#i respect gender neutral bathrooms
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THAT! RUINS! MY GIMMICK! AAAAAAAAA
there are no doors.
#i respect gender neutral bathrooms#but this blog is built on the assumption that we pretend all doors#not just bathroom doors#doors in general#all doors must be either for men or women
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Memories (Shadow x Reader)
Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader (gender neutral) → Can be read as platonic or romantic Word Count: 3.4k T/W: loss, mentions of death (previous to story) Summary: It's New Year's Eve and life has been quite peaceful for the last few months following Dr. Eggman's defeat (again). You work up the courage to invite Shadow over, but he seems to be a bit distracted...
SQUEEE- the marker squealed as another day was crossed off the paper calendar hung on the wall in the hallway. The end of the year had come much sooner than Shadow expected. It felt as though most of his days blurred together, the mundane routine turning his concept of time on its head. At one point in his life, he had longed for the same sense of normalcy that Rouge had mentioned long ago. But this? This was torturous. He replaced the cap of the pen and hung it back up with the calendar before moving into the kitchen of his apartment with a great deal of reluctance. He had yet to go grocery shopping, making his usual routine of finding breakfast somewhat more adventurous than he had the energy for this morning.
Rouge had urged for him to rent the apartment and get his current job following their efforts to put a stop to Robotnik’s world ending plans. “I think you are long overdue for a taste of normal life Shadow,” Rouge had cooed at him.
He scoffed at the memory, taking in the view of his living space as he exited the kitchen with a sad bagel topped with cream cheese (making a mental note to stop by the corner store to grab something to fill him up a bit). His apartment wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t anything grand either. His living room could fit a single, plush couch across from a TV, record player, and his plant. The walls were lined with records that were regularly rotated out every week. He had direct access to his small breakfast nook and kitchen due to the open layout, which he enjoyed. It allowed for him to sit and enjoy his music as he ate or cooked. The hallway led to his room, office, and bathroom, all neat and tidy in their own respective manners. It was comfortable for him, mostly due to never expecting any real company over.
The size of it also meant that rent was cheap, which was good as all of his paycheck from the cafe only had to go towards every day living expenses (at the behest of a certain bat, once again, advising him to save his payout from their more intensive work). Shadow couldn’t deny the merit of her words; the higher paying work had slowed down significantly. Preventing world domination for the upteenth time seemed to discourage others from another attempt too soon.
Shadow finished his breakfast and headed toward the front door, slipping on his shoes before starting his commute to work which was only a short walk from his place. He let out a long sigh as he locked the front door behind him, nearly running into you as he turned toward the stairwell.
��Oh! Uh- Sorry, Shadow. I didn’t see you there,” you stuttered, embarrassment dripping from each word. You had been neighbors for a few months now, excited and yet intimidated by the proximity you had with him. It was simply chance that you two had even met in the first place, what with Infinite sparing you and the events that followed; you had somehow become an integral part of Sonic and his cohorts’ plan to bring Dr. Eggman to a halt. But the fact that Shadow not only worked with you at the local cafe but had also moved in next door to you so soon after felt too good to be true.
“All good. See you at work,” his voice somewhat hushed and low before he continued on his way. Burying his hands in his pockets, his steps covered an impressive distance in only a few minutes, Shadow’s mind wandering. He had also taken note of you - your impressive feats to aid them in their world saving efforts all the way down to your also somewhat mundane ritualistic activities. You both worked behind the counter at the cafe; him focusing more on brewing orders while you handled customers. He was always curious how you managed it with a smile on your face most days; the idea of switching spots with you was enough to make him shudder, shaking his head in effort to rid himself of the idea.
“Oh Shadow, people aren’t all bad!” Maria’s voice echoed. Shadow stopped dead in his tracks, the sudden flashback startling him. Why would he remember that now, of all times and places?
You weren’t too far behind Shadow, but you swore he glided to work effortlessly even without his air shoes. It wasn’t until he paused that you were able to catch up with him, letting out a small chuckle as you bumped shoulders with him lightly. This seemed to pull him out of his daze.
“C’mon, spacey, we don’t want to be late. I still owe you a breakfast sandwich for yesterday!”
“Wait- what? What are you talking about?”
You turned to look at the dark hedgehog, a smile creeping on your lips, “you saved me from that older gentleman, remember? He was making all sorts of comments-“
Shadow let out a “tch-“ sound before furrowing his eyebrows further, “Oh. You don’t owe me anything for that. You seemed uncomfortable.” His pace picked up a bit, causing you to need to start into a light jog to keep pace with him.
“I mean- yeah. He was being a bit creepy.” You huffed out a breath, once again embarrassed only this time by how winded keeping up with Shadow made you. “Hey, could you slow down a bit? We aren’t running that late or anything.”
Shadow eyed you from the side, smirking slightly before slowing his pace, “well, lucky for you, we’re here.” He motioned toward the building in front of you both, windows lining the outside to reveal the dark seating area of the cafe. You let out an exaggerated huff in an effort to make light of your winded state before digging in your bag for the keys to the front door. After wrestling with the key for a moment, you were able to unlock the building and begin setting up to open.
“Hey Shadow, I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you like your coffee?”
Shadow paused for a moment while he removed the chairs from atop their respective tables, pushing them in and moving on to the next methodically, “black, which I’m sure you probably could’ve guessed.”
“Ah- right. My bad. That does seem too fitting to not be obvious, huh?” you laughed shyly, starting the brew and selecting a breakfast sandwich to heat up for your counterpart. Man, you’re really going 3 for 3 this morning, huh? Your head hung low before rolling your shoulders back. This is your last chance to invite him, don’t screw it up!
The oven chimed as an indicator that Shadow’s sandwich was done, encouraging you to work up a bit of courage to not only present the seemingly unnecessary gesture but to also address him. You plated the sandwich and placed it on the table Shadow had just cleared off.
“Your breakfast, my good sir!” you bowed dramatically, getting a strained chuckle in response from Shadow. Clearing your throat, you figured now was as good a time as any, “I wanted to ask you something.”
Shadow sat in the chair in front of the sandwich, thankful that he wouldn’t have to resort to the corner store option, “hmm?”
You waited a moment to see if his gaze would meet yours, only to realize after a few bites in that your gesture maybe wasn’t as unwanted as he made it seem. “Well, see, I am going to be having a few people over later tonight to celebrate New Years. Rouge, Silver, maybe a few others, and uhm-“ you gulped, your mouth dry as your original, short invitation started to take a turn for the worse. “And... you? If you’d like to come?” Your ears drooped a tiny bit, your body subconsciously preparing for the inevitable rejection you were sure you would face.
Much to your surprise though, Shadow paused his chewing to look at you, “Yeah. I could stop by.” He continued to eat, completely unfazed by your shock at his response.
“Really?? That’s great! I mean- that’s, uhm, yeah! The party starts at 8PM!”
Shadow said nothing, which you took in stride, practically twirling as you went to grab him a coffee.
The work day somehow dragged on and yet also was over before either of you knew it. Shadow was appreciative of the routine of brewing the coffee, cleaning the machine, collecting dishware, and starting over as it allowed him to shut his brain off. It seemed to be determined to pull the rug out from under him today considering his flashback earlier. Memories of Maria weren’t unwelcome by any means, but Shadow recognized his emotional responses to them weren’t necessarily appropriate at work. He could have contemplated the reason behind their resurgence, but he simply chalked it up to his recent living situation changes, unwilling to dig deeper than that. Although, he might not have been too far off.
Rouge wasn’t the only one Shadow had heard speak of normalcy longingly; Maria’s illness was better managed whilst in the care of her grandfather, but that didn’t mean she got to experience much of a normal childhood as other kids her age did. She was at the mercy of her grandfather’s schedule and her small living quarters. “I know it seems silly,” she would say softly, “but sometimes I miss going to school. I miss riding the bus. I miss running through flower fields and my parents yelling for me when the street lights came on.” These concepts had meant very little to Shadow at the time, but as life had settled around him, he couldn’t help but wish he could show Maria that he was trying to live each day with her in mind.
The New Year creeping up on him was maybe too much of a reminder that he hadn’t done that great of a job to really appreciate the peace he had recently found. All he could hope for is that the party tonight would not be something he would regret agreeing to. I’ll make a promise to Maria that I will do better in the coming year.
You stared at your reflection for far too long. Clothes were strewn about your bed, all rejected options for tonight’s celebration. “You don’t need to overdo it!” you said to yourself, gripping the jeans in your hands. “Just wear the stupid jeans and find a comfy sweater. This isn’t meant to be some crazy thing.”
A knock on your door indicated that you didn’t have time to continue to bemoan over your lackluster wardrobe any longer. Throwing on the clothes in hand and quickly fluffing your hair, you made your way to the front door to greet your first guest. To your surprise, Shadow greeted you with a bottle of champaign.
“Hope this is okay,” he said, looking you over subtly. He was dressed in a pair of dark slacks, a turtleneck sweater, and a nice blazer. You could feel the dread set in once again before mentally shaking yourself out of it, “yes! This is fine! Thank you, you really didn’t have to bring anything.” You welcomed him inside and placed the champaign on the kitchen counter before turning to pull refreshments from the pantry and fridge.
Shadow stood next to the door as he watched you move about your apartment, removing his blazer and placing it in the crook of his arm. Your own apartment wasn’t much different than his, the layout the same, but flipped. It seemed much more suitable to host guests than his own, he noted, as he moved across the living room to where you were at in the kitchen. He hung his blazer along the back of one of the dining room chairs before holding his hands out to you. By this point, you were struggling to move the punch bowl, having filled it prematurely and realizing you would have to move the full thing to its proper place. Shadow’s outstretched arms took you by surprise but you did not refuse the help. You gingerly placed the bowl into Shadow’s arms, “thanks- uhm, you can set it on the bar counter next to the cups.”
He nodded and placed the bowl with ease, something you were quite jealous of. His otherworldly strength was quite useful while you two worked together, as he did a majority of the heavy lifting when food shipments arrived. Of course the simple task of moving the punch bowl would be easy for him. You laughed at yourself quietly at the thought and quickly turned away to continue setup.
It did not take long for the other fantastic mobians to join you both, the space of your apartment quickly filling with sounds of chatter and laughter. As the festivities kicked off, you began to notice that Shadow wasn’t really interacting with anyone (except for Rouge every now and again when she would seek him out). You had made a mental note to check in with him, but were quickly swept away to host.
You had never quite pulled something like this off, and the constant interaction was quickly draining your own social battery. Chaos, if I’m feeling this way I can only imagine how Shadow is doing. The thought prompted a quick scan of the apartment, but Shadow was nowhere to be seen. Your brows creased with concern, hoping he hadn’t left without saying anything. However, your search would need to wait as you felt an intense need to step outside for a bit of fresh air. You checked in with Tails, asking for him to keep an eye on things while you stepped out, to which he smiled at you and told you not to worry.
One of your favorite parts about this apartment was access to a private balcony. It wasn’t anything impressive but it made for a nice getaway when you needed it. You pulled on the door, struggling as it stuck to the doorway before prying it open and prompting Shadow to turn around to face you.
“Oh- sorry! I didn’t mean to, uhm-“ you gulped, startled by his presence. Why was talking to him always so nerve-wracking? “I just needed some fresh air.”
You watched as Shadow shifted over to allow some space to join him, “be my guest.”
Struggling again to close the door behind you, you moved next to him to rest your arms on the railing. Your eyes gravitated toward the sky, catching sporadic flashes of light from fireworks far off in the distance. The cool night air was a refreshing contrast from the sudden stuffiness in your small apartment and almost immediately your body relaxed. It was only at that point that you were able to take a deep breath and really released the subconscious tension you held in your shoulders since everyone arrived.
“Quite the turnout, huh?” you offered, shifting your gaze to Shadow.
He stood unmoving, his eyes now fixated on the sky above him. The stars lit up their dark backdrop, competing only with the bursts of fireworks every now and again. Shadow hadn’t seen the night sky like this in what felt like a lifetime. He had his own balcony but rarely ever used it, having forgotten it was there for the most part. In his solitude, he had very little reason to occupy the space.
The silence between you two and his unbroken focus on the sky brought you to look up again. This moment was not unwelcome nor awkward like you feared it might be. You felt a wave of comfort wash over you as you listened to the muffled sounds of your friends indoors alongside the chirping of crickets and popping of fireworks.
Shadow finally acknowledged his lack of a response to you, shifting slightly and clearing his throat, “I wonder if Maria had gotten to experience a New Years like this.” Taken aback by this vulnerability, you turned to Shadow again.
Maria. That was a familiar name in regards to the dark hedgehog. You knew she was the only friend he had before he was captured by GUN, having suffered a horrendous fate at the organization’s hand. You contemplated if she was the reason for his more prominent standoffish behavior tonight.
“This place reminds you of her, doesn’t it?” The words came out as hardly anything more than whisper, your effort to come across as tender shining through.
You watched as Shadow winced, moving his hands to interlock his fingers. “Not just this place.” He took a deep breath, as if calculating how much he wanted to divulge to you. “Everything and everywhere does...”
His voice was low and barely audible in comparison to the world around you. Shadow had been carrying the weight of Maria’s death with him through life, a feeling you could only imagine. His ears drooped slightly as his gaze shifted downward to his hands. He studied their shape, taking note of his inhibitor rings and the creases along his fingers, trying to remember what Maria’s felt like. With another small breath, he continued, “memories of her are in everything.”
To say you were stunned would be the understatement of the century. You took in the scene of Shadow, arms resting on the railing in front of him, the fingers of one of his hands tracing the other, his demeanor sad and sincere. You placed your hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. His eyes lifted to meet your own, his gaze years away as tears pooled and fell along his cheek. You smiled at him, pulling him gently toward you.
He hesitated at first before accepting your embrace. You held each other there for a moment, searching for the right words to say in response to his. Everything seemed to come up short, in your mind, sounding way too cheesy and cliche to truly convey your desire to comfort Shadow. Against your better judgment, you pulled away to look at him.
“I think... that’s how you help keep their memory alive. You carry them with you in some capacity. You associate certain things in life to them, and you cherish those things more than you would have otherwise.”
You paused, searching his expression in an effort to ensure you weren’t overstepping. He stared back at you, his usual scowl nowhere to be seen, his expression softer than you had seen before.
