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diamonddaze01 · 19 days ago

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Love: Best Served Hot

pairing: chef! kmg x gn!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, slice of life wc: 2.7k

summary: even when he’s exhausted, mingyu wants to care for you.

a/n: this was supposed to be a 300 word drabble idk what happened // i love chef mingoo!!

The door creaks open, releasing a gust of chilly air that carries with it the rich, savory aroma of sautéed garlic and fresh spices. The warm glow of the kitchen lights flicker to life as Mingyu steps inside, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his hair slightly tousled from a long shift. He kicks off his shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and stretches his arms overhead, letting out a dramatic sigh that echoes through the apartment.

“Guess who’s here to save your taste buds!” he announces, though the weariness in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders tells a different story.

You look up from your phone, a grin spreading across your face. “Don’t you ever get tired of cooking, Gyu?” you tease, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, the familiar warmth of the kitchen enveloping you.

He feigns offense, placing a hand on his chest as if you’ve just insulted his entire culinary career. “For you? Never. I’m making you gourmet ramen from scratch. The kind that makes you forget your ex. Trust me; it’s a glow-up for your palate.”

“You said that yesterday about the ribs,” you point out, watching him glide across the kitchen with practiced ease. The overhead lights cast a soft halo around his figure, and the way his hair flops into his eyes adds an adorable charm to his focused expression. “And the kimchi jjigae last week, and the burgers the time before that.”

“Shhhh.” He reaches around you for a cutting board, dropping a soft kiss on your lips to silence you. The warmth of his lips lingers as he pulls back, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ve never met someone who complains so much about getting wined and dined.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms with a mock pout. “I’m not complaining; I’m just keeping you accountable. I need to know if your cooking is really as good as you claim.”

Mingyu laughs, a rich, warm sound that fills the kitchen and dances around you; it makes your heart sing a little, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “If you’re so worried about it, maybe you should just let me cook in peace.”

As he focuses on the task at hand, the slight sheen of sweat forming on his brow catches the kitchen's light, his movements slowing just a fraction. His fingers are steady but the small tremor in his hands gives away just how long he's been on his feet. He brushes his hair back with a frustrated tug, eyes closing briefly as if savoring a second of relief before diving back into the task. It’s in these small, unguarded moments you realize just how worn he is—the dark circles under his eyes, the set of his shoulders that normally stand so proud, now sagging ever so slightly. But even through the exhaustion, there’s a determination in him, the same kind you’ve come to recognize every time he puts your needs before his own.

“Hey,” you say, your voice softening. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break? You’ve been on your feet for hours.”

He glances over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “And what, exactly, have you eaten today, hmm?”

“Uh…” You falter, feeling a familiar flush of embarrassment creeping in.

“Here, let me help you.” He sets down the knife and taps his foot expectantly, whisk in hand. “Knowing you, you probably just subsisted on iced lattes all day because you were too busy to get a real meal, right?”

You huff, your indignation flaring. “I’ll have you know that I had a Pop-Tart and a bag of Skittles! Those are major food groups, you know.”

Mingyu bursts into laughter, but you catch a glimpse of concern flickering behind his playful facade. “Riiiiight,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So now, you’re going to shut up and watch your gorgeous, incredibly talented, hot chef boyfriend make you a meal that has an actual vegetable in it.”

He gets like this sometimes, when he's frustrated that you don't take care of yourself. It’s been a cause for many an argument in the past—his insistence that you need to eat and your stubbornness that you know how to take care of yourself. Those conversations often swirl around the kitchen like a storm, but there’s a gentleness in the way he brushes off your concerns that tells you he cares deeply, even if he masks it with humor.

You watch him chop vegetables, let yourself get lulled into dreamlike trance with the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board. He moves with precision, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration as he glances over to check your expression. His dedication tugs at your heartstrings, a reminder of how he loves: by placing food in front of you even when he’s on the brink of falling asleep standing up. You’ve learned that his love language isn’t just about the meals he makes; it’s in the way he basks in the glow of your compliments, how your smile lights up his tired eyes like a spark in the dark.

You take a step closer, your fingers absentmindedly grazing the cool countertop, the warmth of the kitchen offering little comfort against the concern gnawing at you. It’s moments like these that make your heart ache —the way he pushes himself, never stopping until he’s done taking care of everyone else, even when he should be the one resting. A small, tight knot forms in your chest as you watch him, the way his brow furrows with each precise chop, his body moving with a practiced ease that can’t fully mask the heaviness of his fatigue. You wish you could stop him, take over for once, but you know he wouldn’t allow it. Still, you try to lighten the mood.

“You know, you could just let me make dinner once in a while,” you offer, though your voice softens with unspoken worry.

He shakes his head, a grin breaking through his feigned annoyance. “And ruin my masterpiece? Never.”

The way he leans into the task, the sheer determination on his face, makes you fall in love with him a little more each day. It’s not just the food—it’s the way he pours his heart into everything he does, even when it means sacrificing his own comfort for yours. You can see it in the way his shoulders relax when you compliment his cooking, how he laughs more easily when you’re around, and how the corners of his eyes crinkle with joy when you taste something he’s prepared.

“I just want you to eat something real, not just sugar and caffeine,” he continues, a hint of worry creeping into his tone, finally letting his humorous facade fall for a second. “I can’t have you turning into a human-sized Skittle.”

You can’t help but laugh at the image, feeling the tension of the day slip away. “I’ll have you know that I’d be a delicious human-sized Skittle, thank you very much.”

He rolls his eyes playfully but then yawns again, the gesture drawing your concern back to the surface. “See? That right there—no more yawning until you’ve eaten something substantial, got it?”

He feigns a mock salute, but you can see the hint of exhaustion etched across his features. “Okay, okay, Captain Concerned. I promise I’ll eat something as soon as this ramen is ready. Just… give me a minute.”

You nod, the sincerity behind his words warming you. As he stirs the bubbling broth, you can’t help but admire the way his brow furrows in concentration, how he occasionally glances your way to ensure you’re still there, still watching.

“Alright, but you’d better not fall asleep in front of the stove,” you tease gently, your voice light but your heart heavy with concern.

He nods, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. “No promises,” he retorts playfully, but the warmth in his gaze tells you that he appreciates your worry, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Just keep your gorgeous, incredibly talented hot chef boyfriend awake, alright?” he says, a teasing lilt returning to his voice.

You can’t help but smile, feeling your affection for him grow in the warmth of the kitchen, surrounded by the scents of his hard work. “Deal. But you’d better make that ramen quick, or I might just have to find a way to fuel you with caffeine and Skittles.”

The kitchen hums with quiet, the only sounds coming from the bubbling broth and the soft scrape of Mingyu’s knife on the cutting board. You don’t need to fill the space with conversation; just being there, your silent presence, is enough. It’s always been enough for him. After a long day of being barked at on the line, of rushing orders and chaos, this is what he craves—your calm support, your quiet companionship. You don’t need to ask him how his day was; the tension in his shoulders, the way he brushes his hair back in frustration, tells you everything.

You watch as he works, each movement slow but precise, his exhaustion barely hidden beneath the surface. And still, even in his fatigue, there’s a quiet grace in how he prepares your meal—chopping vegetables, whisking broth, his fingers moving with the kind of ease that only comes from years of practice. He flicks the pan to stir the ingredients and adds garnish with a flourish—and looks over at you for validation.

Even though you’ve seen him do this hundreds of times, you still smile when he meets your eyes. It’s a dance you’ve perfected: him cooking, you watching, the back-and-forth that fills the space between you. It’s more than just food—it's the way he pours himself into each meal, hoping to see that spark of happiness in your eyes, that subtle nod of approval that tells him, once again, that he's done well, that you love what he’s made. And it never fails—you always smile, and in that moment, it’s like he’s won an award.

“That was slick,” you murmur with a grin, watching his tired eyes light up like you’ve just given him a standing ovation.

In return, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, gentle and warm. “Only for you,” he whispers, but you know it’s true. It’s in the way he offers you spoonfuls of broth to taste, holding the spoon up to your lips, watching carefully for your reaction. When you hum in satisfaction, the tension in his shoulders eases, his tiredness momentarily forgotten.

Every compliment you give is met with a kiss—sometimes on your lips, sometimes on your nose, sometimes just a gentle press to your forehead. You know that this is his love language, this silent back-and-forth of care, and it’s how you love him, too. Just being here, watching him, letting him unwind at his own pace. You don’t need to talk for him to know you’re there, supporting him. He knows you’re here, watching him, feeling the weight of his exhaustion, without needing to say it. It’s in the way you linger nearby, always close but never overbearing, allowing him to move at his own pace. Sometimes, just your presence is enough to ease the weight of the world on his shoulders, the sound of your breathing in sync with his, the gentle hum of the kitchen filling the gaps.

You sit at the counter, content to let him work in silence, knowing he’ll fuss if you hover too much. But, true to form, he turns around every now and then, his eyes narrowing like he’s assessing the situation. “You’re going to eat, too, right? Not just stare at me?”

“Obviously,” you tease, though the warmth in your chest says otherwise. He’s tired, you can see it in the way he brushes his hair back, but still, his concern is always you—making sure you’ve eaten something other than sugar and caffeine all day. “I had a Pop-Tart, remember? And Skittles,” you add.

He rolls his eyes, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Yes, of course, the epitome of gourmet food. You need actual food, not whatever sugar rush you’ve been riding on.” There’s a playful tilt to his voice, but beneath it, the care is genuine, the worry etched into his furrowed brow. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can feel it in every movement, in the way he insists on feeding you something real, even when he’s on the brink of exhaustion.

When the ramen is finally done, the kitchen smells like a cozy hug, and he brings the steaming bowl over with a satisfied smile, his usual swagger dimmed slightly by the long hours he's endured. But instead of sitting down at the table, you slide onto his lap. His arms wrap around your waist without hesitation, pulling you closer, his body melting against yours in a sigh that carries all the weight of the day. You can feel the tension leave his shoulders, the stress ebbing away as you press yourself against him.

“Eat,baby,” he murmurs, pushing the bowl toward you. But when you don’t immediately take a bite, he reaches for the chopsticks, bringing the noodles to your lips himself.

You chuckle softly, but he’s serious, his eyes fixed on you as you take the first bite. “Good?” he asks, as if he isn’t already sure of the answer.

You nod, chewing slowly, savoring the warmth that spreads through you. “Perfect.”

Satisfied, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, but before he can relax completely, you grab the chopsticks from his hand and lift a bite of ramen to his lips. “Your turn,” you say, watching as his expression softens.

He laughs under his breath but doesn’t protest, taking the bite with a small nod of approval. “Good,” he hums, his voice lower now, sleepier. But as tired as he is, he still won’t stop fussing, making sure you take another bite, and another, before he lets himself have one too.

The silence between you is comfortable, filled only by the occasional murmur of approval or the clink of chopsticks against the bowl. Every time you compliment the ramen, he preens a little, leaning in to press another kiss to your cheek, your nose, your lips. And with every bite, you fall a little more in love—not with the food, but with him, with the way he cares for you in the smallest, quietest ways. Even when he’s exhausted, even when he should be the one resting, he’s still making sure you’re taken care of, that you’ve eaten, that you’re loved. And that’s how you know he loves you—because he can’t help but put you first, even when his eyes are heavy with sleep.

You sit there, nestled in his lap, feeding him and being fed, the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of the kitchen. This is how you love him—by just being here, letting him rest in the silence, your presence enough to soothe him after a long day. And in return, his way of loving you is by feeding you, taking care of you even when he’s exhausted. No words are needed; the quiet between you speaks volumes.

“You don’t have to always do this, you know,” you whisper, your fingers gently tracing the edge of the bowl. The ramen is long gone, and he’s running his fingers up your arm, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Take care of me, I mean.”

Mingyu’s chuckle rumbles in his chest, the vibration sending a warm ripple through your body. “It’s not about having to. I want to,” he says simply, his voice low and sincere. “Besides, you’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Someone has to make sure you eat.”

You can’t help but laugh, even though you feel a lump forming in your throat. His love is always like this—quiet, unspoken, wrapped in the warmth of small actions rather than big words. It’s in the way he insists on feeding you, the way he pulls you closer when he’s tired but still makes sure you’re taken care of.

“I love you,” you whisper, almost instinctively, the words slipping out before you even realize.

He doesn’t respond right away, but you can feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, his arms drawing you closer as if he’s pulling you into the very core of him. Then, softly, so softly you almost miss it, he presses a kiss to your hair and murmurs, “I love you, too.”

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year ago

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Rumor Has It

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: chaos ensues when Peter suspects you may be pregnant

Masterlist

“Do we have any salt and vinegar chips?” You asked as you rummaged through the kitchen pantry.

“No, because those are disgusting.” Rhodey replied without looking up from his newspaper.

“Actually, they’re delicious.” You insisted. “Clearly someone agrees because they’re all gone. I need something bitter. Do we have any pickles?”

“I think we have some left over from Cap’s birthday blowout. I’ll help you look.” Peter got up from his seat at the kitchen table and went over to help you look.

“I’ll look too. I need some cheese balls.” Sam patted his stomach and went over to the pantry. What he found inside was a nearly empty bag of cheese balls waiting for him. Sam slowly held up the bag to everyone sitting at the kitchen table so that they could see it.

“Who ate all the balls?” He said calmly.

“It wasn’t me.” You answered.

“Not me. I don’t eat that crap.” Bucky scoffed.

“What do you call that then?” Tony asked and pointed to the pop tart in Buckys hand.

“Well it’s strawberry flavored, isn’t it? That’s a fruit.” Bucky replied.

“You’re a fruit.” Tony mumbled.

“Come on. Fess up.” Sam urged. “Who finished all the balls?”

“Not me.” Peter answered while everyone else stayed silent.

“Well it was fookin’ one of yus.” Sam snapped and threw the bag to the ground.

“Don’t look at me.” Tony held up his hands in defense. “I haven’t eaten cheeseballs since the 80s. That was also the last time I tried crack. Unrelated.”

“Someone needs to tell me who ate all the balls or there’s about to be an Avengers level threat in this kitchen.” Sam warned.

“I did it. I ate all the balls.” Carol confessed and stood up from the table.

“And just put back an empty bag? Don’t you think the rest of us would’ve liked some balls?” Sam asked as he slowly walked towards her.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I didn’t care.”

“Maybe you should care. I was looking forward all week to those nice, crunchy balls.”

“We don’t always get what we want.” Carol replied and narrowed her eyes.

“Why did we all decide to drop “cheese” and just say balls?” Peter raised his hand to ask.

“If you finished the balls, you should have replaced them with more balls.” Sam told her.

“I’ve been busy.” Carol shrugged him off.

“Doing what?” Sam scoffed. “Eating all the snacks and not replacing them?”

“Why’d you ask if you already knew?” Carol asked sarcastically, making Sam grow madder.

“I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll kill you harder.” Carol warned back.

“Guys. No fighting in the kitchen.” Tony quipped. “It makes the fruit go bad faster.”

“He’s right. The bad vibes make the banana go brown instantly.” You insisted. Carol looked down at the empty bag of cheese balls and sighed.

“I’m sorry I ate all the balls.” She said sincerely. “I’m on my period right now and I honestly don’t even remember doing it.”

“Fine. You get off the hook this time. But only because I don’t understand how periods work.” Sam said with the same sincerity.

“I can go get some more balls now at the store.” Carol offered. “I need ibuprofen anyway. My cramps are killing me.”

“Hey, sparkles, can you get me some cough stuff while you’re there? My throat is acting up.” Tony said and rubbed his sore throat.

“Why are you always sick?” Sam asked him.

“Your immune system gets weaker as you get older. This cold could very well be his last.” Peter pointed out.

“Thanks.” Tony replied sarcastically through a cough. Carol left for the store and you looked down at the cheese ball bag in confusion.

“What’s today?” You asked Peter.

“The 25th.” He replied. “Don’t ask me what day of the week though. I’ve never known.”

“Hm.” You frowned and put your hand on your stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

“My period was supposed to come on the 10th. I wonder why it’s so late.” You shrugged.

“Weird.” Peter shrugged as well and didn’t think anything of it.

“I guess these will have to do. As entertaining as this was, I’ll be in my room.” You said as you grabbed a bag of tortilla chips, kissed Peters cheek, and left the kitchen. Sam turned to Peter with an amused look on his face, making Peter frown in confusion.

“Uh oh.” Sam chuckled.

“What oh?” Peter asked.

“Nothing. Just don’t ask me to babysit.”

“Babysit who?”

“Your kid.” Sam said simply.

“What kid?”

“The one your girlfriend is pregnant with.” Sam said like it was obvious.

“What?” Peter laughed. “She’s not pregnant.”

“Did we just see the same thing? Her periods late and had weird food cravings? She’s definitely pregnant.” Sam insisted.

“He’s right. Only a pregnant person would willingly eat salt and vinegar chips.” Rhodey said from the table.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no way she’s pregnant.” Peter laughed it off but felt his stomach start to turn with anxiety.

“Oh. My bad. I didn’t realize there was no way.” Sam snorted and looked Peter up and down. It took Peter a minute to realize what Sam was implying and he quickly shut that down.

“Now hold on a minute. Best believe I’m in my baby’s room every night leaving her adequately satisfied. I’m saying there’s no way she could be pregnant because we use protection. And because I have lighting quick reflexes.”

Tony threw a a buttered bagel at Peter from the kitchen table and it stuck to his chest. Peter looked down at the bagel before looking at Tony in shock.

“Why would you do that?” Peter asked.

“The question you should be asking is didn’t your tingle tell you I was gonna do that? Maybe your reflexes aren’t as quick as you thought.” Tony shrugged and went back to his breakfast. Peter peeled the bagel off and tossed it in the trash before looking at Sam.

“Do you really think she’s pregnant?” He whispered.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Peter asked back.

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Sam suggested.

“Yeah. That’s a really good idea. Let me ask my girlfriend if she’s pregnant. That definitely won’t effect her self esteem in any way or make her mad at me at all.”

“You’re right.” Sam agreed. “You have to sleuth.”

“Or I could just wait until she feels ready to share the news.” Peter pointed out.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “You gotta go sleuth.”

