#idk i can never decided ugh

[kamaluhkhan]

i should be working on my thesis. i should be grading midterms. but instead? instead im thinking about whether i should do a vi x reader hunger games au or buffy the vampire slayer au or spiderverse au.

[vaguely-concerned]

I've written 5000 words of lucanis and rye fic the last two days and the only reason the wip isn't even longer yet is probably that my brain turns into useless ash and blows away for the day once it's channeled the lightning bolt of writing energy for a couple of hours and needs to sleep before it can stand up to another onslaught.

[sheila--e]

it was a small passing comment in the story but when its mentioned Sheila saw her dog get beaten to death when she was a kid and it made her feel like humankind was just like that (+ her sister's murder afterwards cementing that worldview)... augh.

[kimmkitsuragi]

i will be in a different country in one week and im sick (i got better!! but then i got worse again 💀) and i have millions of things to do everyday this week + so many trips/events already planned and paid the next week... this is seriously the weirdest week of my life

[neverendingford]

.

[sondersil]

fondly thinking about my best friend.

no idea how she's managed to stick it out with me this far but i'm amazed that after over 6 years she still has enough patience to tolerate me.

when i don't feel like i'm good enough, she reminds me of who i am. when i make mistakes, she doesn't treat me any different. when i'm highly dysphoric, she just /gets/ it and shows me unrelenting support and encouragement. she's my #1 hypeman, and i am hers.

there isn't another person in the world that's been able to make me feel even.. remotely okay in my own skin, about how i look and how a body feels (i would also say about who i am, but i'd be lying).

i realize that i've always had a bit of body dysmorphia and generally don't enjoy looking at my own face because it's.. very uncanny to me. i don't have a proper sense of style. but she always just?? has something nice to say and she does it so genuinely that you can actually believe that she means what she says. because she's the same.

i'll go out looking like a 12 year old boy and she's just. fucking. there for it. she'll cheer for it. do it with me. and then we'll walk around the block looking like two lil' dudebros together because we own the same clothes. and fucking hell.

this girl is too good to me. i absolutely don't deserve her.

sometimes it's hard to believe that someone like her exists.

and that i get to be witness to it.

there's caveats, of course. we talk so rarely (we go weeks without), the interests we share are few and far between and there's.. so many things i could never tell her because i will never get over that fear of losing her.

there is no right moment and there isn't a time and those are things i neither need nor want her to know, because it would change the way she sees me.

and i guess that seems callous and detached and dishonest.

but we are there when it matters. i am there when she needs me and i will always pick up her pieces.

i want her to have a good thing. she sees me as a good thing.

so i'll let her have me this way.

[ame-to-ame]

Life is weird as arospec asexual bc there's no good way to use words to describe what I feel and my experience that properly conveys it to allosexual alloromantic people

Even if I use vocabulary meant for this there's no way to grasp what it truly feels like, what the lived experience is like for me, because the allosexual doesn't experience it doesn't understand it

And so it's like trying to convey colors to someone with a different perception of color. They experience a reality different to mine. And maybe perception and sensation is the wrong allegory to use, even. Maybe the stimuli we experience is different in the first place. Maybe the sensation is different. But perception is definitely different. And it's hard to tell at which point do things start to differ.

But either way it's hard and I find it increasingly hard to explain myself or want to explain myself. It's so much easier to adopt that language and that culture aside from the gaping feeling that it's not exactly what you're experiencing. I can co-opt the term crush but what I feel. I know. Is not romantic attraction. Maybe some elements are the same but it's definitely diverged somewhere. But is there really a point in explaining the differences or clarifying that it's different? As long as the final goal is achieved does it really matter? Why am I doing this again.

[akascow]

flea bites are so gd annoying

[valandherweekofwonders]

i just want to stop feeling suicidal so constantly and i want to stop having my paranoia spirals and i want to have peaceful sleeps without night terrors and i want to feel safe in my body and in my own space and i want to eat and i want to not be so overwhelmed by my psychosis and i want to be over everything that kennedy did to me but i also really wish i could contact him again so i could deck him in the fucking face and then i call c and ask her what the fuck why the fuck did she do that and beg beg beg my family to leave the church that is so clearly harming them and dooming them to tragedies.... and so on...

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: wise likes you, and just about everyone on sixth street knows. ❀ ˎˊ- wise x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 1.3k ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: slightly ooc wise idk im still lvl 26 okay ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: thanks you stellaronhvnters for plaguing my mind w wise. anywho this my mini break from the series LMAO wise. i love you king.

Wise can hardly focus, and for once, it isn’t because of you.

Not that he minds being distracted by you - quite the opposite. He could spend hours just watching you talk and getting lost in your eyes, occasionally nodding or agreeing with whatever you were talking about the day. He liked hearing your voice; it was soothing like a cool river, especially after a grueling day.

But this time, it’s him who’s being stared at, and to his disappointment, the one burning holes into him isn’t you (although he severely doubts he could handle it if it were to be you).

No, instead, General Chop stares at him from the corner of his eye as he prepares other customers’ orders, a hint of knowing in his usual smile. Wise can see the excitement in the chef’s eyes, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why.

“Wise?”

He seizes up, bumping his chopsticks. He’s quick to fix himself as you shoot him a nervous, but questioning smile.

“Sorry, you were saying?” he says smoothly (at least he hopes it’s smooth, he still doesn’t know how to talk to pretty people), eager to move past his minor mishap.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you laugh. “I was just saying that you have a little something on your face.”

Wise feels his cheeks warm. “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me.”

He moves to grab some napkins, but you beat him to it. Wise swears something in him malfunctions when he turns and suddenly you’re all too close to him, your hand reached out to clean up his face.

“Wha- Wait, what’re you-” he sputters, nearly falling off his stool as he lurches back.

“Hey, stand still,” you scold, your slight annoyance only serving to speed up his heart rate because who in the world said it was okay for you to be this cute.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming from his head, with how fuzzy his mind feels. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but just sit there, dazed as you dab obliviously at the corner of his lip.

As you pull away, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, mentally thanking whatever deities reigned above that he hadn’t fainted on the spot. That would’ve been embarrassing; Belle would never let him live it down.

His face feels cooler - hopefully it isn’t so red anymore. By the time he’s able to think coherently again, you’ve started chatting again. Wise nods along (he has no idea what you’re talking about), and goes to slurp up some of his noodles when he sees General Chop again.

The chef, obviously holding back a cackle, grins encouragingly at him and flashes him a thumbs up in support. Wise internally groans. Would it be a bad idea if he drowned himself in his noodles right now?

And this isn’t the first time either - Wise is pretty sure the entirety of Sixth Street is aware of his… ugh, crush on you (saying it out loud both hurts him and makes him feel warm inside. Which is a terrible feeling. He wants to throw up).

Just last week, he’d seen you at the Coff Café, and Tin Man, being both a gracious cafe owner and a huge romantic, had decided that that day was a good day to have a 50% off deal specifically for pairs if they bought two or more items.

Wise hadn’t questioned it at first, since it was normal for shops to occasionally hold discounts like these to attract more customers. Even he was guilty of it, being a business co-owner himself.

But then you had to call him out in the line, excitedly waving him over as you were at the cashier ordering. Tin Man was behind you, a smile in his eyes that Wise wasn’t sure he liked, but he begrudgingly made his way over.

He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled as you explained the discount to him. They reminded him of the stars he’d see at twilight, when he couldn’t sleep and would climb to the roof just to watch New Eridu’s nightlife.