“Maybe it also helps us live life to the fullest and not take things for granted.”
He nodded slowly, your words sinking in as he stepped out of your arms to look at the sky again.
“She would have wanted me to enjoy life,” he said thoughtfully. Shadow took a deep breath before looking at you once again, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Thank you.”
You returned his smile in kind, imprinting this moment to memory for you to cherish always. After a brief pause, you offered your hand to him, “what do you say we go back in?”
He looked down at your hand and nodded, wiping the tears from his face and giving the night sky another glance. Shadow would have to remember to spruce up his own balcony to enjoy the stars.
Your fingers intertwined with his as you started to head back inside; the backdoor being of no issue for Shadow (of course) to pull open and close shut with ease. He let go of your hand after giving it a light squeeze and moved through the group to find Rouge of his own accord, smiling back at you. Sonic approached you, taking note of the interaction, “wow, never thought that guy could actually smile! You sure we don’t have a SUPER faker among us?”
Your elbow jabbed into Sonic’s arm playfully as you laughed and shook your head.
As midnight approached, you all gathered around the TV in the living room and counted down the New Year. Shadow closed his eyes, allowing Rouge to shake him as she joined the others in celebrating. His eyes opened and rested their gaze on you, watching as you cheered alongside everyone. It was then that he decided; he was going to make sure he did everything he could to appreciate his newfound friends and peaceful existence, just the way he hoped Maria would have wanted him to.
#tried to write smut#all i have to offer is fluff#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow the hedgehog#shadow x reader#wholesome#✧*̥˚ my fics *̥˚✧
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The Anger of the Soul | Natasha Romanoff! x Gender Neutral Rogers Reader.
After an unsuccessful mission, the reader ends up having trouble controlling their own anger and injures their hands. Natasha takes care of their injuries and feelings, and everything ends up going beyond what she planned.
Note: This is my first oneshot so forgive me for any spelling mistakes below, I hope you enjoy this.
Warnings: None.
Fluff, soft angst.
Word count: 1,4 K

The shrill sound of ambulance sirens was too much for their ears. All that blood, that dirty earth, building debris and rubble on the ground, it was too much. The mission had failed. An excruciating pain spreading through their wrist brought them back to reality, staring at the empty gym ahead. They had failed and the guilt would consume them until it corroded their nervous system, until it drove them to the limit. But Y/n already felt at the deepest limit.
“Ugh!” They growled, landing blow after blow on the poor punching bag in front of them.
There was something deep down in Y/n's mind that told them that the failure of the mission was their own fault, that everything there had resulted from their incompetence and misery. A strong kick knocked the bag to the floor, previously hanging by a thin sports rope under the gray ceiling of the gym, and they began to remove the bandages from their hands quickly.
Their knuckles were raw, not only from the combat on their mission, but also from their little conflict with their own punching bag. Y/n sat down exhaustedly on the nearest bench, broad shoulders rising and falling along with their tired chest, their forehead sweaty and their once hopeful eyes now staring at a fixed point in the darkness of their own twisted mind. Footsteps sounded down the center hallway and they looked up furiously to see a red-haired female figure enter the gym.
“You shouldn't take this out on yourself, Rogers.” Natasha scolded seriously, approaching to help them remove the bandages and holding their wrists.
Natasha stood there, small bruises on her face, almost nonexistent. She was wearing a simple black tank top, tight uniform pants, boots, and still had her holster on, a revolver tucked into her waistband. Her red hair was impeccable as always, her green eyes worried and confused.
The cuts on their hands and knuckles were deep, dried blood marking their pale skin like some of the many battle scars they carried with them. Y/n shook her head, lowering her gaze from them and trying to avoid Romanoff's gaze on their faces, she intimidated them and she knew it.
“We could have done better. I failed at everything ” They groaned, getting up from the bench to go to the nearby bathroom and stick their hands under the cold water, trying their best to ignore the excruciating pain of every tiny cut and bruise.
“We all fail, that doesn't mean the weight of the world has to be on your shoulders alone. You are my friend. Let me help.” The redhead asked as she approached again, carefully grabbing her friend's wrists.
No words came out of Rogers' mouth. They went back to the gym and sat under the bench while they allowed Natasha to clean the rest of the dried blood with a damp cloth, using a small tweezer to catch small shards of glass lost in the mission. Her eyes were beautiful and Y/N hated to think about it, they were friends. But they felt for her, things that friends shouldn't feel, and they would suppress it as soon as possible.
“I know you hurt the rest of your body, take off your shirt so I can take a look.” Natasha asked calmly and politely, placing the blood-soaked cloth in a pot of water, watching the clear water turn bright red.
They took off their shirts, their eyes going anywhere and in any direction other than Natasha's. It seemed unusual in a way. Natasha was very respectful and skeptical, of course, but they still weren't used to simply taking off their shirts in front of her. It was somehow exposed. Romanoff noticed some bruises on Y/n's body, moving away to get some ice packs and some painkiller.
“You don't have to do this, I don't want to be a burden, Nat.” She heard them speak again, her red eyebrows arching before looking at them deeply.
“If you say you're a burden again, I'll give you a black eye myself.” The redhead whispered, her serious green eyes staring into theirs and then she sat down on the bench too.
Natasha applied some of the cold ointment to her hands, carefully working it into Rogers' skin, massaging their tense shoulders and squeezing, hearing a few exhausted sighs in response. She subtly pressed the muscle in their bicep, biting her lip to keep the unprofessional thoughts from entering her mind.
“Your hands are divine.” Natasha heard Rogers' soft whisper and smiled mentally, continuing the little massage.
“Focus, Rogers.” She teased, her fingers trailing down the middle of their back.
She felt them tense and then she quickly removed her fingers, seeing a cluster of deep scars in the middle of their spines. She already knew that S/n had those scars. War scars. Some were old, some they had earned during all their missions as the Avengers. Natasha swallowed hard, pressing the ice pack to one of the deep, violent bruises on their arm, trying to breathe calmly as she helped her friend.
“I feel so angry that even breathing feels wrong.” They whisper, their voices deep and hoarse with so much fury kept inside and stored inside themselves.
“..I don't want to feel like this anymore, but all I want most of the time is to break things. Without fear of the consequences, just break and smash anything that dares to move, Sam got hurt today because of me. ” They shook their heads, jaw clenching tightly.
“No, he didn't! He got hurt because we were too far away to catch him and you carried him to the safest spot yourself. Y/n, you saved him.” Natasha corrected them, her warm hand cupping their faces with a simple, subtle touch.
Y/n felt a small shiver at Romanoff's touch, their faces softening little by little and they slowly moistened their lips. Natasha's touch was like being on the edge of paradise. It was like a pure feeling, the purest and sweetest feeling in the world, an inevitable cliché that not even the redhead knew the power she had.
“This anger consumes you. This anger makes you sick. We need to take care of it.” Natasha slid her hand over the middle of their chests, the sound of rapid heartbeats making her eyes close quickly.
“I know exactly what destroys my anger, what calms and numbs my fury. I don't need anything else.” Rogers stated, their dark eyes flicking between Natasha's eyes and her lips.
Natasha blinked in confusion, not taking a single step away from them. She watched Rogers lean closer, their now soft breath landing on Romanoff's porcelain face. And then, with a firm, slow movement, their fingers gripped her slender waist, pulling her close before pressing their lips to hers.
Natasha's lips were full, soft as lying on a lawn full of fresh roses. The feel of her skin on theirs sent a shock through both their bodies, which were in a state of deep frenzy. Romanoff closed her eyes, her hand instinctively grabbing their shoulder, squeezing gently before returning the kiss with passion, her body starting to burn in flames.
Y/n kept one hand on her waist, the other long hand snaking down the agent's body until it sank into her red hair, her fingers getting lost in the fiery, red softness. Natasha let out a small gasp when their tongues met for the first time, the innocence of the first kiss slowly escaping between silent lines.
“You are the solution. You are the cure for my rage, Nat.” Rogers whispered, their lower lip being slowly bitten by Natasha.
“Before I thought we shouldn't rush so much... now all I need is you, no matter how long it takes.” Romanoff sighed, feeling a small trickle of saliva leave their lips.
They turned as soon as they heard footsteps, still glued to each other when a Steve entered the room, half in uniform, stained with blood and with cuts on his face. He looked suspiciously between the two, his mouth slightly open in an 'O' and then took a deep breath.
“I think I'd better come back later.” Their brother announced, his face slightly red and his blond hair completely disheveled.
“Great idea, Steve.” Y/n shook her head, hearing an embarrassed laugh from Natasha.
They felt Natasha's arms snake around their shoulders, her sweet yet mysterious scent filling their senses, their body that was once tense and completely filled with anger now softened. Calm. Tranquil. A well of tranquility, literally. All Y/n really needed was Natasha with them. They needed her, not just to control their anger. They needed her because their souls were destined for each other, and that would never change.
“Okay. You can relax now.” Natasha murmured, tightening her embrace around them.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#marvel#black widow#ucm#natasha romanoff x you#marvel heroes#steve rogers
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My Beliefs and Principles
A number of people are trying to brand me as transphobic, so I thought I would list out a number of my personal beliefs so folks coming across this in the future can judge for themselves.
I believe love is love, and consenting adults should be able to have whatever form of relationship they want or don't want. I believe governments should recognize all these unions with the same rights.
I believe people should be able to change their name, gender identity, and preferred pronouns whenever they want and however many times they want. I personally endeavor to follow all these preferences that are known to me.
I support adults making any modifications to their body they like.
I support people choosing to share or keep private the above.
This is not meant to be comprehensive, and in researching this post to make sure I was using the right language to express my beliefs I read through the Yogyakarta Principles and agree with everything in that document, which is much more comprehensive.
A few other points I'll include for context and history:
Both Automattic and WordPress.org, founded or co-founded by me in 2005 and 2003 respectively, have consistently supported LGBT+ organizations, contributors, and employees.
Automattic's open time off benefit includes full pay for medical time off has supported a number of people transitioning. We've invested considerable development time in updating or working around legacy HR systems to recognize the principles above, and will continue to as best practices evolve or we find mistakes.
When we remodeled Automattic's NYC office before moving in we made the bathrooms gender neutral. Same for a commercial warehouse I've recently remodeled.
I've personally donated to LGBT+ organizations as far back as 2016, and more recently have donated mid five figures to Human Rights organizations.
I have dedicated my life since the age of 19 to open source software, which I believe to be radically inclusive, and democratizing publishing, commerce, and messaging. My hope is this work contributes, even if in a small domain-specific way, to a more fair and just society.
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Hair Washing (Levi Ackerman x Gender Neutral Reader)
Description: Just a little slice of life story about helping Levi wash his hair post war.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, nudity, suggestive content (nothing too graphic), and comfort.
A/N: Here’s the first of my end of the year fics that I am writing. I’ve always liked the idea of a soft Levi so I decided to go with that in this fic. Anyway Enjoy!
P.S: Working on chapter 7 of my Gojo fic so keep your eyes open for that!
You hear the all too familiar clatter of what you assume is the shampoo bottle followed by the not so quiet, “Fuck”, that spills out of Levi’s mouth. It had been a never ending battle for Levi in these past few weeks, trying and often failing to shower properly on his own. His injured leg made it near impossible to stand anymore and his lack of fingers on his one hand made gripping soapy slick things extremely difficult.
You sigh, before going to stand awkwardly at the door too afraid to knock. Levi and you had argued bitterly about this predicament, while he was grateful for your offer of help, he didn’t want to feel like an invalid. You respected his feelings and were supportive of him doing things on his own. In fact, you’d always let Levi do things on his own, only helping when he begrudgingly asked you for assistance (after failing to complete the task multiple times on his own).
But today you as you stand near the door you feel a difference in the air, hear a quiet cry of pain and you decide then and there you were done with this situation the two of you were in. You fling the bathroom open and catch the grimace of pain on Levi’s face that he was trying to mask. “I thought I told you that I can do it-”, Levi starts, anger clear in his tone, but for once you don’t care and soon two words that you never thought you’d say to your partner roll off your tongue. “Shut up”, you tell him before you lean down to grab the shampoo bottle you knew he had desperately been trying to pick up, before placing carefully back in its usual place as you flick the shower off for a moment.
Levi stares at you with a shocked expression, eyes blown wide open. In all the years of being in the Scout Regiment together he knew you to be a bit temperamental at times, but never once had you ever spoken back towards a higher ranking official. He watches as you run your palm over your face, fingers rubbing the sides of your temple and sigh, a clear indication of your frustration. “Levi, I know you can do it on your own, I do”, you begin after you remove your fingers from your head, your eyes locking with his.
“You are and will always be one of the strongest people I know. But remember sometimes even the strongest need help and there’s no shame in that”, you finish, tone a bit softer. You watch as Levi huffs before closing his eyes for a long time as he was trying to think of a counter argument. You use the opportunity to squat down near the stool he was sitting on before reaching out to gently cup his cheek, your movements forcing him to open his eyes. “I have an idea in mind, a sort of compromise if you’re willing to hear it?”, you ask him, your voice gone of any previous anger. You so desperately wanted to help him and fighting wasn’t going to solve this.
“Well seeing as you told me to shut up, I don’t really have a choice”, Levi gruffly responds. Your cheeks go red with embarrassment, guilty that you’d let your anger get the best of you. However you hear the lingering trace of cheekiness in his words and know that he’d forgiven you. “Listen, how about for the next few weeks I help you shower”, you start, but Levi doesn’t look too happy with your words. “Let me finish”, you tell him with steely eyes and watch as Levi swallows whatever words were in his mouth. You grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze before continuing. “As I was saying, I’ll help you shower the next few weeks. But during that time we’ll see what we need to change about the bathroom in order to make showering alone easier for you to do”, you finish with a small smile on your face.
You watch has Levi ponders your suggestion. It was a fair idea, he had to admit and if the two of you managed to change up the bathroom to be more accessible, then he’d be able to gain a sense of independence he’d been trying retain. “Ok, let’s do it”, Levi finally says and you jump up with an excited squeal as Levi sighs quietly, though there was a barely there smile that graced his features. “Now, may help you?”, you ask Levi sweetly. He nods his head in ascent and you get straight to work…by taking off your own clothes.
