filling the ship. Without further ‘encouragement’ from Sans, the rest of the men were jumping into the water.

You’re raised to Sans’ shoulder, and he lets you climb onto it. You fold, clinging onto his neck, as Sans lets out the last of his frustration, ripping what’s left of the ship into splinters, the sails falling and some screams going silent as he drags the ship under the waves.

You pant, shuddering in the cold, as you see the ship turn to nothing but frothing bubbles and driftwood. Sans puffs his chest out, as if he’d just taken down a competitor.

A speck moves in the water- and the captain surfaces, flailing onto a piece of wood. His moment of peace is quickly broken by the snarl Sans emits, shaking the air around you. As the captain looks up, a tentacle raises above him, and it sways from the base up to the tip. He thrashes his legs, trying to swim out of the way, crashing down on him like a wave, surely crushing him under the water.

He won’t be bothering you anymore.

Sans stares down, bellowing a steam of breath from his mouth. There’s a group of men on a tiny lifeboat, but Sans pays them no mind. He turns around, and they yell when a tentacle drifts near them, sending a tiny wave that rocks their boat.

The storm was merely showers now, water dripping from your hair.

You were still so cold, shivering every few seconds.

There’s an inquisitive sound in Sans’ trill. He picks his hand up close to you and lets you climb on, and you practically hug your knees to keep yourself warm. You’re grateful when he covers you with his other hand, shielding you from whats left of the rain. And his hands were starting to feel warm… like there were little flames in his palms.

His eyelights dilated. As he tries to get a better look of you, you get a clear vision of his eyes. Those seafoam orbs look so kind when they look at you.

He trills again, sounding like a mix between a dolphin and a baby whale. Timid, checking you. It’s hard to believe that your gentle giant really was the same kraken from legends that have brought many to their watery dooms.

“It’s… it’s ok Sans. I’m ok, I’m ok now. Thank you.”

He didn’t need to speak in your mind for you to understand. He purrs, as gentle as lapping waves on the shore. He smiles as sunlight penetrates the heavy clouds and the drizzle fizzles into nothing. He brings you to his face and instinctively you take a step closer to press your cheek to his.

Mmm… he’s so warm.

The sun starts to warm you and though your hair and dress were still soaked, they weren’t dripping as much anymore. Your skin started to dry. Your breaths are shaky and you smile.

You kiss him.

“Thank you, Sans…”

#kraken sans #aka writing #can u imagine. being dumb enough to steal the kraken’s wife #also theres one fanart of kraken sans angry bc wife is gone #that happens here #:]

[mochiwrites]

thinking about your secret husbands au

just imagined the hermits getting frustrated they aren’t getting together (I guess before Scar and Grian learn they’re trying to set them up)

and they’re like “if anyone’s going to say anything it’d be Scar, right? he just needs to know Grian is also pining”

so they go up to Grian, secretly voice recording or something, and ask “do you love Scar”

and Grian’s so confused like “of course I love him???”

and they go to Scar with the recording and show it to him like “see he loves you now go talk to him”

and Scar is also very confused like “…i mean i would sure hope he did”

and the hermits just get more frustrated bc they assume he interpreted it like friend love and is just being oblivious again, when really the rest of them are the oblivious ones

“Scar! Scar come here real quick!” Tango’s urgent whispers catch the man’s attention. He lifts his head up from the chest he’s currently got his head stuck in.

“Oh hi Tango!” He smiles, stepping back from said chest. The lid falls shut as he turns his attention to the other. “What can I do for you, my flaming friend?”

“Nothing much! I’ve just got a little disc here I want to show you,” Tango hums, twirling said disc around in his hand. He waves it around so Scar can see it. “I think you’re really gonna wanna hear this one.”

Scar’s eyes light up as he looks at the disc, “Well I do enjoy a good disc. Hit me!”

Tango grins at him in return before setting a jukebox down and sliding the disc in. Scar walks up to it, staring down at the box with interest.

There’s a soft skip in audio before someone begins speaking, Scar instantly recognizes it as Tango’s voice, “Hey G! You got a sec?”

“Ahhh, yup. What’s up?”

At the sound of Grian’s voice, Scar’s lips lift in a soft smile. To this day, Grian’s voice remains his favorite sound, next to his laugh. Oh, and the cute little bird noises he makes. And he can’t forget how he sounds when Scar — he’s getting off track.

“I’ve got a bit of a random question for ya. How do you feel about Scar?”

“I’d question why you’re asking me this, but knowing you and the others, I don’t think I want to know.” Grian’s laugh comes through, and Scar’s smile melts just a bit. “In answer to your question, I love him.”

At Grian’s confession, Tango rips the disc out, looking at Scar. “See! The guy loves you man! Go talk to him!”

Scar blinks, puzzled as he looks up at the other. “I mean… I sure hope he does. I just talked to him this morning.” They had a lovely breakfast together, even! Jellie accidentally knocked over her water bowl, and Grian had laughed his heart out when Scar slipped on the leaking water. “And I’m seeing him again later! I talk to him a lot?”

Tango groans, face palming.

#mochi speaks #mochi writes #secret husbands au

[bonkwrites]

Girl’s Night (Civilian Life pt. 3)

You go out for a girl’s night and Simon falls deeper in love with you. 

Warnings: possible dub-con, reader is drunk. Fem!reader. Dirty talk, riding, drunk sex.

READ PART ONE: CIVILIAN LIFE 

READER PART TWO: SIMON’S FANTASY

-*-*-

Girl’s night is every other Saturday. You treasure it like it’s actual fucking gold, especially after not having a day of in far too long. Simon watches you get ready for the first time in months, his entire attention on the precision of your hands with brushes and little sponges. You could be a sniper. 

Your skirt is short, your heels are chunky but they add three inches, and your shirt… Simon’s not sure he can call it a shirt, it covers too little. If he didn’t know how important tonight was to you he’d have torn it apart already and fucked you all night. You wear it to feel good, to seduce yourself into having a good time and drinking too much. He doesn’t have a problem with it, he assures you every time you ask if you should cover up more. You can handle yourself and Simon likes the idea of other men looking, knowing what they’re thinking, and knowing that you’re coming home to him. You won’t cheat and Simon is not stupid enough to think it. Simon kisses you, tells you he’s not waiting up, and smacks your ass while you walk away from him just to hear you cry out in surprise and then giggle as you shut the door. 

He’s still up at two in the morning when you come in through the door and shush (Shhh!) yourself while you take off your shoes. You wander into the living room, following the sound of the TV cautiously. When you spot him, however, you relax with a sigh and cross your arms over your chest.

“You said you weren’t going to wait up,” you say, slight slur to your voice, a sway in your step, “I told you not to.” 

“Just watching a show, love, not waiting up.” Simon replies. You settle down on the couch next to him, he puts his arm over your shoulder and you lay against his chest. This has become your default, laying on the couch with him like this, resting. 

“How was girl’s night?” Simon asks. 

“Great,” you smile up at him, “Alex-” Johnny’s girl- “she got us tequila shots and we were dancing. Oh, Si, you should have seen me.” 

“We’ll go dancing, love, you just say the word,” You? Pressed against him in a club in something that tiny? What man could say no to something that fucking glorious? 

“Can I have a kiss?” you ask, head tilted up. Simon scoffs out a laugh and kisses you. You’re adorable when you’re drunk, the loving type ever since you met him. It’s like you know he’s a love-deprived monster and decided your love would be the perfect cure. It is.