And so, Peter left the kitchen to sleuth. He went to your room and pushed your door open to find you.

“Hey, honey bee.” Peter greeted you as he walked into your room. You were standing in front of your floor length mirror with your shirt pulled up a little.

“Do you think I’ve gained weight?” You asked as you examined your reflection.

“Uh….” Peter looked behind him for help getting out of this question. He ended up turning in a full circle twice and got dizzy.

“Peter?” You asked and rolled your shirt down.

“Ummmmm.” He stalled and pretended to take sudden interest in the things on your dresser. He knew girls had a record of asking things and wanting certain answers and he was almost positive that this was one of those questions. Your question had also watered the seed that Sam had just planted in Peters head about you possibly being pregnant. Peter knew he needed to avoid answering this question before you got suspicious that he might know something.

“Did you say something?” He asked you.

“I asked you a question.” You laughed at his obvious attempt at avoiding the question.

“You did? I must’ve miss that.” He played dumb.

“Just be honest with me. Do you think I’ve gained weight?” You repeated.

“I don’t understand the question, sorry.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.”

“I’m confused. Are you asking me?” Peter forced a confused laugh and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You’re the only one in here. Do you think I’ve gained weight? Be honest.” You asked and looked back at your mirror again to see your side profile.

“In what regard?”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Just answer the question. I’m not gonna be mad. It’s not the end of the world to gain weight. I just want to know if you’ve noticed it.”

“I’ve never noticed anything. Ever.” Peter replied.

“Right. Thank you.” You chuckled and walked over to him to wrap your arms around his neck. He kissed you hello and momentarily forgot about what Sam had suggested.

“Why do you ask?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. I was just getting dressed and I realized I used to put this belt on this hole but today I put it on the hole after that.” You shrugged and showed him your belt.

“Maybe it shrunk.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I grew.” You shrugged.

“You look beautiful either way.” Peter said sincerely. “Whether you got bigger or not. You’re still the only girl I want to holla at.”

“I think so too. Thanks.” You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder to hug him. Peter wrapped you in his arms and sighed happily and you gently rocked back and forth.

“You’re welcome.” He answered. For a second, he wasn’t panicking about the possibility of a baby. Instead, he felt excited to start a family with the person he loved most.

Later in the afternoon, you and Peter strolled into the kitchen to get some snacks. Tony and Sam were making lunch while Carol restocked the snack cabinet.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s your cough syrup.” Carol said and gave the cough medicine to Tony.

“Thanks. My throat is killing me.” Tony sighed and cracked open the bottle.

“Here. We have measuring cups in the-�� You started to say as Tony took a long swig of the syrup.

“Or chug it. Okay.” You nodded while Peter stifled a laugh.

“Ugh. They can’t figure out how to make this taste any better?” Tony grimaced and wiped his mouth.

“I’ll make you some tea to wash it down.” You offered and filled the kettle with water.

“Thanks, kid.” Tony smiled. “I love when my annual man flu lines up with when you’re home from school. You’re so good at taking care of people.”

“Thanks for saying that. I don’t know what it is but I really like taking care of people when they’re sick. It makes me feel like a mom.” You said as you poured the hot water over a tea bag. Peter started choking on the water he was drinking while Sam gulped.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom.” Carol told you. “You’re so giving.”

“Aw, thank you. I hope so.” You smiled and patted your stomach twice. Peter and Sam exchanged a look with equal panic on their faces. Sam grabbed Peters arms and pulled him aside.

“Did she just pat her stomach?” Sam whispered.

“No way. This can’t be happening. You can’t be right. You’re never right!” Peter whispered back as he started to panic.

“Maybe this time, I was!” Sam whispered harshly.

“She can’t be pregnant. There’s no way. She would’ve told me.”

“She is telling you.” Sam insisted. “She’s dropping hints like crazy.”

“Oh my God. Why’d you have to put this idea in my head? I’m freaking out, man.”

“So am I. You think I want a spider baby crawling up the walls and shit like it’s the exorcist?”

“Technically the exorcist is the guy who gets rid of the demon. He doesn’t crawl up the walls. The possessed person does that. Well, I guess depending on the demon.”

“Jesus Christ. This kid is about to be so god damn annoying.” Sam sighed.

“You know what? No. She’s not pregnant.” Peter decided and walked away.

“Are you sure about that?” Sam called after him as he went back into the kitchen. When Peter got there, you were mixing honey into Tony’s tea while helping him with something on his phone. Peter watched you patiently teaching Tony and smiled to himself. He once again felt that maybe it would be okay if Sam was right. If you were pregnant, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It was unexpected and jarring, but not impossible for Peter to handle as long as he had you.

The pregnancy rumor that existed between only Peter and Sam died down for the next few days. It wasn’t until a rainy Sunday that Peter thought about it again. You were watching a movie in the living room with some of the team when Natasha came in.

“Carol and I were gonna go train. You wanna join?” Natasha asked you.

“I would but my lower back is killing me. I think I slept weird.” You said and cracked your neck. Peter felt his face heat up when you said this, and Sam caught it too.

“Did you hear that? Her back hurts. Because of the baby!” Sam whispered to Peter.

“That’s not why. Didn’t you hear her? She said she slept weird.” Peter whispered back.

“Duh, she slept weird because of the baby!” Sam whispered again. Peter waved him off but couldn’t help but wonder if he was right.

“I could crack it for you.” Natasha offered.

“Could you? Thank.” You got off the couch and went over to Natasha. She wrapped her strong arms around you and was about to squeeze when Peter jumped off the couch.

“Not so fast.” He said and pulled you away from Natasha.

“What’s the matter?” You wondered. Peter was dumbstruck for a second when he realized he couldn’t say he didn’t want Natasha to crack your back incase her giant muscles squished the little baby in your tummy.

“I just don’t think it’s safe to be cracking her back if you don’t know what you’re doing. You could hurt someone.” Peter tried to explain but didn’t sound convincing.

“I’m not gonna hurt her. I’ve cracked her back plenty of times.” Natasha insisted and pulled you back towards her.

“Okay. Just be careful. Baby on board.” He mumbled the last part quickly.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“Nothing. What did you say?” Peter asked you to throw you off.

“I didn’t say anything. Weirdo.” You laughed at his odd behavior and let Natasha crack your back. Peter held his breath until you were safely out of her arms.

“Oh thank God.” He sighed. “We survived that. Cool.”

“Did you not think we would?” You laughed in confusion.

“I don’t know how to answer that question.” Peter answered honestly.

“You are being so odd lately. More than usual, you know that?” You chuckled as you pulled him back towards the couch.

“That’s just my boyish charm.” Peter laughed weakly and settled back onto the couch. He pulled you into his side and told himself that your back could be hurting for any number of reasons and didn’t necessarily mean you were pregnant. You watched the movie for a little bit until Peter felt you shift and wince a little.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

“Yeah. My boobs are just sore.” You said and adjusted your bra uncomfortably.

“Why? Did you sprain them?”

“Um, no.” You chuckled. “I don’t even think you can sprain them. I must be PMSing.”

“Oh, thank God.” Peter said too enthusiastically. “Your period came?”

“No. Why do you seem so excited about it?” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. Peter gulped and avoided eye contact with you.

“Excited? I’m not excited. Your men’s trail cycle doesn’t evoke any emotions within me. But if you don’t mind me asking, how are you PMSing without the P?”

“I’m pretty sure the P stands for “pre”. But you still get the symptoms sometimes even if you’re not on your period.”

“Interesting, interesting. Follow up question, are you usually this off kilter?”

“You mean irregular?” You laughed. “No. I haven’t been late in years.”

“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh and tried to focus on the movie while his mind raced.

“You’re telling me. My boobs hurt like a bitch.” You whined and pulled the blanket up to your chin.

“Ahem, I could help with that, m’lady.” Peter smirked and held up both his hands. You looked at him for a long time with a disgusted expression before turning back to the movie.

“I want pretzels.” You said.

“Coming right up.” Peter jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen. Sam saw him leave and got up to go after him.

“How’s it going?” He asked Peter once they were alone in the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “She hasn’t told me anything yet.”

“Is she showing any other signs?”

“She said she thinks she gained weight but I can’t really tell. I don’t think about that stuff. I just see her and I’m like “oh my god it’s a girl”. Have you noticed anything else?”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I saw her rip the wrong banana from the bunch and broke down crying.” Sam admitted.

“Oh no. Is craving bananas a symptom of pregnancy?”

“No, idiot. Mood swings are. For your future child’s sake, I really hope she isn’t actually pregnant. No one deserves this dumb of a father.”

“I know.” Peter whined. “What do I do? I’m freaking out.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell you soon. And if she doesn’t, you’ll find out anyway. It’s kinda hard to hide a pregnancy after a few months. Just relax, man.”

“Okay. You’re right.” Peter agreed. “I’m not gonna freak out until I know there’s something to worry about. Now excuse me while I pee out this apple juice.”

Peter walked away from Sam and went into the bathroom. After peeing, he blew his nose and went to throw it out when he saw something strange in the trash. He frowned and pulled it out before feeling all the color drain from his face.

“Oh no.” He said gravely. In his hand was a pregnancy test with two red lines.

“Positive? What? Are you sure?” Peter whispered harshly and shook the test. The lines stayed the same and Peter felt his stomach drop. All those moments of thinking everything would be okay seemed so far away now. Now that it was real and not just an idea, Peter felt overwhelmed. You were really pregnant and he really didn’t know what to do. He felt his heart start to race and he fell against the door with the test in his hand. You heard Peter thud against the door and went to go investigate.

“Peter? Are you okay in there?” You asked as you knocked against the door.

“Go away! I’m pooping!” Peter screamed as he ran the test under hot water to try to change the answer.

“Why is that always your response?” You sighed and walked away. Peter waited until you were gone before sneaking out of the bathroom. He went to go find Sam and yanked him into another room.

“Dude. It’s true. She’s pregnant.” Peter said and handed Sam the test.

“Oh shit. Are you sure?” Sam asked and shook the test.

“I already tried that. It’s true. She’s pregnant.” Peters mouth went dry as he said it out loud. It felt even more real now and he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Dude. This is serious. Aren’t you guys in like middle school?”

“We’re both in college. But still. I’m not ready to be a dad. I can’t even take care of myself. Look at this rash.” Peter whined and lifted his shirt to show Sam the red ring around his armpit.

“Oh my God. What the hell is that?” Sam grimaced and raised his hands to protect himself from Peters rash.

“A rash. Like I said.” Peter said flatly. “I think I’m allergic to my deodorant.”

“So use a different one.”

“But I like how this one smells. It’s called Flannel, see?” Peter said and got closer to Sam with his arm raised.

“Get your armpitt out of my face before I make it where you can’t have anymore kids.” Sam warned and Peter put his shirt down.

“What am I supposed to do?” He whined. “Mr. Stark is gonna kill me. And then May is gonna kill me. And then Y/n’s parents. I’m gonna die three times. Three times!”

“Yeah. No, I agree. You’re definitely fucked.” Sam agreed.

“What? That’s not helping!”

“I’m sorry dude, but how am I supposed to help you in this situation?”

“I don’t know. Tell me it’s all gonna be okay?”

“Is it? You’re not out of college yet and neither is she. Neither of you have jobs that can support a child. And it’s not like you live together either. Where would the baby even stay? Your crappy apartment? Or here at this tower full of nuclear weapons and glass windows that aren’t baby proof?”

“I didn’t even think of those things.” Peter realized and started to panic all over again.

“Clearly you don’t think at all. How did this even happen?”

“From sex.” Peter whispered and covered his mouth.

“I know that.” Sam rolled his eyes. “But don’t you guys use protection?”

“Of course. Always. Wrap it before you tap it. On god.”

“Well is she on the pill?”

“What pill?”

“You know. The pill.”

“Tylenol?” Peter asked.

“Oh my God. This poor baby.” Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“What am I gonna do Sam? I’m not ready to be a father. I only had one until I was 9. What if the kid turns ten? I don’t have any examples of being a father past age 9. What am I gonna do?” Peter whined and shook Sam by the shoulders.

“She could get an abortion?” Sam suggested.

“Maybe but that’s not up to me. If she wants to keep this baby, we’re keeping the baby.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. Have you ever babysat?”

“Just Ned’s tomagotchi. And it died. Like, immediately.”

“Well lucky for you, Y/n is gonna make a great mom. You’ve seen how caring she is. She takes care of all of us when we get sick. And she gets weirdly excited to do it too. If you so much as sneeze around her she runs to get you a thermometer and a blanket. And she knows all the passwords for streaming services.”

“You’re right. She’s got this. I can learn from her.” Peter said and started to calm down.

“Are you gonna tell her you know?”

“No. She deserves to tell me in her own way on her own time.” Peter decided.

“I think that’s smart. In the meantime, you should probably hit the books. There seems to be a lot you don’t know.”

“You’re right.” Peter realized. “I need to know what to expect when I’m expecting.”

“Can I be honest?” Sam asked.

“Sure.”

“I kinda thought that between the two of you, you’d be the one to carry the baby. Not her.” Sam told him.

“No, I get that.” Peter nodded in agreement.

That night, Peter opened his laptop and started to research everything he could on pregnancy.

“I’m gonna the father the shit out of this kid.” He whispered to himself before diving into his research. By the time the sun came up, his eyes were red and glazed over. His hands were cramping from all the typing and his back was stiff beyond repair. He had spent the night reading every article he could find and took extensive notes. He shut his laptop when he heard birds outside and padded out of his room. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw you about to take a bite of a bagel with lox.

“No!” Peter screamed and shot a web at your bagel. He yanked it away from you and threw it at the cabinet, where it stuck. Everyone turned to look at Peter and he felt his face heat up.

“What the hell was that?” You laughed in surprise.

“You can’t be eating that in your condition.” Peter blurted.

“What condition is that?” You asked and Peter realized he had said too much.

“Um, dating a boy who thinks fish is gross?” He smiled weakly.

“It’s just lox. Try it. I think you’ll like it.” You said and started to make another bagel. He realized that if he ate the rest of the lox, you couldn’t eat any. He had read in his research that uncooked fish was not safe for pregnant women to eat but it seemed like you didn’t know that yet. Keeping it away from you without telling you what he knew was his best bet.

“Okay. Yeah.” Peter reluctantly agreed and sat next to you at the table. You handed him your bagel with the fish on top and he gagged a little. Peter the opened his mouth and shoved the entire bagel inside. He chewed it slowly and gagged every so often.

“You ate the whole thing.” You said in disbelief over what you had just witnessed.

“Uh huh.” Peter said with a full mouth.

“Did you like it?” You laughed and wiped some cream cheese off his mouth.

“Yeah. Yummy.” Peter said weakly. He turned his head a little and gagged loud enough for you to hear.

“Peter, if you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“I love it.” He lied and kept chewing. He slowly swallowed the massive bite and made a face as it went down.

“Do you want to throw up?” You asked him.

“Yes please.” He nodded. You brought Peter to the bathroom and held his messy hair back as he threw up into the toilet. Once it was all out, he rested against the wall. He caught sight of the garbage can, the very one ye had found your pregnancy test in.

“Soon, this will be me helping you throw up.” He said.

“What?”

“What?” Peter said quickly when he realized what he had said.

“Are you feeling okay?” You laughed and checked his forehead.

“Are you?” He genuinely asked, wanting to know if you were experiencing morning sickness yet.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Peter lied. You found his behavior strange but decided not to question it further. You knew Peter well enough to know that this was just how he behaved sometimes. You brought him back to the kitchen and made him some tea for his tummy as Peter watch d carefully from his seat. He felt himself relax for the first time since finding the test. Now that he had some some research and remembered how good you were at taking care of people, he felt more confident in your combined skills as parents.

That feeling was confidence was shaken later that day when Peter went into your room to find you. He pushed open your bathroom door and found you sectioning your hair into parts with the faucet running. Beside the sink was your hair straightener. Peter gasped dramatically and yanked the plug out of the wall before shutting off the water.

“Are you crazy? What the are you doing?” He asked as he took the straighter out of your hands.

“Doing my hair? Is that okay?” You laughed in confusion and reached for the straitened.

“You can’t be using this when the waters running. What if you drop it into the sink and get electrocuted?” Peter said as he held the straightener up.

“I’m not sure it works like that. I think it the sink would have to be full of water.”

“Oh. Well I don’t know how hair straighteners work, okay? I’m not God.”

“Peter, you’re being ridiculous. More than usual. Let me straighten my hair. I have to go out tonight.” You whined and took the straitener from him.

“Go out where?”

“It’s Kate’s birthday. We’re gonna go to karaoke and then go to a bar.” You explained as your ran a section of hair through your straightener.

“A bar?!” Peter nearly screamed.

“Yes, oh my God.” You laughed at his outburst. “What’s with you today?”

“What’s with me? What’s with you? You know you’re not supposed to drink when you’re…” Peter trailed off and you looked at him in confusion.

“When I’m what?”

“When you’re on medication.” He said quickly. “Obviously that’s what I was going to say. I saw you take Tylenol before. You’re not supposed to mix alcohol and medicine.”

“That was just for my back pain. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go out tonight.” Peter whined and wrapped his arms around you. You stopped doing your hair and turned around in his arms to face him.

“Why not?” You wondered.

“Because…” Peter trailed off as he desperately tried to think of something. He only knew one thing that would be sure to get you to stay.

“Because I’m not feeling so good.” He lied and faked a cough.

“Oh no. You’re sick?” You gasped and felt his forehead.

“Yeah. So sick. Tony must’ve given me whatever he has. I feel horrible.” Peter whined and clutched his stomach.

“But Tony’s throat was bothering him. Does your stomach too?” You asked when you saw what Peter was doing. Peter realized he was faking the wrong illness and nodded.

“Oh yeah. My throat and my stomach hurts. And I think I’m getting a fever too. And my toe fell off.” He laid it on thick to get you to stay.

“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and pulled him into your arms.

“Baby?” Peter whispered in fear.

“I’ll take care of you, okay? I’ll tell Kate I can’t make it.” You smiled sweetly as you cupped his face. Peter felt bad for lying to you but he couldn’t let you go out drinking if you were pregnant.