“What are you doing?”, Levi questions, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. “Oh please, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before, if I remember correctly last night you were the one practically begging me to lose my clothes”, you quip back, making his ears turn a darker shade of pink. “Besides I don’t want my clothes getting wet”, you continue before turning on the warm water. “You could have just started with that”, Levi mutters though his good eye clung to the curvature of your body, a sight that would never bore him. You were the most beautiful thing on the planet and as you lean down to kiss his forehead, Levi begins to question why the two of you have never showered together in the first place. My stubborn pride, he muses internally.
“Ok, what’s the most difficult thing for you?”, you question as you move to turn the water warmer, the temperate spray falling on both of your bodies. “Reaching for things”, Levi admits honestly, though his tone was thick with embarrassment, which you politely ignored. “Could you please reach for the shampoo so I can make a note of where we need to move the shelf?”, you ask him softly as the water continues trickle down your bodies, its heat creating a steam that swirled around the room. You watch carefully as Levi moves his arm and you make a mental note of where it hovers in the air. “Thanks, I’m gonna start washing your hair”, you murmur as you grab the shampoo, slathering the soap in your hands.
Once they are covered in suds you place your hands onto Levi’s head, fingers working with a meticulous pace as you work the soap into his dark locks and onto his scalp. Levi leans his head back slightly, lost in the touch of your fingers on his head, he moans quietly as your fingers scratch around his ears in a delicate manner. Levi cracks an eye open, to look up at you, your head blocking the water that falls from the shower head. His good eye focuses on your face, capturing the determined yet, soft expression of your face as you continue to wash his hair. Levi can only guess the look on your eyes was the overwhelming love you had for him, something that makes his heart beat a little faster.
You catch his eye watching you, causing you to give him light smile before you lean down and capture his lips with a soft chaste kiss. “Let’s rinse your hair now”, you tell him as you move your head out of the way, letting the water fall across Levi’s face and hair. Your fingers work quickly to rinse out the soap as they thread through his hair, though you are mindful of the potential knots your fingers catch from the earlier scrubbing. You move to stand in front of Levi, hands moving to cup his neck gingerly as you straighten his posture. “Ok, body washing time”, you begin, but Levi cuts you off. “Wait”, he mumbles quietly, voice nearly catching in his throat. You look at him, eyebrows raised, your question spoken through your eyes. “I want to wash your hair”, Levi tells you, voice firm, though his face holds a different emotion.
“Ok”, you murmur as Levi hands come to grip your waist, pulling you onto to his lap. Your thighs come to rest against his hips as your feet rest on the tile floor, brushing up against the stool’s legs. Your hands are splayed on Levi’s shoulders as you straddle his waist, your ass firmly planted on his strong thighs. The two of you get lost in the intimate embrace for a moment, his stormy blue eye holding your own eyes at attention. Levi uses this opportunity to then softly brush his lips against your own, a small gesture riddled with so many unspoken words. Soft Levi was his way of expressing his love without him having to explicitly state it. Your hands release their hold on his shoulders as they creep up back into his wet locks, your arms moving his neck forward gently forcing his face closer. You part your lips, allowing the kiss to deepen, moaning faintly as his tongue swipes against your own. Levi’s grip on your waist tightens, his internal battle of desire brooding on the surface. As much as he’d love to take you here and now, Levi knew that intimacy wasn’t just sex, it was other things, so he resolved to complete his stated task.
With a hushed sigh, Levi begrudgingly pulls away from your heady lips. “Let me wash your hair”, Levi reminds you as he pecks your nose for a brief second, letting you catch your breath. You let out a muffled “Mhmm”, as you grab the shampoo bottle, pouring out more soap, this time into Levi’s palm. You duck your head down as Levi’s fingers work the soap into your hair. You close your eyes as his fingers massage your temple silently, the only sound that could be heard was the water steadily rolling down into the drain. When he was finished, Levi’s fingers moved to help rise the suds from your hair as the still warm water continued to flow across your bodies, almost as if the two of you had been caught in a warm summer rain shower.
Once Levi had completed his task, you reach to grab the body soap, lathering your hands as you rubbed the bar between your fingers. You stand, sad as you removed yourself from your comfortable position on Levi’s lap, but as much as you wanted to remain there and kiss him senseless, the two had now been in the shower for quite some time, your pruned fingers a clear indication of just how long you’d be in the water. “Ready?”, you ask him as you lean down, hands freely roaming his body, layering his skin with a delicate line of soap. Levi wraps his arms on your shoulder as you carefully hoist him up for a moment, allowing himself to clean the parts of him that he couldn’t whilst he was sitting down.
As Levi rinses his body you work quickly to wash your own body before rinsing off yourself, letting the last of the warmth wrap you into a gentle embrace before you finally turned off the water. You step out of the shower to grab two towels from the cabinet across from the sink, handing Levi one before wrapping the fluffy fabric around your body. You watch Levi dry himself of, eyes continuously trained on his sculpted body. “What?”, he asks, bringing you back to attention. “Nothing…I just…you’re, striking”, you mumble, before turning away to dry your hair. Your words cling to Levi, he enjoyed making you flustered, but this time he felt something deeper within your words.
“Thank you”, Levi murmurs as the two of you finish getting dressed, you helping him sit down in his wheelchair. “You don’t need to thank me”, you tell him, picking up the dirty clothes and towels before placing them in the hamper. “No, I do, I’ve been stubborn about this for a while, but today was nice”, Levi continues, sincerity laced in his words. “You’re welcome”, you answer back. “Now, what do you want for dinner?”, you ask him, stepping out of the bathroom. You hear Levi sigh, “No way in hell am I letting you cook again”, he calls after you. You laughter rings through your home and as Levi follows you into the kitchen he can’t help be feel a sense of gratefulness that this is the life he gets to lead now.
#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan#aot x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#levi x y/n#aot levi#aot fic#aot drabbles#aot fluff#levi ackerman
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Like Father, Like Child | Alastor + Exorcist! Reader
Familial! Alastor + Exorcist! Adopted Child! Reader
Description: You always had murderous urges, just like your adoptive dad. Of course, you didn't know he had them too; not until the day he died, when you swore to never act on them and end up like him. Now, you're one of Adam's exorcists, about to fight in the battle between heaven and the Hazbin Hotel.
(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of murder) (gender neutral reader) (reader is Alastor's adopted child from when they were alive) (Part 1 of 4)
Words: 3,317
You awoke to the sound of banging at your door and groaned, knowing it was way too early in the morning to be up. You'd been having a particularly pleasant dream, too, though you couldn't remember what it had been about now.
Turning over in your bed, you attempted to ignore whoever was out there. Maybe, if you didn't acknowledge them, they would go away and leave you alone?
You were wrong. A few seconds later, the banging continued, making you shove your face deeper into your pillow. "Are you up?" A familiar voice called from the other side of the door but you remained silent. You could hear them huff in exasperation at that. "Come on, don't you know what day it is? Being late would be a really bad idea!"
You rolled your eyes. What could possibly be so important that you had to be up this early for it? This was heaven, after all, so it wasn't like most people didn't respect the fact that you needed your rest. Even if you were late to attend some pressing event, you were sure whoever was running it would be understanding. Everyone here was, except maybe one or two angels you could think of that would probably stab your eye out-
Suddenly, you remembered why today was so important and shot up with wide eyes. Why hadn't your alarm gone off already?
Scrambling across your bed to the little table at its side, you grabbed your phone and opened it to see that you had, in fact, set an alarm. Only, it was for the evening; not the morning. Some help that had been.
"Shit!" You whisper-yelled to yourself as you practically fell out of bed and raced over to your closet to get ready. Luckily, it seemed like the you that had gotten everything ready last night had foreseen this, because your uniform was laid out and ready to go, saving you the time it would have taken to search your closet for it.
"Oh good, now you're up!" The voice outside called as you hurriedly got dressed and then flew over to your tiny bathroom to finish preparing for the day. You were already running ten minutes late, but maybe if you hurried enough, you could make it just in time.
As soon as you'd finished getting ready, you raced over to the door with your mask in hand and threw it open, startling the pink and white spider demon girl on the other side.
"There you are!" She exclaimed with a smile, "I thought I'd never be able to get you out of bed!" You couldn't stay long enough to hear much more of what she had to say though; taking off into flight as you headed down the hall.
"Can't talk now, sorry Moll's!" You told the winner, feeling a little bad for ditching her like that when she'd been kind enough to ensure you made it to work in time. She seemed to understand though because she nodded, waving goodbye to you as you flew off. You resolved to take her out for ice cream when you finally did get back later in order to make up for this. After all, she seemed to have your back no matter how much you'd always tried to push her away.
"Good luck, Jez! Tell me all about it when you get back!" You resisted the urge to cringe at her use of that name, though it wasn't her fault that it made you uncomfortable. Even if it was what everyone in heaven had called you for almost as long as you could remember, it had never been yours.
There was no time to think about that, though; you had to make it to work before your boss noticed your tardiness or he would surely take out your eye.
You waved to the people you knew out and about in heaven's streets as you went; of which, there were few since it was so early in the morning. You knew the way to the heaven's gates by heart, so it didn't take long before you saw them in the distance. Panting from flying so fast, you made your way down to where a huge crowd of other angels had gathered in preparation for what was to come today.
The sight of them was enough to make you nervous but you quickly shook the feeling away, not wanting it to interfere with your job. If you messed up today, you might not be allowed down there again for a while and you weren't sure if your sanity could handle parading around in heaven for that much longer.
Finally, you landed near the back of the crowd, hoping no one other than the few angels lingering there had seen you arrive. You put on your mask now so you would look more put together and then looked around to see if your boss had shown up yet. Hopefully he hadn't; then he definitely wouldn't have seen you arrive late.
"Jez, nice of you to finally show the fuck up!" A familiar voice shouted behind you and you instantly deflated. Of course it would have been too much to hope he wasn't here yet. Still, you turned around, glad for the mask covering your face since it meant you didn't have to fake a smile out of politeness.
"Oh, hi Adam!" You exclaimed and then noticed the other angel standing beside him, "...And Lute."
"You're late." The angel in question said, crossing her arms in disdain.
"Yeah, so sorry about that!" You exclaimed awkwardly, "I, uh, accidentally slept in this morning! Luckily, Emily came and got me so now I'm here! I promise it won't happen again." You were over apologizing, but knowing these two, it was probably the only thing that would keep you from being too harshly punished for your tardiness.
"If you weren't such a great asset, Jez, I'd have kicked you out years ago." Adam told you in a very matter-of-fact tone.
"Years." Lute added with a nod as she crossed her arms.
"You're lucky you hunt down demons like they're fuckin' livestock." Adam continued, "Now, out of my way! I've got some bitches to hype up!" And with that, he pushed past you and through the other angels to get through to the front.
"You'd better prove your worth today," Lute snarled at you as she followed after him, "This is hardly your first slip-up, and even our patience has its limits." You nodded quickly to get her off your back, but in reality, you were glaring through the mask.
She headed up to the front and you let yourself melt back into the crowd now, wishing you could punch that smug expression right off her face. At the front, Adam now began his customary hype-speech you'd grown used to hearing before exterminations.
"Extermination day is here, bitches!" He called, "We're gonna go down and exterminate demon ass!"
"Destroy that ass!" Lute added in agreement. You almost would have wanted to laugh, if you didn't hate those two so much.
"Prepare to slaughter every sinner in that shit hotel!" Adam continued. Now, after having heard what went down in angelic court a while back, you knew where this was going. "And you all remember Vaggie!"
There it was. You winced at the mention of your old friend, whom you'd assumed had run away back when she disappeared on an extermination day years ago. As it turned out, she'd fallen from heaven and was now dating the daughter of Lucifer herself. You weren't sure how to feel about that news, but you didn't think you could get yourself to hate her for it, either.
Of course, it seemed the rest of the exorcists clearly could, because they all let out loud boo's at the mere mention of her name.
Lute must have made a particularly unhinged comment about Vaggie because even Adam seemed taken aback now. "Anyway," Adam went on, "Whoever brings me Vaggie's head gets...I don't know, a million heaven bucks! How about that, huh?" The rest of the angels shouted in joy while you contemplated whether or not 'heaven bucks' were a real thing. You didn't think you'd heard of them before...
"Ladies!" Adam said now, gaining your attention once more, "Let's fuck shit up! ATTACK!" And with that, everyone took off flying down towards hell. Despite the fact that you'd done this plenty of times before in the last seven years since you'd become an exorcist, you still felt that familiar nervousness at the idea of going down there.
What if you saw someone you knew from back when you were alive? There were plenty of people you could think of that had likely ended up in hell, and seeing them wouldn't be particularly pleasant.
But who were you kidding? There was only one sinner you were truly worried about running into down there. It had never happened in the seven years you'd been killing demons for Adam, but that didn't mean it never would.
What would you do if you saw him? You couldn't be sure. After everything that had come out about him after his death, you weren't even sure you considered the man a father anymore. But at the same time, did you have the right to shun him when deep down, you were the same way? It felt hypocritical but the betrayal of what he'd once done still clouded your judgement.
You flew after everyone else now, taking a deep breath as you entered the portal through to hell. You'd done this before, so there was nothing to worry about, you told yourself. Still, there was one fear you couldn't get out of your mind as you flew towards the hotel.
What if you did see your dad, and you weren't strong enough to kill him?
..........
You had always been an...Abnormal child. But then again, what kid wasn't from time to time? You, however, had grown up with urges most people never experienced. They were occasional and you always pushed them out of your mind as soon as they entered, but that didn't mean they weren't there.
You'd thought you were the odd one out for it; that no one around you ever felt the same way. For the longest time, you'd shunned yourself for it, only to later discover that in your case, it simply meant the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree.
The day you found out your dad was dead had been a shock. The man who had been ever-present in your life since the day he'd adopted you was now gone. But more than that, you'd been appalled to discover the kind of secrets he hid behind closed doors; ones he kept even from you.
He was a murderer, they'd said. He'd killed and eaten the people that were thought to be missing from your area for years. That psycho killer he'd always used to warn you against staying out late at night? That mysterious figure that was always in the back of people's minds as they went about their lives? That monster who had been the talk of every newspaper in New Orleans for months?
He was your own adoptive father.
After the shock came the feeling of betrayal. How could he do this? How could the man that had raised you into the person you were today have been such a lie? You'd always looked up to him; always tried to be like him in one way or another to make him proud.