Naturally, he had accepted your offer of buying him a free drink (no one refuses free food), but he quickly learned to regret it when he saw the mischievous gleam in Tin Man’s artificial eyes.

He still gets flustered thinking of it now - the heart-shaped whipped cream and the whisper of “good luck” haunts him, especially when he thinks about how confused you were at the impromptu decoration.

The amount of times he’s caught his neighbors playing matchmaker, he can’t count on both hands - and that’s not including what Belle has tried. It’d be funny if it wasn’t also incredibly humiliating.

“Master, if you were planning on drifting off, perhaps you should’ve stayed home to take a nap.”

Wise sighs. “Be quiet, Fairy. I’m in public.”

“What?” you blink. Wise blinks back before realizing he’d been a little too loud.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” he chuckles awkwardly, hands fiddling with each other - it’s a nervous habit of his. You smile understandingly.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, pushing your bowl towards General Chop to signify you were done with it. “You’ve been out of it today, Wise. Something on your mind?”

You, Wise wants to say, but he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself further. “I guess I’m just tired. Long day today.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, the sound music to his ears. You hop off the stool after sliding your share of the payment to General Chop. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Wise’s heart does a little tap dance at your offer, but he manages to keep his cool. He hastily pays General Chop before eagerly joining you in your short walk to Random Play.

“Bro!” Belle greets him enthusiastically as he opens the door. Her eyes light up when she sees you, and she raises her eyebrows suggestively at her brother. Wise shoots her a glare when you aren’t looking. “[Name], too? How was your da- mmghhifjk-”

Wise smiles innocently as he slaps a hand over Belle’s mouth. You can’t help but laugh at the two, and Wise admires the crinkle the corners of your eyes.

“Ignore her,” he says nonchalantly, wrinkling his nose as Belle licks his hand like the little rat she is. “Do you want to come in, or…?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands bashfully. “It’s getting late, so I should be getting back home.”

Wise nods in understanding. Belle pries herself free and he wipes his spit-covered hand on her sleeve, ignoring her sputters and protests (she chose this path. She will reap its consequences).

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

You nod, shifting your feet. “I guess it is.”

Wise’s brows furrow at your behavior - what’s on your mind. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long before his inquiry is answered.

You take a step forward, and Wise feels your arms loop around him in a tight hug. Suddenly, his senses are elevated, and it’s almost as if everything is enhanced tenfold. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sound of your breath, your hair tickling his face and the heat that radiates off of your body against him.

“I really enjoyed today,” you say, stepping back with a smile that could rival an angel’s. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

Wise tries to formulate a response, but all that comes out is a squeak like a dying balloon. God, if his face was red before, it must be flaming now. You giggle at his response, before you wave both him and Belle goodbye and leave for your home.

It takes a good five minutes before he can speak again.

“Hey sis?”

Belle sounds as shocked as him. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

He hears his sister sigh.

“Wise, you’re helpless, you know that?” she shakes her head exasperatingly. “And just when you finally made progress too.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[starreo]

pro hero! katsuki bakugo drabble .

being icky has never been hotter. includes insecurity on katsuki's side, fem! reader p in v in the last paragraph lol, and adult themes, so mdni!!

when he's just started dating you, katsuki feels so scared of holding your hand. he feels that if the sweat is icky to him, then it'll be icky to you. and for all katsuki is, he will never want you, out of everyone to think he's 'icky'.

so he shoves them in his deep pockets, trying to wipe off the sweat, hoping, maybe by the end of the date, he might be able to. but it doesn't help. the silk pockets make it worse and his hands are sweatier than before. so he just decides to grab you by your waist as he leads you back to your door.

that night katsuki goes home, happy about your present, but nervous about your future. what if he holds your hand on the next date? and what if you hate how wet it feels. what if he can just never touch you?

however, all of the silly questions in his silly head crumble, when you pout and complain about how the winter dries up your hands so much. and as he's about to make some comment, to mask up his insecurity, you grab his hands in yours. sheepishly murmuring about how he's so lucky to have a natural moisturizer, which keeps his hands so soft all the goddamn while!

and his breath hitches, and his heart beats louder.

ever since then, katsuki makes sure to hold your hand no matter what the two of you are doing. and each time he reaches out to grab it, he smiles, at his past self, who was worrying so much.

because now he doesn't just get to hold your hand out on dates to help you cross the road. he holds your hand on the table, when the two of you are eating at a fancy restaurant. he holds your hand in front of your family, grinning as your parents tease him about not being able to keep his hands off of you.

he holds your hand against the pillows, when his cock is buried deep inside your snug walls. intertwining his fingers with yours as he thrusts in and out of you, slow, but deep. his other hand caressing your bottom lip, as his finger hooks the corner of your gasping mouth, drool slipping out of it. katsuki chuckles as his fingers make contact with the sticky substance, who knew being icky could be this hot?

i come back and this is the first thing i write???? ALSO lolll all the confidence that i had at first about writing longer stuff flew away like a seagull with a bag of cheetos. idk why but recently I've been so obsessed with mha again.....ugh.

© starreo 2024. do not copy, translate or repost .

[hemi-demi]

Sorry, having sad Martin thoughts again.

So there's this particular scene from episode 144. I for some reason forgot this happened in my first two listens (how, idk. S4 makes me feel a lot), then caught it on my third.

This is the second time we hear Daisy coming to talk to Martin in his office while he's working for Peter.

Cold AF. Hurts like hell to hear. You can understand his distrust of her, she tried to kill Jon, threatened to pin him with the murder of Jurgen, and Jon almost died again saving her from the coffin. All that tracks.

But that's not what's happening here. Because this follows immediately after:

Daisy kept coming around the office, getting friendly. Martin knew Peter was around and, if he saw anyone constantly hindering his progress of becoming a part of the Lonely, would have sent her right to it.

But he couldn't just be nice, or didn't feel like he could. Can't give a proper warning when Peter could be anywhere, and if he's too light a touch, she might see it as a call for help and keep hanging around.

So he does the only thing he can, tells her to piss off. It works. He's more lonely than ever, severing yet another connection he was even starting to form again, but she's safe from Peter now.

Which, I have to reiterate, he could have just let Peter deal with her. He is probably harboring a lot of jealousy for Daisy right now. He can't be anywhere near Jon, but now suddenly Jon and Daisy are spending time licking their wounds and listening to the Archers. And Martin is a pretty petty person. He could have kept her talking until Peter got bored and sent her away. Job done.

But he didn't. He readily admits to not really liking anyone here, and not believing anyone likes him either, but he's still trying to keep people safe. Not just Daisy – the entire institute

He's been single handedly keeping half the Institute from being vanished into the Lonely. And he does it because of Jon.

He doesn't like Daisy, but Jon does. Jon nearly died saving her. Jon did die attempting to save everyone. So when Jon didn't wake up from his coma, even though Martin was falling into his own despair, he decided to make the best of whatever life was left in him to honor Jon's memory and keep the others safe.

And there's just something about Daisy in particular being the one to reach out to Martin, as well. She knows what it looks like when you start to give yourself to the Fears. She tried to throw out a life preserver, but if Martin took it, it could have dragged her down too. Or at least, it's how he felt (depression will do that to you. You're not worth saving, and if anyone attempts to do so, then they'll only get hurt, so why even bother asking for help?)

Yet another "I don't know how to end this ramble", but just – ugh. This man hurts me. I will never be okay about this goddamn show.

