#seriously though what is his skincare routine

[silverselfshippingchaos]

j.oongi is so fun because he gets introduced as this cold cool assassin type but really he's just a dork that has the goofiest chats

[jungwnies]

TIKTOK TREND WITH YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND | "we listen and we don't judge"

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : "we listen and we don't judge" trend

୨ৎ : genre : humor, angsty only if you squint ୨ৎ : tws : light teasing, SLIGHTLY suggestive for lewis and charles ୨ৎ : word count : 3255

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : race weekend !! can't believe lewis is finally breaking up with mercedes :'(

ʚ・max verstappen

you and max were sprawled on the couch after dinner, scrolling through your phone, you came across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and turned to max with a mischievous grin.

“max, we’re doing something,” you announced, setting your phone down.

he raised an eyebrow. “what now?”

“it’s this trend. i’ll say ‘we listen and we don’t judge,’ and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve kept from me. then it’s my turn. we go back and forth, no getting mad. deal?”

he smirked, clearly intrigued. “sounds dangerous. but alright, i’m in.”

you grinned. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge.”

max leaned back, rubbing his chin like he was deep in thought. “alright... sometimes, when you’re not around, i watch rom-coms. and yes, i cry a little.”

your jaw dropped, and you smacked his arm lightly. “you cry? you don’t even tear up during sad movies with me!”

“no judging!” he reminded you, laughing. “your turn.”

you sighed, biting back a smile. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i say i’m folding laundry, i’m actually just lying on the bed scrolling on my phone.”

max blinked, a laugh bubbling out of him. “seriously? i knew it took you way too long to fold a few shirts!”

“no judging!” you shot back, grinning. “your turn.”

he grinned, leaning in a little. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i told you i’d stop eating stroopwafels late at night, but i have a secret stash in the garage.”

you gasped dramatically. “the garage? max!”

“you said no judging,” he said smugly. “your turn.”

you rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… remember when your favorite hoodie ‘got lost’? i actually stole it, and it’s hidden in my closet.”

his eyes narrowed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. “so that’s where it went! i’ve been looking for it for months!”

“it’s comfy!” you defended. “last one, your turn.”

max smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… when i say i’m working late at the simulator, half the time i’m just watching motorsport documentaries.”

you stared at him, stunned. “max!”

he laughed, throwing an arm around you. “hey, at least i’m consistent. no judging, remember?”

“fine,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

it was a rare, lazy afternoon at home with lewis, the two of you stretched out on the couch with no obligations for the day. you were scrolling through your phone when a trending couples game caught your attention. immediately, you knew lewis would make this hilarious.

“lewis,” you said, nudging his arm.

he turned to you, smirking. “what is it now?”

“we’re playing a game. it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ i’ll say that, and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve been hiding. then it’s my turn. but no getting mad.”

his smirk deepened, clearly intrigued. “no getting mad? sounds like this might end in trouble.”

“just go with it,” you said, grinning. “you’re up first. we listen, and we don’t judge.”

he leaned back, tapping his chin like he was debating the perfect confession. “alright… we listen, and we don’t judge. i once borrowed your face cream, and now i’m low-key addicted to your skincare routine.”

you blinked at him, your jaw dropping. “you’re the reason i keep running out so fast?”

he grinned sheepishly. “your stuff’s top tier. what can i say?”

“unbelievable.” you shook your head, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “fine, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge... i sometimes hide the remote under the couch cushion when you won’t stop flipping channels.”

his mouth fell open in mock shock. “that’s why i can never find it?!”

“no judging!” you reminded him, biting back a laugh.

“alright, alright,” he said, sitting up straighter. “we listen, and we don’t judge... when i say i’m texting toto, sometimes i’m actually looking at old pictures of roscoe.”

you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “roscoe’s been getting all the attention while i’ve been sitting here, huh?”

“he’s my boy,” lewis said with a shrug, a proud grin on his face. “your turn.”

you smirked, thinking for a moment. “we listen, and we don’t judge... i may or may not have eaten the last slice of cake and blamed it on you forgetting it in the fridge.”

he pointed at you, his eyes wide. “you did that? i thought i was losing my mind!”

“no judging!” you said, giggling.

“fine,” he said, shaking his head but laughing. “last one. we listen, and we don’t judge... i keep your voice notes on my phone and listen to them when—”

before he could finish, you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “lewis!”

he was already cracking up, raising his hands in surrender. “you said no judging!”