Why couldn't he have taken a page out of your book for once? It wasn't like you'd never thought of doing those things; like you'd never had the urge to kill too. But unlike your father, apparently, you'd had enough self control to never act on those urges. You'd thought he would consider it wrong; improper, even, if you did, but it seemed now that he never would have minded.
In fact, you might have gained even more of his pride if you'd just given in to your own tendencies. How ironic.
Even knowing this, though, you never bloodied your hands when you were alive. If you had, it would have felt like you'd given up; like you'd let your dad win. You needed to prove to him, to everyone, that that was not the case. You wouldn't kill, no matter how much you felt that unsatiable itch in the back of your brain. You would prove to him that things didn't have to end up the way they did; that he could have chosen not to act on his wants like you'd been doing this whole time.
You'd been a teenager at the time of Alastor's death; left alone in the world to fend for yourself as the child of a now-known killer. It had been an immensely lonely existence, which was why you were glad when just a few years into your adulthood, someone finally ended your misery by killing you off themselves in a way that blatantly echoed your father's previous murders.
You'd expected it, and in the end, you'd been happy to say that you'd succeeded in never acting on your homicidal urges. You'd won in that regard.
Which, you supposed, had been enough to get you into heaven, because the next thing you knew, you were standing in front of the pearly gates being greeted by a peculiar looking man with wings and a halo. Not to mention the fact that you bore those things as well.
After that, the rest was history. You knew Alastor hadn't ended up in heaven so there was no chance of running into him there. You had no one else that cared for you either in life or death, so you stuck to your own for the most part.
That, and the fact that your urges still hadn't dissipated. Every day, you held back from running all that you'd built here in heaven; stopped yourself from making the unfortunate mistake of killing another angel. You were still proving this point to your dad, you supposed, even after death.
Even if he never knew about it.
It took a few years for Adam to catch wind of you due to your reclusiveness, but once he did, he immediately saw the potential in you.
The adopted child of a famous serial killer, whom had still somehow managed to stay clean enough to end up in heaven after it all? And, on top of that, you had no ties to anyone else in heaven that might hold you back or make you weak. Molly was the only other angel you really got along with, but even then, you'd always held her at arms length, just in case.
It was a backstory fitting of an exorcist, and Adam must have seen that for himself, because he immediately got to work recruiting you for his cause. It had taken a long time, thanks to the promise you'd made to yourself that you still kept up in death about not killing anyone. However, he knew how to appeal to your murderous nature, and eventually, he managed to convince you that killing sinners wouldn't be a breach of that promise; but a necessary way to protect the rest of heaven.
Or at least, that was what you'd told yourself.
In a way, you knew you'd never believed it. Your dad was down there in hell; you knew he was. Despite everything, you couldn't say killing him wouldn't count as breaking your promise.
Nonetheless, you trained to become an exorcist. The process was long and grueling, extending over many years. It tested you more than any other experience in your life or afterlife had; stripping away parts of your identity in order to provide you with new ones. Taking away some of that softness; that joy, to bring out your cold-hearted nature more instead. You didn't lose everything in that training, but it was certainly enough to make you harder to recognize by the end.
That was also how you'd gotten the name people now called you by.
"If they're gonna be one of ours, they need a killer name!" Adam had exclaimed to Lute, who nodded in agreement.
"Right you are, sir." It was customary for him to name all the new exorcists as they began their training; whether they wanted him to or not.
"Since you're a murderer's kid, ya need a name that sounds wicked as hell," Adam told you with a thoughtful look on his face. You just waited for him to make a decision already; knowing you were going to hate whatever he picked. Your dad had already given you a name you loved as it was; your name. Nothing else could compare to that, even after all that he'd done. "How 'bout Jez?" Adam finally decided, "That sounds pretty rad, and it reminds me of this one hot bitch I used to know. What was her name? Jezebel, or something?" Lute barked a verbal confirmation.
You cringed at the choice but shrugged anyway. Adam seemed content with that because he took a step closer and slapped you on the back. "Alright, Jez it is. Welcome to the exorcists, bitch!" And with that, he and Lute had flown off, leaving you to come to terms with your new identity.
..........
You flew towards the hotel with the rest of the angels now; feeling your nerves bubble up in your stomach at the sight of the huge black forcefield encasing it. There were tentacles coming out of the forcefield too that held angelic weapons, and it now dawned on you that that was probably how these sinners had found a way to harm your kind.
Something about the forcefield felt familiar to you but you pushed the thought away. You didn't have time to worry about it; not when there were demons to take care of. So, when Adam brought the shield down using his own weapon, you flew in and readied your spear just as you had done many times before.
There were a lot more sinners fighting back than you'd initially expected. Adam had made it seem like the only real threat would be the hotel owned by Lucifer's daughter, but given the huge army outside, that clearly wasn't the case. Where had they gotten so much manpower?
You fought most of them off with ease, noticing how they almost seemed to be...drooling? At the sight of you. It was like they wanted to bite a chunk out of you, and you weren't about to let that happen.
You flew to higher ground now, breathing heavily from taking out so many of the odd little sinners. There was a distinct feeling of accomplishment somewhere within you but you ignored it; reminding yourself that you were only killing right now in order to protect heaven, not because you enjoyed it.
...Even though you did enjoy it.
Now that you were higher up, though, you found yourself closer to some of the black tentacles you'd seen before, which extended off a nearby roof and now seemed to be coming your way.
Gasping in surprise, you brought out your angelic spear to try and defend yourself, only for the tentacles to suddenly stop in front of you, as if their wielder had just realized something. Panting, you glanced to the roof, where a deer-like demon dressed all in red with a few black accents was standing tall. His eyes were fixed on you but they weren't what caught your attention immediately.
He wore a big, yellow smile across his face that you would have recognized anywhere. It sent a chill down your spine as the realization that the exact event you'd always feared was currently coming to pass dawned on you.
Here you were, levitating above a huge battle between heaven and hell. Here you were, performing your eighth extermination.
And here you were, staring into the eyes of your father, whom you hadn't seen since the day he died.
..........
Part 2
Part 3
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbinhotel#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#platonic hazbin hotel#platonic hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x child readeer#alastor x daughter reader#alastor x son reader#alastor x adopted reader#platonic alastor x reader#adopted reader#family comfort#fanfic#dadastor#alastor x child reader
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.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙Scars: Shoto Todoroki x reader*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
Word count: 774, Gender-Neutral reader
Being a hero was no easy feat. You and Shoto both knew that and with the responsibility came the sacrifices. Not only mentally but physically. Being a hero has done wonders for the both of you in your own respect. Coming home after knowing you did something good for hoards of civilians made your heart clench every time, but there was always a toll.
A hard one for you to come to terms with were your scars. Littered along your back, chest and legs, even some taking residence along your arms. After years of hero work, it had never gotten easier.
You arrive home, hero suit tattered and worn. With a sigh, you enter your and Shotos shared bedroom, stripping out of your clothing for a much needed shower. Shoto should arrive in a couple hours, leaving you plenty of time to unwind.
You stepped into the bathroom, turning the water on and letting it take you away. The droplets falling from your shoulders, down your chest and running past every indentation among your skin. Your hands ran along them gingerly, scrubbing off every spec of dirt and grime, ridding you from the day's work.
After a decent cleaning, you stepped out, wrapping the towel along your damp body and entering your shared bedroom. As you got dressed, you glanced at the scars in your full length mirror; the severity of them ranging from pink to a dark red.
You sighed, putting on your undergarments to align with your sleep sweats. However, at this moment, you didn't notice the pair of eyes lingering among your clean form. Shoto stood in the doorway casually in his own hero suit, drinking in the sight of you as if he’d never see you again, his heterochromatic eyes following your every move.
You turn a bit, moving to the closet for a shirt as you notice the lingering man. You jump, covering your arms slightly.
Now, have you and Shoto seen each other completely bare before? Yes, of course. Has he ever made you feel uncomfortable in the slightest? Absolutely not. But there have been many times where you just can't shake the feeling of vulnerability and maybe even insecurity when it comes to your scratched up appearance.
“Sho, you scared me”
He grins, walking up to you and wrapping his well-toned arms around your body as his eyes met yours. “Sorry love, I didn't mean to.” You can't help but smile at his admittance, “ ‘s okay, Sho, baby” You leaned up, pecking his soft lips before returning to your earlier endeavor.
As you looked through the closet, you felt his hand run up your sides, entangling around your hips and trailing your back. The action made you tense up, but nothing could top the emotions you felt when feeling his lips trailing your shoulder blades.
“Shoto? What’re you doing, love?” You try to peek at him, only seeing his half and half hair from your peripherals. He hums, “No ones ever kissed you better before”
The sentence takes you aback at first. ‘No ones ever kissed me better?’ In your haze of curiosity, you take notice of a pattern. His long fingers trailed over a relatively big scar along your spine before his lips met it, the cold of his lips meeting the warmth of your back almost agonizingly slow.
He was kissing your scars.
The one thing you intended to get rid of, to act as if they did not exist or even bother you as much as they did. He was actively kissing them as a means to make them better. You can't help the rate at which your heart picks up nor the tears that seem to prick your eyes.
He feels you tense up under his touch, his concern growing slightly.
“Everything okay, dear?” His head tried to meet yours as you nodded, pulling out a random shirt and slipping it on quickly. You turned around, his concerned eyes lingering along your features for longer than you had anticipated.
Without another word, you lean into his touch. He silently complies, wrapping his arms around you, his hands running under the shirt to feel the strewn scarring almost lovingly.
“Thank you, Sho” Your words come out more as a muffled mess in his uniform but he understood you clearly.
“Of course, my love. I’d gladly do it whenever you need, okay? You deserve to be appreciated; each and every part of you.” He leans in, pecking your forehead and with that comes another long silence- however there was no insecurity. No fear or concern. Just a comfortable silence cherished between the two of you.

#my hero academia#cute#drabble#flufftober#my hero acedamia#one shot#my hero acadamy#boku no hero academia#fluff#reader insert#shoto x reader#shoto todoroki#mha shoto#shoto torodoki#todoroki shoto#bnha art#bhna#mha fanart#shouto todoroki#bnha#shouto#todofam#shouto x reader#bnha shouto#mha shouto#mha#mha x reader#boku no hero acedamia#bnha x reader#x reader
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Hear me out
Grunge bf kayn with a hyper feminine gf , like his gf loves sanrio and cute stuff 🫢🫢🫢
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HEARTSTEEL KAYN: ULTRA-CUTE PARTNER HEADCANONS ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW ♡ No TWs ♡ I am so fucking rabid for the idea of this combo...demon bf/ hello kitty reader SUPREMACY
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KAYN
At first, the pairing confuses people, but those that see you and Kayn together recognize that somehow you just work. You soften Kayn's sharp edges in a way that he only lets those closest to him see, and Kayn helps highlight the fact that even though you look innocent and soft, there's more to you than that.
Both you and Kayn recognize how much work it can be to curate and present an aesthetic. That's part of what helps you two mesh so well, even though on the surface, you're entirely different. There's a mutual respect for the other, stemming from understanding.
Though he keeps them stashed in a bathroom drawer, Kayn's got a matching set of soft bunny-ear headbands for when you sleep over. Usually he just bobby-pins his hair back to wash his face, but when you're there, he'll pull out the cute headbands so you can match during your morning/night-time routine. For the sake of his image, please, please don't ever show anyone your bunny-eared, spa-masked selfies.
Kayn has you saved as 'prince/princess' in his phone. Fitting, since you're the patron saint of all things cute and soft, no?
The guys tease him whenever they catch Kayn with your things around the apartment, like when he's washing your pink Starbucks cups or pulling your cinnamoroll pajama pants out of the dryer. "Changing your look, Kayn?" They'll smirk, but he just rolls his eyes and sneers. "It's (y/n)'s, obviously," he bites. He's not really embarrassed, though—truth be told, he loves the way your life has leaked into his enough for others to notice. Besides, those nerds are probably just jealous that he bagged such a fucking perfect cute pastel angel.
Obviously, Kuromi is Kayn's favorite, if he has to pick one. You won him a little Kuromi figure from a claw machine, once, and he actually keeps it on top of his dresser, in full view for everyone to see. (It's probably the cutest thing he owns, and though he might not admit it, he fucking treasures that little figurine.) He sometimes says he's your Kuromi, though not usually in earshot of others. The similarities are uncanny—a proclivity for black, a tendency for mischief—they even have almost the same birthday!
Whenever you're in his room, Kayn sets his LED strip lights to pink for you.
If Kayn's going to be gone for awhile, touring and the like, he always gifts you a Calico Critters set the night before he leaves. "Try to take good care of them, yeah?" He smirks. "I don't wanna come back to the mouse family in the middle of a custody battle."
Kayn stashes a plushie in his underwear drawer, so you'll always have something to snuggle with when you stay with him (besides him, of course).
The visual contrast when Kayn lets you borrow a hoodie or jacket is nothing short of jarring. Here you are, this adorable thing in Mary Janes and a pastel skirt, sporting a bleach-dyed hoodie with a death metal logo. Kayn, of course, thinks the contrast is fucking adorable.
Kayn gently teases you about your bedroom—"I didn't even know this many pink things existed," he'll say"— but the truth is, he loves being in there with you. The softness makes him feel totally surrounded by you. It's gentle. Safe, even. Drinking from Sanrio glasses and slipping underneath a strawberry-printed comforter to spoon you may not be his usual style, but you make it feel so natural. (Sleeping in your bed, though? Kayn doesn't love that as much. He moves around in his sleep enough as is, but now he's got to worry about accidentally shoving your favorite Hello Kitty off the bed? Not fun.)
Kayn's favorite cutesy thing to buy you is sleepwear. Those pastel, soft-fabric cami and sleep shorts combos? Fucking delicious. There's at least three sets of your pajamas stashed in his PJ drawer, and Kayn bought all of them.
#Kayn#Heartsteel Kayn#Kayn/reader#Kayn x reader#heartsteel x reader#Heartsteel#Kayn headcanons#Heartsteel headcanons#Heartsteel/ reader#this pairing is burrowing into my brain and making a home like parasitic worms#I love
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Gender and Harry Potter is such a hydra that just keeps revealing more heads the more you try and chop through it. Case in point: Today I just realized Harry Potter might've been originally intended as a book for boys, which if it was *wow*, way to miss the mark Joanne. Do you think it was actually intended for a male audience? To me it kinda makes sense if it was because of the way most women and girls are portrayed in it.