[yesimwriting]

OKAY idk if you keep taking thoughts but this IS the dynamic I had thought for Felix since DAY ONE, so of course I need more best friend!felix and maybe this one is a typical one but...

The jealousy??? like this man is very facial and expressive and protective, especially towards the reader.... so I thought about him watching any of his friends flirting with them? And maybe also being way too touchy? You can decide if reader is comfortable in all that or not (I think she wouldn't), but having him like trying not to be a dick but also like needing to, like they're my best friend shush so yeah, I'd love it if you could write something like that! thankss

a/n omg that one scene in saltburn where felix is like 'you're my friend,, you're supposed to be here with me' yeah i knew immediately

----

"Sorry, darling." Despite the soft, almost far off cadence of Farleigh's voice, his words manage to cut through the atmosphere of the party. He leans forward, handing off his half finished joint to the girl standing next to you. "This stuff's heavy, and I don't need Felix on me tonight."

You frown. His denial doesn't get to you as much as the way he's framing it. Like you're a child that needs to be looked after. Like you're Felix's property.

If you weren't already a few drinks in, you'd dismiss Farleigh's words with an eye roll. The buzz burning in your veins latches onto that pinch of irritation. The full sounding giggle that comes from the nameless girl by your side only amplifies the feeling. "I don't do everything Felix says."

"No," he agrees, "You do just enough to be a good, little pet." You cross your arms in front of your chest, tilting your head to better glare at him.

The feel of something touching your shoulder cracks the tension. Your head turns. Felix. Despite your annoyance, Felix's sudden appearance at your side has you easing. He leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek near the corner of your mouth. "I was looking for you."

You smile, placing your hand over the one Felix still has on your shoulder. "You seemed busy, decided to take a lap."

He brushes his thumb against your shoulder. "Never too busy for you, darling." Felix has a way of making things that should feel just polite sound genuine. "How're you doing?"

"Farleigh's being mean."

"Didn't let her smoke." Farleigh explains flatly, taking the joint back from the girl. "After the way you reacted last time, it wasn't worth it."

Felix squeezes your arm. "That true?" You're not given a chance to respond. "You know how you get. Especially after drinking." You blink at him, eyes wide and lips pressed together. "Don't give me that look." It's too gentle to be a scolding. "We can smoke when you're sober, if you want."

You're not one to crave getting high too often. There's a sluggishness to it that you have to be in a certain mood for. But something about smoking with Felix, in his room with the window open and the two of you lounging like the only things that matter are what's within arm's reach, is unbelievably soothing.

Even in your current state, you're fully aware of the fact that you're getting the better end of the deal. But with Farleigh's smug comment and that random girl that laughed still paying attention, you don't feel comfortable agreeing in front of everyone.

"You're looking for an excuse to argue." Ugh. The way he reads you is almost eerie. You press your lips together to keep from giggling, watching him carefully. You shake your head, a flimsy attempt at denial. "Yes." Felix leans closer, grinning. He drapes an arm around your back, pulling you against his chest. " I can see it in your eyes."

"My eyes are innocent."

His freehand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to better look you in the eye. He's focused, exuding more concentration than the moment warrants. That's the thing about Felix, crowded room or empty dorm, it doesn't matter. He has a talent for making anyone feel like the only person in the world.

"Hm," he hums, "You pass." Despite coming to a conclusion, he makes no effort to move away from you. "Want to get another drink?"

You nod, "Yeah."

"C'mon, then." He drops one arm, waving a halfhearted goodbye to Farleigh before guiding you forward.

Felix keeps an arm around your shoulders as you maneuver through the chaos of the party. It's instinct to accept his lead, a part of you more glad for it than usual. You're starting to feel fuzzy, and with Felix guiding you, it's safer to accept the sensation.

"Oh my god!" A squeal and then your name.

You turn your head, eyes landing on a familiar face from your lit class. "Daphne!" She's a newer friend that you mainly know from exchanging lecture notes and working on essays together. A part of you is surprised to see her here, but you guess you shouldn't be. Now that you're thinking about it, you feel like you've seen her around Felix's friends before. "Hey."

Daphne approaches you with a wide grin. "I didn't know you were here." She then glances to Felix, and then Felix's arm, and then back to Felix. "Hi, Felix."

If he notices Daphne's curious scrutiny, he gives no indication of it. "Hi, Daphne," he greets, confirming that they do run in the same circles.

She smiles politely before turning her attention back to you, "It's been a minute since I've seen you." Daphne tosses a glossy strand of hair over her shoulder. "We need to catch up, I found out the best thing about the girl that sits in the front row that always tells everyone her grades."

"Bragger girl? She's the worst."

"Oh, you have no idea."

Felix squeezes your arm, turning your attention back towards him. "I'll get you your drink, you catch up with your friend." You beam at him as his arm gently moves off your shoulder.

As soon as he's disappeared into the crowd, Daphne gasps, "Oh my god, whatever's going on there is better than my bragger girl story."

You blink. "What?" Confusion and Felix's absence make you feel slightly off balance. It takes you a moment to catch up. "Oh, Felix? We're friend." Daphne presses her lips together, the look she's giving you not entirely convinced. "C'mon, tell me about bragger girl."

"Okay." Daphne gestures to an empty coach that's been pushed against a wall. "Let's sit?"

The two of you make it to the edge of the room. Daphne's not shy about taking up space, letting her long legs extend into the start of where people might walk. She trusts the world to move for her. It hits you then that your friendship with Daphne, like your relationships with a lot of people you've been spending time with recently, doesn't make make sense on paper.

You sit, grateful for the chance to lean against something sturdy.

"Alright," Daphne starts, angling her body towards you, "Bragger girl--never's gotten an imperfect score girl--" She cuts herself off with a soft, tipsy giggle. "Is hooking up with the TA."

Oh, you're fully hooked. "What?" Daphne nods, expression satisfied. "No way." There's no way to prove the connection between that girl always managing to beat your scores by a few points and any of her personal relationships, but come on. "Wait--with--with which one--the tall one or--or the one with the--" You're too out of it to recall a good descriptor, "Hair."

Daphne laughs again, "Hair?" You shrug at her. "Doesn't matter how little sense that makes, because that's the--the best part of the story." You nod, urging her. "She's hooking up with both of them."

You gasp. Oh my god, you cannot wait for Felix to get back so you can reiterate every detail of this. "Really?" Daphne giggles, nodding her head. "How do you know?"

"Okay," she crosses her legs, "So, I was at this ba--"

"Hey, Daphne," the voice is low and clumsy, over extending the second half of Daphne's name. Daphne looks up in time to see a guy sit on the couch's cushioned arm. "Who's your friend?"

Daphne throws you an apologetic look before turning back to the stranger. "Hi, John." She then introduces the two of you politely, presenting you as a friend from her intro to western lit class and John as someone from her econ class.

John doesn't even attempt to hide the fact that he's looking you over. You're not sure if it's the slightly glazed over quality to his eyes or his lack of shame gets to you. All you know is that some instinct tells you to be wary.

He tries your name on his lips, slurring slightly. "Why've I never seen you around?"

"Oh, I don't know," you try, tone much more sober than it was a moment ago, "I'm around, I guess. Here and there."

It's not your best small talk, but the only part of you that seems to be clinging to sobriety doesn't feel right. He's friends with Daphne, you tell yourself, you have no reason to believe he has bad intentions just because seems like he's had too much of whatever he's been having tonight.