“Thanks, honey bee. You’re the best.” He smiled back. You took his hand and brought him to his room to tuck him into bed. Peter felt guilty all over again when you went to go make him some soup. He was feeling perfectly fine so your efforts were for nothing. You came back and fed him the soup, making him feel even worse about lying.

“I feel like Peeta in the cave.” Peter joked as you held the spook to his lips.

“Ugh, dirty Peeta in the cave is so hot. I would’ve won the games with the things I’d do to that man on camera. I’ll tell you that.”

“Wait, what?” Peter sat up and looked at you.

“How about some tea?” You smiled sweetly as you changed the subject.

“Can we circle back to what you just said about-“

“I’ll go make some.” You cut him off as you left his room. You came back soon with a hot mug of tea for Peter. He was already sweating under the blankets you tucked him into and the hot soup, so tea was the last thing he wanted. But he felt that that’s what he deserved for lying to you.

“Oh, no. You’re so sweaty. You must be getting a fever.” You frowned once Peter had finished his tea.

“Oh no. Must be.” Peter laughed weakly and discreetly fanned his face.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You said and climbed into Peters lap. You started to kiss his neck and he went into high alert mode.

“What are you doing?” He asked and gently moved you back.

“Kissing you?”

“With a suggestive undertone.” He replied, sounding accusatory.

“Is that a problem?” You laughed and bent down to kiss his neck again. He pulled you off and looked at you in disbelief.

“You want to have sex? The very thing that caused this?”

“Huh? Caused what?” You asked.

“The pregnancy.” He said like it was obvious. Peter slapped his hand over his mouth as you tilted your head in confusion.

“Wait, what? What pregnancy?”

“Your pregnancy.”

“My pregnancy?” You asked as you sat back on your knees. Peter sat up as well and pushed the blankets off himself.

“I’m sorry. But I know.” Peter admitted with a sigh.

“Know what?” You laughed in confusion.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, honey bee. I already know about the pregnancy.” Peter said as he took your hands.

“Wait, I’m confused. Who’s pregnant?” You asked him.

“You are.” He said simply.

“I’m pregnant?” You asked and pointed to yourself.

“Yes. You’re pregnant.”

“Me?” You asked and looked behind you for who else he might be talking to.

“Yes, you.” He urged and shook your hands.

“Hold on. Who told you I was pregnant?” You laughed at how serious he was.

“You did.” Peter said like it was obvious.

“Me?” You questioned and pointed to yourself again.

“You’re the only one in the room right now.”

“Peter, I never said I was pregnant. I think I would remember saying something like that.”

“That’s because you didn’t say it with words. You’ve just been dropping hints like crazy. The sore back, the eating of salt and vinegar chips-“

“Those are-“

“No they’re not.” He cut you off before you could defend them.

You stared at Peter as you tried to gage if he was being serious or not. He stared back at you as he tried to figure out if you were upset or relieved that he knew.

“Also I found this positive pregnancy test in the trash.” He said as he pulled the test out of his pocket. You took the test from him and looked at it for a long time. Peters heart raced as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you flipped the test over and showed him what it said on the back.

“This is a strep throat test.” You said calmly.

“What?!” Peter shrieked and took the test back. Sure enough, the back said “rapid strep throat test” in raised letters.

“Tony has strep throat. You knew this.”

“This looks exactly like a pregnancy test.” Peter defended as he showed you the test again.

“Peter, this looks nothing like a pregnancy test. Do you know what a pregnancy test looks like?”

“Apparently not.” Peter scoffed. You stared at him for a minute before cracking up laughing.

“You really thought I was pregnant? That’s why you didn’t let me eat fish or straighten my hair? And tried to stop Natasha from cracking my back? Which I still don’t see the correlation, by the way.”

“I didn’t want you or the baby to be in harms way. What if the straighter shocked you and the baby came out like the Flash? What if it just ran right out of your womb? Or what if Natasha squeezed you so hard and the baby popped out like a rocket?”

“You know shocking little about pregnancy.”

“I know. But as nervous as I was, I was also kinda excited.” Peter admitted. “I know you’re the person I’m gonna be with forever. It would be nice to have a little one that was a combination of the both of us.”

“And one day, we will have one.” You assured him. “And hopefully, they’ll inherit my intelligence over yours.”

“I hope so too.” Peter chuckled. You leaned down to kiss him and he felt himself fully relax for the first time in days.

“I hope you know that if we do have a kid one day, you’re carrying it. I’m not getting fat.” You told him once you pulled away.

“I don’t know if that’s medically possibly yet. Not for cis men, anyway.“

“We’ll find a way.” You shrugged. “We can ask Bruce. You can be like a seahorse! Or Cosmo from the Fairly Oddparents.”

“I’d do it for you, honey.”

“I know you would. That’s why I know you’re my forver person too.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. Peter pulled you into his lap and slipped his hand behind your head to deepen the kiss.

“So, now that we know you’re not pregnant…” Peter trailed off and played with the buttons on your shirt. You caught on to what he was suggesting and laughed as you pushed his face away.

“Not a chance.”

Tag List 🏷️

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cumikering · 7 months ago

Text

Neighbour Ghost x reader 4

2.4k | fluff Simon liked the way you looked at him (part 1) (part 5)

“Why was the strawberry crying?” Simon asked, casually buttering his toast that Saturday morning.

“Why?”

“’cause it was in a jam.” He looked too proud of himself as he took a bite of his toast.

You laughed, looking up from the near empty jar you were trying to clean out with your butter knife.

He loved seeing your bright smile as you sat there across the small table. Even that this was his first breakfast with you, it was better than dinner. In the gentle sun, your eyes were even lovelier, wisps of hair around your face like a halo. The building was far quieter at the hour and you felt closer, like you were all his in this quiet corner of the world.

“Luv, I was wondering if you could teach me how to bake? If you don’t mind.”

“But I’m not a very good baker.”

“Bollocks. Your pie was mint.”

You chuckled. “Okay, that one I can.”

After breakfast, you laid ingredients on the counter next to the recipe - your handwriting distinct, pleasant. Were you ever going to write something for him? A little note would be more than enough, but if he could ask, he’d prefer a letter, maybe, for when he’s away thinking of you.

“Would you like an apron?” You held yours up, with a cat print peeking out of the pocket.

He chuckled, looking over as he washed his hands. Would you like him more in one? “If you reckon I need it.”

You tied it around his waist and let out a small giggle at the sight. “So you want to cut the butter into smaller pieces,” you said, working the butter into the flour with the back of a fork before handing it over to him.

Simon pressed the fork onto the butter, but the sheer force of it made flour fly out of the mixing bowl.

“Shite,” he said under his breath.

“Gently.” You placed your hand over his, pushing it down. “This way.”

He took a breath as he watched how you did so easily, but most of all, revelled in your touch. You’d already held hands, but this was something else. He wished you didn’t let go. And you didn’t, instead wrapping an arm around his waist, watching, as he proceeded with the job you assigned.

He peered at you and you nodded approvingly.

“Now tip that out and fold the dough over itself until it comes together - no dry flour left.”

He dumped the lumpy, powdery mess onto the board and brought it together with his large, awkward hands. But a few folds in, the dough started to transform into a cohesive ball. His brows rose in amusement.

“Look at that, you’re a natural!”

He chuckled to himself as you beamed at him proudly.

Next came the filling. You placed the peeler in his palm - the very same one from last week - his fucking nemesis. He picked up one of the apples, dwarfed by his hand, hoping he had better luck with rounded objects.

He didn’t. He was taking off chunks off the pitiful fruit. He should have come prepared and asked his mum how to peel apples without looking like he was about to stab someone. They certainly didn’t teach you how to use a peeler at the butcher.

“I like to do it this way.” You lightly took the tool from him and demonstrated with another apple. “Hold it here and pull away, like this. Even pressure for the thinnest peel.”

Thanks for not calling me daft.

Following your advice, the assignment didn’t turn out to be that hard. You put on some music as he cored and cut up the apples. At least he was far better with traditional knives.

“Quality control,” you said, popping a piece in your mouth.

Simon chuckled, placing the knife down as he turned to you. “Any good?”

“Mhm. Sweet, but tart enough.” You reached for the mixing bowl again, but he caught your wrist, making you look up at him.

“Would you please let me kiss you?”

You blinked and his heart stalled in those few silent seconds, but you stepped towards him, clutching the front of his black shirt. He sighed as he leaned in, arm around your waist, finally tasting your lips - perfect just like he’d always imagined them to be. The apples were indeed sweet.

You pulled away and bit down your smile, eyeing him from under your lashes before looking away. He too couldn’t stop the grin that crept up his face, nor the thumping of his chest. He picked up the knife and continued the task at hand while you stood next to him measuring out the rest of the ingredients.

On the occasions he looked over to make sure he was following your directions correctly, your gazes met and you turned away, hiding your face behind your cup of jasmine tea. He found it endearing.

The crust he rolled out looked mangled but you reassured no one would be able to decipher the patchwork when it was all done. As he brushed the top of the pie with egg wash, he nodded when you asked if you could take a photo of him.

You gave him a little peck when he finally closed the oven door, just like you had each time he finished a step. He felt like a dog, getting a treat for every good behaviour. The pie felt like a chore now. Could he not dive into all his treats already?

You sat on the couch as the pie baked.

“I’ve always wondered how far your sleeve goes. Does it extend to your chest?”

“Just a sleeve.” He pulled his shirtsleeve up revealing the entirety of his monochrome tattoo.

Your lips pursed. Did he look that good that it flustered you? You were adorable. He liked the way you were looking. Could you never look away again?

“Would you believe me if I told you I had a nipple ring?”

You laughed, tearing your gaze away from his arm. “No way.”

“It was a stupid bet I lost shortly after I enlisted.”

“What was it?”

“It’s too embarrassing. Maybe next time.”

Simon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to him as he leaned back. With your hand on his chest, you closed the gap and he just wanted to melt into a puddle against your soft lips. Your breath hitched as his fingers ran down your spine.

You lay on top of him, and his wary fingers toyed with the ends of your hair. The both of you remained silent in each other’s embrace, kissing occasionally, until the timer on the oven went off.

“What do you want for dinner?”

Simon took another bite of his pie that he had to admit tasted far better than he expected it to, perhaps even as good as yours if he was generous (if he closed his eyes anyway). No soggy bottom, at least. Merry Berry would be proud.

“I’m going to the soup kitchen, so I’ll get something nearby after.”

How could he forget? It was the first Saturday of the month.

“You need to pick up loaves from the bakery, yeah? Need me to drive you?”

You smiled. “I’d really like that if you don’t mind, actually. Oh, I need to text Ben, in case he forgets.”

“Ben?”

“Your mums’ boss. We pickup leftover bread there at a discount.”

As you buckled up in his SUV, he realised he never got to hand you your gift last night. He reached for the bag in the backseat.

“For you.”

You pulled out the grey fabric and that beautiful smile bloomed across your lips again.

“Oh, Simon, that’s lovely.” Your fingers traced over the little patch on the left side of the chest. A slice of apple pie. You looked up at him. “Thank you so much.”

It was impossible for his heart to not skip at such a sight.

As you settled the payments with Ben, Simon helped you haul the crates of bread into his car. He was glad he was around this time to help you out otherwise you’d have to take a taxi all by yourself like you always did.

“Ben, mate?” As Simon carried the last of the crates, he stopped at the door which the older gentleman was holding open. “You reckon you’ve got anything to do with how the bastard found out my mum works here?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know him.”

“Did you contact the coppas? Ran a background check on her perhaps?”

Ben’s eyes widened. “Oh, I had no idea-“

Mr. Riley must have played the worried husband and reported her missing back home to have been notified.

He sighed. “No worries, Ben. It’s not your fault.”

“R- really?”

He felt bad about how the old man gripped the door, still looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m just glad you were there with her. Oh-“ He fished out a wad of cash from his back pocket and handed it to Ben. “To cover the discount. See you around, mate.”

Still in disbelief, he flinched at the pat on his arm.

At the facility centre, the lieutenant effortlessly carried the load into the kitchen, but he lingered at the building’s entrance.

“You reckon there’s anything else I can help with inside?”

You smiled. “Always.”

Perhaps Simon should have asked what the menu was before offering a hand, but he was glad it was the humble garlic bread and that his slicing and buttering skills were decent. You introduced him as a friend to the other volunteers, who were polite (or scared) enough not to question how close he stood by you. But was it bad if he wanted more, if he wanted them to ask who he really was to you?

At 6, people started pouring into the hall. Some knew you by name, greeting you with a grin that faltered when they laid eyes on the stony lieutenant next to you. It must have been comical how the both of you looked behind the small table handing out garlic bread, his frown a stark contrast to your bright self.

But he was having a grand time simply being close to you, seeing you and your friends making people smile. His pinky trailed down your hand.

You looked up at him, shoulder bumping his arm. “You keep our country safe. That’s why we get to have nights like this.”

He smiled when you held his hand. He supposed he was a tiny, tiny bit responsible for this. Your reassurance gave him a new sense of pride, that he was doing something.

After a late dinner you insisted Simon pick, the both of you headed home. When he made it to your flat in the baggiest shirt he owned, you were on the couch, freshly showered just as he was.

You should be kicking him out for bothering you even at this hour, so why did you take him by the hand and lead him to your bed instead? He didn’t resist when you lay next to him, your hand propping your head up.

His heart raced with you this close, watching your soft eyes travel over his face that he didn’t feel deserved to be mere inches away from your beautiful one.

“Simon Riley,” you said quietly, your thumb tracing his lower lip.

“Hm?”

“You’ve got a pretty name.”

Even my last name?

Your gaze flicked up. “Your eyes are really pretty too.”

His eyes fluttered close as he let out an uneven breath.

“You’re beautiful.” Your fingers trailed down his scruffy jaw.

He was certain now his chest was about to explode. Were you high? What did you see in him?

He’d never been touched so carefully before, gazed at so softly. Not even by his first and last love, his childhood sweetheart, whom the thought was the one before duty got in the way. It had been so long ago that he’d forgotten what it felt like to have a bit of peace, to just be - if things were ever this pleasant.

Each ‘a little more’ of you carried him further and further, and he’d floated a little too far from shore - the shore which had thinned into a distant line in the horizon, foreign from where he was as he threaded.

Wasn’t this only going to end one way? He was playing with fire, going down a slippery slope, to be in involved with you as this mess of a man. He did terrible things for a living. He wasn’t good enough for you, couldn’t you see? Or were you too compassionate to understand? It was all the more why he shouldn’t be here with you, in your bed, under your touch, even when he didn’t ever want to leave this flat of yours.

But you let him stay anyway, even after the shameful admittance of his past. Could it be that it didn’t matter to you, that for the first time he was alright as he was, despite his shortcomings? Perfectly loveable, as you were in his eyes?

Hope glimmered in him. I want to be good enough for you.

“Why are you so… nice?”

You took a moment to reply. “It’s easy to be. Being nice is free.”

It was not. Nothing was, but who was he to break your heart?

“Have you not been hurt from that?”

Your lips quirked into a resigned smile. “Unfortunately so, but sometimes it’s worth it.”

He pulled you in, his fingers tangled in your hair as you let out a soft giggle against his lips. When he eventually let you out of his grasp, a little breathless, you flicked the bedside lamp off.

You yawned. “If you’re heading back, please slide the key under the door.”

He didn’t want to. He scooted behind you, a heavy arm around your waist.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what. The bet was that Arsenal was going to lose to Man U. Well, they didn’t, but my left nipple did.”

Your body shook with laughter. “Of course it was a football bet.”

He smiled into your hair. “Goodnight, luv.”

“Night, Simon,” you mumbled.

Pressed up against you in your soft bed, so cosy with your scent surrounding him, his eyelids soon grew heavy.

His worst demons could visit in his dreams again, but nothing was going to take him out of your bed that night. Maybe, this time, things really could be alright for once, and not only in his favourite flat in Hereford.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @astraluminaaa @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @nocturnalreader106 @sparrowgalaxy @lyenera

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moonstruckme · 8 months ago

Note

hey! could i request a james potter x reader fic pls?? i have been thinking about him specifically non stop and now i just wanna be domestic and cute with him-

Me too lovely :')

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 661 words

You’ve told James that you’re painting your toenails on the kitchen counter because it has good light, but he knows it’s really because you want to be near him. He’ll have to clean the counter again after you go, but he’s not complaining. He wants you near him too.

And anyway, the kitchen does have good light. It streams in through the window to tangle in your hair and glance off your skin, illuminating the concentrated set to your mouth as you bend over your foot on the counter.

James kisses you lightly, and one corner of your lips quirks up like you’re trying to stop it but can’t quite manage. You taste sweet and a bit tart.

“Don’t mess me up,” you warn. “This is my last coat, it’s do or die.”

“Stop eating my blackberries,” he counters, “and we’ll see. No promises.”

You finish with your nails, setting the brush back in the polish and nabbing another blackberry from his bowl. James gasps, betrayed though not surprised. He pinches your side.

You laugh, leaning away from him fruitlessly. “Stop, I’m going to knock polish onto the rug!”

“You could at least vary your snacking,” James says. “My fruit salad is going to have hundreds of pieces of melon and two blackberries if you keep on like this.”

“I just like blackberries best.”

“So does Remus,” he chides with no real severity. “And when he gets here later today and they’re all gone, who do you think will be blamed?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, smiling angelically. “He doesn’t need to know there were going to be blackberries in here to begin with, does he?” you ask. The hope in your voice sparkles like sunshine off the ocean.

James caves instantly at that tone, but he pretends to take at least a second to mull it over before capitulating. “Fair enough. Have at them, lovie. Leave no trace.”

You descend like a hawk upon your prey, clawing through the bowl of fruit and popping blackberry after blackberry into your mouth.

“I’m thinking of going to the store in a bit,” you say.

James grins down at his cutting board, slicing the skin off a wedge of cantaloupe. “To replenish Remus’ blackberry supply?” he asks. He knows you’re too tenderhearted to truly rob his friend of something he enjoys; you’d be racked with guilt for the rest of the night.