Bloomsbury Publishing definitely requested that JK Rowling publish with her (gender neutral) initials instead of 'Joanne Rowling' because they were concerned boys would not buy a book with a woman's name on the cover.
My guess is that her British publishers slotted it more firmly under 'boy' than her American publishers did. Harry Potter is 100% a school story, a super established British children's book genre. Historically, there are boy school stories (set in all-male posh public schools) and girl school stories (set in all-female posh public schools.) Hogwarts is of course co-ed, but that fact that it comes out of a literary tradition in which all the characters are the same gender... might help explain why in-universe gender politics seem remarkably absent from the wizarding world.
It actually kind of bugs me, when a canon-compliant fic makes a big deal about male-only inheritance or something, because that's just not something we see. There's one line about "Black family tradition" saying that the house goes to the next oldest guy, but since Dumbledore is worried that *Bellatrix* is about to inherit, it clearly isn't that important.
JKR has made a fantasy society where gender doesn't really matter - Augusta Longbottom and Walburga Black are clearly the powerful matriarchs of their respective families, Maxime and McGonagall are headmistresses, no problem. There isn't the boys quidditch team vs girl's quidditch team, the locker rooms and the prefects bathroom seem to be co-ed, "robes" are gender neutral, there isn't a sense that a specific discipline or type of magic is gendered (we see both male and female Transfiguration, Care of Magical creatures, and Defense Against the Dark arts professors...) There is kind of a sense that the boys are supposed to ask the girls to the yule ball... but multiple girls still ask out Harry. Gender comes up a lot in these books yes, but not so much in the actual worldbuilding. We have gendered bathrooms and dorms, and the rule that the girls can go into the boy's dormitory, but not vice-versa. Ron considers lace a girly fabric. Of the top of my head, that's all of the "gendered" rules I can think of.
But, since the main character is a boy, it makes sense that her British publishers would slot it more into the category of "school story (boy)" and market accordingly. I think it's extremely likely that she was asked to lean more heavily into quidditch, an aspect of the world building that JKR is clearly not interested in. She's said multiple times that she dislikes writing quidditch games - which is why she throws in comedy with the commentary, or makes some magical thing go down, or finds ways to cancel quidditch entirely. The mechanics and tension of the game *itself* are not interesting to her. I think it's also possible this is a reason for Hermione's relatively late intro into the friend group during Book 1? Harry can be friends with a girl, but first we need to establish that Ron is his *best* friend.
But then the books hit America, and the whole "school story" thing didn't read as "boy" as much as it just read "British." There was a sense in American advertising, especially in the 90s, that girl's products were for girls, but boy's products were for everyone. Scholastic Publishing seemed less interested in gendering the book, and more interested in making sure it didn't come off as too high-brow to American children - so we get the name change from "Philosopher's Stone" to "Sorcerer's Stone," things like that.
But then right before the publication of Book 4 the series exploded, and JKR could have just self-published the thing if her publishers didn't behave. So I think that you can see the fingerprints of that marketing push on Book 1, which grandfathered in a number of worldbuilding choices that JKR maybe wouldn't have made later. But pretty quickly it just became JKR doing her thing.
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William Afton Finds the Reader's Dirty Diary, and it's full of fantasies about him.
Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral, but honestly I assumed them to be afab.
TW: Use of word "daddy" in a sexual context, breeding, smut, power imbalance, humiliation.
Life can be stressful sometimes. We all need some kind of escape, whether it be videogames, tv, or even knitting. Your escape just so happens to be a filthy little diary you keep in your bag at all times. And lately, that little guy has been full of dirty, nasty, no good fantasies about your latest crush (and boss) William Afton.
Honestly, you've always had a thing for older men. Once you stepped into his office for an interview you were hooked. You couldn't help but stare as his hands fiddled and played with his pens while he talked. You made a joke about the rainy weather you were having, and he actually laughed. God, what a laugh this man had. Infectious and giggly for someone his age. When he spoke you about melted on the spot. His accent wrapping itself around your name like a comfy sweater or delicate lingerie, taunting you with it's flourishes.
Poor thing, you were so nervous and flushed. You actually looked shocked when he offered you the job. Mouth hanging open (an invitation, really), eyes wide; you looked like a frightened little prey animal. A rabbit, even.
It started out small, just little urges and thoughts hastily written down. What it'd be like to kiss him, hold his hands, touch his hair, etc. Eventually these thoughts became much more... intimate.
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Monday: God, every time I step into his office for a chat I imagine him bending me over that desk of his and breeding me. I want to feel his cock balls deep inside of me. I want him to hold me down and break my back. Like, fuck me already Daddy please! Ugghhh! --------
Tuesday: Fuck, he's so hot. I heard him swear in frustration under his breath while fixing foxy. The thought of milking him dry with my tongue is intoxicating. I touched myself in the bathroom while thinking of him. Damn it, I'm so wet now. I want to swallow his cum so bad. He's so. fucking. hot. --------
Wednesday: Mr. Afton, if only you knew how bad I want you. Touching myself to you late at night, cumming while crying out your name. I want you to devour me. Let me be your little slut. I'd be so good for you Daddy if only you'd let me. Please like me back. I want him. I want him so bad.
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On and on, filling pages upon pages full of smut. Mentally letting him cuddle, kiss, fuck, and squeeze you endlessly. Of course, you knew he would never feel the same way about you. You were just a young little wage worker. You were nothing more than a typical employee. He was polite and kind to you, but never overly so. Sometimes it seemed like he was flirting, but honestly you chalked that up to you projecting your feelings onto him.
Earlier this morning for example, he called you into his office. He assured you that you weren't in any trouble, he just wanted to check up on you. You seemed a little of out it lately and he wanted to make sure you were okay. He even poured you a cup of coffee. He was such a nice older man, acting almost like a caring father figure. (So what, you have daddy issues, don't we all.) You wished he could be more than that, but you accepted this would have to do for now.
Before letting you return to work, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down into your eyes.
"I really like you, y/n. You're a good, loyal worker, and I deeply respect that."
You beamed up at him with a stupid smile on your face. Mr. Afton? Liking and respecting you? Dear god, you must have died and gone to heaven. The heat from his hand sunk down into your core. You imagined his fingers digging deep into your skin, holding you down. You imagined his tongue caressing your neck, lips sucking hungrily at your flesh, his chest pressed against you. Hot blood rushed to your cheeks engulfing your face. He hummed slightly at this before lifting his hand. The spot on your shoulder feeling empty and void at his absence.
"I should really be getting back to work." You stammer, before quickly grabbing your things and fleeing the suddenly humid and intimate office.
-----
About twenty minutes pass before you regain composure. The morning crowd passes by and things begin to slow into their regular routine. Still wet and horny from the crumb of attention he fed you, you rummaged through your bag for your diary, desperate to write down your latest fantasy. Strangely, it's not in it's usual pocket. It's not in the bigger pocket either. In fact, it doesn't appear to be in your bag at all.
No. No, no, no. There is no way you lost that diary. The filthy, disgusting, and embarrassing diary has managed to escape the confines of your bag and is now roaming about the pizzeria.
Panicked, you check the floor behind the counter. Nothing. You check the backrooms. Also, nothing. The kitchen: nothing. The bathrooms: nothing. After systematically checking every room in the entire god damn building you realize you left one room unchecked: Mr. Afton's office.
This cannot be happening.
Even if it is in his office, you made sure to put in bold letters "PROPERTY OF Y/N. PLEASE DO NOT READ" on the front. Everything is going to be okay, it's probably just sitting on his desk waiting for you to come looking for it.
With your heart in your throat, you knock on his office door.
"Who is it?" He asks from inside.
"Y/N." You respond.
"Oh, come in then."
Ah good, so he hasn't read it yet. You open the door.
Sitting with his feet up and crossed on his desk, with one hand rubbing at his croch, he sat. With his other hand, he held up your dirty little diary; holding it wide open. His face was obscured by the book, but he appeared to be deep into it's pages.
"Nice little diary you have here doll."
He tilts his head, revealing a wide and wicked grin.
"Aren't you curious about the real thing?"
You freeze. Unsure if you should respond, or run away and never come back. The room suddenly becomes hot and oppressive. Your chest tightens.
"Mr. Afton! It's not what you think! Please, give it back!"
He laughs.
"I think it is exactly what I think it is love. Got the hots for your boss, have you?"
"I... please... Please don't be angry."
"Oh I'm the opposite of angry love. Be a dear and shut the door behind you. We need to have a little 'chat'."
Swallowing hard, you click the door shut behind you. You find yourself alone with your boss and your filthy diary. He beckons you over. You obey without hesitation, mentally preparing yourself for the worst firing you'll ever experience. He pulls his legs from his desk before standing up from his chair. He completely towers over you. You realize you've never been this close to him before.
"Explain yourself. How exactly, is this not what I think it is?" He teases.
You look away, unable to meet his gaze. Looking down at the floor, you speak in a voice not much louder than a whisper.
"I... I... it's not... it's fiction... I didn't mean anything by it. I... don't mean what is written in there... it's not-"
"Well, it says here" He lifts up the journal and flips back a couple pages.
With absolute glee, he continues: "Ah yes, 'He is so attractive. Mr. Afton, please rail me and pound my tight little hole until I beg to cum. Fill me up and make me yours. Please Daddy, I need this. Let me be your little whore.'"
Shame fills your veins. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He actually read it. Every thought, every fantasy you've ever had about him was written in that diary. Now he knew them all.
"...please... let me go..."
He leans in close, his hot breath and lips grazing against your ear.
"No, I think it's too late for that dear."
One of his hands trails up your side and around your waist. The other teases your collar and travels down to your stomach.
"You know... I would love to fulfil each and every one of those filthy little fantasies." He says as his hand tugs the button free from your jeans.
"You just have to let me... you will let me, won't you?"
He kisses at your neck.
"Yes... please.." You coo into his ear.
In a flash, he lifts you up and sets you on his desk. His hand guiding you to lay back on the dark oak wood. Papers, pens, and trinkets fall to the floor. You look up at him and watch as he strips off your bottoms. He carelessly tosses them aside, his hands returning to part your legs. He looks down at your wet sex and bites his bottom lip. His eyes are full of desire, he looks like a starving man who has just found his next meal. A meal that has been perfectly dressed and prepared for him and him alone.
He pulls down his pants to reveal his fully erect cock. The tip red and glistening with precum. His veiny hands wrap around his shaft. He teases your opening with his tip, before giving it a good few pumps.
"Already so wet for me, but not wet enough."
His masculine hand reaches down as he slides in a finger. Curling up inside of you, he begins pumping your sweet spot. You moan and writhe under him. Just when you though it couldn't get anymore intense, he slips in another finger. He greedily tugs and pulls inside of you. Realizing how loud you're becoming, you cover your mouth. His free hand pulls your arm away.
"No, no no bunny. Let me hear you. Say my name"
"Will.. William Afton.. mmmphhhh..."
"Good bunny. Keep crying for me, begging for me."
Your body begins to shake. Your moans becoming louder and harder to understand as a mounting pressure builds within you.
"Williammm... Aft..ahhh..."
Hot sticky fluids gush out of you, covering his hand and dripping down your thighs. His hand pulls away, only to be replaced by the head of his cock. Slowly, he pushes himself into you. A guttural sound escapes him. He fills you up all the way until you feel his sack pressing against your hips hard.
Rhythmically, he thrusts into you. Soon his office is full of the wet sound of him slapping against you. His hands grab and dig into the fleshy sides of your hips. Leaning over you, he finds an angle to reach even further inside. His lips find yours, tongue welcoming itself into your mouth.
He moves faster and faster, like an animal desperate to reproduce. Desperate to breed you. You gasp for air.
"Mmm... cum inside of me please.... Daddy... ah..." You beg.
"Mgh... oh... don't worry angel.. I will..."
Your insides twist and coil, becoming hotter and tighter with each thrust. You arch your back, cumming on his cock. Unable to contain himself any longer, he shoots thick ropes deep into your guts.
You both lay there, panting and exhausted. Wrapped up in each other's embrace.
"Bloody hell... if only you knew how long I wanted this... bet you're glad I found that journal eh?" He laughs.
This was so much better than those fantasies. Much better.
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i dont know if u accept smut reqs but if u don’t please ignore my ask and i’m so sorry for overstepping!!
but could i please req a hard dom!seungkwan who teaches u a lesson at home after u couldn’t stop whining and begging for him at dinner with ur friends?
18+ / mdi


content: dom!seungkwan, afab reader, teasing, smut, oral (m receiving), letc.
wc: 1399
a/n: im so sorry i took so long to finish this!!! ive been trying to make time for all reqs so its taking a while to get them all out T-T anyways thank u for requesting and i hope u enjoy!!
masterlist
it was common for seungkwan to bring you along whenever he had dinner with the members. it had kind of become a tradition to have dinner together at least once a month, with the members' respective significant others tagging along.
you had been part of the crew for a while, having been dating seungkwan for an extended period of time by now. you were practically just another friend to the members at this point, making all of you quite comfortable with one another.
maybe too comfortable.
seungkwan always thought of you as a well-behaved girl. not even in a dirty way or anything. he just knew you were never the type to act out in public or to purposely become a nuance to him. yes, you would banter with him sometimes, but it was always in good faith and never really went anywhere. sure, you'd often tease him in the bedroom and take advantage of your effect on him time after time, but this always remained behind closed doors.
which was why seungkwan was quite shocked at the way in which you had suddenly decided to behave.
you weren't being too obvious about it, keeping your brattiness between you and himself. it started with a few touches far too high on his thigh, followed by raunchy comments hidden behind a cough. then it evolved into lustful eyes staring down on his own whenever no one was looking.
it even manifested itself into you cornering him on your way to the bathroom as he came back from a bathroom break himself.
you'd planted a steamy kiss on his lips and felt him up in a very unseemly way before letting him know you 'wanted his cock so fucking bad' and making your merry way to the bathroom as he walked back to the table completely flustered. it then (unsurprisingly) proceeded into a text message received by seungkwan a few moments later, a message containing your bare breasts and a look in your eye that he only ever saw between the sheets. except you weren't between his sheets. you were at the restaurant's bathroom, making a fool of him with a mere picture.
that was more or less where seungkwan felt it'd be appropriate to put his foot down. he was never good at resisting you, and he knew that adding the extra layer of being surrounded by his members would only make him break sooner or later. so he decided to throw you a curveball and storm after you in the bathroom, coughing out an excuse of 'forgot my wallet in the restroom' to the other guys before sneaking his way into the hallway leading to the restroom. that's where he found you making your way back to the table before wordlessly dragging you to one of the spacious gender neutral stalls and locking the door.
immediately pushing you up against the wall, he practically growled out his next words.