John laughs, like your words were some obscure joke that he wants you to know he decoded. "So what do you do when you're not getting out?" He angles himself towards you, disregarding Daphne entirely. "I'm having a hard time picturing you in a library."

It's almost ironic enough to get you to laugh. John sees you here, he sees how you're dressed, and who you're with and just assumes that this is your regular state. And while there's nothing wrong with being the party girl type (some of your favorite people are that kind of person), it's just not who you are every night of the week.

"Actually, John," Daphne interjects, "She's really smart, like basically certified genius smart." You throw her a not so subtle look that says you feel like she's exaggerating. "What? I said basically." You don't look like you agree, "C'mon, even Dr. Alvero's said it, and he can't stand anyone."

"Really?" John moves to stand. "Dr. Alvero. His class is bloody murder." He takes a step towards you. "Maybe you could help me study sometime." You're too aware of the length of your dress, of your legs. "I'd pay you for your time."

There's something about the way he tacks on the reference to finances, an implication that burrows beneath your skin. That's the worst part of Oxford's elite, they assume that if you don't run in the same circles...that if you don't come from generational money, you have nothing. That you're in a position to bend to their every whim for what they consider petty cash.

"John," Daphne tries, voice hard.

"What?" John takes another step forward. "I said I'd pay her."

Indignance and nerves bond uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. As much as you want to tell him off, the way he's looking at you leaves you frozen, and it's not like the two of you are in a private area. You don't want to be labeled as a hysterical drunk.

"Sweetheart." Felix is within reach.

You turn your head instinctually. He's less than a foot from the couch, holding a solo cup. Despite directly addressing you, Felix's attention is fully focused on John, who seems to have finally remembered the concept of personal space.

Felix walks past him without a second glance before sitting next to you. It's a squeeze, Felix's knee pressing into yours. "They ran out of cups, so I thought we could share." Felix extends his arm slightly, gesturing to his drink. "Have some."

You lift a hand to reach for the cup, but Felix shifts before you can actually attempt to take it. Confusion has you dropping your hand back to your lap. You don't get where he's going with this until he gently tilts the cup in a silent question. You nod.

Felix brings the drink to your lips, gently tilting the cup until its contents are down your throat. The alcohol burns slightly, but not overbearingly so, and the flavor is familiar. Your favorite drink.

He pulls the cup away, a drop of liquid sliding down the corner of your mouth. Felix's thumb wipes it away before it can reach your chin. He then brings his still damp thumb towards his mouth to clean it.

Heat roots itself in your chest and crawls up your neck. All of your discomfort, all of your worry from before feels far and abstract until Felix asks, "So, who's your friend?"

"Oh, uh--this is Daphne's friend, John."

Daphne nods, leaning forward to join your conversation, "Yeah, I know him from my econ class."

"Yeah, good to finally meet you, man. " Felix finally looks back at John. "I think my step-mother's friends with your mum."

Felix places an arm against the back of the couch, giving you space to relax against his side. A more sober you would have thought twice about giving in so quickly, but you're starting to feel light again. "Uh--Cindy Marin."

"Right!" John exhales, relieved, "Right."

Felix nods once before turning his attention back to you. "You ready to get out of here?" There's an assuredness in the way he asks the question that makes it seem like there's nothing of value left at a party that hasn't at all since he sat down. You nod. Felix leans towards you so that he can better look over your shoulder. "See you around, Daphne."

"Yeah, see you."

Felix gets up, immediately stealing the warmth and comfort he'd been providing while next to you. Something that you only very minorly resent him for. He offers you his hand as you stand, and that makes up for most of it.

You turn your head to say goodbye to Daphne. Now that Felix isn't looking, she grins at you before mouthing: that was hot.

You roll your eyes, hoping your feigned irritation is enough to cover any signs of being flustered. Especially when Felix pulls an arm around your shoulders.

"Bye, John," he mumbles, "Congratulate your step-mum for me, yeah?"

Felix guides you out of the party. Once the two of you are exposed to the cool, night air, Felix lets go of you. There's a stiffness to his release that gets to you.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes.

"Can I?" Your voice is smaller than you thought it'd be.

Felix pauses, thinking through your request before handing you the box. You smile as Felix leans towards you. You don't smoke--with the exception of an occasional drag from one of Felix's cigarettes--but you like lighting them for him.

You pull one from the box and place it between his parted lips. He hands you his lighter next. You spark it to life, bringing the flame to the cigarette's end. Felix takes a deep breath, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling. He doesn't attempt to take your hand or place an arm around you again.

"Are you--" You're not even sure how to word it, "...Okay?"

He takes the cigarette between two fingers as he breathes out. "Fine." Felix inhales another drag. "Just didn't love the way that guy talked to you."

"If it helps, neither did I."

Felix glances over at you, eyebrows pulling together. "Then it's a good thing your best friend was there."

You roll your eyes fondly, fighting a grin, "You're always a good thing."

He looks down, his fingers brush against yours. You intertwine them, pulling his palm against yours. "Someone loves me."

You attempt to glare at him, but the look feels too sickeningly fond to come off as menacing. "Don't start."

His smile broadens. He squeezes your hand, thumb brushing against your knuckles. "Want to stay over tonight?"

"Yeah." You grin, body subconsciously leaning against his a little more. "Are you tired?"

Felix eyes you with exaggerated skepticism, "Why?"

"Wanted to know if you were in the mood to read to me tonight."

He smiles, angling his head to press a kiss against the top of your head. "Anything you want, lovie."

----

felix: oh my god,, i can't believe people treat you like that!! maybe you should borrow my last name for a little, just so that they leave you alone

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains

[peachsukii]

Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-

Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭

but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-

Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-

Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!

I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨

Substitute Gear

『 ♡』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.

“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.

“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”

As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.

“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.

“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”

You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.

“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.

Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.

───

After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.

“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.

“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.

The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.

“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”

Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?

The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.

“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."

He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?

"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.

"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"

"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."

"No, dumbass! C'mere!"

You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.

"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."

That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.

You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."

Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."

He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.

───

The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.

"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"

You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."

The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.

Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"

Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.

The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"

When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.

"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."

thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨

[tranceinnumerabletabs]

When Johnny Comes Back pt7

Howdy! I'm really proud of this one! Please enjoy! it gets funny

idk if you wanted to be tagged in this one too but, @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and of course @beelzebee

I think I should get those tumblr dividers. Also, sorry if you can't understand everything that's said here. You'll know it when you get to it. Its not the end btw.

part1, part2, part3, part4, part5, part6

It’s a quiet night once more, this time you’re in bed, unable to sleep.

It’s been too long. He’s gone. Shot by some guy. Just like in your nightmares

You sigh and look at your clock, 1:26 AM.

ugh

You get up, your cat waking up due to it, and decide to just….pace

You do just that, trying to find reason within your rhyme. You feed makes thudding noises on the cold hard ground.

thud thud thud thud

he’ll be fine

Thud thud thud thud

he’s just recovering

Thud thud

he’s gone

Thud

no he’s not

Thud thud thud

you’ll never be able to see him again

Thud thud thud

you’ll never tell him I love you

Thud thud thud

there’s no more Mactavish finesse

Thud thud thud

he’s reduced to ashes in an urn like in your nightmares

Thud thud drip thud

you look down and realize that a tear has fallen from your face.

sigh

you told yourself that you wouldn’t end up like this. If he’s alive then this is for nothing and if he’s dead….well…then this was just added misery.