Simon puts his free hand on your cheek, low, his fingertips brushing against your neck. You whimper into his mouth. Kissing is a slippery slope for you, apparently, because before Simon can process anything you’re in his lap and your hands are on his cheeks. 

“Love,” Simon grunts out between kisses, not a second of your attention caught. He puts a hand on your hip to still them and the other on your throat. He doesn’t choke you, isn’t trying to kill you, but it always makes you freeze when he does it. One of your hands grips his wrist, your eyes glaze over with pure lust. 

“Simon,” you whimper, trying to grind your hips. Fuck. 

“Simon,” you whine his name this time and Simon has to take a deep breath to calm himself. You’re drunk, you shouldn’t be doing this, and Simon’s going to have to put his foot down about it. You always make his life so hard. 

“You’re drunk, love.” Simon whispers, hand releasing your throat. You come forward to kiss him again, your lips pressed to his lips, his jaw, and then his neck. 

“You don’t want to?” you pause to ask, hands relaxing and lips detaching from his skin. 

“Hell no.” he answers, “‘Course I do, sweetheart, just can’t when you’re-”

“Who gives a shit? I want you when I’m sober, I want you now…” You grind your hips down and Simon feels your lips stretch with a smirk against his skin, “I want you all the fucking time, Si.” 

Simon’s breath shakes as you litter his neck with marks from your teeth and lips. You have him pinned to the couch with your hands on his chest, your skirt is riding up as you grind against the growing bulge in his sweats. He could switch it over, have you pinned to the couch, crying out his name and begging him for more. But he likes it this way, he’s not opposed to watching his perfect girl use him to get off. What can he say? He lives to serve. 

“All the time?” Simon asks, fingers nudging under your skirt to grip your thighs. 

“Everyday, god, I want you everyday. E-Every morning when you’re walking around in your fucking pajamas and you k-kiss me good morning in the kitchen I just want you- I want you to bend me over the counter-” you’re stuttering, stumbling over your words as you grind and grind your hips. Simon wonders if you can cum just like this, grinding on his cock through his pants like a fucking teenager. 

“A-And when you put on your gear and you fucked me over the table I-I- oh god,” Simon’s hand cups your breast through your bra and you stop talking to whimper as he pinches your nipple through the fabric. Simon replays the image of you bent over the table, his hand gripping the chain of the handcuffs, you begging him to believe your innocence and he has to stop your hips from moving. 

You huff, frustrated, and push a hand between your bodies to reach into the waistband of his pants. Demanding, that’s what you’re being tonight, just taking what you want from him and whining about it the whole time. Simon’s never been more turned on. 

“That’s it,” Simon groans as you reach into his sweatpants to free him from them, “you finally gonna take what’s yours?” 

“It’s mine?” you ask, breath shuttering as you try to pull your skirt up the rest of the way. Simon helps by unzipping it on the side and throwing it to the floor. His hands knead your thighs, your side, your ass. 

“All yours, sweetheart, every fucking inch.” Simon replies. He pulls your skimpy little underwear to the side to get his fingers on you and fuck are you wet. He watches your eyes roll back when his fingers circle your clit in slow, lazy circles. He has the sudden urge to get you on his face. His cock throbs at the idea. 

“Want you inside me,” you whimper, forehead on his shoulder, heart beating so fast he can feel it where your chest is pressed to his. Simon takes himself in his hand as you lift your hips, there will be a billion more times to have you ride his face. You moan when you feel his head pressed against you, every exposed inch of your skin is on fire, and Simon uses a hand on your hip to guide you down. 

“Fuck,” Simon moans, outright moans, his head tossed to the back of the couch. Your thighs shake, your back arches, and when Simon looks at you he watches your eyes roll back. 

“Feel good, love?” his voice is low, it rolls over you like thunder, and you can’t stop the way you nod frantically and whimper his name. He pulls your hips up on his cock and then drags you back down, relishing in the way you grip his arms and slump against him. 

You always go so fucking dumb when you’re on top and Simon fucking loves it. You squirm through his slow, deep strokes, clinging onto him and shaking. You can’t stop repeating his name, chanting it against his shoulder and his neck, nails digging in. You like it slow like this, you like feeling every inch of him on every thrust, you always get so restless, so squirmy, like you’re trying to run away from the pleasure. 

“C-Can’t take it, Si, god I can’t take it,” you sob, clenched down around him, letting him manipulate your movements. 

“Know you can,” he grunts, “know you can take it, my perfect fucking girl, always take me so- so goddamn well,” 

You fall apart in his lap, shaking and crying for him, hips fucking down on him through it all. Simon spreads his legs wider, feet planted flat, and he thrusts his hips up while he pulls your hips down. You shoot upright, hands pressing to his chest, thighs trying to close around his hips. 

“S-Simon!” you sob, sensitive beyond belief, “Simon! Simon!" 

"Fucking, oh fucking god, love." Your nails dig into his chest, his hands grip you tighter and tighter, and you cry out when he pins your body to his. 

Simon's thrusts slow, he wants to savor it, has to slow it down to feel you squirm and whimper. Your hips circle, grinding down on his cock and forcing him closer to the edge. 

"Wan'," you babble, incoherent against the clammy skin of his neck, "want you to put a baby in me, Si." 

Simon is fucking ruined by that. He goes still, your hips keep moving, fucking yourself on his cock. Taking it and crying that you can’t, that you want his fucking babies. He cums inside you, filling you up and letting you keep your hips moving until he's too sensitive and he has to make you stop. You stay on top of him, hands grazing over the skin of his arms and his chest.

"That what you want?" He whispers in your ear while you pant, "you want me to put a fucking baby in you, love?" 

"Puh-" you take a deep breath, it shakes through your chest, "please." 

"Want a- want a life with you. I want a house with a yard and a dog and a little baby." 

"I can give you the dog and the baby." He lays a kiss to the side of your head, you sigh heavily, happily, probably still a little tipsy. Simon needs to lift you off of him, you’re gonna want a shower even if you’re drunk and arguing with him the whole way. 

You shower together. You’re leaning back heavily on him while he runs his soapy hands over your body. Your knees are the only things keeping you standing and Simon feels amazing about it. Your eyes are closed, you’re humming in contentment while he cleans your body for you with hands that he has used hundreds of times over to kill people, to torture people. He’s not a monster to you, not a Ghost, to you he’s just a man. Your man. 

Simon has got to marry you. He has to. Simon has got to lock you down and make you his for eternity or he’ll never forgive himself for letting you get away from him.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod #cod smut #cod fanfic

[sixosix]

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔: 𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

blurb you’re trying to flirt with your best friend; kuroo’s losing his fucking mind.

# gn!reader, fluff, slight angst(?) bc kuroo’s a dumb bitch, friends to lovers :)

your shirt’s askew, revealing the smooth skin of your neck.

kuroo stares.

he’s not sure how long you’ve been looking like that, but it sure as hell feels like it’s been forever. he feels his face burning, but nothing else is coming to mind. he’s zeroed in on the exposed slope of your neck, and he feels like he can't breathe. or maybe he's breathing too hard.

you wave a hand. “kuroo…? you with me?”

he exhales, hard. “sorry—” he forces himself to calm down; to think about anything but biting you like a crazed vampire. “sorry, sorry. just, remembered something.”

you tilt your head, and it shows the slope of your— kuroo chokes, but mentally. “about?”

about how much i’m in love with you.

what? kuroo recoils at his own thoughts.