"you wanted me to embarrass myself out there, huh? knowing i dont know how to act any time you tease me," he assessed, knowing he was right by your shocked expression.
you clearly were expecting him to crumble and make up some weak excuse in order to take you home as you smirked next to him, giving the members clear indication of who begged for who in the relationship. but he decided to turn things on you and give you a taste of your own medicine, maybe show you what it was like to get on your knees for your beloved.
"no, i-"
"did i say you could speak? good girls stay quiet til i tell them do speak. do you understand?", his hands went to run up and down your body, making a game plan of how he was going to take you.
"y-yes."
"good girl. now ..."
his eyed drifted down to your cleavage, reminding him of the dirty picture you had sent him earlier.
without a second thought, his hands grabbed onto your cleavage and forcefully pulled it down, ripping a bit at the arms of your dress before diving right to your tits, mouth open and willing.
"k-kwannie, what are you-"
he ignored your gasp, simply adding more force to the suckling of your breasts, using his arms to push up your hips against his own as he began to grind against you. his groans and your gasps were the only thing that could be heard in the empty restroom.
after getting his fill of your tits in his mouth, he became too frustrated by the mere friction he felt at the grinding of your hips, opting instead to guide you into a kneeling position in front of him.
"you're gonna be a good girl and take care of the problem you caused, right, baby?", he looked down at you with indescribable lust in his gaze.
"yes, kwannie ... want it in my mouth so bad," you begged, licking at him through his pants while you gave him the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen.
in any other occasion, this would've had him on his knees, begging for your mouth around his dick and crying as he felt the barest touch, but today he had to prove a point.
"stop messing around and get my cock out. don't make me repeat myself," he didn't recognize himself as he ordered you around, but he liked the shudder he saw go through you at his demanding tone.
without complaint, you hurriedly undid his pants and brought his boxers down, immediately getting to work as you licked and kissed at his tip.
he threw his head back at your teasing, unable to reprimand you for it. it just felt so fucking good.
luckily for both you and him, this didn't last long. before even realizing it, you were already gagging on as much of his cock as you could get into your mouth, looking up at him with furrowed brows as you wordlessly begged him. he was confused as to what you were begging for at first, only realizing what you meant when you brought his hands behind your head, slightly making him push your head forward and- oh.
was this what you wanted? was this what you'd been after all along?
you wanted him to take control and use you for his pleasure. fuck.
he almost came at the realization, until realizing that he'd much rather cum after fucking your mouth until you cried.
he began pistoling his hips against your mouth, moaning as you let yourself become his pretty fleshlight while he groaned at both the sight and feeling. maybe you weren't a bad behaved girl after all. maybe all you wanted was him to take his frustrations out on you and use you like the pretty doll you were.
or at least he hoped this was the case, because he was already addicted.
"pretty thing ... oh, fuck. such a pretty thing for me to use, aren't you? gonna cum in your mouth, okay? gonna fill you up and you're gonna swallow it all for me, yeah?", he mumbled between moans, knowing his end would come faster than expected.
and he was right. his orgasm took over just moments later, with his hands dragging your head up and down his cock while his hips thrust into your awaiting mouth. he completely lost himself as his orgasm washed over him, making him lose all sense of his surroundings and almost disregard your gagging as he filled your mouth.
he pulled away moments after, crying out in painful pleasure when you still managed to suckle on his sensitive tip as he pulled himself out of your mouth.
he let himself fall down against the wall, now sitting at your level as he tried to catch his breath.
"i hate you," he groaned between breaths.
"yeah. i believe that. you just fucked my mouth like you wanted me dead," you chuckled as you also attempted to regulate your breathing.
"wasn't that what you wanted?", he quirked an eyebrow at you.
"maybe."
"you menace," he chuckled despite his words.
"you like it," you got close enough to him to land a sweet peck on his lips.
"i wont when we have to go out there and explain what we were doing this whole time."
"i got my fill of cock, nothing else matters."
he'd been completely wrong. you were absolutely not a well-behaved girl.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#seungkwan scenarios#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan smut#seungkwan fanfic
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seventeen ot13 reaction + head cannon: if they had a black cat personality type s/o that showed affection (not so) subtly
authors note: hiii! enjoy these quick scenarios i wrote today bcs i realllyyy miss the boys! a lot of these were hard to write but i tried staying true to their personal ideal types + how the members like to receive affection! enjoy :,)
special dt to: @chwecandi mi new amiga! ty 4 being crazy over the boys with me 😭🫂
warnings: none, some kisses here & there but nothing suggestive, should be gender neutral, teeth rotting fluff <3

choi seungcheol: acts of service s/o
scoups knows you aren’t the outwardly affectionate type and respects that but he is such a baby boy :(
as the maknae of his family & yet the eldest + leader of 12 men he NEEDS TO BE TAKEN CARE OF FROM TIME TO TIME (almost all the time) !! he’d be coming home from work exhausted but craving your touch.
you’d give him the quickest peck on the cheek (right on his dimple) before pushing him towards the bathroom.
“why, whyyy, i wanna cuddle!!” he’d complain all pouty :(((
he opens the door and almost cries on the spot. you had prepared him a piping hot water bath with lavender scented epsom salt for any possible soreness and roses for extra hydration. his towel was already hung up as was his robe for when he got out.
he immediately turns back and looks at you like???? why are you the best person ever??? gives you kisses all over your face repeatedly, you tilt your head back trying to dodge some but you secretly loved it.
“okay cheollie get in before it gets cold, choo go away.” you’d complain.
he smiles and starts undressing himself at your order. he gets into the tub and lets out a pleasurable sigh, feeling instantly relaxed. you give a smile at the doorway, happy that your person was content. you’re about to close the door when he suddenly called your name.
“you’re not gonna join me?”
p.s (you joined him ;)
rest of members below!
yoon jeonghan: words of affirmation + acts of service s/o
you and jeonghan enter a new restaurant together. he had been excited, seeing an ad about it a few weeks before it’s opening and wanted to take you but he was too busy to ever make any reservations himself.
so, you had secretly done it yourself to line it up with his free schedule.
“booths or table?” the waiter ask and before jeonghan could answer you spoke up. “table, please.”
jeonghan pouted but followed the lead, heading to your table. “babe, i wanted the booths so i could be closer to you” he said as he sat down on the opposite side of you.
to be honest, you had always found couples who sat in booths up each others asses were frustrating to look at. maybe it’s just because you weren’t the biggest fan of physical touch.
and, today jeonghan had his short black hair styled so that he had slight layers and a bang. he was wearing a black button up with the sleeves rolled up. his black and gold yves saint laurent bracelet fully showing around his slightly veiny arm. you wanted to admire him face to face and the best way to do that was with tables.
so you told him that.
“i wanted you in my direct line of view. you look handsome.” you replied nonchalantly, focusing back on the menu.
he nearly got out his seat to give you a kiss then and there. yoon jeonghan was without a doubt, an insane visual. he was aware of the effect his looks had on people but he was so used to being called: beautiful, pretty etc, especially when he had his longer hair so this felt new. it made his heart flutter.
your words were always so straightforward yet no matter how long you had been dating, they always had an effect on him.
jeonghan put a hand over his heart, making sure it was still beating properly because he could’ve sworn it skipped a beat.
“y/n” he said your name gently, full of love. you looked up, confused at the sudden tone, there was a clear shift in the air that felt way too emotional for you.
“you know how much i love you, right?” he asked. it was a rhetorical question. you knew clear and through, and you had always made sure to let him know as well since too much of physical touch or pda made you slightly uncomfortable.
“i know, i do too.” you replied with a smirk. he was about to speak up once more but the waiter came up to your table, breaking the tension in the air.
hong joshua: gift giving s/o
“ahh babe, this is the third gift you’ve already given me in the last two weeks.” he adorably complained, looking at the new box sitting in front of him.
you pushed his head to the side before pointing at the box. “open it.” you ordered. excited for him to see what would be inside.
he complied, opening up the box and the smile never left his face. it was a perfume making set with customized bottles that had his name on them.
he was practically beaming from ear to ear. eyes almost disappearing as he smiled.
he looked adorable.
you wanted to say it but you always had a problem with cheesy things or just putting your words together in general. so you bought him things, anything he wanted, stuff he looked at for a second; just to see that smile.
joshua turned to embrace you, pulling you into a big hug. you hesitated for a moments before hugging back, hand patting his back slightly awkwardly.
“i really appreciate all this, and you most of all. seriously.”
your heart quite literally skipped a beat but you’d rather eat a 100k scorch level peoper before admitting that.
[a/n: didn’t really mention it but i feel like we all collectively know joshua is 100% the giving type as well >< !!]
wen junhui: quality time s/o
if you were a black cat, wen junhui was an orange one through and through. sure, your boyfriend looked cold but he was a cinnamon role embodied to you and his members.
always finding a new prank to play, new flirting technique he learned on the internet or simply finding any excuse to touch you. it was often overwhelming but you loved him regardless.
jun recently started feeling like he was annoying you, you could tell because whenever he’d be rambling about something he’d cut himself short on his own accord. you’d tell him to continue but he’d simply say it wasn’t important.
it hurt you that he felt that way and you wanted him to know that you didn’t find him annoying. you valued him and his company and didn’t mind if that came along with his constant tricks.
that’s why you called him over your apartment one day after his schedule. he came over, slightly worried because he usually had to make the first move to hang out.
you opened the door and there he was, standing in all his glory. you opened the door wider and he came through, instinctively going in for a hug which you allowed.
“soo..” he started shyly, looking around your apartment.
“what did you plan on doing today?” he asked you, meeting your eyes, searching to see if it would give away what you were scheming.
but you weren’t scheming anything, you simply missed your boyfriend.
“nothing, just missed your presence.” you replied coyly, looking down at your feet before looking back up at him and ohhhh boy was he smiling like a cheshire cat.
you made your way to you living room and flooped down on your couch, he followed behind you and watched you.
you patted the empty seat next to you while looking up at him.
“sit next to me, please.”
that’s all it took for him to practically leap onto the couch, claiming his space next to you. he pulled you into an embrace before settling down and laying his head on your lap.
kwon soonyoung: gift giving + physical touch
you had just left a restaurant with your boyfriend and you were now walking around your favorite secluded park.
you stop in your tracks once you remembered something, “oh right, i have something for you.”
hoshi looks at you, his pink lips forming into a pout. “well this is awkward because i have something for you too.” he’d say.
you pull out the gifs at the same time and you both can’t help but laugh, they were both jewelry boxes.
“ah kwon soonyoung, what am i going to do with you?” you asked teasingly, he’d be so exited like a cute hamster tiger, urging you to open his first.
you open it and sure enough, it’s a ring from the matching couple set the brand had to offer. he’d open yours and it was the necklace/chain version from the same brand.
“i think we’re actually meant to be” he’d say in suchhhh a serious tone it’d make your heart flutter.
“yeah right, as in fate?” you’d say walking away, (after putting on your gifts of course >:( !!), when he’d suddenly tug you back into him.
a warm embrace on a cold winter day, he places a gentle kiss on your head before releasing you and you can’t help but smile.
he truly knew how to make you the shyest person on earth.
jeon wonwoo: words of affirmation? (he talks x you listen) + quality time
jeon wonwoo had a cold and quiet persona but those close to him knew it was all but true.
he was silly, loving when people reacted well to his jokes. he loved learning or reading something new and rushing to tell his loved ones (you) his new learned information, most of all, he loved interactive video games.
he had invited you over about 2 hours ago and you guys were currently sitting on his couch, playing a newly released game side by side.
while you were playing, he had been rambling on about his day. everything from what time he had to wake up, rehearsals, how there was a new makeup artist, comeback concept, and even the last joke hoshi made as they were leaving set.
making sure not to leave anything out even as he concentrated on the game.
it was no longer you turn during the game so while he was wrapping up his story you took a hand and brought it up to his head, petting his hair gently before letting your hand rest at the nape of his neck for a second.
“you’ve been working so hard. you’re doing really well. i’m beyond proud of you woo.” is all you’d say before retreating your hand and picking up your controller once more.
he looked at you, a warm feeling in his stomach. ever since he got with you, he truly learned what (romantic) love was.
“i’m so glad you’re mine.” he’d reply, his cute smile taking over his face before he’d focused back on his game.
[a/n: K!LL ME NOW I WANT HIM SO BAD??\€£\ okay u may continue]
lee jihoon: quality time/physical touch (+ acts of service if u squint)
composer s/o x producer woozi
are you kidding me? this man is head over heels in love with you. and he’s very apparent about that, in his own way.
you guys are both black cats so the whole pda and overally affectionate aspect is out the window but behind closed doors? in the confines of your own houses/studios?
whole different story.
you guys compose and produce music with one or the other on each others lap. gently playing with each others hair, rubbing each others stomach, and sometimes he massages your thigh. nothing inherently sexual about it, he just loves touching you. doesn’t even realize he’s doing it sometimes.
when you’re too busy to see each other he’d ask you to send him a voice note and you would (so confused?) next thing you know he adds it to the beginning or ending of a song he’s working on. adding it to your private mixtape for each other :(
when he’s working too hard, you’d sneak into his studio, keeping him company quietly. you’d place a energy drink and some food by him, patting his hair before giving him a gentle peck on the cheek.
“you’re working hard, take care of yourself as well babe. call me when you’re done, i reserved (seats/tickets/etc) for us around (insert time)”
he’d literally melt???
lee seokmin: acts of service + words of affirmation
you guys are sooooo grumpy x sunshine coded :(((((
oh heavens, he loves u sm like it’s BAD for him??? GET UP DK!
you’d be exiting a restaurant and notice he’s a bit too tall for the walk way door thingy (spare me) so you’d go on your tippy toes and have your hand over it, protecting his head in case he hit himself.