You go to the bathroom and wash your face, sniffling a little.

he’s fine

You stare at your face in the mirror, blood rushed to your nose and cheeks, puffy eyed. You didn’t look so good.

You looked tired. You’ve been holding yourself up well right?

Yeah…

Yeah you are!

You could’ve been so much worse but you held up. Even if your eyes look tired and the steady drip of water from your face to the sink makes it unclear whether or not your crying. You weren’t. you’re fine

Ugh. This is why you try not to think of him! You feel so stupid and naive and sensitive and lost and-

“mrow?”

You feel Simon brush up against your leg, stopping your train wreck of thoughts. You smile, he’s so cute no matter how grumpy he is.

“Simon” you say fondly. You lean down and pick him up into your arms, swaying him like a baby as you walk out the bathroom.

Simon’s presence helped but it can only do so much.

You rock him, pet him and scratch him as you continue to pace.

Thud thud thud

you’re so cute Simon

Thud thud thud

you’re precious

Thud thud thud

you know Johnny will come back right?

Thud click thud

you know you’re a little bastard?

Thud thud thud

yeah you know you are? A bastard just like-…..

Thud Creak thud

like….

Thud stomp thud stomp

like……

thud Stomp Thud

.

“Honey, I’m home!”

.

.

.

.

You stand there, eyes wide in shock.

“Johnny?” You whisper but it was too low for even yourself to hear.

“Aye Bonnie, ye miss me?”

Your legs felt frozen as you look at him. A bandage around his head and a few new scars onto him to show off. His bag in one hand.

“What’s wrong lassie? Ye look like ye’ve seen the dead came back tae life” he teases gently, but in a tone that indicates that he missed you.

he’s here

Johnny Came Back

You feel tears pricking your eyes, but he didn’t notice. He drops his bag down and starts walking towards you. Ready to spend his return the same way he usually spends it: watching a movie with an engorgement of take out and smothering you.

“Johnny” you whisper a little louder

Johnny smiles “the one and only. Couldn’t have ye sell my urn to the damn Brits” He chuckled

“Johnny” you whisper once again and this time he catches the weight of your tone and becomes more solemn and sincere. “Aye….it’s me Bonnie….it’s me. I’m home” Your breath hitches and your hand slowly raises to cup his jaw, feeling his overgrown facial hair. He couldn’t shave it to his preferred length.

He drops his head’s weight into your hand, rubbing his cheek into your soft palm, looking softly into your eyes with a smile.

“Johnny” you voice now breaks and your breathing audibly hitches, tears welling in your eyes.

Johnny's eyes widen in shock, as if that was somehow an unexpected reaction.

“Bonnie?”

He tries to comfort you. Tries to think of something to say

“Bonnie I-“

“I thought you were dead Johnny!” You break out.

Johnny looked more shocked. Did you get the wrong information? Or did you just assume the worst?

“No, I-“

“I thought I’d never see you again!” You cry, your shoulders shaking. He looked guilty, he opens his mouth to try to apologize but you do what you should’ve spent he moment he showed his handsome ugly mug. You hug him, tightly. Almost too tight for the worn soldier.

Johnny is startled for a moment before reciprocating, hugging you back with fervor. You wet his shirt with your tears “I thought you were gone Johnny!” You cry, shaking in his arms. “No no lassie don’t cry” he rubs your back as you take lungfuls of his scent, finally being able to breathe it in again after it faded from your home.

He rocks you slightly as you take him all in and muffle all your grievances into his shirt. Eventually he grabs your face and stares into your eyes, his face seeming so tired and pained. Your heart clenches. You should care more about how he’s feeling.

“I’m tae sorry fer words honey, I didn’t think tae tell someone tell ye I’m fine. I just, had a rough time in the hospital an-“

You hug him again “sit down you lug. You need to rest” you gently guide him to his spot on the couch, where he belongs

“How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” You gently ask, cupping his face with both hands and looking at his injury.

He smiles and seemed to relax more that he’s done in a while. He places his rough calloused hands on yours and closes his eyes.

“Aye Bonnie lass, ye could kiss it better” he chuckles, feeling up your hands.

.

.

.

.

he’s had a rough time. Maybe he just needs any form of affection after being hospitalized for so long

You lean in up to his temple where the bandages are and place the most gentle and delicate of kisses on it. Johnny’s breath hitches, you don’t usually kiss him why would you? You’re just friends right?

You wanted to tell him you’re in love with him, or that you wanted him and no one else. But….no. not now, he just came back and…if it’s not reciprocal you don’t want him to deal with that right now. This should be all about him and not you. No, now all you wanted was to make sure that your roommate was okay. That can….come later. If you were willing to risk it. What’s most important is that he’s here and you take care of him. Not your feelings. “Miss me that much Bonnie? I should get shot more often. Then I could get another kiss” He tries to tease but the look on your face was enough to drop the jokes. He becomes more somber, his hands on yours now stroking your forearms. He looks into your eyes, sincerity evident “I missed ye too lassie, didn’t think tae tell ye cuz I dinae think I’d be gone fer so long. Glad to hear I was missed. Nice shirt” he says but it wasn’t the usual teasing tone he had. You look down and sure enough, you’re wearing one of Soap’s shirts as pjs, his scent long done from it. You smile, sniffling a little “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried Johnny….”

“Aye, I could tell……ye dinae need to worry Bonnie lass, I’m a big strong man”

You huffed a laugh as he rubbed your eyes “Don’t be sad….your big bad sergeant is here.” You lay on top of him, face to neck, just….taking in his presence. He does the same, scratching your scalp, rubbing your back.

He’s back

Johnny came back

Johnny came home

.

.

.

.

After some time, he piped up

“Let’s watch a movie aye? I’m starvin.”

You chuckle, a much lighter and freer laugh than the ones you’ve been making for months. Free from your worries about Johnny

“Of course Johnny. I’ll order you take out”

You kiss his nose. He gives you that signature smile of his.

“Yer spoilin me, love”

“Don’t you forget it”

"how could I ever?"

____________________

It felt so good going back to an old routine. Your movements were unfamiliar and rusty as you sit and eat take out with Johnny at 2:17 AM while a movie was on. He already finished 2 meals but the soldier was still going at it like the dog he was.

“Better than any hospital slop I tells ye!”

You smile, softer and fonder than Johnny remembers, and settle in the routine you remember you had before he left. A blanket tossed over both of you legs, an arm wrapped around some part of you. This time it was around your neck while he ate, a bit awkward but you were not about to complain. He was back and that was all that mattered. He finished up his feast and went back to watching some silly movie based on a tumblr post.

It’s about a random Asian kid whose plane goes down somewhere in Scotland, and he learns traditional Scottish kickboxing. The wise old mentor speaks with an indecipherable Highland accent, Johnny somehow understands and translates for you, and spends the whole film in a full kilt for no particular reason. He goes back to China to reclaim his parent's company made in the style of those "mediocre white boy learns the secrets of ancient martial arts" movies. It’s a funny concept and a movie you’ve been wanting to watch for months but didn’t because….well….Johnny wasn’t here. You couldn’t watch this without him.

And you’re so glad you didn’t because now as Johnny has his warm arm wrapped around you, gentler than usual due to his injuries on his arm. His mouth is near your ear as he ‘translates’ English to English. It doesn’t really matter what he was saying. All that mattered is hearing his raspy deep voice reverberating in your ear. Usually you’d tell yourself you could drag yourself to bed after the movie but you knew couldn’t drag yourself to bed after all this. You wanted to fall asleep on this couch with him. But just before you resigned yourself to that wonderful fate, you remember something.