“To get lemons for lemonade.” You touch your big toe delicately, testing the dryness of your polish. “And if I stumble upon blackberries that look good while I’m there…” You shrug, turning away from him like you think you can hide your smile. As if he can’t hear it in your voice. “Then maybe I’ll grab some. To keep the peace.”

James reaches over and grips your foot, channeling as much love as he can fit into a good squeeze. You gasp and nearly shriek when his thumb digs into a ticklish spot on your arch, grabbing onto his shoulder to keep from tipping off the counter. He sets a hand on your side to help, and he can feel your ribs shaking as you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry,” James laughs. “I forgot about that spot.” He didn’t. “Wait for me to finish and we’ll go together, yeah?”

Your nose scrunches with your smile. “Why, you wanna keep an eye on the blackberries?”

“I was thinking we’d just get extra,” he proposes.

You hum contentedly, and he takes the invitation to get further into your space, his hip bumping against your leg. “That’s very chivalrous of you,” you reply, your teasing softened by fondness.

“Well, I do try. Pretty girls need to be kept happy, yeah?”

You laugh again, grabbing James’ face in both hands. He knows when you let go, there’ll be sticky purple fingerprints on both of his cheeks. He doesn’t mind.

“Flirt,” you accuse.

James pushes forward until his nose is pressed up against yours. “Only for you.”

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dawnoftime22 · 8 months ago

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thief.

| N.R

Warnings: None

Summary: When you go about making your meal for breakfast, it had mysteriously disappeared, leading to an obvious suspect of a redhead.

Word Count: 784

Category: fluff<3

A/N: I've missed writing fluff very very much and this was for @ncsdlr, inspired by their post of nat so here's a cute short little fic about it :]

| Started on 06/03/2024, 5:53 AM |

| Finished on 06/03/2024, 8:58 AM |

Main Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

“What's yours is mine, is it not?"

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You stood in the kitchen, making a delicious sandwich for breakfast and maybe even to enjoy later after training if you don't finish.

At the moment, you were alone up until Thor walks in, going off to the pantry cabinet, assumingly looking for a poptart or cereal for his morning breakfast.

You turn from your plate of sandwich, walking to the fridge and opening it to grab some water. But when you close it and go back to take a bite of your food, it had disappeared, only a few crumbs of the bread and the sauce you put a trace of evidence of your sandwich that once existed right there.

"What the...Where did my sandwich go?" Your voice was full of confusion and shock as you blink, staring at it. Then, you look around, and notice Thor first, standing in the kitchen with you.

"Thor," you say, your expression deadpanned, and he pops his head out from behind the cabinet door, his mouth open in the way you called his name. He hadn't done anything, and even just by the tone of your voice, he knew you were accusing him of something.

Then he notices your empty plate that had a delicious looking sandwich he once saw when he walked in. You couldn't have finished it in seconds. That's when he figured out why you looked a little ticked.

"I did no such thing! I have been standing right here, and my hands are empty." He gestured with his hands, his face in utter disbelief. Your eyebrows furrow further in thought.

"Who is it then?" You raised your hands, your eyes still focused on him. He grabs a box of pop tarts out from the cabinet, opening it to slide a packet out. He looks up at you before going to the microwave, but he stops in his tracks.

"Just make...another one." He pauses in between his words as he notices a redhead passing by, holding an oddly similar sandwich to yours, chewing carelessly. He was too afraid to point it out, knowing the assassin might just kill him if he does.

But you see his eyes following something behind you rather than looking directly at you, so you slowly turn to look at who was there.

A small gasp escapes you. Natasha, stood right beside your empty plate, having come from nowhere. She was staring right at you, holding the exact sandwich you had just made minutes ago, that had disappeared.

"Thief," you exclaim, walking closer to the kitchen island where she's at and putting your hand on it, holding yourself against it. She swallows before speaking up.

"It's not stealing if you left it there," she shrugs, the sandwich moving along with her hand, and you had to process her words for a moment until you let out a small laugh.

"That's the same thing." You tilt your head slightly as you said it, her sentence making no sense. If it was anyone else, you might have already chased them around the room already to retrieve your sandwich.

"Why didn't you just make one yourself?" Thor had left the kitchen by now, enjoying his pop tart by himself while you and Nat continued your playful conversation.

"It's not the same," she says, and at that, you shake your head. Her face was calm, but her eyes held a hint of teasing.

"Well, then, you could have just asked," you mumble. Nat stays quiet, studying your face. She could have just asked, but she also loved poking at you for fun.

"Now I need to make another one." You complained as you pick up your plate, about to go grab the loaf of bread once again while your stomach complained at the late breakfast.

"You can have it back." She holds out the sandwich to you, even though it was clear she had already eaten more than you thought she had.

"No, you've already had a bite of it, keep it." Or more so, multiple bites. You wave your free hand that wasn't holding the plate dismissively, not minding since it was well...Nat, but you were a tinge upset.

She sees the adorable pout your face held, and a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"I'll make one for you, how's that?" Nat stands up from the barstool standing tall for the kitchen island, moving to the counters to grab the ingredients. When she turns her head to look over her shoulder, she takes your smile as an acceptance.

Later on, the two of you enjoyed your sandwiches that you had, one being 'accidentally' made for the other, and one being especially made for the other.

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

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @justanotherteenpoet @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @animealways @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp

#🥀 dawn’s collection #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff imagines

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gayofthefae · 5 days ago

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Similarly to how El has that progression of eating Eggos less onscreen and having it often tied to Mike - with her not touching them at breakfast then leaving before they come at the diner -

I also just noticed that while in season 1, Mike loves waffles too, in season 4, we see him make breakfast in the toaster on his way out the door and - instead of a writers' nod to her - he's making pop tarts (while arguing about his flight to see her - "no sweetie pie"). Then, at the Byers, I checked with the guess that maybe he had waffles but just didn't eat them like her but nope, in fact, he just has toast instead.

As of season 4, Mike has moved on from Eggos. He repeatedly chooses things over them, while El is just beginning to leave them when offered to her.

Edit:

And this apparently! @myloverdior

#the waffles are each other get it #toast is will ig #and poptarts are gay no elaboration needed on that one /j #that last one was a joke but his food progression being el then queerness then will does totally work #elmike symbolism #food meta #stranger things #elmike meta #mike wheeler #byler #mike el parallels #anti milkvan #elmike details

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s-coquette · 10 months ago

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thinking about @charliemwrites mean ghost!!

charlie is literally one of my favourite writers on here, any thought™️ that crosses their mind makes me get brain worms. this is my first time writing anything like this so i hope it isn’t a complete disaster :,)

Johnny gets sent out on deployment without Simon for a couple weeks. This mission needing his demolitions expertise more than anything else. Leaving poor you to face Simon’s wrath alone.

While Johnny is home it’s easy to avoid him. Just hunker down next to the Scotsman and deal with his clingy and annoying self, anything but having to interact with the mammoth of a man.

He’d barely glance at you at first, leaving you to Johnnys care, having him bathe you, dress you, hold you, basically a small child with its new favourite doll.

You thought that the piercing gazes he sent you with his honey brown eyes were an indication of how much he hated you. Maybe you were getting too much of his boys attention? Were you hogging him? Were you acting out in some way that you hadn’t noticed? All of this made you extremely nervous to be in Simon’s presence, hearing him breathe next to you sent shivers down your spine.

The air was tense around you, the giant man in front of you made you feel like he was taking up all of the oxygen in the room. Casting a shadow over you from where he stood, a foot away.

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

The loud drawl of his Manchester accent and raw voice made your chest shake. You snapped your eyes back at him, realising you spaced out in fear. His arm, which was probably wider than your head, reached out behind you.

“Wh-“

A dawn of realisation fell on you when you heard a glass clink behind your head. You were standing there like an idiot while he was trying to grab a mug.

“I’m sorry-“

You slinked back to the other end of the kitchen, your pop tarts left on the counter next to him. It felt like poking the bear to even try to reach for them.

Simon’s eyebrow quirked in response, like he was waiting for something as you stared at him leaning against the marble countertops.

“I’m- I’m sorry, sir.”

You think you saw his lips curl up under the simple black balaclava when he heard the loud panicked inhale from you, in the addition of your eyes stinging with tears.

His eyes fell down to the opened bag of sweets you left on the counter, which you were munching on without even heating up. His sight then fell on you, chewing on your lip in fear while staring at the same thing.

“Y’want this?”

His calloused big fingers reached around and grabbed the pop tarts, throwing them up in the air unceremoniously and showing them off to you, like a forbidden fruit.

“N-Nevermind, I’m not hungry anymore-“

You tried to hurry out before his loud booming voice interrupted you.

“Hold on, you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

You freeze, slowing turning on your heels and staring at him.

“C’mere, kitty.”

You gulp and stare at him, his piercing stare making your hands shake.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His voice now cold, eyes narrowing. That was the only sign you needed to spring to action. Almost throwing yourself across the island, you stood in front of him again. The situation somehow even tenser than before.

“Now be a good kitty and meow for me, then you’ll get your treat.”

You could hear the smug smirk in his voice without even having to see it. A cold sweat washed over you as you thought about what to do to escape this situation.

“I’m listening.”

His tone warning again.

“meow..”

The little peep that left you seemed to give him great entertainment as you watched his eyes crinkles like he was grinning.

“I ought to teach you some manners since the mutt clearly can’t.”

You frowned at what he meant by ‘teach’, not even wanting to imagine it.

Your endless thoughts were interrupted by getting smacked in the chest with your unfinished bag of pop tarts, scrambling to grab at them before they fell on the floor.

“Now scram.”

And you did just that.

#s writes 🎀#ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mw2

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

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🧁 cupcake analysis 🧁

YES, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY 🤡 I’m still fixated on the cute character-themed cupcakes we got from the recent TsumTsums x TWST collab… so I’m going to talk about more things I noticed in the cupcake designs by dorm + by individual characters!

Mmm, cupcakes… 🧁 I would make these if only I had the tools to make all of the painstaking little details—

Heartslabyul

They all have checkered cupcake liners with a half-painted white rose. Famous Heartslabyul iconography!

Their names are written out in a white cursive font. Not the wackiest they could have gone with, but it fits the whimsical style of these cupcakes.

Riddle

Of course, we have strawberries—a fruit from Riddle’s favorite dessert, his beloved strawberry tarts (which also have personal significance to him, being as it was a strawberry tart’s taste that entranced him and made him late to return home as a child). The ring of frosting piped around the strawberries kind of creates the illusion of a tart’s puff pastry with the fruit nesting inside.

Red frosting made with a piping tip to resemble a big rose! Again, more famous Heartslabyul iconography.

IT HAS RIDDLE’S HEART AHOGE 😭

The cupcake also has the crown and a ribbon similar to the ones he wears in his Dorm Uniform~

Unlike the other Heartslabyul cupcakes, Riddle’s is predominantly one color: red. This could be referring to how Riddle is the most rigid in the dorm and someone who demands uniformity and preaches absolutism (“follow the rules”, “paint all the roses red”, etc.).

Even so! There are still little gold and blue sprinkles (though still in a neat arrangement)! I like to think of them as sprinkles of hope and a willingness to change… the first step he’s taking outside of his comfort zone!

No card; this makes sense since Riddle is also the only one without a card suit mark on his face.

Trey

The cookie iced to look like his hat…

Another cookie iced to look like the three of clubs heart (for obvious reasons)!

Trey’s cupcake looks kinda fuzzy like moss, so that leads me to believe the frosting got dipped in sanding sugar to give it texture or something. This makes the cupcake look like it’s an unassuming shrub—and really, isn’t that what Trey claims to be? He’s not an exciting red rose like Riddle, he’s the mild-mannered “normal” guy there to support the flower as the leaves and shoots.

Sugared violets as a topping! Nice way of incorporating Trey’s favorite food into this.

He has a little dusting of sprinkles too; maybe because it was him that showed Riddle “a whole new world”.

There seems to be a layer of jagged chunks (maybe crushed pistachios) along the rim. Feels quite different than the rest of the cake—maybe it’s to represent the less kind side of himself that Trey sometimes alludes to.

Two cookie sticks, which remind me of like two spears crossing to block off a path to the queen. On-brand for Trey, who initially follows Riddle’s orders to a T and kicks out his rule-breaking underclassmen.

Cater

There’s a LOT going on here, and I wonder if that’s in part because Cater is a Magicam fiend and in part because he’s using his flashiness to distract from looking deeper into him. This cupcake reflects that idea well, especially with the colorful sprinkles in the center (as opposed to spread out like Trey or Riddle’s) to make the otherwise mainly orange and red cake pop out more on a social media feed. It also could mean that Cater really keeps to himself, as the sprinkles are not spread outward.

If you look closely, the frosting vaguely resembles Cater’s hair. There’s a larger dollop in the middle which sort of looks like the middle section of his hair that’s pulled back.

There’s lots of little decorations that resembles the decorations on Cater’s phone case—an item near and dear to his heart.

The orange slices can be sweet—the impression that Cater tries to give off—but the pretzel implies a savory taste—what he actually prefers to eat.

There’s a squiggle of darker orange under his name. Is it to call attention to his identity? Cater tries to seek validation and attention from socials, so maybe this is a call to action.

Cater’s cupcake is the only one in his entire dorm that has TWO cards (both four of diamonds). One is probably a cookie and is in full color whole the other is one solid color (brown) and made of chocolate. Most likely this is referring to his UM, which allows Cater to create clones of himself. I wonder if the second card being chocolate alludes to something else too… Namely, the more melancholy and downtrodden part of himself that Cater usually does not let his peers know about 😔

Also two cookie sticks! Similar meaning as Trey’s, especially given that Cater was the first upperclassman to toss Adeuce out (after he gets them to paint the roses for him).

Ace

Ace of hearts card!

A sprinkle of hearts… Are any of us surprised??

His frosting is very ruffled and playful, much like his personality.

The cupcake is more on the simple side compared to many of the others; this is also very “Ace” of him, as Ace is commonly described as “the average high school boy” and has indicated himself that he has no particular goals or ambitions yet.

There’s a cherry on top! Very bright and cheeky, just like Ace—oh, and let’s not forget, cherry pie is his favorite food!

There’s also what appears to be almond shavings on Ace’s cupcake; almonds are actually very closely related to cherries so it’s a great pairing! If we really wanna stretch it, maybe it’s a reference to how Ace is skilled at mimicking or copying others, as the taste/smell of almond and cherries can be commonly mistaken for one another.

Deuce

Two of spades card!

Deuce’s cupcake has a very different texture to it. Unlike the others, his is very smoothed out and almost shiny (like a mirror glazed cake!). It makes me think this is to help him stand out as someone who is trying to reform and reinvent himself into something sparkling—especially seeing as the blue part of the cake seems to be covering up/glooping over the body of the cupcake itself.

Little candy eggs (one with a crack in it) and a baby chick! A callback to him liking egg dishes and the utter despair he experienced when he first learned that supermarket eggs aren’t fertilized…

The light blue squiggle makes me think of Deuce meandering and not knowing where he wants to go in life, representative of his delinquent phase or perhaps struggling to stay on the straight and narrow path of an honors student.

Finally, we have the grey marks on the cupcake which look like tire marks left from skidding around on a magical wheel/blastcycle, Deuce’s preferred mode of transportation!

Deuce's cupcake goes from blonde/yellowish to blue, which probably refers to him going from bleached hair as a delinquent to his natural hair color as he tries to reform himself.

Savanaclaw

Golden yellow cupcake liners with Savanaclaw’s signature horizontal zigzag pattern.

Their names seem to be done in a blocky text on chocolate. Fits the tough, somewhat rigid hierarchical feel of the dorm.

Leona

A crescent moon-shaped candy invokes the imagery of Scar singing the final line to Be Prepared as he and the hyenas ready themselves for the coup.

The darker frosting swirled on the side be interpreted as his scar or maybe the end of his tail.

Cacao nibs kind of remind me of rocks, perhaps to symbolize the hard childhood Leona had, desperately trying to prove himself to people who didn’t like him in the first place. There’s notably also golden specks there—a ray of hope for him to be better? Or maybe a nod to his noble lineage.

The chocolate sauce makes this cupcake feel very decadent but also adds to the dark look of it. I would say it resembles blot, but none of the other OB boys have this same feature. Maybe a hint at Leona’s depressive traits?

Wishful thinking on my part, but Leona’s cupcake is the only one in his dorm with a large splash of green (thanks to the leaves there). I like to think it’s him “turning over a new leaf” and turning his sights onto his internship + working toward helping to help preserve nature and discover energy efficient methods to help his country.

His cupcake is the “tallest” in Savanaclaw (because of how high his frosting is)—he’s obviously the leader of the pack.

Ruggie

Very decadent cupcake. A large scoop of ice-cream, nuts, pastries, tons of cream and frosting… it looks like someone just piled on all their favorite desserts (which suits a glutton like him). Even his own cake looks like it’s about to burst out of the liner!

Two donuts inserted in, because 1) they’re Ruggie’s favorite and 2) two is better than one!

The scattered chunks of chocolate resemble the pattern on the coat of a spotted hyena, which is what Ruggie is.

Jack

WHY DOES HIS CUPCAKE JUST STRAIGHT UP LOOK LIKE HIM… The two paler frosting peaks are his ears, the two-tone swirl results in his hair but also results in the high peak of his tail.

This cupcake has a lot of nuts (I see a walnut, a cashew, maybe crushed peanuts, and many whole hazelnuts). Maybe because Jack is “a tough nut to crack” due to his stoic and standoffish attitude? But we all know he’s a sweetheart deep down, perhaps why the most abundant of these nuts is hazelnuts, often used in many desserts and especially paired with chocolate.

xvsjwveiwk This is a slightly unserious note but there’s something whitish that night be dried coconut??? Sprinkled on the cake… I-Is that Jack shedding/j

Octavinelle

Each Octavinelle cupcake has a black macaron decorated to resemble their dorm uniform hats! The filling is purple (like Octa’s usual color) and has candy pearls (since they’re from the sea).

Their names are written in an elegant flowing font, with emphasis on the first letter of their names (slightly bigger than the other letters). It provides an impression that differs from the other letters in their names, much like how the Octatrio themselves can be deceptive.