(his heart nearly exploded at the action please let him rest)
it’d be cold outside and he’d have no gloves. you give him one of yours (albeit his hands are wayy bigger) but he’d still be so grateful.
with both your gloveless hands, you’d take them and put them in your pocket. keeping them away from the cold.
(he blushed so bad he litch got warm, give him a warning?)
one day while taking pictures, he didn’t like how any of them turned turned out. you aren’t (really?) on social media so you couldn’t understand the dynamics of the right angle, right lighting and his need to capture the “perfect bf material pic”
whatever that meant??
you let him complain all he wanted but you get annoyed the second he even ATTEMPTS to slander his looks (absolute blasphemy in your books!)
“my (insert body part) makes me look a littl-“ before he can even finish his sentence you cut him off.
“it makes you look too handsome. you’re right, don’t post he pics; i’m not ready to keep sharing my boyfriend with the world.” you’d say in the most seemingly serious tone??? (you were being 100% serious)
he dropped his phone onto the couch, no longer caring about the pictures and pulled you down onto him. the biggest smile on his face as though he won the lottery.
“it hurts how much i love you.” he’d say.
kim mingyu: also acts of service + words of affirmation
husband material gyu 100% loves getting taken care of after (also) having to cook and clean for/after his members who tease him relentlessly (pos i swear!!)
he’d come home sooo tired after a long day of filming content, all he wanted to do was sleep.
you’d be too busy to greet him at the door. in the kitchen, cooking him his favorite comfort meal for the night.
he comes in the kitchen, giving you a back hug as you finished up the last dash.
“i knew i smelled something delicious, my favorite person cooking my favorite meal.”
he attempts to give you a kiss but you had honestly felt stuffy from being in the kitchen so long and your face was kinda sweaty “ahhh gyu noo, at least let me shower first” you’d complain, letting him hug you but pulling your head away.
he’d pout but understand, backing up to give you your space. you’d turn around seeing him pout, God was it adorable but you stood your ground.
“also, the bed is already made and i have some comfortable clothes laid out for you once you’re done eating & your shower.”
he’d smile so lovingly like what did he do to deserve you??? and his heart grows even fonder once you said:
“tell me about your day over dinner, you’ve been doing so much and i’m super proud but i’ve missed you.”
if he worshipped anyone it would 100% be you. you were his knight in shining armoire especially after long days like this.
xu minghao: quality time + acts of service
you guys are adorably in love with each other i’m jealous! he paints you so much (+places you’ve been tg & etc) that he could practically open up a museum of his fondest memories of you.
you weren’t so bad at the art either so one day you decided to surprise him.
you didn’t even hear him once he came home.
“babe?” he’d call out in the cutest voice, looking for you. he needed to recharge and you are 100% his vitamin.
he’d find you in your office working on a painting of??? him??? if his heart could grow any bigger for you it just did.
“wow, i think i’m in love with you?” his voice would startle yo, pulling you out of your train of thoughts while painting.
“oh hey ming” is all you’d say with a timid smile before returning to your work.
“well, i’ll let you finish up” he’d but you almost get whiplash from how fast you turned around.
“no! i have some nido soup i made earlier in the pot. it should be still kinda warm. heat yourself some and pull up a chair next to me.”
(his heart just did a back flip btw)
he smiled ohhhh so beautifully yk that one smile he does when he’s looking at the members fondly? yeah that one ughhh :(
boo seungkwan: words of affirmation
boo is wayyyy more sensitive then he lets on. he needs all the love and support you have to offer because our boy works hard :(
since you can’t see each other often because of all his promotions, you had an idea! a very cheesy one but an idea nonetheless!
you had a heart shaped jar, on it you wrote “for me boo: seungkwan” . inside the jar were 100 exact folded sticky notes filled with things you absolutely adored about him.
small things from how cute he looked when he scrunched up his nose when he laughed to deeper things only the two of you spoke about on late night, reminders that you truly paid attention to him.
now a part of you was physically in pain from this but oh the moment you thought about how happy he would be you didn’t care how sappy it was.
you gave it to his manager to give it to him after one of his shoots. he opened it in the car, reading one was all it took for him to start balling.
he called you right after and immediately planned a date night, suddenly not being able to handle the absence of your presence ;(
(you found out he keeps these with him at all times whenever he needs a pick me up)
chwe vernon hansol: words of affirmation
like big time HELLO SHOWER HIM IN PRAISE FOR THE BEAUTIFUL BOY HE IS ??? (but also don’t overwhelm him!! be the smooooth ass mf ik u are!)
you guys are chilling on his couch, watching his newly released music video. his head on your lap as you played with his ear (which he’s absolutely smitten over but it’s hard for him to admit that)
his part comes up and your heart rate litch goes faster the moment he’s on the screen.
“you look really good in this shot.” you’d say, trying to keep your cool and collected composure.
“oh yeah?” he’d reply. no longer looking at the video but positioning himself to where he’s looking at you.
you continue talking, avoiding eye contact because you know you can’t handle the way he looks up at you with his pretty brown eyes through his long lashes.
“yeah. your voice and your style of rap is cool, it makes me want to constantly rewind just to see it again. i’m proud of all the work you do, i wish you could appreciate yourself the way i do you.”
and ohhhh my?? if you didn’t have his heart before (which you did) you CERTAINLY had it now!
if you picked him up, he’d probably be a pile of mush. to say your words had an effect on him was an understatement.
you as a whole rocked his world. undoubtedly.
lee chan: quality time + acts of service
you entered the practice room quietly, trying not to disturb the younger guy but he immediately turns around. a big smile on his face as soon as he sees you.
“baby, i missed you!” he’d say with the CUTEST face ever might i add???
you smiled and held up both your hands, takeout in one and drinks in the other.
“you’ve been copped up in here almost all day, i got you some stuff.” you’d say. he knew you weren’t trying to baby him although you were older, just worried that you boyfriend hasn’t fed himself properly today.
“i know i know, i have a new choreo i wanna learn for danceology”
you looked at him with fondness, he truly worked so hard. it was nothing but admirable.
“well then don’t mind me, i’ll sit over there” you pointed to in front of the mirror. you wanted a full view of him working his magic.
“you wanna watch me dance?” he’d ask all cutely (yk how when he was a question for one of the older members :(???)
you nodded, small smile on your face and he got sooo excited! he can do something he loves in front of the person he loves and then eat some food he loves???? triple win!

[a/n: he is the cutest ever i Want to bash my head into a wall also thank you so much if you read all i hope i destroyed ur view of parasocial relationships 🙂! stay safe & enjoy ur day/night!!!!! xoxo]
#svt writers#svt fluff#svt x reader#jinxedmuse#svt headcanons#scoups headcanons#jeonghan fluff#vernon svt#dk fluff#svt scenarios#svt x gender neutral reader#minghao fluff#jun svt fluff#seungkwan scenarios#seventeen drabbles#seventeen imagines#wonwoo fluff#svt joshua fluff#woozi fluff#svt fanfic#seventeen ot13#ot13 x reader#bf svt fluff#svt mingyu#kpop fluff
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Hi! I would like to request a oneshot with gender neutral reader x Ghost. If you don't mind non-sexual intimacy. I don't know if this is too OOC. They get to a new stepp on their relationship, but soon after reader disappears and he can't find them. A little angst-y?
Lateness of the Hour (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)
Summary: Simon wakes up a few hours after sex - the first time you had sex. But he doesn't find you beside him and fears for the worst settles in.
Content warnings: Simon's got hella self-doubt and trauma around sex, references to sex so minors DNI.
Masterlist
Ever the light sleeper, Simon started awake at an unknown hour and reached out for you to confirm the reason for his breech of slumber. An empty spot, starting to cool, guided his gaze over to the bathroom door. Bless you, you kept the light off so that you wouldn’t wake him. Simon contented himself to wait for you to come out, to wave your hands about like a zombie until you found your way back through the dark to his side.
He slipped out the covers and strode over the bathroom when a minute had passed. His consciousness was scolding him all the way because, in his drained state, he’d neglected to listen for what you were doing in the bathroom. Which was nothing, because you weren’t here.
A hunt through the flat began, Simon clearing each room with the probability of him retrieving the gun from its safe increasing in likelihood with each step. His dressing gown slowed his movements just a fraction. His lungs kept the same tempo but each inhale became more and more laboured.
The kitchen was barren, no sleepy partner hunting for a late night drink. Your shoes were all still by the door. Pyjamas had gone so you were clothed.
How, in all his battlefield wisdom and superior senses, he missed you the first time around, he didn’t know. But the split second he spied the bundle upon the couch, the lump buried beneath the throw pillows and blankets, he was upon his knees before them and parting the plushness until he found your sweet face.
As if you knew, you opened your eyes. You two stared at each other for a few rounds of breathing. Simon glanced down to see you’d put your pyjamas back on.
His silent question hung in the air like perfume: why are you out here?
“You were kicking in your sleep.”
You’ve put them off; they don't want you, flashed behind Simon’s eyes.
He blinked hard, his eyelids squeezing the thought out of his head like juice from a lemon. Sure, it’d taken over a year to get to this stage in your relationship but you weren’t that repulsed by him, were you?
“Sorry,” He offered you. Yet you shook your head, cheek rubbing against the pillow before you pushed to sit up and reply.
“Not your fault.”
You’d said the same thing to him the first time you’d tried taking a step towards intimacy last May. He’d frozen up then and he froze up now.
“I didn’t wanna wake you to tell you,” You added.
Another silent question plagued Simon’s mind, hiding in his throat, as irritating as a cough.
Leaning up, swaying as you did so as you weren’t yet free from the hooks of sleep, you kissed his cheek that was ploughed by acne scars and knife slashes.
“You want me to come back?” You mumbled.
Hand brushing over where your shoulder was hidden beneath the blankets, Simon stared directly in your eye, “Want you to get some rest.”
So you repeated, “Do you want me to come back to bed with you, Simon?”
God, he wished he had his mask to hide whatever expression was on his face that made it so easy for you to read him.
You were being respectful, giving him space if he wanted it. But Simon didn’t want that. No, he wanted you crushed against him until your bodies became one, his clay skin moulded into yours and spun and squashed and smoothed to vanish the creases that had defined you as two. Even if it meant bruising you like a peach as he lashed out during his sleep, he would wake up to cradle your pulpy remains and soak up all the goodness you’d give, because he would never get enough now that he’d finally had a taste of you.
He felt like a parasite.
“Yeah,” he admitted, at last.
Already, you were up out of your burrow and carrying the burden of the task back to your room. Simon followed, still guilt-ridden over disturbing you during your time of rest.
Perhaps he didn't deserve the feeling of the bedclothes sealing his body close beside yours in your bed. Then you patted the empty space between you - an invitation that he heartily, greedily, remorsefully accepted.
Like a weighted blanket, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head beneath your chin. His cropped hair bristled and his cool body, now free from its dressing gown, suckered itself to your skin. As you cradled your giant teddy, you soaked up his concerns over your sleep schedule with a resolute stare at the ceiling. Your hands warmed away the very notion that you were ever repulsed by him, his body, his history. And the way Simon clung to you and you to him, it made the vow to never leave this bed – to never leave each other – again.
______________________________________
AN: Thanks for this request! Sorry it got so long to get to, I've been settling into a new job. Let me know if you want another request, check out which characters/things I write for in the pinned post!
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost fanfic#simon riley fanfic#cod fanfic#cod x reader#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#my writing#wc: <1k#r: gn
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Little realization cus what the fuck
I take myself way to fucking seriously
And I think it comes from like a need for respect and for people to hear me out
But I think because of that
I can’t have funny
Or be silly
Or feel emotions
Because I don’t want people to think I’m weak
Or stupid
Or just some little girl
And like
I fucking hate the my presentation
Dictates how people treat me
And how my teachers talk to me
And how people interact with me
People don’t respect me because I’m a girl( well to them at least)
They don’t respect me because I’m a teen
They don’t respect me because of a lot of things
But I think it’s just made me stop letting myself be true at school
Because I need to be serious
And work hard
And follow rules
And I lowkey want to deface a bathroom until I get a fucking gender neutral one
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With you part 8
<-prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist
Summary: Marc is determined to fix everything
Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader (Jake Lockley x reader) Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings/notables: Angst, complicated relationship stuff, bit of fluff, cursing, crying. joke about taking painkillers/using food/coffee to cope. Mention of alcoholism, mention of Marc's past. Sex implied but nothing descriptive. No gender-specific language. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd
PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...
If there was anything in this world you wanted, it was for Marc to feel accepted and loved - every single part of him. That, of course, meant Steven, but now it meant Jake too. If Jake didn't want your love, you would have to accept that, but the fact that he seemed to think he didn't even have the right to exist outside his protective role - to ever talk or interact with who he called family, including his alters - it killed you.
That was the last thing you remembered before you passed out asleep on the bathroom floor.
Marc woke up to your alarm, blaring from your phone on the bedside table. Realizing you weren't in bed with him, he rolled over and shut off the annoying sound, then promptly plopped back down on his pillow.
With a huge yawn, he wondered why the hell he felt so tired, and then remembered: Jake. Who knew what he did with the body at night? For Khonshu and...well, maybe even with you.
He groaned, running his hands over his face. How could he actually feel this confusion and apprehension about a part of his own system? He never felt anything like this about Steven. But it was like he told you: he knew Steven. He didn't know Jake.
They had communicated a few times. Marc had even offered him a key, so that he didn't keep trying out acrobatics through the bedroom window.
It seemed important to you to know Jake, to include him, somehow, in all of this. He knew you were right. He was certain you even had feelings for Jake, or at least a pretty intense attraction. Damn him.
So Marc was trying. For you. And in a way, for himself. And he knew he should try for Jake too.
With a tired sigh, he climbed out of bed to visit the restroom, but noticed the door was closed. Deciding to give you a moment to do your own thing, he went to the kitchen to start some coffee. Remembering that Steven had class around an hour after your shift started, he also put on the kettle.
Several minutes passed with Marc completing everyday morning tasks, finishing the coffee and steeping some green tea, which he would choke down on Steven's behalf if needed. (it supposedly helped him concentrate?) On occasion, if Steven was dreadfully tired, Marc would be left to attend class, take furious notes and pretend to be interested in all of Steven's courses.