“Are you going to sleep here Johnny?” You asked

“Aye, can’t anger the sleeping tiger. I won’t move an inch wee Bonnie don’t ye worry”

You sit up and look at him while the movie was Montaging with terrible bagpipe music “No. You need to rest on an actual bed. You’re still recovering”

“Ye dinae need tae worry aboot me love. I’m fi-“

“Johnny.” You say sternly “you’ve been shot in the head don’t BS me now after all that” your voice cracked a bit when you mentioned his terrible injury.

Johnny sighs and smiles “I could get used tae being babied like this”

His tone was teasing but somehow you had a feeling he did wanted to be babied, to be treated and spoken to gently in a way he couldn’t get in a military setting.

You sigh and smile. “One movie okay? Then I’ll run you a bath, rub your back, maybe change your bandages and scratch your hair till you fall asleep in a bed sound good Johnny?” His eyes were enticed but he just had to be a goofy little guy doesn’t he?

“Cannae read me a bedtime story?” He teased. You giggled and nodded. You had a feeling he just wanted to hear your voice “I’ll tell you the story of the ugly duckling. I’m sure you’ll relate” you joke back

“Aye, sing me a lullaby too?”

“You motherfucking bastard.” You roll your eyes with a smile “yeah I’ll sing you a song about how John and Jill when up the hill to fetch a pail of whisky. John fell down and broke his crown and Jill couldn’t see him for months while he was in the hospital.”

“Dinae my fault Bonnie!”

“I know baby I know” you coo, calling him a baby but Soap seemed to be very happy being called that.

“As soon as the movie’s over I’ll show my baby just how much I missed him. Wake me up if I sleep okay? If you don’t you’ll never get that bedtime story ye hear?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Good boy”

You lay back down next to him, continuing to watch the silly movie, the Chinese kid is somehow the chosen one from some ancient Scottish texts made when during some important historical British-Scottish conflict. How did they seriously think that a dizi (bamboo flute) mixed with a bagpipe would make a good soundtrack? And how are they right?

Whatever, it’s not like you were paying much attention when Johnny was stroking your arm right next to you, leaning in and rubbing his scratchy chin against yours, murmuring comments and ‘translations’ that may not even be that accurate. God you missed him. The movie ends with a Scottish themed “Kung Fu fighter” esque credits song.

He automatically hums something about putting on another movie. “Johnny it’s like 3 and a half in the morning”

“Dinnae care Bonnie. Missed ye”

“C’mon Johnny, I’ll tuck you in bed” you tease He grips you tighter into him “I’m tucked in enough like this”

You smile, wide and so happy.

“C’mon Johnny” you whisper into his ear, scratching his scalp, careful to avoid the injury “those clothes can’t be comfortable. Let’s change into something nicer hmm?”

He sighs contently “only if ye keep that up Bonnie…..feels like heaven”

“Deal”

You leave him to turn on the bath faucet, making sure it’s the right temperature before going back to clean up the take out. He tried to help but you told him firmly to “stay” and like a good boy he does. He watches you walk around the flat like a puppy, eyes glued to your form and glimmering so fondly.

You check the bath and it’s ready.

As you turn to call for him “Johnn-“ you bump into him directly. He followed you here, unable to be away from you. You huff a laugh and lean on him.

“Take a bath Johnny. You could use one of my bath bombs too.”

“Stay with me?” He whines

“I’m not gonna watch you bathe Johnny. You clingy dog.” You chuckle and flick his nose “but I’ll be waiting for you when you come out okay?”

You walk out, feeling his lingering gaze on your back. You go get his bed ready.

It’s…not clean. You’re not proud to admit you’ve slept here on more than one occasion due to his absence. It was a mess of Soap’s belongings. A pile of clothes, some things that reminded you of him, things of the like. You clean it up, place a new bedsheet and pillow case, along with a plushie of a kitten with a mohawk, a gift from you.

(The kitten. Image description: a cute kitten with what looks like a mohawk of fur on it's head. end/ID)

(i-it looks better in the story! but the collar is still there /ID a plushie of the mohawk kitten but it looks crudely made and grumpy with a spiky collar /end ID)

You were admiring your clean up before your were startled by a strong set of hands around your waist and a head into your neck and shoulder. “Johnny! You scared me” He breaths in your scent, while being towel clad “hmm….Bonnie…”

You giggle and turn around, your smile dropping when come face to face with his bared chest. There were more bandages you didn’t see before, new scars and burns. You tsk, gently touching the bandages as he gazed at you “you poor thing…they must hurt so much….”

“…..”

you look up at him “do they hurt? Do you need me to change them or painkillers?”

“I’m fine lovie…”

You shake your head “I left some at your bedside just in case darling.”

“…thank you lassie…what would I do without ye?”

“Die in a ditch apparently”

He smiles, rubbing his thumbs on your waist.

“Never leave me…”

I blush a little at how he said that. Like it wasn’t just a roommate thing. “Never…..let’s get you to bed. I’m sure you’re so tired”

“Nae, I still got an enough for that bedtime story and lullaby”

You laugh “you're such a baby…okay get dressed”

He, being the bastard he is, decided to go “aye” and take off his towel right then and there.

You squeak in surprise and avert your eyes

“Johnny!!”

“What? Like what you see?”

You whine and mumble as he laughs “get dressed!”

You hear a chuckle and him opening the closet, a moment later he speaks “Ye can look now hen”

You turn around and low and behold he didn’t even put on anything “JOHNNY!” You slap your hands over your eyes as he laughs.

“What’s the matter hen?”

“JOHNNY I SWEAR TO GOD-“

“Aye aye, I’ll get dressed.”

You hear some movement as he wears actual clothes, not a lot of clothes but still something

“You can look now, fer real this time”

“So you’re decent?”

“Not morally but I’m wearing pants”

You turn to look and lo and behold this man only put boxers on.

You groan and roll your eyes

“How’s that decent Sergeant Soap?”

“Cannae see my tadger. And it’s Johnny to you.”

You pretty much can see it honestly but you let him.

“Lay on your stomach”

“Be gentle with me hen”

“Of course”

“I’ve been a good boy”

“Shut it”

“Yes ma’am”

You look at the tragic state of his back, pity pulling at your heartstrings.

“Tell me if it hurts too much okay?”

“You can never hurt me hen.���

“Johnny.”

“Aye aye, I will”

You sigh and pull out some oils you have along with a muscle gel that should alleviate any pain he’s brushing off in favor of seeming strong or okay. You know he's usually sore after expending himself so much during his job.

“Yer spolin’ me bloody rotten”

“Shush”

You climb on the bed and gently rub in the oil first

“Nae, could barely feel it.”

You press harder

“It tickles”

You press harder

“Das it”

You roll you eyes and do this. Feeling your face heat up every time he groans and sighs. You later put on the muscle relaxant and he sighs and groans even louder, his voice becoming even deeper due to his tiredness, making your insides mushy.

“Oh…right there…hmm…lower”

You go lower

“Lower”

Alright…

“Lower”

“Any lower and I’ll be touching your ass”

“Aye”

“Okay that’s enough time for bed” you get off him and he whines

“Nooo. I’m so sorry bonnie please come back. I’ll behave”

“Oh really? Never seen you behave once in your life Mactavish” you scold as you put away the things

“Gie me a laldy then”

“Goodnight Johnny” you turn to leave

“No! Wait!” He jumps and yanks you from behind.