A bowtie that matches what each boy wears in his dorm uniform.

The sprinkling of little purple pearls could really be nothing, but they could also be all the powers/abilities they have collected together.

Azul

The single chocolate stick (not two, unlike Cater and Trey’s) could pass as a straw, making the whole cupcake appear like a drink. Makes sense, the Mostro Lounge has a 1 drink minimum + his Dorm Uniform vignette is all about how he wants to buy the rights for the popular Mystery Drink from Sam.

A little contract and writhing chocolate tentacles pair nicely together. Together, they represent his UM and how his tendrils reach out to pull people into deals.

Azul also has a scoop of ice-cream, but it is notably VERY different looking than Ruggie’s. Azul’s is much smaller (because he moderates what he eats and how much) and neater too (because he cares about his tidy appearance).

There is a swirl of purple frosting on the bottom but most of the frosting is white and piled high. The former must be Ursula’s skin, and the latter her hair, as it is similar in shape.

His cupcake liner has the widest stripes (because he used to be overweight in the past) and has little purple dots (maybe in reference to the suctions on his tentacles).

Azul keeps the spiral seashell that resembles Ursula’s necklace.

Azul's cupcake goes from purple to white, which may denote his transition from octopus merman to human.

Tweels

The twins have a scalloped seashell that splits in half, representing the other brother. The way the shell divets also makes it look like a heart shape, implying the brothers “share a heart” or perhaps calling back to how both of their UMs involve “the heart” (Shock/Bind the Heart).

Their frosting is the color of their hair, even containing a stripe of black (in opposite directions) to match their hair. The frosting also seems to be slightly textured, which matches the gills and scales on their merforms.

The peak of the frosting resembles the ends of their eel tails flicking in opposite directions.

Three diamond-shaped “scales” on each cupcake; this is ghe same shape and design as the earrings they wear.

A ring of purple frosting is included; this could represent Azul, someone whom the twins closely work with and consider a great source of amusement. It’s telling that the purple frosting is below the teal frosting, as the twins have made it clear before that they’re not his minions or “below” him, they act independently and choose to follow Azul because they want to (and have the agency to leave whenever).

Jade

Jade’s cupcake liner has the most numerous and thinnest vertical stripes. There is also a very fine zigzag running through the liner. Very similar to Jade’s teeth arrangement and how they present as small but frequent.

Jade's cupcake stays a consistent color throughout the creation process.

Floyd

Floyd’s cupcake liner is in the middle of Azul and Jade’s in terms of line spread and thickness. The zigzag is also more elongated than Jade’s, matching Floyd’s more easygoing personality between the two twins. He’s also more likely to show his full teeth!

Floyd's cupcake goes from gold to teal, but Jade does not do the same or even the reverse. Maybe this hints at how Floyd is the more fickle brother?

Scarabia

Scarabia cupcake liners are color blocked with solid black and a deep red with an intricate golden pattern. Matches their dorm uniforms well!

They have snake biscuits with their names in bold, blocky all capital letters for impact. The biscuit shape suits the Sorcerer of the Sands. The text choice… I’m not sure, maybe to match the “casual streetwear” style of the dorm…? Or the dorm leader’s brazenness and overt friendliness?

Kalim

His earrings have been made into an edible version!

Thumbprint cookies that resemble glistening jewels! This, plus the colorful sugar pearls, represents Kalim’s immense wealth.

There’s a bow tied around his cupcake liner, which matches the cloth he wears around his head in many outfits of his.

The feathers that transition in color are for Kalim’s love of animals and willingness to accept others of all kinds (“colors”). This could also be a reference to his Dorm Uniform vignettes, where he pulled off a trick that made white birds appear to be “rainbow”.

At first I thought the white puffy frosting was to look like the Sultan’s turban, but wouldn’t they make it smoother and resemble one cohesive lump in that case…? Then I realized the white frosting actually resembles a CLOUD 😭 which fits Kalim so well, since he takes his friends out on magic carpet rides…

The red peak poking out of the top could be like… the domed roof of a tower, since there is one both for the Sultan’s palace and in Scarabia dorm. The white sprinkles/coconut shreds on the red part also gives the impression that the roof just poked through the clouds www

VERY tiny detail but if you look closely you’ll notice that Kalim’s cupcake is… lumpy… almost as though he tried baking for the first time himself and messed it up a little, so Jamil took over decorating for him to cover up the mistakes. (That’s headcanon anyway, lol)

Jamil

Jamil’s cupcake is a two-tone twirl thar matches the colors of his dorm AND the turban he wears when he overblots.

We have the classic red feather, three golden orbs, and a thumprint cookie (again, resembling a jewel) to match Kalim’s and to match Jamil’s hair accessories!

The little bits of gold sprinkled around are hard to place but maybe it’s to show how Jamil has to put Kalim first and foremost while his own feelings get dismissed/belittled/treated as less important.

Large chunks of chocolate on top! Not sure what this could be, but a part of me wants to believe it’s his depressive or defeatist traits, since Leona also has chocolate, but scattered. (Can you tell I loved these two’s interactions in book 6?)

Finally, we come to the enigmatic and out-of-place golden squiggle. Someone as meticulous as Jamil couldn’t possibly have intentionally placed that there, right…? Allow me, if you will, to circle back to the “Kalim was trying to bake with Jamil” theory… What if, while Jamil was decorating Kalim’s cupcake to cover up the unevenness of the cake, Kalim tried to thank Jamil and repay the favor by decorating Jamil’s cupcake??? And it resulted in… that squiggle… so Jamil had to roll with it and make the rest of his cupcake look as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

Pomefiore

All Pomefiore names are written in elegant script on a chocolate disc that is also stamped with the stars and moons of their dorm.

The cupcake liners have the same stars and moons pattern and has the colors of Pomefiore.

Vil

Similar to Riddle, Vil has a crown to show that he is the dorm leader. His is, of course, a different design to reflect a different queen (the Fairest Queen, not the Queen of Hearts).

The frosting has a slight gradient which is the same as the tips his hair.

The golden leaves match the leaves on the back of his dorm leader tiara/crown.

There are berries on top; notably, a red one still has a bit of leaf and branch stuck to it, making the berry look like a red apple (you know, cuz the Evil Queen used one to poison Snow White).

Vil has golden dust and two types of round candies evenly dispersed on the cupcake. It shows us how clean and yet elegant his personal style is.

Rook

Rook's cupcake has a very unique shape that is not quite like any other student's. Indeed, his cupcake resembles his hat (note the little feather sticking out of the top purple part) and bangs (the lower yellow part).

The purple part looks like it is made with an extruder and results in a texture similar to the top of a mont blanc; this is probably to help differentiate it from the smoother texture of the yellow beneath. Since the purple is a hat, the texture is most likely to make it seem more "fabric-like".

The yellow part + the color change from yellow to purple may also be a reference to how he was originally in Savanaclaw, but then transferred to Pomefiore.

An edible bow and arrow motif befitting of a skilled huntsman!

The squiggle line here seems to be showing the path of his arrow, which always finds its mark. Additionally, Rook himself is a tricky person and usually employs roundabout strategies or misdirecting ways to achieve his goals.

At the end of the arrow's path is a cluster of what seems to be pomegranate seeds, which seems odd and something more befitting of Idia or Ortho (who have ties with Hades; there is a tale about Hades having Persephone eat a pomegranate fruit which dooms her to spending half of her time in the Underworld). However, I think here the pomegranate seeds are meant to be... like... an artistic, abstract depiction of blood once the arrow strikes its target.

There's blueberries on top, an element he has in common with Vil (someone whom he devotes himself to). The leaves here with the berries tie Rook to the wild, both as a huntsman and has an ex-Savanaclaw student.

Epel

The pale purple color of the frosting is the same as Epel’s hair!

Unlike Vil’s sprinkled-on decorations, Epel’s are not spread out evenly and instead cluster at the top. This may be attributed to their different levels of maturity, as Vil and more knowledgable than Epel, who expresses outdated views on gender and has a limited understanding of the world due to coming from a very rural area.

There’s a fine shimmer on Epel’s cupcake—probably because his arc in book 5 was about learning to appreciate and weaponize his beauty.

Two apple slices because… well, when you think of Epel, you think of apples and the Felmier family business!

There seems to be a little bit of yellow peaking out from the cake? Are those more apple slices or an apple filling…?

The pale frilled strip of frosting resembles a lace collar, something which Epel wears in his school uniform.

Epel is the only member of Pomefiore to have a cupcake which LACKS a blueberry (or really any berries at all). This is a subtle indication that he is the “odd one out” within the dorm, as he, unlike Rook, is not conforming to the standards set by his dorm leader.

Ignihyde

The Ignihyde cupcake liner has the same black and blue geometric look as their dorm uniform jackets.

I don’t know how to really describe the font their names are written in, but the way the letters are cut reminds me of a “Greek” style of text (similar to this).

Their names seem to be displayed on Oreos chocolate sandwich cookies with Ignihyde blue fillings. Counting the parts (2 cookies, the cream filling), there’s three in total, which matches the count of the heads of Cerberus, as well as how many Shroud brothers there are.

Both Idia and Ortho have what look to be confetti cakes as the base for their cupcakes, Because of the dark color of the cake and the bright color of the sprinkles, it creates the impression of stars in the night sky—maybe to reference Star Rogue, their favorite video game.

Idia

The skull-shaped technomantic device Ida uses to launch his magic spells tops off his cupcake.

On either side of the skull device are candies (?) that look like the same light sticks Idia is super into waving around at his beloved idols’ concerts.

The blue frosting is meant to look like his fiery hair!

Idia’s cupcake goes from a red gradient to a blue one. His hair actually goes change color like this based (on his mood), We’ve seen his hair go from blue to red from anger and/or determination and passion in both book 7 and in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

Ortho

This cupcake seems to represent both the deceased Ortho and the current android Ortho.

Not sure what it is, but there’s something with a cybernetic glowing design that implies a circuit board; this is part of the internal parts which make up robo!Ortho.

There’s some kind of sauce with sprinkles over the top of that layer; this could be the blot that makes up phantom!Ortho, since we usually don’t associate the “dripping” of the sauce with robo!Ortho.

The smaller dollop of blue frosting is Ortho’s fiery blue hair. He’s smaller and younger than Idia, so the flames do not consume the entire cupcake. (Alternatively, this could also be the fire-shaped bottle that serves as phantom!Ortho’s head.)

Under the frosting is a cookie and a thin ring which resembles the ring of glowing triangles that appears around robo!Ortho’s neck. A similar pattern appears around the neck of phantom!Ortho.

This cupcake’s cake is a lighter color than Idia’s cake. It also has a larger variety in the sprinkle colors, maybe as a nod to Ortho’s cheerier and more hopeful personality compared to Idia’s gloomier and pessimistic one.

Diasomnia

The Diasomnia cupcake liners are black with a green briar pattern.

Each student’s name is piped in chocolate, with the third years in white and the underclassmen in what seems to be milk chocolate.

The cupcakes seem to be malformed or sort of puffy like Kalim’s is. I wonder if that means Lilia roped all of his kids to bake with him as a bonding exercise www

Malleus

Malleus’s cupcake goes from Diasomnia green to black (the royal color of the Draconia bloodline), symbolizing the eventual transition he must make from student to king of his country.

The frosting on top is the same colors as he night sky sprinkled with silver stars. Malleus likes to take solitary strolls under the cover of night, so this suits him.

Malleus wouldn’t be Hornton/Tsunotaro without the horns! Of course we’ve gotta include a chocolate version of his iconic horns.

Extra frosting in a bright green; these are meant to be Malleus’s apocalyptic green fire that he spouts.

There’s a purple grape cut into two (I’m sure Rollo would be furious/j) to reveal the green insides. How curious! These colors are also considered accent colors for Maleficent. Another nice detail about the grapes is that the veining of the flesh makes the insides resemble reptilian eyes—like those of a dragon.

Lilia

The frosting is black for Lilia’s hair and has magenta (berry?) sauce to reflect his hair streaks.

Lots of berries (Lilia loves his berry juice) and irregular pink sprinkles or candy shards. It’s cute, punky, and whimsical, just like he is.

Chocolate bats for the bats that swarm Lilia in many animations. He’s also shown taking care of a bat in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

I’ve been trying to figure out what the whole cream is… My best guess is they’re representing Malleus, Sebek, and Silver??? Silver and Sebek are the smaller two dollops since they grew up and trained together + are the most immature of the group. Malleus is the big, textured swirl on the left—he is older and more powerful than Sebek and Silver. This analogy also works when you consider that these three sit upon Lilia (the cupcake), who is the oldest and serves as the father figure and foundation for their dorm to get along with each other and with others.

I don’t know what that ahoge-like thing is supposed to be or mean—

Silver

His cupcake goes from a deep blonde/yellowish brown to silver. This reflects his hair color change following Lilia’s blessing.

Silver’s cupcake has a very dreamy and cloud-like quality to it because of the abundance of pastel-colored cream. The top of the frosting even droops over, sort of like a head dropping in sleep.

Crushed bits of an aurora-colored candy are sprinkled over the cake. They’re the same color as his eyes, as well as the ring gifted to him by his parents.

Two birds and some mint (?) leaves make up the colors of the Three Good Fairies (Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather). They also speak to Silver’s familiarity with the forest creatures.

Sebek

The pastel green frosting for Sebek’s cupcakes is sloped, and it is the only one styled this way. It may represent his lopsidedly views and understanding of the world, as he is easily one of the most rigid thinking within his dorm.

Many different things are sprinkles on the cupcake; it looks like someone threw them on thinking they would look cool with very little thought or planning. It fits how brazen Sebek is and also (funnily enough) matches his struggle with the arts.

Sebek is the only student with triangular sprinkles; is this meant to look like scales?? Or maybe particles of lighting?

There’s a massive chocolate lightning bolt topping off the cupcake. Nothing subtle or tactful about it, much like Sebek’s personality and voice.

There are two pieces of sliced grape to mimic Malleus’s cupcake. Interestingly, the grape halves seem to come from entirely different kinds of grapes: one green (unlike Malleus’s), the other red (like Malleus’s). Assuming the red half (which Malleus has two of) implies fae heritage (Malleus is full fae), then the green half is one’s human heritage. The grapes, then, denote Sebek being of half fae, half human descent.

Extra

Grim

He has a unique black and white vertically striped cupcake liner to represent Ramshackle dorm!

Grim’s name is written on a cookie that looks like a puffy manga text box. Makes sense, he’s usually being the mouth piece for Yuu when they don’t get dialogue options or even when they do.

Seems to be covered in sanding sugar to achieve the fuzzy texture of fur!

Little wafer (?) shaped like Grim’s tail! And cookies (?) iced to resemble his ears! Two paw prints 🥺 to match Grim’s toe beans… The cupcake truly is made in his image!!

The white shell border is probably a stand-in for the white tuft of fur that Grim has.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst tsumtsums #twisted wonderland tsumtsums #twst tsumtsum #twisted wonderland tsumtsum #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #Heartslabyul #Grim #Savanaclaw #Octavinelle #Scarabia #Pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia

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solxamber · 1 month ago

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Hello! I saw your fic(?) On the reader being similar to the white rabbit!

So I had a similar idea but with absolem the caterpillar from Alice in wonderland. With heartslabyul, octavinelle and pomefiore (added on maybe chenya ?). Basically the reader is a 2nd year and is a very cocky person when it comes to things like subjects they get high scores in along with having bad anger issues? This is just an idea I have at the top of my head 😅 I also don't make requests often if that was clear lol.

Thank you if reading my request ! :)

It's been so long since I read Alice in Wonderland but I hope this is what you wanted <3

Absolem! Reader with Heartslabyul, Octavinelle and Pomefiore + Che'nya

Rest of the characters: here

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle Rosehearts had no idea how to handle you. On one hand, you were technically a model student—when you weren’t terrorizing everyone with your arrogance, that is. On the other hand, your cocky attitude made his eye twitch like he was seconds away from writing up a whole new rule just for your ego.

“You may have gotten the highest score in Alchemy,” Riddle said stiffly, his hands clenched behind his back like he was bracing himself for an incoming tidal wave of sass, “but that does not excuse you from following protocol during experiments!"

You leaned back in your chair, all smug grin and half-lidded eyes. “Oh, Riddle, Riddle, Riddle. If I followed your ‘protocol,’ we’d still be stuck trying to figure out how to transmute lead into potatoes.”

His face flushed as red as a rose. “That is not the point!”

“I’m just saying,” you replied with a shrug, “your rules are cute, but some of us prefer actual results.”

There was a long, tension-filled silence. Then, Riddle’s lips twitched, and you could almost hear his brain rewriting Rule 392: No Sassing The Dorm Leader.

Trey Clover

If Trey had a talent, it was the ability to defuse a situation with nothing more than a laid-back smile and a soft-spoken word or two. But when it came to your outbursts, even Trey occasionally had to roll up his sleeves.

“You’re getting pretty fired up over here, huh?” Trey said, folding his arms and giving you that calm, big-brother smile.

You narrowed your eyes. “They just don’t get it, Trey. If they’d actually listen to me, we’d be done with these stupid group projects in half the time.”

Trey hummed, still as placid as ever. “Maybe. Or maybe they just don’t appreciate being called ‘incompetent cabbage heads’ every time they mess up.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t call them that this time.”

“Oh, my mistake. That was last week.” Trey chuckled, grabbing a cupcake from a tray. “Anyway, maybe you should try a new approach. Like, I don’t know... baking?”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Is this another one of your ‘therapy via baked goods’ attempts? Because the last time I tried, Cater put the whole thing on Magicam, and I’m still seeing memes about ‘exploding tarts.’”

Trey just smiled knowingly. “Everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”

Cater Diamond

“#MoodSwings, am I right?”

Cater had this incredible (and incredibly annoying) ability to pop up just when you were about to lose it. Today was no different. You were fuming over some insignificant thing someone said in class, and right when you were about to explode, there he was, phone at the ready.

“I swear, if you tag me in another one of your posts—” you started, but he was already snapping pics, duck-lip selfie style.