“nothing important,” he lies through his own teeth.

your eyes seem to lose brightness for a split second, had kuroo not been paying attention. “oh, alright.” you turn away from him, fixing your shirt.

why does it feel like kuroo’s not the only one disappointed?

you’re on his lap.

okay, he seriously doesn’t know how you pair ended here. it was only supposed to be a movie night (when is it only just a movie night, tetsu-chan? a voice that suspiciously sounds like oikawa whispers in his mind) but then you two inched closer and closer to each other like a gravitational pull.

and now you’re sleeping on his chest and kuroo is just melting because you look so adorable that he wants to kiss the hell out of you. but you’re asleep, peaceful and unaware of his internal conflict—like always.

“love you, tetsu,” you murmur sleepily against his chest as kuroo stiffens.

he runs a hand through his face, exhaling deeply.

“love you, too.”

“this is bad,” kuroo says into the phone next to his ear, gripping the pillow on his lap like it’s offended him. “this is really, really bad.”

it’s the fifth day of kuroo losing his shit while you unintentionally flirt with him while in the same house.

“you’re just making it bad,” kenma says. kuroo hears the clicking of kenma’s mechanical keyboard—it sounds extremely expensive. his best friend sighs, “i don’t get why you don’t just admit it to y/n.”

kuroo bristles at the thought, scowling at an imaginary kenma right in front of him. “you want me to just— hey, baby, this sounds crazy and you might slap me after this, but i am in love with you and have been since middle school!”

he scratches the nape of his neck, suddenly embarrassed at kenma’s deadpanned silence.

“i was talking about y/n giving you awkward bo—”

“woah, woah, hey! keep it PG!” oikawa shrieks, and it’s a painful sound. kuroo honestly forgot that he’s also on the call. “but kenma-chan is right, you know? kuroo tetsurou, you’re not only going to die a virgin—but also a coward for never confessing!”

“i’d rather die both than have y/n avoid me,” kuroo murmurs, and his brain decides to be a bitch and give him a flashback on how you looked so cute with his shirt.

kenma stops clicking, muttering an interested: “oh?”

oikawa makes a noise that sounds part amazed and part bewildered. “wow, you really love y/n-chan, don’t you? i thought this was just horny-kuroo speaking, but this is past that.”

“it’s been past that for ages,” kuroo hisses. “and now i’m torn between just kissing the life out of y/n and hibernating in my room for even thinking about that.”

“nevermind, you’re just really stupid,” kenma goes back to clicking.

sugawara—again, kuroo doesn’t know how they’re here—laughs; it’s the evil one. “we all know that. how could we even expect it to be different?”

“hey, shut the fuck up!” kuroo barks as oikawa cackles, followed by a thump. kuroo assumes he fell on the floor. “just because i’m at the top of my class doesn’t mean you should be jealous.”

“king of the class yet also king of being obliviously a dumbass,” kenma says; and it’s even worse when kenma teases him because it’s so deadpanned that he sounds deadly serious.

kuroo leaves the call, throwing his arms in the air.

he wanted some bro talk. he wanted some bro advice. instead, he got some bro-punch in the bro-face because his friends are keeping an inside joke from kuroo—and they keep saying you’ll find out when the time is right!

kuroo catches a glimpse of you from outside his room where his door is pushed open: you smiling at your phone. it’s a soft smile, and it looks good on you. he wonders when you’ll give that to him.

kuroo sighs to himself, turning away.

when will the time ever be right?

“guys, i think i’m giving up,” you announce one faithful day, walking into the kitchen while kuroo’s rereading his school materials.

kuroo listens half-heartedly, wondering who you’re talking to. and then he keeps reminding himself to focus on his goddamn chemistry textbook.

“no, dumbass. i tried everything!” you yell into the phone, pouring water in a glass. but with one hand on the phone, it wobbles dangerously.

without thinking too much, kuroo rushes to your side, standing right behind you as he steadies the glass for your sake. he will get a heart attack if you break this glass and get it all over you—and he does not want to get one right now.

your warmth is a distraction, and he barely catches it when you smile and thank him.

the person on the phone continues talking as you fill the glass to the very brim, and kuroo finally allows himself to release his grip.

“careful,” he says. “that one’s heavier.”

“gotcha,” you say, grinning in amusement. “no, tooru—” what? you’re talking to oikawa? “i’m not trying to be subtle… tips? fuck that book! that was written by a man anyway, i should know what i’m doing better.”

speaking of, kuroo should probably go back to his textbook.

“yes, i’m just going to do it,” you grumble, and kuroo actually likes that nose wrinkle you do. it’s cute. he pokes it and you stick your tongue out at him. “yeah, he’s right in front of me; you get to have a front row seat.”

but you’re also holding onto his wrist so he’s kind of stuck right now.

you look up at kuroo, stating: “tetsurou, i have been trying to flirt with you for the past week. tell me now, are you not interested in me or?”

“what.”

“that’s not an answer.”

kuroo’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “you’re serious.”

“as serious as i have been flirting with you,” you answer back.

“what the fuck,” kuroo breathes, and he’s sure he’s blushing madly because you’re unable to hold in your little giggles that make him feel warmer. “what the fuck.”

“still not an answer.”

“i’m fucking in love with you,” he adds hurriedly, knocking the phone away from your grasp in lieu of holding your face. he tries to convince himself that this is real. “and i am so sorry that i am ridiculously stupid.”

“oh,” your eyes soften, hands coming on top of his, “me too. i’ve been in love with you for months now. it’s kind of driving me crazy.”

“try years.”

you huff sharp laughter, squeezing his hands—and he melts into your touch, knocking your foreheads together. “so competitive. are you gonna kill block me from a kiss now?”

“never in my life,” he mutters, and slots his lips into yours; like the way he could’ve been doing all this time.

“can you wear my shirt again? that one really got me going.”

“i’m still here!” oikawa shrieks, mortified.

haikyuu taglist [ @crystal-lilac @jaepann @bun-ina ]

#606:HQ #606:NKM #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo x reader #x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagine

[heartthrobin]

yellow light (1)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 2.0k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is emotionally constipated, angst

an: i've been dying to write a villain!reader for a while now and i actually have a lot planned for these two if y'all want to see more let me know <3 remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: Miguel could find you across worlds, across dimensions. he'd only need to look for his yellow light.

part two

evenings at HQ are quiet.

by eight, most spiders have crawled back into the arms of their MJs or their Gwens. and by nine, only Miguel’s heartbeat rings louder than the buzz of computers.

Lyla pops in with an occasional “you should go home” and he ignores her like he does every night. she doesn’t do it so much anymore.  

a light flickers against the computer, it pings softly. alert urgent enough to assume he’d received an email. Miguel’s eyes find the notification.

Anomaly detected! Earth-8901!

it wasn’t that anomalies clocked off, like the spiders did.

Miguel sighs, tight and curt. he glances over his shoulder as if there stood a row of spider-people itching to go fight. he finds only his shadow stretching far down the empty office.

Lyla glitches into form, leaning against a mug that had been growing steadily colder since he’d made it and abandoned it an hour ago. “you’d think even anomalies need sleep—”

she taps a couple times on the screen and live feed from Earth-8901 streams across the monitors. it’s a generic scene: police car lights flash, there is the steady rumble of people talking in frantic voices. they’re, unoriginally, in front of a bank.

Miguel rolls his left shoulder back, it’s fruitless in easing the tension there. “go see if there’s anyone still around. they can come help with this before they leave.”

there’s a flash on the screen and Miguel’s hand falls off his shoulder. his eyes find the screen again, they flicker frantically over it.