“and you’re breaking the rules of decency!” you shot back, hitting him again as he laughed harder.

he eventually grabbed the pillow from you, pulling you into his lap. “you’re lucky i love you. even if you ate my cake.”

“you’re lucky i love you,” you teased back, resting your forehead against his. “even if roscoe gets all your attention.”

ʚ・george russell

it was one of those chill evenings at home, where neither of you had any pressing plans. george was scrolling through his phone, half paying attention to whatever was on tv, when you suddenly sat up with a mischievous grin.

“george,” you started, already giggling.

he glanced over, instantly suspicious. “what have i done now?”

“nothing… yet. but we’re playing a game,” you said. “it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ we take turns confessing random, stupid things, and the other person can’t get mad or judge.”

he narrowed his eyes, clearly trying not to laugh. “this sounds like a trap.”

“it’s not a trap!” you promised. “come on, i’ll start. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re out, i play f1 23 just so i can crash your car and watch it fly into the barriers.”

his jaw dropped. “my car?! my poor car! how could you?”

“no judging!” you reminded him, grinning. “your turn.”

he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “alright, fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… once, when you were in the shower, i tried on your slippers, and honestly? i get why you love them so much. they’re so soft.”

you stared at him, stunned, before bursting into laughter. “you mean to tell me you’ve been walking around in my fluffy bunny slippers?”

“not walking,” he said defensively. “just… trying them on.”

“sure,” you said, still laughing. “okay, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge… one time, i accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the wash and blamed it on the dryer.”

george’s eyes went wide. “that was you?! i thought i’d bulked up!”

“no judging!” you said quickly, holding back another laugh. “your turn.”

he leaned back, a mischievous grin on his face. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re asleep, i watch those weird, satisfying carpet-cleaning videos on youtube.”

you blinked at him, trying not to laugh. “you’re telling me you’re out here binge-watching carpet scrubbing at 2 a.m.?”

“they’re oddly relaxing!” he said with mock indignation. “your turn.”

you smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i stole one of your racing socks once because i couldn’t find mine, and i still have it.”

“oh, so that’s why i’ve been missing one sock this whole time!” he said, pointing at you dramatically.

“you weren’t supposed to notice!”

george laughed, pulling you into his arms. “this game is wild, but now i’m going to look at my socks, slippers, and sweaters very differently. also, we’re getting you your own racing socks.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was one of those laid-back evenings, the two of you lounging on the couch, tiktok videos filling the quiet air between laughs. carlos had his phone propped up on the armrest, both of you scrolling through videos. when you came across one of those “we listen and we don’t judge” videos, your eyes lit up.

“we should do that,” you said, grinning at him.

carlos raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “tú y yo? (you and me?) i don’t know… are you sure you’re ready for my confessions?”

you crossed your arms and smirked. “oh, please. i bet you have nothing on me.”

“alright then,” he said, locking his phone and turning fully toward you. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you ask me to fix something around the house, i pretend i don’t know how so you’ll do it.”

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “carlos! you’ve been faking it?”

“no judging!” he said, smirking back at you, completely unfazed. “your turn.”

you shook your head in disbelief but couldn’t help but laugh. “fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once took a picture of your car keys just so i could send it to you and pretend i had your keys when i’d lost mine.”

his eyes widened. “wait, so you’ve been using my keys to trick me into thinking you didn’t lose yours?!”

“yeah, well… no judging!” you said, grinning.

carlos leaned back, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you get me to help you clean, i do half the work and then take a break to watch racing highlights on my phone.”

you stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “you’re literally cleaning with one hand and watching f1 with the other?”

“isn’t that multitasking?” he said, shrugging with a teasing grin. “your turn.”

you rolled your eyes, but your lips couldn’t stop smiling. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been secretly eating your chocolate stash. and no, i don’t plan to stop.”

carlos leaned toward you, pretending to be shocked. “¿qué? (what?) you’ve been stealing my chocolate? that’s it, i’m hiding it next time!”

you giggled, shrugging innocently. “no judging!”

carlos pulled you closer, laughing softly. “alright, alright. you’ve won this round, but next time, i’m keeping my keys—and my chocolate—locked up.”

you smirked, resting your head on his shoulder. “no judgment, remember?”

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was sitting at the piano, playing casually, while you were scrolling through tiktok. you stumbled across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and couldn't resist showing him.