“What is it Johnny?”

“Ye Haven’t tucked me in with a bedtime story yet.” He whines

You sigh but secretly you’re smiling wide at his antics, just glad to go through them again. Leave it to Johnny to overcommit to the bit.

“Aight here’s your bedtime story Ya wee sook” you reply, turning to face him. He was shocked “Ya we- where did ye learn tha’?”

“I learnt it from a very sexy Scottish lad once upon a time” you say as you start literally tucking him into bed, the bastard really has you wrapped around his finger.

His face turns red and his smile wide and bright like the sun.

“An’ do I ken this mysterious Scottish lad?”

“Aye” you mimic his accent

He chuckles “tell me about him” he lays down under the covers laying on his side away from the injury. You think for a moment, then a deeply devious and mischievous look came on your face. You grin and began describing.

“He’s sexy, charming, funny, he’s got a cute pet, he’s a like knight who saves princesses, he’s large and strong with a Scottish accent.” You list off as Soap’s face goes brighter and happier. He wouldn’t say ‘save princesses’ but he wasn’t going to really correct you. If you see him as a hero who is he to complain

“I wouldn’t say that. What else?”

“Oh but of course he was. His people were in trouble, and he went out to save them” he shook his head, adorable wee civi aintcha?

You continue “He lived alone for a very long time till he met one woman he began to live with”

“Was she pretty?”

“The fairest in the land” He chuckles and settles in more, getting comfortable as you tell this grown ass man his fucking bedtime story

“what happened?”

“They got married”

His eyes widen in shock as his face and ears turn a hot red. He clears his throat that suddenly became very dry. Did…did this mean what he think it meant?

“Tha’ right?”

“Hmm hmm”

“I like the sounda that”

“Then they lived happily ever after”

Soap looked at you with shocked eyes

“Tha’ so?”

“Hmm hmm”

He quickly put a mask of faux confidence, putting on his big goofy smile. Pride swells in your heart for making him smile so brightly. He clearly needed it.

“And who May this dashing man be?”

“I’ll give you a hint”

“Aye”

“His name starts with an S”

He chuckles

“I think I ken who it is Bonnie”

“Oh really?” You ask, your face growing more excited “who is it”

He pulls his arm out from under the blanket and wraps it around you “tis’ me, Soap. And it’s Johnny to you sweetheart”

His grip tightens as he drags you closer to him, he shoves his face into your stomach, his heart suddenly beating too fast. Is this….your confession? Did you really just say you’ll marry him? Looks like those military spouse benefits are too tempting. He looks up, eyes hopeful and ready for his dreams to come true. That you’ll become Mrs Mactavish and he’s your Prince Charming.

“Wrong.” You suddenly say.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Wha?”

“I said wrong”

“T…then who’s the big strong sexy Scottish lad who marries the fairest in the land?”

“Shrek”

.

.

.

.

“Ye. fuckin’. right. SleEkiT bAmPOT!!”

You burst out laughing hard, doubling over and laughing so hard you collapse on the bed with him. But he doesn’t appreciate that

“Away an’ bile ye head! ye absolute weapon!” He practically yells

“Yer a right glaikit shan wee gobshite! Ye fuckin’ bastard cunt!!”

He raves and raves unintelligibly as you seem to get a six pack just from how hard you’re laughing and occasionally snorting like a pig. You’ve never heard so many Scottish insults in your life. Or at least you would hear them if you weren’t laughing!

Eventually, he shuts up and your laughs slow down. You look at Soap after wiping away your joyful tears. But unfortunately, The look on his face made you burst into laughter all over again.

“Alright alright that’s enough” he huffs and shakes his head, throwing an arm around your face to quiet you.

“Okay okay! I’m done!” You claim, your laughter lowering.

Johnny looked so done with you it was priceless. You were still in a fit of giggles as he shook his head

“Seriously hen? Shrek?”

“Whaaat?” You ask as if you could feign innocence as you’re giggling uncontrollably

“Shrek is the big sexy scott?”

“Yeah!” You laugh

“He bathes in mud Bonnie! He’s nasty” he says disgusted as if he doesn't have worse hear me outs

“And you’re not?”

“Oh that’s it ye-“ he jumps you and harshly man handles you. Pinning you with his big weight, restricting your breathing by pressing on your chest, just being an overall rough housing bastard. It’s not bad enough to cause actual legitimate harm but it’s rougher than he’s ever been with you.

“Johnnyy! Mercy I beg you!” You whine, trying to squirm away and kicking up your legs

“There’s no Johnny here now leannan! Now it’s sergeant Soap! And yer taking discipline!”

You wheeze at the lack of oxygen his man handling is doing, you didn’t have much in you anyway from laughing so much. He growls into your ear and pins your squirmy hands to your chest.

“Johnnyyy! I can’t breathe!” You wheeze out

“Shrek eh?”

You breathlessly giggle at your joke

“Shrek is the sexy charming and funny man who taught you what a wee sook is?”

You wheeze another giggle, unable to stop laughing at the joke.

“Anyone else?”

You try to wheeze an answer “s-s..”

but he doesn’t understand so he lets go. You breath in a desperate deep breath

“Answer the question lassie.”

“What question?” You tease, giggling. He growls and places his pillow on your face to quiet you

“Who’s the charming Scotsmen that makes ye laugh!”

He removes the pillow to get an answer

“Scrooge McDuck”

“You wee lil shite!” He smothers you with the pillow again, so you won’t even have a chance to laugh.

He removes the pillow as you wheeze with a smile

“Wrong answer”

“Whaaat? He’s funny!”

“Tsk. Who’s the Scottish soldier who’s strong and witty”

“James Bond”

“Leannan!!!” He wraps his arm around you in a headlock, he’s done that plenty times before and even taught you how to do it and get out of it, it almost slipped your mind due to your giggling.

You do try to get out of it but he just tightens his hold

“Think ye’re strong, do ye lassie? I’ll show ye strong, ya wee twig!” He growls

“Johnny!” You whine “mercy!”

“No mercy to the enemy bonnie.” He bites your cheek

“Eww! You dog!” You whine and squirm “okay okay you win!”

She shakes his head, mouth still filled with your cheek “Johnny! Please! You’re gross!”

He bites harder

“Away with ye ya daftie!” You poorly mimic He laughs and lets go. You rub your saliva covered cheek on his bicep.

“You’re gross. Let go”

“Nae”

“Johnny.” You try to be stern

“Nah. You need to tell me who th-“

“It’s you! It’s you Johnny! You’re the big, strong, funny, charming Scot that saves princesses!” He lets go, letting you drop on the bed with a thud.

“That’s right lass. Say it again”

“It’s you Johnny. You’re the one I wait in my tower for.”

“Tha’ right?” He says, smiling down at you

“Yeah…it is…”

He smiles and lays down once more

“Either that or Hagrid”

“Bonnie.” He asserts sternly

“Sorry sorry Johnny”

“Brat.”

“Bastard.”

“Your bastard.”

“Your brat.”

You both shake your heads. You sigh and realize how tired you are. You look to the digital clock on Johnny's bedside table. Jesus.

“I’m so sorry Johnny” you get up

“What is it?” He asks, lost

“Just look at the time! A little more and it’ll be sunrise. You need to rest after all that” you hop off the bed but Johnny grips you

“Naee. I’m fine” he whines. Truth was he was exhausted down to the bone, but this was the most affectionate you’ve ever been.