“Whoa, chill, bestie! It’s not my fault you’ve got that ‘rage extrodinaire’ aesthetic. The followers eat it up. Seriously, you should start a channel. #CaterToYourAnger.”

You glared. “I’d start with a video called ‘How to Get Away with Smashing Cater’s Phone.’”

Cater grinned, absolutely unfazed. “Aww, love you too, cupcake. Just think of all the likes we’d get!”

Ace Trappola

Ace? Oh, Ace lived to rile you up. He thrived on it like a plant soaking in the sun.

“So,” he said, leaning back against the wall with a smug grin, “I heard you were bragging about your Potions grade again. Shocking.”

You glared daggers at him. “I don’t have to brag. The results speak for themselves. Unlike your grades, which are probably hiding in the shadow of your last failed test.”

“Oof, that’s cold. You sure you’re not secretly studying Ice Magic?” Ace shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know, all that boasting is just you overcompensating for something. Like, maybe you’re secretly terrible at everything else?”

Your temper flared instantly, and you stepped closer, ready to unleash your wrath. “Say that again, and I’ll show you what happens when—”

“Oh, hold on—Deuce! Hey, Deuce!” Ace shouted, and before you could lay into him, Deuce was running over, looking confused and ready to brawl for no reason.

“Are we fighting? We’re fighting, right?” Deuce asked, fists already up.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Deuce, no one’s fighting.”

“Yet,” Ace muttered with a wink, and you had to resist the urge to scream.

Deuce Spade

Deuce tried. He really did. But no matter how hard he tried to match your fiery personality, he just couldn’t seem to get it quite right.

“You know, I’ve been practicing too,” Deuce said one day, puffing out his chest like he was about to impress you. “I’m getting better at Transfiguration!”

You blinked. “Really? Didn’t you turn someone’s textbook into a chicken by accident last week?”

Deuce’s face turned red. “I-It wasn’t a chicken! It was... okay, maybe it was a chicken, but I’m improving!”

“Sure you are,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I bet your next experiment will turn the whole dorm into a petting zoo.”

Deuce stared at you for a moment, clearly weighing his options. “...That would actually be kinda cool.”

You facepalmed. “Deuce, please.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul wasn’t intimidated by your cockiness. No, in fact, he saw it as something to be... monetized. Because why not take that overblown confidence of yours and turn it into something profitable for the Mostro Lounge?

“You could be quite the business partner,” Azul remarked, smiling slyly from across his desk. “With your top grades and undeniable talent, I’m sure students would pay handsomely for tutoring sessions.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

Azul feigned innocence. “Catch? Why, there’s no catch at all. Just a little... arrangement. I take a modest percentage of the profits, and in return, you gain access to the resources of the Mostro Lounge. Think of it as... a mutually beneficial partnership.”

You tilted your head. “So basically, I do all the work, and you skim off the top?”

Azul’s grin widened. “A shrewd observation, but I prefer the term strategic partnership.”

Jade Leech

Jade, on the other hand, was a master of subtlety. He didn’t confront you head-on like the others did. No, Jade had this unnerving way of quietly watching you, like a predator biding its time.

“Your temper is quite fascinating,” Jade remarked one day, his eerie smile never faltering.

You crossed your arms defensively. “Fascinating how?"

“Oh, just the way it flares up so quickly. It’s almost... predictable.” He tilted his head slightly. “I wonder, how well do you control it in dangerous situations?”

“Why, are you planning to test me or something?” you asked warily, already regretting the question.

Jade chuckled softly. “Oh no, nothing of the sort. I’m merely... observing. You’re quite the specimen, after all.”

You shuddered. “Please stop talking like I’m some kind of lab rat.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd, on the other hand, lived to push your buttons. He loved it when you lost your cool because it meant you were interesting. And Floyd? He thrived on interesting.

“Oi, Shrimpy!” Floyd’s voice echoed across the lounge as he slung an arm around your shoulders. “Heard you got top marks again. Big shot, huh?”

You side-eyed him. “Don’t call me Shrimpy.”

“Awww, but I like it!” he whined, pouting dramatically. “You get all mad when I do it. It’s fun! Do it again! Get mad!”

You groaned. “Why are you like this?”

Floyd grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Why not? It’s more fun to watch you blow a gasket. Maybe I’ll squeeze ya real good next time you freak out.”

You shook him off. “No thanks, I’d rather not have my ribs crushed.”

“Awww, but that’s the best part!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil couldn’t stand your cocky attitude. Mostly because he couldn’t stand anything that was less than perfection—and in his eyes, you were far from it.

“Such arrogance,” Vil remarked, inspecting his reflection in a compact mirror as you ranted about how no one appreciated your brilliance. “It’s one thing to be talented, but it’s another thing entirely to lack grace.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. Like you’ve never been confident in your own abilities.”

Vil snapped the compact shut, finally looking at you with a sharp, withering gaze. “Confidence is one thing. Vulgarity is is another.” He raised an eyebrow, his perfect lips curving in a condescending smile. “And darling, you’re teetering dangerously close to the latter.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I’m just saying, if everyone else could keep up with me, maybe I wouldn’t have to be this way.”

Vil waved a hand dismissively. “Keep up with you? I highly doubt that. There’s a fine line between confidence and crudeness, and you’ve trampled right over it in those worn-out boots of yours.”

You glanced down at your boots, scowling. “Hey! My boots are perfectly fine!”

Vil gave you a once-over, a pitying sigh slipping from his lips. “I could recommend a stylist, but I doubt even the best could save you from that attitude of yours."

Rook Hunt

If there was anyone who found your fiery personality endlessly amusing, it was Rook. The man seemed to delight in your temper tantrums, treating them like some kind of grand performance.

“Oh, what a magnifique display of passion!” Rook exclaimed one afternoon, after you’d shouted at some poor first-year for knocking into you. “Your fire burns so brightly, it is a wonder you do not set the very air ablaze!”

You glared at him, still fuming. “I’m not trying to entertain you, Rook.”

“But you do! Oh, you do!” Rook clapped his hands together, his eyes shining with admiration. “To witness such raw emotion—it is truly a gift. You are like a tempest, sweeping all in your path.”

“Pretty sure that’s just a fancy way of saying I’m a walking disaster.”

“Non, non, non!” Rook laughed, shaking his head. “You are a force of nature, one that cannot be tamed! To tame such a spirit would be a crime against beauty itself!”

You blinked at him, unsure whether to be flattered or concerned. “Okay, sure. Whatever makes you happy, Rook.”

Epel Felmier

Epel had mixed feelings about you. On one hand, he admired your guts—your temper was something to be feared, and Epel respected that. On the other hand, you were annoying.

“You know, just ‘cause you’re good at Magic History doesn’t mean you gotta rub it in everyone’s face,” Epel grumbled one day after you’d corrected him in class. “Ain’t nobody here tryin’ to hear that.”

You leaned against the desk, a smug grin on your face. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep up. Maybe if you spent more time studying and less time trying to look tough, you’d have better grades.”

Epel’s face turned red. “I am tough! And if you say somethin’ like that again, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” You raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue.

Epel gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. “I’ll... I’ll... kick your butt in PE next time!”

You snorted. “Sure, Epel. Let me know how that goes.”

He muttered something under his breath, probably swearing revenge in the form of some country-style wrestling move, but you were already too busy planning your next academic triumph to care.

Che'nya

Of course, Che’nya didn’t mind your attitude at all. In fact, he found it downright entertaining. He’d pop up at the most inconvenient moments, grinning that mischievous grin of his and waiting for you to lose your cool.

“Nyah~ Why so serious, Y/N?” Che’nya’s voice floated down from seemingly nowhere. “All that steam comin’ outta your ears can’t be good for your health.”

You looked up, scowling as you spotted him lounging in a tree, that trademark grin never leaving his face. “What do you want, Che’nya?”

He tilted his head, blinking innocently. “Just wonderin’ if you were plannin’ to blow a gasket today. I’ve got a front-row seat!"

“Get down here before I make you,” you snapped.

“Oooh, feisty! You know, it’s a good thing you’re not in Wonderland.” He chuckled, disappearing and reappearing right beside you. “You’d fit right in with all the wild tempers down there.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you’d fit right in with the pests.”

Che’nya laughed, not the least bit offended. “Nyah~ You say the sweetest things! See ya around, Hothead.”

And with that, he disappeared again, leaving you to stew in your own frustration. Typical Che’nya.

Masterlist

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octavinelle-oyster · 4 months ago

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the vice housewardens with a kuudere reader who smiles around them for the first time? 🙇‍♀️

Characters : Trey, Jade, Jamil, Rook

Type : Headcanon, fluff

Info : gn reader, pre-established friendship Trey and Jade, Jamil could be read as pre-established friendship as well or pining, Rook is Rook

One smile and you use my heart against me ~Eva Simmons

Trey Clover

The two of you were secluded in the privacy of Heartslabyul’s kitchen, preparing an abundance of various pastries for the unbirthday party the next day.

Rule 347 clearly states that one must be in the kitchen at all times whist the oven is in use. Of course, while the oven was on, Trey was in the kitchen.

You had joined him an hour ago. Helping him mix up batter or prepping filling for tarts, occasionally taste testing here and there.

The two of you had fallen into a nice rhythm.

Mix up the crust for the tarts, pop it in the oven, prep the next crust, start on the filling, retrieve the cooked crust and replace it with the prepped one, and repeat.

The output in which Trey was making tarts had doubled since you joined him in the warm kitchen.

Yeah, that was it. The kitchen must have been warm. That's why he felt his cheeks grow hot at the sight of a small smile adorning your face as you scooped a spoonful of strawberry filling and brought it to your lips.

He didn't make a big deal out of it. Taking a mental screenshot of your blissful face and turning back to the oven.

He could only hope to see that look on your face again.

Maybe he could be the cause of a smile on your face instead of some mushed fruit next time.

Jade Leech

The botanical gardens of the prestigious school was nothing short of extraordinary.

The vast collection of herbs and plant life alike tended to easily wow many interested in botany.

Jade would easily maneuver around the various limbs that stretched too far out and into the path as well as a loin’s tail peeking out from under some foliage. Leading you to the back corner of the green house.

For the normal person, this would mean certain death. The Jade Leech leading someone anywhere secluded meant trouble.

But your biggest concern would be for your ears after listening to the teenager ramble about the assorted fungi in his collection.

Soon the two of you were in front of varied terrariums.

Jade picked up and even opened a few of the glass chambers as he poked and prodded at mushrooms. All whilst explaining their deadly qualities with a growing grin on his face.

His eyes would dart to yours as he went on about the symptoms of death cap mushroom poisonin.

“The signs of death cap mushroom poisoning include the following, low blood pressure, nausea, and–”

When his eyes locked with yours he wasn't expecting a grin on your face.

“–vomiting.” He quickly finished his explanation, his eyes lingering on your lips as they curved up.

A sight he didn't see often. His own lips became more upturned as he glanced away placing his beloved terrarium back where it was previously sat on a shelf with his name tied to it.

If he knew his own grin was so contagious he might let a genuine expression grace his lips more often.

Jamil Viper

His shoes squeaked across the court as he tried to keep up with the ball a few people ahead of him.

All this moving and straining was causing his left arm to cramp, pain shooting up and down his arm every time he so much as brushed it against someone.

“Sea snake!” was the only warning he got when Floyd sent the ball to him. Bouncing the ball across the ground in one swift motion to get to point a from point b.

Jamil reacted fast, palming the basketball with his left hand. He had to react fast. Being just a second too short could cost them the whole game.

He just wished Floyd wasn't always so rough on the court.

He was being chased across the floor as he dribbled the ball, aiming to go straight to the opposite team’s net and hopefully score enough points to get this over soon.

Were you watching him?

Jamil faintly remembered seeing your face in the crowd. Maybe he could catch a glance of your face if he was quick-

He hadn’t expected to see your lips turned up, even your eyes squinting. A genuine smile from you had rendered him enamored.

You’re smiling.

And the ball wasn't in his hands anymore.

Just like that, an RSA student stole the ball from him seconds before he was about to shoot.

Though, it didn't get very far. Another NRC student quickly got it back, scoring for the team.

Hopefully, you weren't watching him too closely to notice his eyes darting to you periodically throughout the game in the hope of catching you smiling again.

Rook Hunt

He didn't think you’d catch him sitting in the tree you always sat under during break.

With all the times he’d manage to watch over you, memorize your schedule, alter his daily paths just to catch a glimpse of you.

He didn't think you’d notice him.

It's better to watch from a distance.

Beautiful things are fragile, but Rook was often quick with his advances. He could easily bump you too hard and break you like a glass vase holding flowers.

When you came to a rest under the familiar branches lush with leaves, he watched.

He watched as you plucked flowers from the ground or scrolled aimlessly on your phone, his eyes locked on you as he sat perched among the tree’s limbs.

He let out a sigh. Maybe it was the peaceful atmosphere that had him so relaxed. Or maybe you were just nice to look at.

When you turned around and gazed upwards, a look of shock showed on your face before it melted down to a hesitant smile.

Sure, one-half of your lips were more upturned than the other, and maybe your eyebrows creased with a questioning look.

But it even caught the Rook Hunt off guard with the expression on your usually deadpan face.

He felt his own lips growing into a grin as he rested his hand on his palm, his elbow resting against his propped knee.

“Ah, hello de toute beauté~”

First official post holy fuck

I hope you like this🙏 Ik I didn't do all the vice housewardens but I wanted to get something posted and I currently have two other things in my inbox-

#twst wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst trey #twst trey x reader #twst jade #twst jade x reader #twst jamil #twst jamil x reader #twst rook #twst rook x reader #twst trey clover #twst jade leech #twst jamil viper #twst rook hunt #octavinelleoyster

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sirspazingtonthefourth · 1 year ago

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Did You Miss Me?

Summary: Katsuki worries that you might be cheating on him when you don’t seem to miss him when he leaves on long missions. 7.5k, angsty fluff, domesticity, Bakugo x Reader

A/N: A story I’ve had kicking around for a while and decided to write and post. It is almost entirely fluff, with a little bit of angst mixed in. It’s aimed at military brats in general and I may or may not have written this to help myself deal with that trauma a little bit.

Content Warnings: Cursing, implied sex once, suspecting partner of cheating, might be a little ooc

You were terrible at expressing your emotions. It had always been that way. You never learned how to say the things you wanted to say, and you hardly even understood them enough to know what you felt at all.

It was one of the reasons you and Katsuki got along so well.

You two had met at the entrance exam to U.A., and it had been anything but a happy meeting. He’d thought you were stuck up, and you’d thought he was an ass. You both somehow ended up in Class 1A together, and had butted heads through half of the first year. But somewhere in that half a year, something about the way you saw each other changed.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, at first. The both of you sniped at each other as you had been doing for months, still insulted each other, still tormented each other. But somewhere along the way you both realized a fundamental misunderstanding in your communication.

Katsuki, you realized, didn’t talk with words. At least, he didn’t express what he meant with words. And you, he realized, didn’t either. Katsuki spoke with actions, and you spoke with body language. And once you both realized that, no one could tell the difference between how you two acted.

You both sniped still, insulted still, tormented still. But you were actually speaking to each other now, in a language no one else understood. His friends knew his actions spoke louder than his words, that he rarely meant his insults wholeheartedly, but they could not trade words without speaking one, as the two of you did by the end of that first year.

“How do you do that?” he asked aloud that summer, staring up at the stars from his backyard. The two of you had just had a silent argument in front of both your parents at your birthday party. It hadn’t been anything big, just friendly teasing about your choice in cake flavor.

“Do what?”

“Talk like that. You say things without talking, and you’ve started to do these weird… bird chips too. How do you talk like that?” You shrugged, laying down next to him to look at the stars too.

“Oh, the chirps? You just-”

“I don’t mean how you physically do it. How do you understand what I mean, even when I don’t say anything?”

“Because you do say things.” You turned to look at each other, and the look of contentment on your face melted Katsuki’s heart a little.

“Every time you crunch your nose when you’re confused, or raise your left eyebrow when you’re impressed, or scoff when you get embarrassed, you say something without even meaning to.”

“Tch, whatever,” he grumbled, turning back to the stars to hide the light blush on his cheeks.

“See, you did it just now, Pop Tart.” You poked his cheek as he pouted at the sky.

“I’m not a damn Pop Tart, whatever the hell that is.”

“‘Course you are! I mean, you’ve got such a sour personality, it’s a wonder anyone can stand you,” you said with a smile. “And when you get angry, you set your quirk off a little, even if you don’t mean to. It makes this little popping noise. So, Pop Tart.”

It was quiet between you two for a while, the sound of both of your parents talking amongst each other reaching into the night through the screen door. Your siblings were upstairs, keeping each other busy away from the adults. Maybe playing hide and seek, maybe just yelling at each other, speaking to one another the same way you spoke to Katsuki.

“Why do you talk like that? Without saying anything?” Katsuki whispered. You sat, still staring at the stars as you tried to figure out what to say. He almost thought you hadn’t heard, when you replied.

“Because words never worked for me. I mean, you’ve met my dad, he’s a bit of a hot head. Worse than you, sometimes,” you chuckle lightly, trying to push away the bad memories. “Someone like that isn’t in touch with his emotions enough to teach a kid how to talk about them, let alone how to deal with them. So I taught myself a way.”

You both kept talking that way your whole lives. Your classmates picked up that they could talk to you without talking, but only a few realized how to talk back. Katsuki, of all of them, was still the most fluent in that language, one you had spoken before learning how to actually talk.

You knew what he had meant in second year, when he sat with you in a tree after school, stuttering over his words and unwilling to meet your eyes as pink dusted over his cheeks. You had kissed him, just a quick peck on the lips. He knew what you meant when you pressed your forehead to his after, eyes scrunched tight and noses brushing together.

He had known what you had meant when you stood outside his dorm in the middle of the night a month later, dark rings under your eyes as you stared at nothing, looking so much smaller than you had ever let yourself be seen. He had pulled you into his chest, clutching you tight as you did the same, tears finally slipping from your eyes. And you had known what he meant when he rested his head on yours as you cried into his shoulder.