“amour, look at this. we should try it.”

he looked up from the keys, a playful grin on his face. “what is it? another tiktok trend i’ll regret?”

you showed him the video. “it’s a confession game. we take turns sharing things we’ve kept secret, and the other person can’t judge. we listen and we don’t judge.”

he raised an eyebrow. “you know i’m already regretting this, right mon amour?”

you laughed. “don’t be dramatic. we listen and we don’t judge.”

“alright, alright,” he said, stretching. “i'll go first…we listen, and we don’t judge… i used all your shampoo in the shower once, and when i realized it was nearly empty, i just told you it was already like that, so i threw it out while i was cleaning.”

you blinked, looking surprised. “charles! and you didn't even buy more!”

charles laughed. “at least i put it in the recycling, right?”

“no judgment…i guess." you chuckled, shaking your head. "alright, your my. but i’m keeping track of this, and i'm checking how much shampoo is left every time i get in the shower!”

you take a deep breath before giving him a cheeky grin, “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… when i told you i knew how to cook that fancy dinner, i was actually watching youtube tutorials the whole time. i burnt it twice, so i just pretended i forgot and ordered something instead.”

charles burst out laughing. “i knew it! it tasted too good to be true. so, you’ve been secretly lying to me this whole time?”

you shrugged innocently. “we listen, we don’t judge.”

he raised his hands in surrender. “fine, no judgment.”

then, he leaned in a little closer, his grin turning slightly mischievous. “okay, last one, but don’t judge, alright amour? i… sometimes fantasize about you in that dress you wore the other night… and how it’d look when you—”

“shut up, charles!” you cut him off, quickly throwing a pillow at him. “don’t say that out loud!”

charles just laughed harder, hands up in defense. “what? you said we listen and we don’t judge!”

“i didn’t say you could be that honest!” you shot back, laughing as you tried to grab the pillow back.

he grabbed it first, pulling you closer and holding you in his arms. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you’re stealing my shampoo.”

you grinned, leaning your forehead against his. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you make me blush with your terrible flirting.”

charles winked. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

ʚ・lando norris

you and lando were sprawled on the couch, both scrolling through tiktok when you came across the “we listen and we don’t judge” trend. you smirked, nudging him.

“hey, this looks fun. we should do it,” you said.

lando glanced at the screen, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “oh, i’m so in. i’ve got a few things i’ve been meaning to get off my chest.”

you laughed, knowing this could get interesting. “alright, we listen, and we don’t judge.”

lando immediately sat up straighter, ready to spill. “okay, okay. i’ve got one. we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been telling you i’m really good at making spaghetti, but the truth is, i just pour sauce over it and hope for the best. i don’t actually know how to cook it properly.”

you stared at him. “wait, you’ve been lying about being a chef this whole time?”

lando shrugs, looking way too proud of himself. “hey, it works. you still like it, don’t you?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “i don’t even know what to say to that. you’re like a pasta fraud.”

he leaned back, looking smug. “i’ve never been caught, so it’s all good.”

“alright, my turn,” you said, smirking. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i once accidentally ate all your leftover pizza and just left the box in the fridge like nothing happened. i thought you wouldn’t notice.”

lando’s eyes widened. “noooooo, you didn’t! you ate the pizza and didn’t even say anything?”

you nodded, trying not to laugh. “yep. i was hungry.”

he rubbed his temples. “this is worse than the spaghetti. at least i knew what i was doing with that!”

“hey, we don’t judge,” you shot back.

lando paused, looking like he was trying to think of something equally embarrassing to share. “alright, alright. this one’s a good one. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i’m on facetime with you, i don’t really pay attention. i just let you talk while i’m scrolling through instagram or playing games. but i’m good at pretending like i’m listening.”

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “what? no way. so all those times i thought you were listening to me, you were just—what? ignoring me?”

he winced, shrugging. “i mean, yeah. but i still love you, i promise! i’m just multitasking.”

“lando!” you threw a pillow at him. “i can’t believe you! that’s a whole new level of rude.”

he ducked, still laughing. “we listen, and we don’t judge!”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, well, i’m judging. big time.”

then you paused, smirking. “fine. one more. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once tried to sneakily eat all your chocolate bars, but i was so obvious about it that you caught me before i even finished.”

lando couldn’t help but laugh. “what?! you didn’t even hide it well?”

you shrugged. “i panicked, okay? i thought i could get away with it.”