“wait.” he directs Lyla, hand held out.  

between the sirens, he hears it. he could pinpoint it over dimensions and in the crowd of a rock-concert if whispered. that giggle.

yellow light flashes again, a crack of lightning, and you appear on the hood of a police car. you’re keeling over laughing – Miguel doesn’t find it villainous, like he should. instead it warms a pit deep in his stomach.

“oh look,” Lyla folds her legs over each other, glancing back at him amused. “it’s your little girlfriend.”

he doesn’t grant her an answer, he’s focused on your miniaturised figure. it’s blurry, but it’s undoubtedly you.

there’s another crack and you’re gone, bullets fly through the spot you’d just occupied and the police car is a pile of smouldering ash.

“i���ll sort this out.” Miguel says. it’s strained, gruffer than most of what he says is.

 “you don’t want back up? i’m sure there’s still some Peters hanging around?” but Lyla’s grinning that wide grin she does when she knows she’s pushing her boss’ buttons.

“no.” the portal spills orange and red and pink light into the dimly lit room. “and you stay here.”

her little hand came to her face, eyes rolling when she offers a half-assed salute. “whatever you say, boss.”

the air is sticky where he steps out onto a rooftop. Miguel feels where the humidity crowds over his face and against his palms, it’s the syrupy warmth that follows where you go.  

down in the street below is the image he’d been watching off the monitor. heavily armed policemen were drawing closer to the doors of the bank where you were no doubt inside wreaking havoc.

you had no inclination for money, he knew that, but your chase for chaos? endless.

overhead, a chopper is flying low over the scene. cameras and news-women flock the barricades blocking the street. Miguel rests a hand over the railing, mask crawling up over his head. he is quietly assessing the easiest way past meddling cops when his thoughts are dissolved by a crack. it’s so loud, so close, and the brightness of the light screws his eyes shut.

“what’cha looking at?”

when his eyes open, you’re leaning over the railing. you’re grinning down on the street as if you aren't the cause for commotion.

your dress shivers where you bounce on the balls of your feet. that goddamn yellow doll dress, the villain uniform you insist on donning. it did unspeakable things to Miguel's psyche. the way it fluttered at the tops of your thighs, that your whole clavicle was exposed and just fucking begging for him to run his lips across your shoulders.

your mask is hanging loosely in your hand.

"i thought i told you to stay in your dimension."

you shrugged. your hair was held up by bows of canary ribbons and they swayed where you tilted your head petulantly at him. "c'mon, Miggy, where's the fun in that?"

he's still made no effort to move, head cocked to watch you. your figure swims in his shadow, small beneath his frame.

you were glowing like you did most of the time. a golden light that permeated the dark night air. Lyla once commented that you were a walking lightbulb.

but it's dimmed. you were losing power, wasting it by flashing up to bother him on this rooftop. Miguel knows more about your condition than he needs to.

"they happened to fix the super collider on my earth, so i thought i'd take it for a spin." you speak again.

Miguel's eyes narrow.

you cave, whole body loosening and eyes rolling. "fine. i held a couple scientists against their will and forced them to fix it, but that's hardly what's important."

your words chase each other around his brain. your smile is fracturing, he hasn't heard your little laugh once since you'd appeared beside him.

"why?"

little ribbons swinging, you ignore his question.

"take off your mask for goodness sake." your head lolls to the side, almost against your shoulder. "haven't seen you in ages."

the red and blue mask slips back.

half because Miguel found he could never find it within himself to say no to you and half because he wanted to soak in the view of your face with his own eyes and not through his grainy visor.

he finds it was worth it because you smile again, that smile that could call him home from dimensions away.

"pretty as ever, O' Hara."

"why did you fix the super collider?"

you recoil, like he's lashed at you. your eyes find the street again and you shrug but don't answer him.

Miguel lets the silence permeate. even the ruckus in the street quietens, but he thinks that maybe all sounds do when you're around.

you shuffle your feet until your shoulder finds his side where his arms hang purposelessly. when your skin finds his, there's an electrical snap and he flinches just slightly. you don't mention it.

"don't the lights look pretty?" the commotion still holds your gaze.

trying desperately not to cave into your touch, not to pull your glowing face into his palms, Miguel sucks in a breath of composure. "to rob a bank, is that why? couldn't rob a bank on your own earth?"

"you wouldn't come if i robbed a bank back home."

the sentence hangs. your head finds his side.

"what?" it's barely a whisper, barely a sound, but you catch it.

"i mean," you push yourself off him, voice relighting with that theatrical quality that hid the tremble beneath your words. "i got the hint, you don't like me - you made that clear - but i just wanted to see ya' one last time. you know?"

Miguel hated the voice you put on. it was ungenuine and you used it on cops and other spidermen. not him.

"so i thought i'd do a quick pop in, see if you were around--"

"when did i ever make that clear that i didn't like you?"

gravel of torn brick crunched beneath your foot where you turned to face him again. Miguel found that your eyes were wet, the same eyes that blinked at him when he closed his own.

"i asked you to come." your voice wobbled and it was like a scalding poker meandering between his organs. "i asked you to come. to visit me."

of course he remembers when. it was the last time you'd been dragged from an earth that wasn't yours, when you'd gone for a joy-ride between dimensions really just for the fun of it.

Jessica was clipping some handcuffs around your wrist, the kind that Miguel invented to subdue powers. he remembers how your light flickered all the way out, leaving only the shine that could never rub off your eyes.

despite the metal clipping your wrists, you'd grinned up at Miguel.

"you gonna come visit me, Miggy?" Jessica huffed, tugging you in the direction of the portal.

Miguel didn't like how rough Jessica was being, despised the thought of dark bruises around your wrists, but didn't say anything on it.

he settled with: "it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

your eyes twinkled. "just once?"

he almost smiled.

"i'll think about it."

you weren't satisfied. "promise?"

he'd nodded. he thought it'd make you go easier. "i promise i'll think about it."

he realised now that it had only made it easier to watch you go.

your shine flickers like a lamp in a haunted house. "i waited. you never came."

it wasn't true.

"yn." he calls out gently across the space dividing your body from his. he takes a cautious step.

it wasn't true that he "never came". Miguel visits your dimension more than his own apartment.

in the moments where Lyla ushers him home, her static voice echoing over his shoulder: "you need sleep", he'd slip out quietly.

sometimes it's morning already, he watches you trip over your feet out your apartment building. you're consistently late to your first class.

other times it's Friday night and you're dolled up, primped in a short skirt and dirty sneakers. you're with other girls, you all stumble together to and from the bar down the street.

Miguel's never had the balls to announce his presence. he quietly enjoys you in the moments you're just ... yn. physics major and perpetual night owl. enjoys watching you at three am when you tinker at your desk with copper cables and wires and entertain yourself with a loose lightbulb where you flicker it on and off and on and off with just a brush of your finger over the glass.

when you've made it home - drunk, but safe - or grown bored of your trinkets and crawled into bed with slow blinks, only then does he conjure the portal and return to his own lonely apartment.

"that's the answer to your question." you're not facing him again. "i just wanted to see you one more time."

this time he tucks his cowardice in his pocket and Miguel moves to you, out from the shadows into the warmth of your light. his chest presses to your back, head finding the side of yours.

you nuzzle his temple with your own, melt against his frame like you were built to be slotted against his chest.

"lo siento, mi amor." words scramble in his mouth. he chokes on all the sentiments he could share. mostly i love you, please ask me again to come with you.

his hand finds your hip, he squeezes the fatty tissue there. you sigh.

your palm finds his cheek, it sparks but Miguel is ready for it this time and doesn't flinch. you nudge his face so it hovers over yours.