You stayed with him once your family left, the military calling your mother back to the States, your father and younger siblings in tow. The two of you had been prepared to fight on the matter. Fight for you to stay behind, finish your education at U.A. But it hadn’t been necessary. Your parents and his had pulled you two aside and suggested the idea before the two of you could even bring it up.

Your families had grown close over the year you and Katsuki had been friends, and your parents would have no one else house you if you were to stay. You both agreed quickly, and within two weeks of the conversation, you were moved into the Bakugo’s spare bedroom and your family had moved back to somewhere in the States.

It was the first time he noticed something truly strange about you. You moved on with your life almost too quickly. You adjusted to living with him and his family within a week, as if you had always lived with them. You never talked about your family. Granted, you rarely had, there’d been no need. Your house was practically Katsuki’s house too, your younger siblings had practically become his, too. Hell, he found himself missing them more than you seemed to.

But he brushed it off. After all, it was the middle of the school year. You couldn’t exactly let this shake you with the mandatory work studies and homework and all. And you still called your family, when you could. Time zones were quite the pain, but you made it work.

You graduated together. You were there when he and Eijiro opened their agency a year later. Hell, you were the first person to turn in an application to join, handing it to him the moment he clocked into the place for the first time. It was more a gesture, you both knew; you could have handed it to him that morning at the breakfast table.

Through everything, you both made communication a priority. You were both well aware of how you two couldn’t talk about your emotions to save your lives, so sat down regularly to talk things through. Even when your anger issues fed off each other and the two of you blew up, you would make it a point to come back later and talk it through. Sometimes it took a few days, sometimes you needed to talk with a friend to mediate, but you would talk.

You both wanted this to work. Katsuki knew that. You wouldn’t put so much effort into something you didn’t want to work out. Neither would he. But lately, something had been feeling wrong.

Katsuki and you both had started to take missions that required you to leave for weeks at a time. He always made a big deal about you leaving, getting a “last date” in before you left. He'd almost made you late for several flights because he didn’t want to say goodbye yet. When you were gone, he couldn’t wait for you to get back. He was antsier than normal, more likely to snap at the heroes and sidekicks at the agency. He called you every night before you went to bed, even if it meant he had to wake up at 3 a.m. to wish you good night.

When you got back, there was always something that had to happen. A date of some kind, no matter how small. He would be nigh inseparable from you for hours, showering you with affection the whole time. Whether he picked you up from the airport or you took an Uber back to the house, the first thing he would always do was pull you into him, smothering you in a hug and kissing you all over your face to make up for lost time.

But when he left… it was different.

You went on a “last date” with him, too, but it never seemed like you were as desperate to make the most of it like he was. You’d help him pack, sneaking in some of his favorite snacks somehow no matter how hard he tried to keep you from doing it. You’d kiss him at the door, or at the airport if you dropped him off, but it was him that always tried to stay longer, never you trying to make him stay. No one ever mentioned you seeming more stressed with him gone, even Mina and Eijiro, who could read your body language almost as well as Katsuki himself could after seven years of constantly being around you.

When he got back, you would have your own little celebration. You’d greet him at the airport gate, pulling him into you for a hug as he did for you, rubbing your head against his in a gesture that meant more to you than kissing him ever could, whispering how you missed him. You’d make a meal, cuddle under a blanket for a movie night that would often turn into something more.

But you were not constantly seeking to be by his side, like he was seeking to be by yours. You never pulled him into you like he was the last source of air, like he did for you. The thing that really made him suspicious was that you outright said that you missed him. You never outright said what you were feeling. You were too uncertain of how, usually.

“It just… it feels like they don’t miss me when I’m gone,” he confessed to Eijiro. It was one of his days off while you were gone, something he hated since it meant he had nothing to do and you weren’t there. The two of them were sitting in a nice cafe in a back corner, away from windows with hats pulled low to hopefully avoid being spotted.

“Have you guys talked about it yet?” the red-head asked. “If it’s really bothering you that much you know they wouldn’t brush you off.” Katsuki’s leg was bouncing under the table, and he raised the paper coffee cup to his lips. It was good coffee, one of your favorite places, in fact.

“It’s just… what if there’s someone else?” Eijiro choked a little, setting the cup down and turning his head as he tried to hack up the coffee that had gone down the wrong pipe.

“I know, I don’t think they’d do that either, but-”

“Clearly you do, if you’re bringing it up. Seriously, man, talk to them. As soon as you can. What even makes you think that, anyway? You know how they feel about stuff like that. They can’t even stand when two love interests try to kiss when one of them is in a relationship, and that’s TV.”

Katsuki rubbed at his face, shaking his head. His hand came to rest on his mouth as he tried to form into words what he was thinking. There was an old coffee stain on the edge of the wooden table. He remembered it from one of your first dates. Someone had closed the cash register too loudly and you’d jumped, spilling coffee over the table and your leg. It was an old joke between you both, now.

“I don’t really know. But… they don’t seem like they miss me, and I can’t think of another reason they wouldn’t. It doesn’t make any sense!” His hands ran into his hair, tugging on the strands as his hat began to ride up. Eijiro let out a sigh, the two of them oblivious to the growing noise in the cafe.

“Whatever you decide to do, it should probably be face to face. This is not the kind of conversation you have with someone over the phone.”

“You got that right,” Katsuki mumbled, hands pushing his hat further up his head.

“Mommy, look! It’s Dynamight!” Oh shit.

The day you got back was tense. All the usual things Katsuki would have planned were canceled. Eijiro was right, he needed to talk to you about this. He asked Mina and Eijiro to show up, just in case it turned into a fight. He prayed it wouldn’t.

He picked you up at the airport, pulled you into him like he always did, but you knew something was wrong. His shoulders were tense, and he had looked nervous when you saw him. He pulled away faster than normal, hands on your shoulders to tell you he meant business.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about tonight.”

You were tired. You’d just gotten off a four hour flight, the mission had been exhausting, and you hadn’t slept right since you left home. You never slept right without Katsuki around. The part of you that sounded like your dad told you to brush him off, reprimand him for asking this of you so soon after your arrival.

The rest of you told that part to shove it. Katsuki was worried, and he wanted to talk about something. You owed it to him as your partner to talk it over with him, whatever it turned out to be.

“Of course, Love. Am I allowed to change beforehand?” You cracked a small smile, resting a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder so he knew you were taking him seriously, so he knew the joke wasn’t meant to be a jab. He smiled in return, resting his head against yours.

“I guess.”

Katsuki’s prayers were answered. The conversation didn’t turn into a fight. In fact, it didn’t happen at all. Almost as soon as he got home, right as you left to change into clothes that didn’t “reek of plane and airport,” as you liked to put it, his manager called.

“Hello, Dynamight. I know this is short notice, but there’s been an emergency in Okinawa. It’s all hands on deck over there, and we need you to get over there. There’s a plane leaving in five hours, we need you on it. I’ll text you the details.”

“The hell? I have the next two days off and Y/N just got back!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but this came directly from the Commission. I tried to keep you out of it, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry. It’s supposed to take a month, that was the shortest they would allow you to stay.”

“Tch… fine. Send me the details. I’ll be there.”

“Will do, sir. Sorry, again.”

The line went dead, and Katsuki wanted to throw his phone so badly. Blame it on some accident in the kitchen or something. He couldn’t make it to a flight if he didn’t know where it was, and he couldn’t get the information if he never got that text from his manager.

“You have to go in, don’t you?” Katsuki turned to you. You were on top of the stairs in your favorite pair of pants and an old All Might t-shirt you had stolen from his side of the closet. You still looked tired from the flight, but you gestured for him to come up.

“I’m sorry, baby. I-” You pulled him into a kiss, letting him hold you as you did. When he pulled away, he rested his head on yours, noses touching.

“It’s fine. I know you would have stayed if you could. We can talk about that thing when you get back, okay? Now come on. How long do you have to pack?”

“A couple hours at best. The flight leaves in five hours,” he said. You closed your eyes and nodded softly, taking the information in. You were no doubt already planning what he would need. He could do it himself, you both knew, but it was something you cherished doing with him.

“Alright. How long?”

“A month. But it’s an emergency situation, so it might go longer.” You nodded, pulling your head away and holding his hand as you looked into his eyes. The look you gave him, tired but full of love, made him feel awful for what he wanted to talk to you about.

“Let’s get packing, then.”

When he got to the hotel he would be staying in, he wanted to just collapse. But he was still in outside clothes, and he refused to go to bed without pajamas. He dug into his bag for where you always packed the comfy pants he liked sleeping in.

They were a pair you had ordered for yourself last year with angry chihuahuas, but you’d gotten them in the wrong size. You had been rather upset, excited for the new pair of silly pajama pants, and he had immediately taken them and put them on, fully expecting them to be so ridiculously not his size that it made you laugh. He had not expected them fit him perfectly, and when he walked out with the angry chihuahua pants you had been equally stunned.

The memory of your face when he’d walked out, utterly gobsmacked that the pants had fit him, stuck with him. You had been surprised, and trying not to laugh at his face. And then you’d pretended to accuse him of switching the sizes because he “wanted the damn things so bad,” even though he hadn’t even been in the house when you ordered them. It made him smile, even now as he pulled the pair of pants out. They were bigger and more crinkly than normal.

He pulled the couple bags of snacks out from where you’d folded the pants around them. A bag of extra spicy kaki-no-tane, and two packs of his favorite instant ramen had been hidden in the pants, and the pockets felt like they had some kind of candy in them. But most important was the note you’d taped to the snacks.

Come back to talk to me about that thing, okay Pop Tart?

Love

Y/N

There were a couple of hasty doodles on the note. A few hearts, a stick figure drawing of him blowing up a villain with a cartoonishly angry face, and a stick figure crowd cheering for him. Your notes were as cheesy as they had been in high school, and he laughed. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see you calling.

“Your doodles are still as terrible as always,” he said by way of greeting. You huffed good naturedly on the other end.

“Well, I’m sorry Mr. Art Critic, sir, but I only had a few minutes to make them.”

“In a few minutes you still managed to make my mouth bigger than my damn head. And the hearts? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had feelings for me.” The exchange felt nice, but something about it felt hollow to him. The nagging feeling that you had someone else wouldn’t leave him alone, making him feel guilty for having this silly little conversation with you.

“Maybe I do, or maybe I thought they just enhanced my masterpiece.” You sounded less tired than earlier. Maybe you’d gotten a nap in. Maybe someone else was there with you, making you feel better after a long day.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, trying to sound as happy as you did. But it was hard. The doubt, the frustration, and the missing you all made it hard.

“... It’s really bothering you, huh? That thing you wanted to talk about?” He sighed. Even three hours and hundreds of miles away, you could read him.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to feel worried about something like… like whatever it is that’s bothering you.” He almost broke, told you right there what was scaring him so much.

“I… I don’t think I can talk about it over the phone. It’s a face to face kind of conversation, you know?” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. He could almost see you nodding, that stupid, warm smile on your face you used to reassure him.

“I get it. And I meant what I wrote on that note. Come back, so you can tell me all about it. Don’t think you get to die just to get out of talking through this,” you said, and he could hear your own throat start to tighten.

“I will. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Katsuki. Love.” He smirked at your unconventional confession. Though he supposed he wasn’t much better, for playing along with it.

“Love, too.”

The month dragged on for Katsuki. Helping with the disaster relief, keeping villains from taking advantage of the weakened infrastructure, and his worry made every hour feel like days. But he had a date marked on his calendar, exactly a month after he left. The day the Commission said he could go home.

Until it wasn’t

“Those fucking bastards! Changing the date last minute. They told me I’d leave tomorrow two days after I got here, just to fuckin’... Others are going home on time, but-”

“Katsu, hey.” You pulled his attention back to your face on the computer screen. Your arm was stretched out of frame, and he just knew you were holding your laptop screen. “It’s okay. I had a feeling.”

“It’s not okay! First they pull me here right after you get back, despite the time I took off, then they change the day I’m supposed to go home… Sometimes I just wish I was able to blast myself all the way back to you, so they can’t keep me here like this.” It felt like he’d grabbed your heart and squeezed it. You had to hold back a couple tears, and you resolved to call your mother about it later. You owed her… you weren’t sure what, but you owed her something.

Katsuki was just sitting silent on the other end, staring at you for a minute.

“What do you mean, you had a feeling?” There was the edge of suspicion in his voice, and it cut. You didn’t know what he suspected of you, but it hurt that he did at all.

“It was like this with Mom a lot. Anytime she would tell us when she was going to come home, it would get changed. It’s why I told you not to tell me, it’s bad luck.”

“But I’ve told you when I’ll come home before, and you’ve told me too. It hasn’t changed before. The Commission’s just being-”

“A government entity that doesn’t care about either of us beyond numbers in a list. Pieces to push around on the board. The other times were with other agencies, and agencies care about their heroes because their heroes are the ones running the agencies. The Commission doesn’t give a shit.”

He sighed on the other end. He was laying on his stomach talking to you, chin in his hand as he turned his head away. His elbow braced him against the bed, and his feet kicked up behind him. He would kill you if you mentioned that he kicked his feet up like a teen girl on her phone to anyone. It made it that much more funny to you.

“It sucks. I just wanna get home, and now I have to wait another week.”

“Check the inside pocket on your suitcase,” you said, a mischievous little smirk starting on your face.

“You didn’t.”

“You won’t know unless you look~!” You sang. He huffed, going off screen to check his bag. It took too long.

“The other pocket,” you yelled. You heard the telltale crinkling of the bag of wasabi kaki-no-tane and Katsuki cursing you as he stomped back to the bed.

“How the fuck do you always manage to sneak these things in?! I swear, you have a second quirk you aren’t telling me about,” he said, opening the bag and grabbing a few pieces.

“Sure I do. Not my fault you never check your bag,” You shot back.

“I do! And then this shit appears out of nowhere!” You laughed at his false indignation. You knew he liked the snacks, or you wouldn’t pack them. Plus, it was a game the two of you could play, no matter how far apart you were. No matter how suspicious of you he felt.

“I’m going to have some extra time while I’m here. Anything you want?” He asked. You snapped back into reality. You hadn’t even realized you’d started to drift away.

“Oh, um… Could you bring back some brown sugar senbei? They’re super tasty, and I wanna mail some to Mom for Christmas.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll pick a couple packs up. We could just get some back home, you know.”

“I do, but the Okinawan ones taste better, and those cost an arm and a leg everywhere else.”

“So I hear. Anything else you need?”

“Nah, just the head of whoever made the decision to yank you around, but they’re probably here, which means I can get that myself,” you joked. Katsuki cracked a smile.

“Careful, they might be listening to you through your computer mic and charge you with conspiracy to commit murder. Then we’d have to go on the run, and you and I both know Ei couldn’t handle running the agency alone.”

“He won’t be alone, he’s got Mina and Denki and Sero.”

“Oh, yes, and they just inspire confidence.” You blew a raspberry at him and his attitude.

“You know damn well they can handle it if it’s all four of them.”

“You’re right, I do.” Katsuki fought down a yawn. “I gotta turn in. G’night, Y/N.”

“Night, Katsu. Stay safe.”

“I will.”

There was another delay in getting Katsuki home, and you scolded him for mentioning he had a week left. You made him promise not to tell you until he was on the plane and had taken off that he was coming home. You worked on getting ingredients together to make mapo tofu and miso butter cookies in the meantime. You wanted to have everything put together for when he got home.

You had a feeling he was going to want to talk to you the minute he got home, so you called Eijiro and Mina to let them know ahead of time that you would be calling them in to mediate. You didn’t think it would escalate, but Katsuki had been sitting on this for over a month. He might blow up after keeping a lid on this for so long. He had been adamant about not talking about whatever was bothering him over the phone, and you didn’t push him.

The minute you got the text that he had taken off, at 2:27 p.m., you started cooking. You didn’t want to cook the tofu until he got back, so he could have a fresh, hot meal, but the cookies could be made ahead of time. Once they were done, you did a quick round of the house to make sure everything was put away and clean.

You checked the time. 5 p.m. You grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and a packet of Airborne. You opened the packet and the water bottle, dumped the powder in, and popped the cap back on. You shook the bottle to mix the two together all the way to your car.

It was with you as you sat in the arrivals area in the airport, waiting for Katsuki’s flight. You’d been waiting for twenty minutes. Not uncommon, but you were worried. Had something happened once he got airborne? Had the plane needed to turn back? You checked your phone for any new messages from Katsuki.

The waiting was always the worst part. Flights weren’t always on time, and you hated it. It meant you could never be certain when Katsuki was going to be in your reach again. Or if something had happened that the tower just hadn’t found out about yet.

The relief you felt when you looked at the big screen displaying the arrivals and departures and saw that Katsuki’s flight had landed ten minutes ago almost knocked the wind out of you. He was safe, nothing had happened midair, he would probably be out in a few minutes.

Ten more minutes passed before you saw Katsuki walk out among the crowd. He had his carry on bag over one shoulder, scanning the crowd of people sitting, looking for you. You stood, walking over to him. He picked up the pace once he saw you, crushing you with a hug once you got close enough and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you said to him. His shoulders tensed a little. You’d said the wrong thing. Or maybe it was something you’d done. Whatever it was, you didn’t know what to do to fix it.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered into your neck, not letting go of you despite his want to leave.

“Okay,” you said, pushing your head into his through the ball cap he wore, waiting for him to let go so you could go get his suitcase. He did eventually let go, and you handed him the water bottle.

“Okinawa’s hot this time of year, and you just got off a plane,” you said as you handed it to him. He stared at the pink lemonade flavored death you’d just handed him.

“You trying to kill me or something?”

“Look, I hate it too, but it does work and I don’t want you getting sick right after you’ve gotten home.” He rolled his eyes, but did as you asked and drank the vitamin C rich water. You pretended not to notice him fake gagging after he’d downed the water bottle as you walked towards the baggage claim.

When you got home, Eijiro and Mina were already there. You had long since given Mina a key to your house, and Katsuki had given one to Ei. They were your closest friends, welcome in your home anytime, even if you had to fight Katsuki to agree to give them the keys. He’d said they could know they were welcome without having the keys, but he ultimately caved.