“i can’t with you,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re lucky i love you, even though you’re a snack thief and a liar.”

you grinned. “i’m lucky you love me, even though you can’t even cook spaghetti properly.”

he smirked. “you’re lucky i still cook for you, pizza thief.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you and oscar were curled up on the sofa in your shared apartment, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. a video popped up showcasing the "we listen and we don't judge" trend, and you nudged oscar with your elbow.

"hey, this looks fun," you said, grinning. "we should do it."

oscar, his eyes still glued to his phone, shrugged. "sure, why not?" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "though i can't imagine having any confessions that are that scandalous."

"oh, you'd be surprised," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "everyone has secrets, oscar."

he chuckled, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen. "alright, let's do it. we listen, and we don't judge."

you took a deep breath, a mischievous glint in your eye. "okay, here goes. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have 'accidentally' shrunk your favorite mclaren hoodie in the wash. like, significantly."

oscar's eyes widened in horror. "you what?!" he exclaimed, leaping off the couch to inspect the damage. "not the hoodie with the papaya stripe! that was vintage!"

you winced, trying to hide your amusement. "it was an accident! i swear! i must have mixed up the settings on the washing machine."

he held up the shrunken garment, now more suitable for a toddler than a formula 1 driver. "y/n, this looks like something a chihuahua would wear!"

you burst out laughing. "okay, okay, i messed up. but hey, maybe it'll make a comeback as a crop top?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

oscar sighed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "alright, alright. my turn. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have accidentally reversed your car into the mailbox last week."

your jaw dropped. "what?! the mailbox that's now leaning at a 45-degree angle? that was you?!"

he cringed. "yeah, about that… i was in a bit of a rush, and i may have misjudged the distance."

"misjudged the distance?" you repeated incredulously. "oscar, you're a formula 1 driver! you judge distances for a living!"

he shrugged sheepishly. "everyone makes mistakes, okay? besides, it's not like i crashed an actual race car."

you shook your head, still in disbelief. "this is unbelievable. what's next, are you going to admit you can't actually cook?"

oscar's eyes widened, and he quickly changed the subject. "okay, your turn! let's hear another confession."

you smirked, knowing you had him on the ropes. "alright, fine. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have pretended to like your favorite band just to impress you when we first started dating."

he gasped dramatically. "you mean you don't actually enjoy listening to that obscure australian rock band?"

you cringed. "okay, maybe 'enjoy' is a strong word. but i've grown to appreciate them… sort of."

oscar burst out laughing. "this is too good! i can't believe you've been faking it this whole time!"

you playfully punched his arm. "hey, at least i tried! besides, it's not like you haven't exaggerated your cooking skills."

he grinned, pulling you closer. "touché. well, i guess we're both full of surprises."

you snuggled into his side, still chuckling. "yeah, i guess we are. but hey, at least we can be honest with each other, right?"

"absolutely," he agreed, kissing your forehead. "we listen, and we don't judge… mostly."

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[heestoleurgirl]

nishimura riki 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which you underestimate how clingy your boyfriend actually is, he loves cuddling and kissing you sm :(

genre: FLUFF, fluff and more fluff pairing: bf!riki x fem!reader wc: 1.4k

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

it wasn't your first time sleeping over at riki's place. at this stage in your relationship it had become almost routine, you were able to walk around his apartment as if it were your own.

you were currently in the bathroom, just having finished showering. it wouldn't be unusual for you and riki to shower together, however he insisted on doing the dishes left over from dinner while you got the shower all to yourself.

the soft fabric of his shirt felt even better against your skin after you'd cleaned yourself. his smell immediately enveloped you, leaving your lips curled upwards in a smitten smile. why bring your own pjs when you could just wear his clothes? you hummed along to the faint song playing from your phone as you grabbed your toothbrush and got to work.

about a minute had passed, you were so immersed in brushing your teeth and listening to the music that you barely registered a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist slowly. your head shot up, only to see riki's tall frame hugging you through the mirror. his face was lazily buried in the crook of your neck, leaving stubborn strands of his hair to tickle your skin.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

"ki, i'm busy" you murmured, the words muffled with the toothbrush and toothpaste still in your mouth. you had to lean a bit more forward to reach the sink, since riki had pulled you flush against his chest.