“What is it Johnny?” You sigh

“I haven’t gotten my lullaby”

You groan. You were tired too but you wanted to take care of him.

“Please Bonnie! My heart needs tae be soothed after all tha’. Ye called me nasty :(”

“You’re a big baby Mactavish”

“Aye” he shoves you back to sit on the edge of the bed. You start to lightly scratch his scalp.

“I….don’t have a song..”

“Anythin’s good”

“🎶Somebody once told me th-“

He pinches your waist

“Hahaha, okay not that one”

“…”

“Hmm….🎶we’re no strangers go love. You know the rules and so do-Ouch!”

He grumbles as you giggle

“Then what do you want baby?”

“Quit takin the piss outta me” he grunts “sing…somethin’ calmin’” You think for a bit and a song comes to mind, you think a solider like him could do some good knowing his song.

(A/N: I’m so sorry for what you’re about to sing)

“🎶There's a shadow on the wall, stay calm, stay calm 🎶

🎶There's a figure in the hall, stay calm, stay calm🎶

🎶Keep my wits and stay alive, wish I had a nine to five 🎶

🎶There's a stranger in us all, stay calm, stay calm🎶”

He relaxes and listens intently. Finally a normal song, he thinks foolishly

“🎶Every hair is on it's end, that's fine, I'm fine🎶

🎶Feeling my adrenaline, that's fine I'm fine 🎶

🎶I can keep away the creeps, safely from my swivel seats🎶 🎶Something's crawling through the vents, that's fine I’m fine🎶”

You start humming to him while scratching his head gently. He sighs and cuddles up to your waist more, rubbing his bandaged head gently against you.

“🎶In the end there's only me alright, alright 🎶

🎶 Morning sun will set me free, all right, all right🎶”

His face was calm and droopy, ready to rest his tired war used bones. He looked like he could sleep through the winter.

“🎶I spent..um…many months away from you🎶”

You hum him the tune as he falls asleep, looking peaceful.

After you’re done you sit there admiring him for a moment, seeing him home, not in one piece but home made you take the time to appreciate his presence.

You yawn, realizing that you could see the sunrise peeking from the curtains. Wow it’s late, but it’s worth it. He’s had such a rough time and deserves all the comfort you could give him. You slowly and quietly try to leave the bed, thinking he’s asleep. Only for him, the baby he is, to grip you hard and force you into bed

“Johnny!” You whine, this time whinnier than ever.

“Give me a kiss goodnight princesses”

“Johnny.”

“Please leannan? Last thing I’ll ask o’ ye and I’ll sleep” he sleepily grumbles while gripping you like a stuffed animal. You felt so….vulnerable like this. You’ve never been in his bed with him.

“Promise?”

“Aye”

“Pinky promise?” You tease

“Aye aye just gimmie a Smourich and I’ll sleep”

“Sigh”

“Please”

“Fine” you wiggle in his iron grip to lean up to him and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He smiles, eyes still closed as he settles in one last time. “Goodnight love.”

“Goodnight Johnny” you smile, moving to get out of his grip and go to b-you can’t get out.

Johnny's grip is strong around you. “Johnny?” You pipe up and wiggle to try and move away. He doesn’t budge

“Johnny.” You more firmly and look up to see his sleeping face as if he knocked out cold within seconds of getting a goodnight kiss. “Johnny!” You whine “you bastard! Let me go”

No response

“Johnnyyy!!!” You flop like a fish in his grip but nope! Too bad! You’re stuck!

“Johnny I know you’re awake I swear to god if you don’t let me go right now!”

No response but you swear he’s doing this on purpose. You groan and struggle for a few more moments till you feel a soft furry mass lay on your side, Simon. He fell asleep on the couch after the movie and a joyful (as joyful as Simon could he) reunion with Johnny. You freeze up as Simon gets comfortable, laying on you. You wouldn’t wake up a cat would you? Especially not one so grumpy and tired. No, you sit there without moving a muscle and wait. Cat owner rules.

Welp….looks like you’re sleeping in a big man’s arms tonight. The position makes you flustered but between the unconsciousness of the bastard sergeant, the softness of your cat and your sleep deprived mind body and soul. You decide fuck it and just fell asleep in your roommate’s bed. It’s cozy like this anyway. You’re knocked out cold within the minute.

AN: This is NOT the end!

[heartschampion]

d1 clinger — chris sturniolo

PAIRING. chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY. your boyfriend is the clingest mf to ever exist.

CONTENT. fluff, um idk that's like it, kind of crack i guess, no beta, not proofread.

WORD COUNT. 675

even when you have to use the bathroom at night, chris won't let go of you at all. it's either you take him with you to the bathroom, or you just don't go at all. if you even try to escape from his grasp, he'll whine and pout until the end of time.

"chris, i'm sorry, but i really had to go." you sigh, trying to reason with your clingy boyfriend for the hundredth time that night. he simply pouts and beckons for you to go back to petting his hair. you roll your eyes, but do as he asks nonetheless. the two of you stay like that for who knows how long before chris finally decides that you're worthy of hearing his voice again. "take me with you next time, 'kay?" you snort, shaking your head fondly at your boyfriends antics. of course he of all people would want that. he really couldn't stand a moment apart. "fine."

walking together means holding hands through thick or thin, hot or cold. it could be the world's hottest, most sweltering of heat, and chris would still insist on holding your hand. he would rather deal with you complaining the whole way through than let go.

it was over a hundred degrees in la that day and all you wanted was to get away from the heat, but chris had another idea in mind. really, you should question why you were dating a man who insists on buying the newest addition to the lego botanical collection. to make matters worse, he would rather die than admit that holding hands was disgusting when all of your sweat pooled up in them. your hands were basically a pond of sweat. "you don't wanna hold hands with me?" chris questions, the look on his face just telling that he was offended by the mere idea of it. "no," you say with an exasperated tone. sweat. pond. hand. gross. you raise your hands up and held it up to his face, showing him what was wrong with the whole idea. "i just don't want sweat dripping down my hand." he looks at your intertwined hands for a moment, staring just as a drop of sweat rolls down onto the concrete ground. it leave a wet mark that will most likely be gone in the next minute with how hot it was. "there's nothing wrong with that." "ugh, chris!"

met a fan in the wild? he will find a way to keep his hands on you. do not doubt this man. if chris were to be a saying, he would be the embodiment of 'if there is a will, there is a way.'

you watch as the fan hugs the triplets one by one. first nick, then matt, and finally they arrive at chris. they stand there awkwardly, unsure of how to approach the situation with chris unwilling to let go of you. noticing their hesitance, the boy smiles and holds out his own arms, never actually letting go of your hand and wraps them around the fan warmly. on the flip side, you walk around the two of them, being guided by chris. you deadpan at chris, questioning if that really just happened. in response, he just smirks and gives you a cheeky wink. as the two of them seperate, chris guides you back to your spot beside him and squeezes your hand reassuringly. what would you ever do without your little big clinger? probably have some personal space, but who needs that these days anyways?

no matter what, you can could on your boyfriend to always be there by your side. he'll be there when you're sick, insisting that he doesn't care if he catches the same sickness that has you bedridden. he'll be there the day you get married, albeit he has to be there. he'll even be there as you have raging bloody diarrhea and get matt to drive you to the er.

chris sturniolo is a d1 clinger, but he's your d1 clinger.