"i thought you might say that."

the soft pad of your finger runs over the edge of his jaw. you twist so you're facing him, jailed beneath his wide shoulders and Miguel realises that your lashes are even longer up close.

he nudges his nose against yours. "it's the truth."

your eyes flutter shut, you shake your head.

warm lips press up into the apple of his cheek. his stomach curls dangerously at the wet touch.

"maybe one day you'll prove it then, Miggy." you whisper against his skin.

he leans further down, desperate and itching to catch your lips against his this time, but your palm finds his chest first.

electricity chases down his veins like blood on fire.

Miguel's body is launched with the volts of a bolt of lightning and barely feels where his shoulders crumble through brick and plaster of the building over. he wrestles with unconsciousness and loses, body twitching and spasming from the surge of your power when the darkness envelopes him.

when he comes to, the sun is peaking over the nearest building and you are long gone.

-

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

taglist:

@lovely-vamp-princess @yeetmetothesky @mdsbabygirl @wyldeflovver @literally-a-god @the-great-ladyg @yerimsho @kerbulkdystchan @sandwich-picklebelly18 @ghostingtheinternet @readinghoes @stqrlightrs @vampiremiguel950 @snowdrop987 @vikingqueen28 @dakumoon-00000 @ilovewoc @sparklytoaster @animequeen4 @neytirisgfreal @shinononstan @queerponcho @edgaluten @mxn14 @jollycandybanana @jxnnav @mik-bxrnes @hotbisexualmess @judeeduartte @omg-kitzia-blr @over-the-moon-for-you @daedaep69 @snailss @mysteriouserrorrr @dazeydelrey @16bruises @brownskin-bunny @littlelfreak @simeon-lovergirl @sticksheaad @miguelslefteyebrow @crazy-ravioli @sweethxneytea @starsluver @obi-mom-kenobi @that-freaky-mysterious-one @cheermoon @lipstickmarks @vaporwave8chan @chiyoyooo @agentr13 @stargazingcarol @keeninternetchaos

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara #fic rec #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv fanfiction

[littledollll]

Digging your fics so much! Keep up the good work! xxx

Can I request a really smutty Larissa fic with sub Larissa and dom female reader (masculine) and Larissa and r are in a relationship and one day they’re out for a public event and Larissa really struggling because she needs reader to dominate her so much they end up in a public bathroom just getting absolutely heated with all the kinks (begging, dry humping, choking, overstimulation all the good stuff ya know ;)feel free to add more yourself) and right as Larissa is about to cum the second time, someone (you can decide who) walks in on them seeing absolutely everything leaving Larissa totally embarrassed and reader is just laughing and reassuring her it’s okay and sweet aftercare for our queen🥵 xx

Caught

Larissa Weems x reader

A/n: tryna catch up with requests rn help.

Warnings: begging, overstimulation, dry humping, choking?, humiliation kinda, strap on (L receiving)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Larissa was needy. Unbelievably so. She was usually so kept together but right now it was like she was a different person.

Okay, maybe letting her know you were packing wasn’t the best idea. Or the constant teasing. But it was sure as hell fun to have her squirming in her seat every time your hand shifted slightly higher on her thigh, how she leaned in whispering those precious fantasies of what she we wanted you to do to her, begging for you to touch her, telling you how much she needed you.

Now here you were, with Larissa sat on the bathroom counter, needy hips repeatedly bucking against the strap hidden under your suit pants. “Needy aren’t you? can’t even wait for me to fuck you properly. Get yourself off like this, I want to see how badly you really want me.”

Once Larissa caught on to the fact you weren’t going to be of any assistance, her hands wrapped around your waist holding you flush again her, allowing the perfect amount of time pressure against her aching clit.

She allowed pleasure to take over her body as she fell forward, forehead resting on your shoulder, “I need you sir, I need you to make me cum.” her airy, quiet voice and whines were enough to convince you.

Her breathing turned into panting and gasps when your hands smoothed up her thighs to her ass and you guided her hips against yours. “oh god- please sir.”

You giving her a squeeze and forcing her forward, her hips stuttered against you with whiny moans. “Are you gonna cum just from humping my strap? Go on then baby, don’t get shy on me now.”

Her thighs squeezed around you as she fell over the edge, holding you still against her while she rode out her high with a rather loud moan of your name. You brought a hand up to her lips which she immediately took into her mouth, tongue swirling around and between them.

“That’s it, my good girl. You have to be quiet okay? You don’t want to be caught do you?” A whimpered fell from her lips at the thought, making you chuckle and lean into her ear.

“Greedy thing. Was that not enough? Ruined my clothes too, how do you expect us to go back out there now, pretty?” You didn’t actually care, but seeing the blush spread across her face was definitely worth causing a scene for. “Please, sir.”

“I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, and you’re going to sit here and take it. I don’t want to hear a sound or Im making you scream. And everyone will know, that the oh so professional and elegant principal Weems likes getting fucked like a slut in public.”

She nodded against you neck, frantic hands searching to undo your belt, pulling down your pants and underwear.

You didn’t say a word, allowing her to do all the work for you until you felt her shift closer to the edge of the bathroom counter.

She kept her mouth shut as you rubbed circles on her puffy clit with your strap, prepping it nice and wet before you pushed into her cunt, just an inch before pulling out, and repeating.

When Larissa had gotten use to your teasing, you plunge into her aching cunt. She moaned out, both of her hands gripping your bicep with enough force to bruise. You stayed nestled deep inside of her, long enough to get her whining and attempting to fuck herself on your strap.

“What did I tell you?” Snapping your hips against her she cried out, and you slapped your hand over her mouth. “Not a sound.”

She looked ethereal once you started pounding into her. A light cover of sweat on her forehead, chest heaving, eyes unfocused. Moaning when your hand trailed down to her neck and you tightened your grip just right. Her thighs trembled as you fucked her with abandon.

“Sir-“ just as she was about to speak the door cracked open, it wasn’t wide so whoever opened was clearly aware of what was going on, and then a familiar voice, one of your friends.

They could barely talk through their laugh. “Absolutely hate to walk in on this but you’re not being very discreet and somebody’s looking for Larissa so you might wanna wrap this up.”

You snapped your hips, making Larissa stifle a moan and tighten her grip on you. “Somebody needs to learn how to keep quiet, you know. We’ll be out in a second keep them distracted for me, will you? Oh and lock the door.”

Thankfully you had saved Larissa the shame of being completely seen since your body was covering hers. You talked in a calm manner, like you weren’t just caught fucking in the bathroom during a work event, Larissa wished the ground would open and swallow her whole.

Your friend huffed out a laugh and gave you a nod. “Right, don’t have too much fun, it’s been like an hour, your lady here is needed outside.” After that they locked and closed the door.

Larissa only whimpered, arms wrapping around you as she hid into your neck. “It’s okay beautiful, you know they won’t say anything. Let’s get you presentable so we can leave as soon as possible, how about that?”

Larissa whined and you kissed her cheek as you pulled out and adjusted the strap, getting yourself re-dressed much to Larissa’s dismay, she was glad to see that your clothes were indeed not ruined though. “I don’t want to go back out there.”

You chuckled, cleaning up her lipstick and fixing her dress, “I know, but there’s only one way out of here and it’s through that door and to the crowd. You can be a good girl for me just until we can leave right? I’ll reward you once we’re home for being so good.”

She gave you a nod, blush creeping up on her when you hugged her from behind, pushing yourself against her. “Come on then, principal Weems, they request your presence.”