"don't care, missed you" he hummed against your soft skin quietly, he loved how amazing and fresh you smelled after the shower.

you laughed softly in return, you were gone for a maximum of 20 minutes, plus you'd already spent the whole day together. yes, you knew your boyfriend was clingy but somehow it never ceased to surprise you. was this the same man that acted cool and closed off around his friends? you rolled your eyes in endearment, and you knew he'd probably start complaining if he saw it. not like you minded it one bit, you thought his soft demeanour was absolutely adorable. (you don't tell him that, he hates being called cute)

riki tugged at your waist gently, urging you to hurry up without words. "c'mon, stop being impatient" you scoffed and smiled, though he was too busy to listen, distracting himself by kissing your shoulder and neck softly.

the toothbrush was discarded in favour of your skincare products. riki's ears perked up at the sound, finally drawing his attention to what you were doing. his face turned from hopeful to disappointed, were you seriously planning on making him wait even more by putting stupid stuff on your face? not on his watch.

you reached for the first product, but your hand never made it. you let out a surprised yelp as riki picked you up in one swift motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing.

"riki!" you whined in protest, though you knew it was no use. you watched helplessly as he grabbed your phone and strolled out of the bathroom like it was the most normal thing ever. "i need to do my skincare! put me down." you tried sounding firm and strict, but failed comically.

"nah" his grip on your bare thighs was firm, before he practically threw you in his bed. riki didn't waste a second, he climbed in next to you and yanked you against his own body, knowing you might try to escape to finish your nightly routine.

his arms snaked around your waist once again, tight enough that there was no chance of you escaping from him, but also mindful not to hurt you. you groaned, feeling a little irritated that you wouldn't be able to finish your skincare. though it was impossible to stay mad when you looked down and saw your boyfriend cuddling you like you were a damn teddy bear. his long ass legs were now tangled with yours too.

"you're so annoying..." you murmured quietly, your voice lacking any real conviction. the words contrasted with your actions completely as you wrapped your arms around his neck and idly played with strands of his hair.

riki felt like he was in heaven. if it were up to him, you would never leave his bed ever again. he loved the way your small body fit perfectly against his, as if you were made just for him. your skin was soft and warm, making you his personal heater. he could feel every soft rise and fall of your chest, along with the faint sound of your heartbeat.

his hands began to wander mindlessly, slipping under your shirt (his shirt to be precise) to caress the bare skin there. you shivered slightly when you felt his feather light fingers trail down your spine, moving over the curve of your backside and stopping at your thighs to rub them gently.

your unfinished skincare was long forgotten now, all you could focus on was how good his touches felt. it was as if you could feel the love and care behind every single one, even when he was so tired and quiet. you thought your heart might burst from the amount of affection you had for him in this moment.

riki groaned softly when your fingers involuntary tightened in his hair. you removed your hands from his dark locks and cupped his face instead, gently pulling his face up so you could look at him. his messy bangs covered his eyes, but they seemed to be extra round right now as he looked up at you adoringly.

you were no expert on feelings but the look in his eyes made your stomach churn with a sudden rush of butterflies, you swore you could see hearts in his eyes. for a moment you were breathless, just staring at his pretty face.

he slowly inched closer, taking advantage of your distracted state to press his pink lips against yours gently. no matter how many times you kissed, it always made your heart race and your brain feel all fuzzy. his cheeks were warm and soft under your fingers, and time seemed to stop completely around you two.

you weren't sure how much time had passed as you were completely tangled against him, your lips moving each other leisurely. riki's hands wondered yet again, trying to caress and touch as much of your skin as he could, he absolutely adored every inch of you. every time you pulled away a bit for air, he would wait a second at most before diving right back in. the action made you smile against his lips, making your heart beat fast yet again.

minutes later, he pulled away and switched to pressing soft kisses across your face. your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, he didn't leave anything without a gentle smooch. you couldn't help the dumb smile that was plastered on your face, you closed your eyes and quietly let him do as he pleased. one of your hands detached from his cheek to once again stroke his hair.

riki opted to leaning back a little to appreciate your cute face, a faint blush visible on your cheeks. he poked your side lightly to get your attention, making you open and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "what?"

"nothing. you look pretty." he smirked, hoping to see you become even more flustered, he loved having that effect on you. knowing you were just as affected by him as he was by you.

seeing his smirk, you decided to tease him a little. "i'm gonna go finish my skincare." you announced abruptly and shifted, moving out of his arms as if you were actually about to leave the bed. to nobody's surprise, riki immediately pushed himself up and tugged you right back against him.