Realizing he still hadn't seen you, Marc made his way back to the bathroom and wrapped his knuckles on the door.
"Hey...I made you some coffee."
No answer.
Knocking again, he added, "You okay, sweetheart?"
Respecting that everyone needed some privacy sometimes, he gave you another minute or two. But he wasn't able to hear the shower or sink, nor could he decipher any sounds of you moving around, getting ready for your day. And this morning routine wasn't like you at all.
After another quick knock, he twisted the door knob; then realized the door wasn't locked. Calling your name, he pushed against the door...but it wouldn't open.
Panic zipped through his body as he shoved the door open, meeting resistance. His firm shove sent you tumbling over on the other side.
You had been dead asleep against the door, and now you were a tangle of Marc's hoodie, the bathroom rug and his frantic arms, which were all over you.
"Baby? Baby, what's the matter? What happened?"
"Marc?" You croaked. You felt awful. "Ow."
"Honey, are you hurt? Talk to me." His hands checked you over carefully, his eyes wild and worried.
"I'm...I fell asleep." You reached up to rub the crick in your neck, blinking your puffy, burning eyes.
Helping you ease into a sitting position, Marc grasped your shoulders, joining you on the floor.
"You slept in the bathroom? Why, baby - are you sick?"
Marc absolutely worshipped the ground you walked on, but even he had to admit - you looked terrible. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were dull and swollen, with dark circles beneath them. You neck was covered in a layer of sweat because you had apparently slept fully dressed, when you were used to sleeping in only his t-shirt.
Leaning your forehead against his chest, you sank into his arms, feeling a few new tears forming. You were so fucking relieved to see him.
Pulling you close, Marc rocked you gently, his heart thundering and his gut twisting with worry.
"It's okay...it's okay, honey," his voice trembled with concern. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen you like this. You were the steady one. He was the drama queen (according to Steven).
After shedding a few tears, you were desperate to get up off the floor, drink a gallon of water, 2 gallons of coffee and take like 17 painkillers.
"I'm not sick," you mumbled into his t-shirty chest. Finally sitting all the way up, you rubbed your eyes sleepily. "Just had a rough night."
Marc nodded, giving you a moment to explain. Meanwhile his brain was firing off a long list of terrible possibilities about how you ended up here. He was the one who had spent a ridiculous amount of time on the bathroom floor after spending the previous night in a bottle.
Surely you hadn't been drinking...
"Oh god - what time is it?" You climbed off the floor, shoving your hands inside your pockets to find your phone - which was still on the bedside table.
"Not sure," Marc said carefully, standing up to join you. "Your alarm went off about ten or fifteen minutes ago.”
"Shit, I'm gonna be late," you huffed, yanking off your layers of clothes, halfway tripping on them as you reached to turn on the shower.
"Hey...hey," Marc grasped your elbow, the way Jake was prone to do, bringing you to a standstill. Despite losing his mind with worry, he caressed your cheek tenderly. "What can I do? What do you need?"
You started to cry again, unable to believe your tears hadn't dried up yet.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Quickly releasing you, he gave you some space, fearing he was only upsetting you more.
"Could you make me a turkey sandwich?" You sniffled, wiping your nose with your sleeve. "And a really big travel mug of coffee?"
"Of course," he nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Need your scrubs out of the laundry basket?"
Your bottom lip trembled as you nodded right back.
Several minutes later, after the all-time quickest shower and morning routine, you found Marc in the kitchen.
"Ah, you smell much better," he teased, hoping a lame joke would maybe cheer you up just a tiny bit. When you paused, he figured he'd fucked up. Typical. He held up your lunch bag as a peace offering.
But you ignored it, sliding your arms around his body and burying your face in his chest. Setting the lunch bag back down carefully, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his nose in your hair. Pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he rubbed your back soothingly.
"Thank you," you murmured after a few quiet moments, peering up into his eyes. "You have no idea how much I needed you this morning. I love you so much."
He melted, grateful for the small measure of comfort he was able to give. And thankful that he was the one able to share it. "I love you too."
Reaching up with one hand, he traced the fullness of your bottom lip with his thumb. "You're sure you're feeling okay, sweetheart?"
Nodding, you leaned into his touch as he brushed his fingers over your cheek. "I'm just tired. I was up most of the night."
His jaw twitched, dark eyes flashing possessively. "With Jake?"
Your gaze dropped. You really didn't want to talk about it, especially since you were running late.
"You're upset, though, so...I'm thinking maybe...it didn't go well?" Desperately trying to piece together anything about last night, Marc assumed the two of you had not come to any kind of agreement - relational or physical. If you had, he figured you would be in a much better disposition. He felt sick over what could have upset you so badly.
He knew better than to ask if Jake hurt you, after you had made it abundantly clear that no part of the system would ever harm you in any way. Still...
"Did he...hurt you? Your feelings, I mean," Marc quickly clarified. "He-he made you feel like this?"
Shaking your head, you pulled away, reaching for your lunch and giant tumbler of coffee. "No," you finally answered, scooping up your bag. "I did."
It became abundantly clear when Steven got out of class because he blew up your phone with messages, a few of which included...
'Heard you had a rough go of it last night. Seems like someone was a right twit. (maybe it was the stupid pigeon) So sorry, love. Hope your day is aces.'
A half-hour later...
'Hate to bug you - just wanted to say how much I love you.'
And another.
'Don't worry about a thing tonight. Already placed an order for your favorite takeaway. It's important to rest, so I'll read to you if you like.'
And that's just what you did. Dinner was warm and ready as soon as you walked in the door and only an hour later, your head was in Steven's lap as he read French poetry to you.
"How could I be so lucky?" You whispered, drifting off to sleep.
The following morning, you were well-rested and much more yourself. Steven's pampering and loving attention definitely helped improve things as well. And you felt anxious and excited for him to do a repeat of that French poetry reading so you could do scandalous things right back to him.
Briefly wondering if your fiancé got enough rest or if Jake was out all night again, you decided that, on this particular day, you didn't give a damn.
(You actually did.)
Marc was expecting you to fill him in a little more on what had taken place to upset you so on bathroom-floor-night. But you didn't really say much at all, and that's how he knew it was bad.
Still, he couldn't complain when you pulled one of his classic moves and decided to use his body for a little stress relief.
He was innocently making your lunch, again, hoping it would cheer you up or at least make your day go smoothly. But halfway through slicing a tomato, you walked up to the counter, boldly took the knife out of his hand and pressed your mouth to his.
He was kind of oddly excited that you were kissing him while holding a sharp knife, but you quickly set it down.
"Good morning," he grinned, forgetting your lunch and wrapping you up for what he assumed was a delicious morning greeting.
It was more than that. Your hands pushed his t-shirt up his abdomen before yanking everything else down. Your hands flew all over him, caressing, stroking, tugging and making him lose his damn mind in the middle of the kitchen.
"Come on," you ordered, dragging him by the arm. He assumed you were headed to bed, but you didn't make it past the first oversized chair in the living room before you were on him. And you were not gentle.
"Need you," you gasped, even as your bodies were already joined.
He was so ready to give you anything you wanted - anything in the world to comfort you, to love you, or just worship your body. After all, being Marc, he felt responsible. For damn near everything.
For his past, for his drinking. For everything that had ever gone wrong in his childhood home. For Randall. For icing Steven out for years. For anything Jake said or did unbeknownst to him. For all the blood on his hands.
Hell, it was probably his fault that the Cubs couldn't win the World Series for a damn century. If there was blame to be assigned, Marc always assumed his name was at the top of the list.
So whatever he could do for you, he would try his damndest.
The two of you finished on the chair and moved to the shower because you had to get ready for work and also because you weren't done with him - not that he was complaining.
But as soon as you left for work, he found the nearest mirror and glared at his reflection.
"All right, assholes," he growled, leaning in as if he could magically summon his alters. "Let's fucking go. My fiancé(e) is devastated and we're going to fix it. Right fucking now."
After a minute of staring, he huffed and rolled his eyes. He knew perfectly well that this wasn't how it worked - he couldn't stare into a mirror and summon Jake like Bloody Mary or Candyman.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to remember any advice from his meetings or therapy sessions. Or from you. His patience didn't last long enough to be reasonable however, so he banged his fist on the mirror in annoyance, but not hard enough to break it.
"Steven? Jake? Come on," he huffed.
'Don't look at me, mate,' he heard Steven say. 'Got no clue. But I bet the stupid old bird's to blame.'
Fine then.
Squaring his shoulders, Marc felt ready to do fucking battle if he had to. Because, even though he didn't realize it, you were right. He was your hero. Drawing a deep breath, he called out,
"KHONSHU!"
@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @cicithemess2000
Dividers by saradika
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If u can, could u do showering with dekusquad?
I sure can my lovely, thank you so much for the request! I don’t write much for the Dekusquad so hopefully I don’t disappoint you x
DekuSquad: Showering with Them (Pt. 1)
DekuSquad x (Gender-neutral) reader
Characters: Midoriya and Todoroki
Warnings: Mentions of nudity and hints at spicer scenes, mental health struggles; insecurity and depression are very lightly touched on.
Description: Same as my Bakusquad showering thoughts, just with Dekusquad! Part two will feature Iida, Uraraka and Tsuyu :)
—————

Izuku believes that relationships are first and fore-mostly built on respect, and this extends to every aspect of your lives together.
Even before you were dating, his level of respect for you knew no bounds, to the point that you had to finally make the first move and ask HIM out.
He was too worried that asking you out would somehow demean the relationship or you.
In the bathroom, and bedroom for that matter, Midoriya clearly displays this inhuman level of courtesy.
Even if the door is open, eagerly inviting him in, he always ensures he knocks before entering the room. Once he does make it into your shared ensuite, if you’re nude or in the process of undressing, he refuses to let his eyes drift from yours without express permission.
You’d honestly be amazed by the amount of self-control he possess, considering Izuku’s reckless tendencies.
As a child, Inko used to always put your green haired lover in the bathtub to wash up. This was a habit he carried through to his adult life, favouring the warm embrace of the water surrounding him from all sides.
But Izuku’s hero career took a toll on him. And as he still learnt to get a handle on his quirk, your boyfriend coming home with a cast was not an uncommon sight.
Trying to navigate waterproof coverings for the plaster, and often being left to wash himself one handed, usually forced you both into the shower.
He saw how carefully you handled him when he was like that. Despite the event becoming less and less common the stronger he became, he couldn’t help but to feel guilty every time you sighed a long breath you thought he couldn’t hear.
In Izuku’s eyes, you were at your most natural state in the bathroom, both mentally and physically. He saw your walls come down as you let the spray of your shower embrace you, washing away some of your worry and his guilt.
Hearing the soft hum of the falling water became quite meditative to him. He would often sit in the next room and listen to you singing softly, healing yourself.
Izuku was your hero, he would always have your back, but he also knew there were some things he had to let you do yourself.
Midoriya didn’t really have a skincare routine, at least for his face. He was too busy trying to torture himself into being the next All Might to have a five step routine. But his wounds and injuries did regularly need tending to with any number of creams, ointments and bandages.
Perhaps out of remorse, or more likely another way to demonstrate his undying affection for you, your boyfriend would often slather you in these same products for even the tiniest of injuries you received.
A paper cut?! Oh no! He has to find the antibacterial wash, healing balm and themed bandaids immediately!
He acts like you could lose a finger, but it’s okay. Good thing you think his concern is adorable.
It would be safe to say that your ensuite was the heart of your home- it kept beating, kept repeating the same pattern, and kept you both running for each other.
He was there for you to lean on and curl into to forget the world entirely. And you were there for him to collapse into, allowing him to remember his safe haven was still a safe place.

Shoto strives to show you all five love languages each day, he could never be convinced that you don’t deserve the best of everything the world has to offer.
But try as he might, his love of gift giving quite often exceeds the other languages by some distance.
Although Shoto rejects his father, his money does come in handy when it comes to buying you all the expensive self-care products you add to your wish list, often accompanied by a longing sigh.
Little do you know.
What can he say? He loves to spoil you.
When it came to his own skincare routine, the young Todoroki was already quite rigid about this process before he met you. He had trialled product after product for years on end to aid the prolonged effects of his scar.
He had even toyed with the idea of cosmetic surgery at one point. Ultimately, you managed to convince him that his scar was something to display- a mark of his family’s impact on him, no matter how he may feel about them.
Similarly, you were very secure in the knowledge that if your boyfriend wanted your advice on the subject, he would absolutely ask for it. But in the meantime, you left him to his accumulated mix of products, knowing that if nothing else, it helped him come to terms with himself and the way things were.
Long-term Shoto chose to nurture the mark on his face, rather than to try and rid himself of it.
Now, you…
Shoto adores you entirely, with every fibre of his being. And in his mind, there is no better opportunity to worship you than in the bathroom.
He can’t help but to admire how far you’ve come and how comfortable you’ve grown to be in your skin- a journey you’ve both being on parallel to each other.
He glances around the room itself, inspired by how you’ve created the perfect sanctuary in a slice of the home you had both carved out for yourselves.
If you were ever confronted with this information, he knew you would adamantly deny it. Though he saw the growth.
He worships your beauty and the marks of your struggles and courage. He marvels at your history, his history, all bared out on your skin like a map back to the heart of the person he loved most.
Todoroki could admit that his ‘words of affirmation’ had been lacking lately. Perhaps he would present you with a bunch of your favourite flowers, and those words he so desperately wanted you to hear, carefully concealed in an envelope.
He would lead you to the shower, as was custom most nights. He would then gently kiss his reassurances and praise into every inch of your skin before he bundled you up in his arms, letting the world fade away as you became entangled beneath the mist.
In those moments, Shoto knew the meaning of heaven on earth.
—————
#bnha ao3#bnha bakusquad#bnha kirishima#bnha sero#denki kaminari#denki smut#poly kiribaku#bakusquad smut#hanta sero smut#kirishima smut#dekusquad#deku midoriya#deku x reader#midoriya x reader#bnha midoriya#midoriya x y/n#midoriya fluff#midoriya smut#deku fluff#deku smut#todoroki x reader#todoroki shouto#todoroki fluff#todoroki smut#shoto todoroki#shoto x reader#shoto x you#shoto smut#izuku midoria x reader#izuku headcanons
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