Larissa rolled her eyes, pushing past you and out the door, carrying herself with her usual power and assertiveness. God you can’t wait to break her again later tonight.

#larissa weems smut #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems nevermore #larissa weems wednesday #larissa weems x reader #principal weems smut #principal weems x reader

[blue-jisungs]

RADIO SILENCE ,, chap 13 — "ah shit here we go again"

synopsis. hwang y/n and park sunghoon do not like each other. end of story. god knows why (well actually, niki is the only one who knows why). but when they’re put as co-hosts on a radio show, they’re bound to bond.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎙️ ꒱ main masterlist

you grinned upon seeing ningning and waved at her, despite sunghoon talking to winter. your friend just winked in return, so you blew her a kiss.

sunghoon cleared his throat loudly and looked at you.

"oh right, sorry. i’m just excited to see my friend" you said, drumming your fingers on the table "there is a question i need to ask though"

sunghoon frowned upon noticing you’re going off script.

"are you insane? this comeback literally devoured, you all look gorgeous, the music is amazing… dare i say, no one does it like aespa" you hummed, leaning back on your chair. the girls laughed and your co-host just shook his head in disbelief.

"yes, i do agree. also, today… is a very special audition" sunghoon said with a slight pout, his knee touching yours underneath the table "it’s y/n’s and mine last audition…"

"oh nooo…" giselle mumbled and you pretended to wipe a fake tear

"because we both have schedules. but our ateez sunbaenims will be back! so, i hope you enjoyed our company for the last time" he said and looked into the camera.

"before you leave though, can you make an official ending?" ningning asked with sparks in her eyes

"we don’t… have one…" you chuckled and she made a heart with karina. the leader furrowed her brows and completed the heart

"do this!" she smiled sneakily and you already knew what she was planning — setting you two up so the viewers would swoon over you. letting out a deep, dramatic sigh you leaned forward sunghoon.

"we were y/n…" you started, your head resting on his.

"hoon!" sunghoon finished, competing your heart.

the girls clapped their hands, cooing.

"and now… let’s bring the dramaaaa" you whispered into the mic for the last time. the red sign 'on live' turned grey, the ears of your listeners hearing now aespa’s newest song.

"y/n, you’re filming the challenge with me!" ningning grinned and winter tapped her shoulder. her eyes widened and she nodded "let’s meet outside"

you exchanged your farewells and the girls left, causing you to look at sunghoon confused.

suddenly the door opened and producer choi walked in with some other staff. he had a cake.

"oh what the…" you gasped and sunghoon smacked your arm just in time. the man just laughed, coming up to you.

"y/n, sunghoon. thank you for being our hosts. you really nailed your job and we couldn’t be more thankful… your energy really kept us all awake" producer choi said and you stood up, bowing. sunghoon did the same "it sounds weird but you were the best replacement ever. if you’re willing to do this again, we’ll let you know"

"of course! it was such a fun experience, right sunghoon?" you smiled at him and he nodded "it was our pleasure. please say hi to hongjoong and yunho from us"

"oh we will. thank you again" producer choi bowed and handed you the cake. then, he gave flowers to sunghoon.

"thank you for having us" sunghoon chimed in.

you left the recording room, tears glimmering in your eyes. sunghoon’s eyes widened, concern in his face.

"i’m kinda sad… the show really changed our life, huh?" you smiled and put the cake in a safe place. sunghoon did the same and then hugged you tightly, caressing your back in a reassuring motion. you were taken aback by his sudden gesture, especially in public.

"i’ll be forever grateful we were in this show" he mumbled, leaning away. his hands moved to your arms "do you want to grab a coffee after this?"

"sure. i also need to tell you something–" you started.

"yah, y/nnie come here! the challenge won’t film itself! we also need to do radio silence and… oh" ningning’s voice echoed through the corridor. sunghoon jumped off you, startled and started staring at the plain walls. your friend giggled and walked up to you, then she looked at hoon "sunghoon, don’t worry. i won’t punch you… yet. be good for her and you can sleep peacefully at night"

"what?" he stuttered, blood rushing to his cheeks. ningning smiled innocently and grabbed your hand, dragging you to film the challenge. leaving frozen sunghoon behind.

sunghoon smiled shyly, watching you mesmerized with gaeul laying on your lap.

"so?" he asked, fidgeting with his fingers. you hummed, caressing the dog’s soft fur. a gentle smile danced on your lips.

"i’ve been thinking…" you start, ready to hear 'no shit sherlock' or something like that. but no, sunghoon remained quiet "i agree"

"to what?" he frowned, clearly confused.

"we can try again" you hummed. gaeul suddenly jumped off your lap, walking happily to drink some water.

"wh… are… are you for real?" he blinked, mouth falling agape

"for real, brother. the realest, no cap–" you started and sunghoon jolted forward, putting a hand over your lips.

"don’t call me brother after saying you wanna date, please" sunghoon snickered and whined when you licked his hand "should’ve predicted that–"

"shut up. let’s try again, a fresh start. i thought about this. we weren’t able to contact, i couldn’t hear your side of the story. i was mad at you, yes. but also i didn’t completely fall out with you… you were in my mind all time time and… i really miss you. i’m ready to forgive you, hoon. but no dramas, park. and if there are any, you stand with me and i stand with you" you threatened him, swinging your pointing finger.

"standing next to you, hah…" he giggled and started humming jungkook’s solo song. you just rolled your eyes and wanted to turn your head around when suddenly he cupped your face and captured your lips in a kiss.

the kiss was refreshing and sweet, like a caramel frappe on a hot summer day. sunghoon poured all of his emotions into the first kiss until reunion – love, longing, care. and being able to kiss him again made you feel at ease.

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#RADIO SILENCE — ( smau ) #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon au #sunghoon fluff #enha sunghoon #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #park sunghoon #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon angst #sunghoon series #sunghoon enhypen #enha smau #enha series #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha soft hours #enhypen smau #enhypen series

[slightlyunconventional]

long overdue second dbhwks fic (2.8k)

SLAVED AWAY at this for days (i didnt. i could have done it in one but i procrastinated so much it’s unbelievable. but heres some food) quite happy w how it came out too if i do say so myself,, hope u enjoy!! 🫶

-

“Sorry I’m late.” Dabi. He’s picked the damn lock again. 

“Oh my god, do you seriously not know how to knock?” Hawks calls back, practically skipping into the living room. 

“Don’t wanna stand around outside your door like a creep, thanks,” deadpans the villain. Hawks rolls his eyes.

“You look like more of a creep picking the lock, but sure. Come here.”

He takes Dabi by the hand and leads him toward the couch. His fingers are warm, like usual. God, has Hawks missed that. Between hero work, villainy, and conflicting schedules they’d barely had time to see each other and, man, was it miserable. It takes everything in him not to bowl Dabi over with an absolutely suffocating embrace - it’d probably kill the man. 

Dabi raises his eyebrows. “You cleaned?” 

Hawks had expected Dabi to notice, but not point it out, so he’s a little caught off guard by the halfway-question. “Oh, yeah,” he says, a fraction sheepishly, “Is it too much?”

“Mm, no, looks good,” Dabi smirks, “Makes a nice change from all the crap you’ve usually got lying around.” Hawks hits him playfully and he laughs, clear and smooth, not at all like the peals brimming with malice he’d usually hear from Dabi.

“Uuugh, I hate you, leave me alone,” he complains. When Dabi’s eyebrows raise again, Hawks pulls a face and adds, “I’m a busy man! I don’t have time to clean!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m flattered.”