The worrying part was that you hadn’t asked them to come over or told them Katsuki was home yet. Which meant Katsuki had called them. Which meant he was also worried this would blow up. Not a good sign.

You greeted your friends before helping Katsuki carry his bags upstairs. He didn’t even take time to change clothes or unpack anything before heading back downstairs. That really set off alarm bells. True, you both had only been taking missions out of the city for a year now, and Katsuki didn’t always unpack and change right away like you, but it didn’t sit well with you.

You both sat in the living room facing each other. Mina had made tea, a small tactic to keep things civil. You couldn’t very well flip a table over dishes when there were dishes on the table.

Eijiro sat to Katsuki’s right, Mina on your left. That way they could signal each other without necessarily alerting either of you in case they needed to act without you both noticing.

“Okay, Katsuki. We’re both here, what do you need to talk about?” He took a deep breath through his nose, gathering his strength. His fingers were steepled, hiding the lower half of his face as he stared at the coffee table between you. Kirishima rested a hand on his shoulder to encourage him.

“Do you miss me?” he blurted out, looking you in the eyes. “When I leave, do you miss me at all?” It felt… bad. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling, though you supposed hurt was the best way to say it.

“Of course I do. Why would y-” you stopped yourself. This wasn’t a blame-game, he was worried. “What was it that… that gave you the impression that I didn’t?” You looked away from him as you chose your words, but you brought your gaze back to his as you finished.

“You… you don’t act like you miss me. You don’t… treat me how I treat you when you come back. Or when I leave. It’s like it’s just a normal day for you!” His shoulders were tightening, and he tore his gaze from you, like he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

“Hey, man. Calm down,” Ei urged.

“Okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “What exactly do you mean, when you say I don’t treat you like you treat me?”

“Do you honestly not see it? I… When you’re about to go, I take every second I can with you. I feel like part of me is gone when you aren’t here, and-” Katsuki started to stand, and Eijiro stepped in.

“Sit down, Kat. You’re worked up. Take a breath, a drink, something.” Katsuki looked like he wanted to challenge the red head, but Mina stood too.

“Bakugo, he’s right. You need to calm down.” He sighed, collapsing back to the couch. You had a feeling he’d been planning on pacing, but it was best for everyone to stay seated. It was easier to get worked up if you were already up and moving around. Katsuki took a drink of the tea, wincing as he burned his tongue. You reached a hand across the table to him, and he took it as he set the cup down.

“... I’m different, when you’re gone. Everyone knows it. Hell, Ei’s had to stop me from blasting a hole in my desk over the stupidest shit when you’re gone. When you get back I…”

He sat, thinking about how to say wherever it was he needed to say. You rubbed your thumb across the back of his hand to comfort him, and he did the same.

“I can’t let you go when you leave or when you come back. But when I leave… you act like you don’t care.”

“Of course I care!” You interrupted. You winced as soon as you said it. Why was it that the tactics you hated when they were used against you were always the first ones you used? “Sorry. Please, continue.” Katsuki nodded.

“You don’t seem like you value the time before I go the same way I do. No one notices you acting any different at the agency when I’m not around. You don’t… you act like there’s someone else here while I’m gone.”

The bottom dropped out of your stomach. He thought what?

“And I don’t think you would, but I don’t know why else you would act like that. I mean, you don’t talk about how you feel, even less than me. But every time I come back you have to tell me that you missed me, and it just… it doesn’t make sense.” He spat out all at once, his free hand tangling itself in his hair.

You just sat there, breathing. Did he think you were cheating on him? Or was it just his bad communication skills? Granted, they were better than they were, but it was times like these you wondered how much they’d improved.

“Katsuki,” you said, reaching your second hand to grab his, “if I tell you that there’s no one else, will you believe me?” Tears were starting to fall as you looked at him. He moved his hand from his hair, wrapping it around yours.

“Promise me.” He lifted his hands from yours, leaving you free to hold your hands up. It was something you’d started with your siblings. The childish game of crossing your fingers behind your back to get out of a promise had taken hold in them when they were younger, and so to prove honesty you would hold your hands in front of you. Proof that you meant what you said. It was something you still did, no matter how childish it seemed.

“Katsuki, I promise you… I would never, ever, cheat on you.” Relief washed over Katsuki, the tension draining from his shoulders as he watched you.

“I believe you. And… I’m sorry, I don’t- I…” You rested a hand on his again, tears still bubbling op and spilling out from your eyes.

“What do you actually want to ask? Because if you actually thought I was cheating-”

“I didn’t! I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of another reason you would act like that.” He’d cut you off, but you decided to let it slide.

“Like what?”

“Like me leaving isn’t a big deal! When you leave, it feels like everything falls apart. When I leave you just… act like it’s business as usual.” he took a deep breath, grabbing your hand from across the table. You nodded in understanding.

“Do you think you’d feel okay doing the rest of this in private?”

“Yeah. Just… didn’t want things to get out of hand. Are you okay with that?” you nodded.

“Okay, Eiji. You heard them. We come back to find the house destroyed again and you both are grounded, ‘kay?” Mina half-joked. There would be hell to pay if she found out you two started fighting once they were gone. Eijiro got up to go with her, giving a last supportive pat on Katsuki’s back before walking out the door.

You took a breath, drawing back into yourself as you carefully put the words together.

“When you leave… I don’t know. I don’t miss you the same way you miss me. I can’t miss you like you miss me. I don’t know how, I guess.” You paused, taking a minute to breathe. You were already crying, and you still needed to explain. Katsuki didn’t ask anything as you pulled yourself together, so you continued.

“Mom… the first memory I have of her is when I was two. She’s in the kitchen making eggs. My second is a couple months later. She was in the desert, and she’d recorded a message to send to me and Dad. She couldn’t come home when she said she would. She… was trying really hard not to cry.” Again you paused. Again, Katsuki didn’t ask anything.

“That kept happening. Over and over and over again. I got older and older, and I started to understand what it meant for her to leave. I never knew for sure when she’d come back, cause if she told us it was almost a guarantee that the date would change. Hell, I didn’t know if she’d come back. And that was everyday for me for a long time.

“The point is… When you have to keep saying goodbye to someone, you learn how to let them go, even if it is just because you can’t remember how to hold on. You keep going because life keeps going and you can’t afford to spend time thinking about how they might not come back this time.”

You took a last, shuddery breath, staring down at the coffee table between you two.

“I don’t know how to miss you like you miss me. I don’t know if I know how to miss anyone, anymore. You’re right, I do say it when I hate downright talking about things like that, but it’s because you deserve to hear it even if I don’t know how to say it how we normally talk. You deserve to be missed. And… and I’m sorry that I don’t-”

Katsuki pulled you to your feet, guiding you around the coffee table towards his couch. You collapse next to him on the couch. He holds you close, and you do the same, crying, terrified that after everything you said, he doesn’t think you care. You do care, you care so much, but you don’t know how to express it. You hardly know how to feel it.

“Hey, shh. It’s alright. I get it.” You sag into him even more, relief flooding through you. He didn’t think you were cheating on him. He didn’t think you didn’t care about him.

“You’re shit at explanations, though. Did you really have to bring your mom into this?” he joked.

“Shut up, you dick,” you laugh back, tears and a little snot still running on your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know. I should’ve asked.” You gently swatted his shoulder. It was awkward, considering it was behind you, but you made it work.

“You didn’t know to ask. I can’t blame you for that. Thank you for wanting to talk to me about it. Even if you did think there was someone else.” Katsuki chuckled at you, rocking you both on the couch as you just enjoyed each other’s company, something you hadn’t been able to do in person in months.

“Can you blame me? You and I both know you could pull just about anybody you wanted. Long as you managed to keep your big fat mouth shut, that is.” You snorted, snuggling in closer to your partner.

“You’re half right. I managed to pull this fucking amazing guy a while back, and I didn’t have to watch my mouth at all. In fact-” you pulled back to look Katsuki in the eyes, “As I recall, he said it was hot after I cursed him out for making fun of me for being scared of a cash register.”

He smirked back. Your eyes were puffy, there were tear tracks down your face, and snot ran down your nose, and he was certain it was all over his shirt now. You looked a total mess. But you were his mess, and he wouldn’t give you up for anything. He brushed a thumb under one of your eyes, wiping away a lingering tear.

“Dude must have some pretty shitty taste to still like you after that, huh?” Your laugh came out almost like a cough.

“Oh, the worst. He’s got these chihuahua pajama pants that he insists he didn’t want, just took them cause they were his size. As if he didn’t go behind my back and change the size so they could be his.”

“And you didn’t make fun of him? I’m impressed.”

“Oh, no. I made fun of him all the time, even before that. Gave him this stupid nickname but he didn’t even get mad about it once.”

“Bet he loved your stupid doodles.”

“Oh he did. Absolutely head over heels for those dumb things. Never critiqued me once, no matter how awful they were. I mean, seriously, they were just stick figures.”

“He sounds boring,” Katsuki said, leaning in so your noses brushed.

“Oh, god, he is awful. But I’m glad he’s in my life, even if I don’t tell him to his face as much as I probably should.”

“Yeah, well, just because you don’t say it to his face doesn’t mean he doesn’t know.” You leaned up to kiss him. It was slow, loving, the both of you just taking each other in again after so long apart.

“Good. I’d hate to have wasted so many cuddles on him for him to not get the message,” you said, snuggling back into Katsuki. He shifted so he was laying back with you on top of him. You stayed that way for a minute, listening to each other’s breathing.

“You wanna watch something?” he asked.

“Only if you want to,” you said, eyes closed as your head rested on his chest, listening to his heart.

“I do.”

“Then turn on something.”

“The remote’s on the other side of the table.”

“And?”

“And I can’t reach it with you laying on me.”

“Sucks.” Katsuki sighed in mock annoyance.

“Can I at least get a blanket?”

“No. I’m the blanket now.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Fine, I’ll get the remote. But I still get to be the blanket.”

“Deal.”

#katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #gn reader

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milliesfishes · 1 month ago

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hi honey!! can i please request a pk coryo thing? i saw you say you want to write for him and it made me happy! could you do something along the lines of you get in trouble with another mean peace keeper and coriolanus sees but isn’t able to do anything about it in public and it’s lowk angst/comfort

lol idk if that even makes any sense

꣑ৎ౨ৎpeacekeeper coryo comforts you꣑ৎ౨ৎ fem reader x coriolanus snow

His eyes were trained ahead, expression cold as he stared at the edge of the fence and the forest out ahead. Coriolanus had been patrolling for hours now, and he was more than ready to be done with it. Though months in this district in uniform had desensitized him to a point, today had been long. His knees and back ached, and he was tired.

For about an hour, this slow and torturous march of time, he'd been thinking about the hot shower that awaited him, daydreamed about sinking into the mattress and letting his eyes close for a long time. Tomorrow was his day off, which only made today feel longer.

To his right, a pair of fellow Peacekeepers were whispering to themselves, looking at something a little further off. Coriolanus quirked his eyebrows in annoyance, trying to disregard them. Though he got on fine with his peers, that didn't mean their antics didn't bother him more often than not.

Refocusing, he decided to bide his time by thinking about what he wanted to do tomorrow. Maybe he'd be able to pop into town or draft a letter to Tigris. Sejanus' Ma's weekly batch of homespun baked goods would likely arrive tonight, and he imagined them now, taking a bite of a flaky apple tart, somehow still warm after being mailed across the country.

The rustle of a chain link fence startled him, and his head snapped in that direction. Furrowing his brow, Coriolanus squinted, taking a step forward. The other two Peacekeepers were already heading over to investigate, their movements quick and heavy.

There was a figure crouching down, and even though it was practically dark he could see that it was a woman. She was holding something wriggling in her arms...an animal maybe? He decided to move forward too, see what all the fuss was about.

As he got closer his heart sank as he recognized the figure. You were frozen, holding your beloved cat in your arms as one of the other Peacekeepers spoke to you, his voice biting. "-shouldn't be out here right now. It's past curfew."

"I'm sorry, my cat got out." When you said it, Coriolanus' heart clenched. You were soft-spoken, as delicate as one of the blossoms growing by the river. And his brothers in arms fed on such things like timber to fire.

"The punishment for being out after curfew is detainment. For at least two days," the other one said, looming over you like a tower. Your eyes were blown wide, and you shrank into yourself, clutching the black cat in your arms to your chest. He smirked a little, and Coriolanus' jaw clenched. When the man decided to poke the end of his gun into your cat's side, you made a noise of fear.

"Don't!" The other two men laughed, and Coriolanus could see that you were on the verge of tears. He quickened his footsteps, shoving in between them and ignoring the relief on your face.

"What's this?" he asked, maintaining a firmness in his voice. The taller of the two men gave him a look.

"Pretty girl thinks she can walk around however she'd like after dark," he mocked, turning his eyes back to you in a way Coriolanus did not appreciate. You were staring at him, pleading. His arms ached for you, to secure you between them. And maybe you'd reach up like always, cling to the tags of metal secured around his neck. He liked when you did that.

Instead, he straightened. Tore his eyes away from you to look at Taller. "Just let her go home."

"Nah, we were havin' fun, weren't we princess?" Shorter asked, letting his eyes rove over you. You tried to take a step back, but your back hit the fence, sparking a laugh from the other two men again. Coriolanus suppressed a huff. He wished Sejanus was here- he'd back him up. But he was back at the base, peacefully enjoying a night off patrol.

So Coriolanus straightened, shaking his head. "No. Let her go. She won't come around here again. Right?" He looked at you, mouth set straight but eyes trying to convey something else. You nodded, the tail of your cat wrapping around your arm.

He stepped aside, creating a berth. "Go." You fled immediately, only looking back once. Coriolanus watched you run until you were no more than a dot in the distance.

The other two men grumbled at him but he paid them no mind. Time passed quickly after that, his thoughts remaining with you. He pictured how scared you'd been, the way your hands had trembled. It took every modicum of restraint to keep him from seizing each of the other men by the collar and teaching them a lesson that would end with bloody noses.

That was his girl. And nobody spoke to his girl like that.

Later in the barracks, having showered and dressed down, Coriolanus stared at the dark of the ceiling, listening to his bunkmates snore softly. Even the batch of sugar cookies sent by Ma hadn't lifted his mood. In all the time he'd spent at your side, he'd never seen you so terrified. He tried taking in a breath, attempting to convince himself to sleep. But the wretched sensation never came.

Finally he sat up in the darkness, reaching for the notebook he kept beside his bed. Messily, he scrawled two words on a blank page and tore it out, leaving it on the nightstand where Sejanus would see it in the morning.

Cover me.

Sneaking out was fairly easy, though his heart pounded a crater into his chest. If he was caught it wouldn't mean more than a night scrubbing dishes, but still. He wasn't one to get in trouble. Once he was outside the walls and ducking into the trees he breathed easier. Anyone who wondered would assume he got up early to go on a run or something of the like, and Sejanus would confirm the story if needed.

It had been close to eleven when he'd left the base, tramping through the tall grass on a very familiar path. Coriolanus moved faster once he recognized the contours of your little home, even in darkness. There was a light glowing in the window still, and he knew you must be up. It was rare you left a candle burning for so long.

He knocked even though he knew the door was unlocked. It wouldn't do any good to scare you worse than you'd already been today. When you answered, his heart stuttered. Though you looked exhausted you were beautiful, just like always. Staring at him for a moment, you searched his face. It hurt him like a twinge to the side that you didn't immediately run into his arms.

Coriolanus extended his hands, beckoning to you. There was hardly a moment of hesitation before you were barreling into him, face pressed against his chest. He secured you to him, wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you up. Digging his nose into your hair, he inhaled that sweet scent he'd been missing all day.

"I'm sorry." His words were muffled by your head, and you gave him a squeeze. He set you down and stepped through the frame, shutting the door gently behind you. The second his fingers fell from the door handle you were on him again, breathing in. Your hand grasped for something on his chest and he fished his dog tags from the neckline of his shirt for you to hold.

Your fingers wrapped around them and you sighed, body releasing tension. He smoothed a hand up and down your back. "Shh, just relax. I've got you."

You tentatively leaned your head against his chest. "Do you have to go back soon?"

"No," he murmured, walking you over to the couch and sitting, pulling your legs across his thighs. You nestled under his arm, your cat jumping up on Coriolanus' other side. He lightly stroked Fish's furry head with his free hand.

You didn't ask questions, just cuddled into him and shut your eyes. Here, Coriolanus was able to calm. Hot showers had nothing on having you in his arms, your cat purring against his leg.

Hand finding the back of your head and stroking your hair, he murmured, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. About earlier."

Shaking your head, you reached up to cling to his tags once more. "It isn't your fault. You had no choice."

"I'm sorry for them, then."

"Don't be."

As he looked down at you, his angel amidst the coal dust of this district, he embraced the warmth you bloomed in his chest. You were love and sunshine and all things good, packaged up in the body of a beautiful woman. Coriolanus couldn't fathom what he could have possibly done to be gifted you. He had very little to give you, only what time he could afford and words that were not nearly pretty enough to present you.

Still, you took it all, happy as though it were lined in gold.

You lifted your sleepy eyes to him and he nearly melted. "You came to see if I was alright."

"Yeah." Coriolanus let his chin rest atop your head, watching the glow of the single candle. It was a comforting thing in the quiet darkness of your home.

A slow, tired smile spread across your face. Coriolanus leaned down and kissed your nose, pressing his forehead to yours. "I want you to be safe, sweetheart."

"I know," you mumbled, shifting against him and yawning. "I...I won't do...that...anymore."

He could feel you drifting off, and so he let you, deciding to save whatever else he'd wanted to say for later. You were safe and he was here to protect you. That was all that mattered.

Coriolanus pressed his lips to your forehead. "I love you." He'd scrap his former plans for tomorrow and spend the day with you, pretending he never had to go. Whatever you wanted; a walk through the forest, a trip to town, a lazy day here...he'd do it. But for now he'd wait until you fell asleep and then carry you to bed. Imagine his ring was around your finger, that he'd always be able to wake up with you like this.

You curled your fingers around his shirt, your final sweet words before you drifted into the ocean of sleep ones that lingered long after they were uttered.

"I love you too."

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