He sits Dabi down on the couch, maybe a little too eagerly, and comes down to straddle the taller man’s lap. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, before pressing his lips to Dabi’s with an urgency that only comes from being deprived of seeing one’s lover for far too long. Dabi loosens underneath Hawks and they quickly fall into a long practised pattern, all pretences dropped for this moment of touch-starved tenderness. Nothing exists outside of this room, everything is so warm, and Hawks melts even more when he feels Dabi smile against his lips.

“Seems like someone missed me,” murmurs the villain, voice sleek and low. The response is simply a hand laced through the dyed-black hair at the back of Dabi’s head, taking hold of him and pulling him closer with nothing short of absolute need. In turn, Dabi’s hands find the small of Hawks’ back, and heat begins to pool in his stomach as they slowly threaten to sneak closer to the bases of his wings. And his lips are warm, so warm, and he always seems to know exactly what to do with them to make Hawks collapse like putty in his hands. For a crazed villain who incinerates shit for fun, Dabi’s a fucking good kisser. 

…And a tease, apparently! Hawks knows that Dabi knows how badly he wants this, and how long he’s been waiting - yet he still seems to be taking his sweet time. He can feel the villain absently tracing circles into his back, with the same pace as his mouth is working against Hawks’. The little shit. He knows exactly what he’s doing; well, two can play at that game. Hawks takes it as a challenge, takes Dabi’s scarred face between his hands, and takes control. He presses closer, kissing the man with some previously unseen vigour, practically forcing him to match the increased pace. A little wave of triumph passes through Hawks as he hears Dabi’s breath catch in the back of his throat, nearly silent, but they’re close enough that nothing can really go unheard. Feeling like he’s succeeded, Hawks goes to indulge further, perhaps elicit some more reactions like that, when he feels Dabi’s hand leave his back. Before he can register it properly, the hand is upon his chest, pushing with some insistence. Hawks pulls away, panicked.

“Oh, shit, fuck, sorry, was that too much?”

The arm Dabi has outstretched towards Hawks’ chest slackens slightly, as do his facial features. He doesn’t reply, but rather his lips part and his eyes glaze over, forming an expression so laced with vulnerability that Hawks is almost taken aback - though, he can’t dwell on the display for long, as he’s quickly instead watching Dabi bring his other hand, curled tightly into a fist, up to his own face and press it most firmly to the underside of his nose. His chest rises once with an inhale not unlike before, only this time a little louder and deeper, and he ducks forward slightly with two slightly-awkwardly stifled sneezes.

“hhahh-! ..hh’nGXT! kxNTsh! Ugh, fuck.”

“Oh!” Hawks says, a little surprised, “Bless you.” A part of him wants to chide the villain for holding it in like that, but he refrains, knowing full well he himself would stifle exactly the same.

Dabi hums in lieu of a thanks, and Hawks returns his hand to his boyfriend’s face and leans back in.

“Can I go back to kissing you now?” he murmurs.

Dabi rolls his eyes but drapes his arms lazily over Hawks’ shoulders, an invitation, yes, you can go back to kissing me now. Their lips interlock once again, picking up where they left off, with Hawks feeling absolutely on top of the world from the fact that he’s doing the work here, he’s the one kissing Dabi, not the other way around. He’s never been opposed to Dabi taking control, in fact he loves being ravaged by the man, but sue him, sometimes it feels good to be the one doing the ravaging. However, his elation at this seems to be poorly concealed, or perhaps Dabi just wants to knock him down a peg, because Hawks feels teeth closing on his bottom lip. Not so hard that it hurts, but just enough to tease an audible gasp from him as he tenses up on Dabi’s lap. He’s fairly certain he’s never needed someone all over him so badly until this point. Clearly it shows, too, since Dabi insists on being such a menace and playing the long game with him. Well, Hawks decides that’s not going to fly; he presses in closer, almost entirely closing the gap between them and slides his other hand behind Dabi’s head, not-so-subtly tugging him closer and kissing him harder, once more regaining the upper hand. He takes to gently thumbing back and forth against the base of Dabi’s neck, to which the man lets out, involuntarily, a little noise of satisfaction, finally accepting submission. Hawks is almost tempted to bite Dabi back, but maybe that’d be pushing his luck. Besides, this side of Dabi - soft, pliant, accepting - is one he rarely sees, and he’s kind of into it. It’s a good look on the villain. 

Before long, however, their rhythm is broken once again. One of the arms laying around Hawks’ neck begins to move, and the hand meets his shoulder. Hawks has a sneaking feeling he knows what’s coming (for the second time), as Dabi’s hand pushes against his shoulder - slowly, though, as if he’s really trying to prolong the inevitable. It really doesn’t seem like he wants to pull away, so Hawks does it for him, gently separates their faces, strangely endeared by Dabi’s reluctance - and it seems he did so at exactly the right moment. Being so close to him, Hawks can easily see the way his face immediately crumples, eyes flickering shut and lips parting with an inhale that sounded as though it had been waiting to be drawn for… a while. In a split second, he’s tugging the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand with some urgency, and Hawks catches the flare of his nostrils right before he pinches his nose, clamping the thick black fabric over the bottom half of his face. There’s hardly six inches between the two of them, so Dabi twists awkwardly to the side with a set of cruelly stifled sneezes.

“hh’GKTtch! ‘KXXSHh! Ugh, god– h-hahH’KGXt’sh!”

They sound harsher this time around, harder to stifle, probably.

“Bless,” says Hawks, “You okay?”

“Mm… yeah, just something really… stings,” Dabi replies. He’s knuckling the side of his nose with some force.

“You’re, uh, not getting sick are you?” Hawks asks, unable to conceal the tinge of nervousness that seeps into his tone. As much as he loves the man, he’s got some long days on patrol coming up soon, and a cold from Dabi would severely compromise him.

Dabi raises an eyebrow. “I’m not that much of an asshole, Kei.”

“Right-! Yeah, no, of course not. Sorry, I didn’t really think there.” Hawks grimaces internally at himself, and Dabi shakes his head.

“Ugh, Jesus, hold on–” He turns away again, breath wavering, “hehh’nGXKt!” A shaky exhale escapes from him as he releases his nose.

“So, what’s got you all worked up, then?” asks Hawks, teasing.

Dabi half-sighs, half-groans, and replies, “Don’t know, but I wish it would fucking stop.” As if for emphasis, the sentence is punctuated with an irritated-sounding sniffle.

“Well, it probably would if you stopped stifling like that,” Hawks says pointedly. That earns him a hazy blue-eyed glare… that doesn’t last long, since Dabi’s squinting again, and his mouth curls up into the beginnings of something akin to a snarl. Hawks smirks as he ducks into the crook of his sweater-clad elbow to muffle yet another sneeze.

“hehH’DSHHh’uh! What the fuck?”

At least he didn’t stifle it.

Hawks hums. “Bless you.” He sends a feather to retrieve a box of tissues, then decides the villain probably also needs some space, so he manoeuvres himself gracelessly off Dabi’s lap to sit beside him on the couch. 

“Very elegant,” Dabi remarks.

“Ugh, shut up,” he replies, elbowing Dabi in the ribs. The laugh this elicits almost straight away rises into a staggered gasp, that itself turns into a pair of hastily covered sneezes.

“hhahH’KXXTshuh! hh’huuhh’DZSHHhue!”

“Jeez, bless you.”

Dabi sniffles thickly. “Yeah.”

Hawks’ feather zips back into the room and drops a box of tissues into Dabi’s lap - the thicker, softer ones that the hero always insists on buying despite them being double the price of regular ones. 

“Sounds like they’re getting stronger,” Hawks observes, a note of concern in his tone, but then adds, more teasingly, “Not allergic to me, are you?”

Dabi scoffs and tugs a couple of tissues from the box. “I wish,” he says, scrubbing at his nose. “Then I’d actually have an excuse to avoid your annoying ass.”

“Wow, okay, that was so uncalled for. Just say you hate me at that point.”

It’s Dabi’s turn to elbow Hawks back. He probably deserves it. 

 “Ow, bitch,” he says in mock offence. 

“You’re the bitch,” comes the reply, from behind a handful of tissues (which are then promptly screwed up and tossed, flying in a neat arc, straight into the trash on the other side of the room). 

“Whatever, bitch. Are you done sneezing yet? This couch isn’t as comfy as your thighs-”

“Ugh, shut up, you are so weird,” Dabi interjects in fond disgust. 

“Oh my god, what if you’re allergic to my apartment being clean? Then I never have to clean ever again, hah!”

Dabi gives him a look. “You say that as a joke, but honestly, you migh-might be right…hh.. hehH’KXNTtsh’uh!”

Dabi’s expression falls midway through his sentence, brows drawing together and eyes narrowing as he gives into another sneeze, hastily half-stifled against the back of his hand.

“Seriously,” Hawks deadpans, eyebrows raised. That’s new, he thinks.

“Well, unless you’ve suddenly acquired a pet cat - which I doubt - then yeah, seriously,” says the villain flatly, though with a note of congestion starting to creep into his voice. “Last I checked, your place didn’t reek of fuckin’ –all of spring and then some.” 

Hawks suddenly remembers the air freshener he’d used–the only one he had, some floral one found right at the back of a cupboard, unused for entirely too long. He hadn’t had a clue what clean apartments were supposed to smell of, so he’d sort of just… went ham with it. Definitely a mistake.

“Don’t slander my choice in scents,” he teases, “Are you sure it’s… that?”

“Nothing else changed ‘round here, has it?” Dabi pauses to give his nose a brief rub. “I’m here practically every week and I’ve been fine, so, you tell me.”

Hawks will never not poke the bear when he’s got the opportunity, so he says, “So this does mean I never have to clean the place ever again, right?”

Dabi’s mouth falls open as he feigns offence. He says, dramatically, “Wow. That’s all you have to say? When I could literally die right now in front of you? I’m.. hah- I’m-”

Hawks snickers. “Bless you,” he sing-songs prematurely, utterly pleased with himself. It’s almost cute, the attempted glare Dabi gives him through his glazed over expression. Nobody can look menacing in the slightest when they’re trying not to sneeze (and that’s a fact!).

“Sh-shut uhhhp..” replies Dabi, his voice quavering. He lifts a hand slowly, bringing it to hover weakly before his face. His breathing is unsteady and his eyes half-lidded, and the crease between his dark brows deepens.

“Okay, point proven, idiot,” Hawks says with a laugh, “Just sneeze, this is torture even for me.”

The hazy glare returns, and Hawks clocks it. 

“Oh!” he laughs, giving Dabi a slightly bewildered smile. “Oh my god, I jinxed it. You deserve that ‘cause you’re mean to me.”

“I hahh-hate you-” Dabi responds breathily. He rubs at the side of his nose with two knuckles, pressing decently harder than is probably necessary. The bridge crinkles in irritation when the rubbing clearly has no effect. “Jesus, it won’t go away.”

“Mm, what a shame.”

There goes a third bleary glare from the villain. “I’d like to remind you wh-whose fault thhihhs.. was in the first place,” he says. Any malice intended to be behind his utterance is immediately negated by his breath catching and wavering through the words. Though, at a point, Hawks begins to feel a little… voyeuristic just watching Dabi struggle. Sure, he’s his boyfriend and all, and yeah, he’s definitely seen worse, but it’s easy to tell Dabi’s getting a little self-conscious about this… spectacle. He’s never been a fan of having things out of his control, especially not displays of vulnerability like this, and Hawks knows this, so why prolong it?

“Well, I guess there’s only one thing for it,” he says, taking matters into his own hands. 

“Fuck off- what–” Dabi gets out, as Hawks takes his face between his hands and begins to press kisses softly down the bridge of his nose. Hawks doesn’t let him twist away from it, trying not to laugh to himself about how dumb this probably looks. At least one of them is having fun. He considers pulling away with a “Gonna sneeze yet?”, but refrains - he’d probably end up on fire. He does, however, pause for a moment when he reaches Dabi’s trio of silver nose studs, hovering. There’ve been feathery, wavering breaths coming from his boyfriend consistently but, nothing has come to fruition, so Hawks decides–those piercings have always been sensitive, a fact he’d discovered about Dabi rather early on (and maybe, possibly sometimes used to be a menace). He plants a final, delicate kiss right upon where the three studs lie, and finally lets Dabi pull away.

“Oh, oh, fuck– s-screw you–hh’ehH’IIDTSSHh’uh! ‘kXXTS’SHhue! …Christ, you’re such an ass.” The pair of sneezes that result are harsh to say the very least. And even after all that, he still tries stifling the second– unsurprising, but at that point is it even worth it?

 “Sorry! I had to!” Hawks says, really trying to look like he isn’t laughing. It doesn’t work.

“You absolutely did not have to,” corrects Dabi. 

“Okaaay, okay, sorry. It was funny though.”

“Yeah, for you, maybe,” Dabi mutters, shaking his head, “Oh, fuck’s sake, hold on–”

“I’ll wait till you’re done to say bless you, this time,” says Hawks with a fond snicker. 

“Good plah-an–! hhuh’hHDSHH’SHuh! …Ugh, fuck.”

“Bless,” Hawks replies. He averts his eyes, a little sheepishly. Dabi pulls a face.

He asks, “What the fuck’s with the guilty face?” to which Hawks throws his head back with a groan and slides his hands across his face.

“I just wanted to do something nice,” he says, “You know, clean the place up a bit. Since it’s always kind of a massive mess.”

“Jesus, Kei, I don’t care about that,” says Dabi, breathing a laugh. “It’s you I’m here for, not your fuckin’ apartment. I can kiss you whether or not there’s crap on every surface.”

Hawks isn’t used to Dabi outright saying nice things, so his cheeks flush slightly hearing this. He’s unsure what to say. Thankfully, Dabi speaks again.

“Okay. Where didn’t you spray that shit?”

Hawks scoffs. “I sort of went crazy with it, uh… my bedroom? If that works?”

“Very forward,” Dabi replies, raising his eyebrows. “Almost like you wanted me in there.”

Hawks jabs him in the ribs but still smirks. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

#this is also pretty dialogue heavy cause i like doing dialogue but sometimes i do too much. er #its fine though right #also sorry h/awks nation im feeding you next i promise!! #ive just been wanting to get this fic done for ages and i wanted to focus on it yk #but i have a decent sized h/awks wip atm and also a couple other ideas that i really wanna write for him so!!! #fear not #anyway tag time boooooring #snz #snzblr #snz kink #snzario #snz blog #sneeze kink #snzfic #sneezefic #m/ha #d/abihawks #d/abi #OMG ALSO. SORRY IF ITS CRINGE #like the kissing part. its so embarrassing but i just dont Know how to write stuff like that. but i stepped out of my comfort zone for this #so sorry if its crap #in that department