"you're not going anywhere, don't even try to leave." he playfully glared at you and pulled you so you were laying under him, caged between his arms.

before you could tease him further, he laid directly on top of you, crushing you with his weight. you let out a groan/laugh and nudged his shoulder, but he wouldn't budge.

"ki! i can't breathe!" you whined, wriggling under him in an attempt to get him to move. unfortunately for you, riki made absolutely no effort to get off you.

"looks like you're having a seizure, i might need to give you mouth to mouth so you don't die." he smirked yet again, and leaned down to kiss you before you could protest or complain.

safe to say, you didn't do your skincare that night. though, feeling his lips against yours was a damn good alternative.

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kaminari with a Girly S/O

Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou initially didn’t think he’d be into someone so “girly.” You’re the complete opposite of his rough and brash personality, but that’s part of what he finds so intriguing. He secretly likes the contrast between your sweet, feminine style and his explosive nature.

Even though he’s harsh and doesn’t outwardly show it, Bakugou becomes extremely protective of you. If anyone makes fun of you for being too feminine or underestimates your strength because of your style, he’s ready to explode—literally. He knows you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but he can’t help stepping in to defend you.

He might act annoyed when you spend time doing things like makeup, shopping, or picking out outfits, but he secretly loves watching you. He’ll grumble about how long it takes, but deep down, he thinks you look amazing in everything you wear. Bakugou notices the little details, even if he pretends not to care.

Though he’s not the most romantic guy, Bakugou will do small things to show his affection for your girly side. He’ll begrudgingly hold your shopping bags or surprise you with a perfume he noticed you liked once. His gifts are always practical but thoughtful, even if he rolls his eyes while giving them.

Around you, Bakugou’s rough edges smooth out a bit. He doesn’t mind if your girly nature rubs off on him occasionally—like when you convince him to try a skincare routine or pick out a shirt that’s a bit more stylish than his usual choices. He’ll grumble, but he’ll secretly appreciate it because it’s from you.

Shoto Todoroki

Todoroki finds your girly style elegant and refreshing. He loves how you express yourself through your clothing and accessories, and he’s often fascinated by the effort you put into looking nice. He doesn’t fully understand the nuances of makeup or fashion, but he quietly admires how it suits you so well.

Todoroki is a very thoughtful partner, so he’ll pay close attention to the things you like. If he notices you admire a particular necklace or flower, he’ll surprise you with it out of the blue. He might not know a lot about fashion or trends, but he’s always learning what makes you happy.

If you ask Todoroki to join you in your girly activities, like shopping or even trying out skincare routines, he’s surprisingly open to it. He’s not the type to shy away from things just because they seem feminine. He’ll listen carefully to your advice and even take it seriously if it means spending more time with you.

Todoroki isn’t the type to gush over how cute you look, but his compliments are sincere and to the point. “You look beautiful,” he’ll say with such a calm, genuine tone that it makes your heart flutter. He may not be overly expressive, but you know he appreciates your style and appearance deeply.

He never underestimates your strength just because of your girly appearance. Todoroki respects you as an individual and sees your style as an extension of who you are, not something that defines your abilities. He’ll always support you, whether you’re dressed to the nines or in battle gear, treating you with the same respect.

Denki Kaminari

Kaminari is all about having a girly S/O. He thinks your style is super cute and loves showing you off to his friends. He’s not shy about complimenting you or telling others how lucky he is to be with someone as fashionable and put-together as you are.

Kaminari is always hyping you up, calling you “gorgeous,” “stunning,” or “the most beautiful person in the world.” He’s playful about it, but he genuinely means every word. He’ll even try to join in on the fun by asking you to help him pick out outfits or style his hair, joking that he needs to look as good as you.

Whatever your girly interests are—whether it’s makeup, fashion, or cute accessories—Kaminari is fully supportive. He’ll go shopping with you and even try to learn a thing or two. He’s that boyfriend who’s willing to hold your purse while you’re trying things on and will tell you, “You look amazing,” no matter what you’re wearing.

Kaminari will occasionally try out your girly things just for fun. You might catch him trying on your jewelry or playing around with your makeup, goofing off to make you laugh. He’s not afraid to embrace his playful side around you and loves making you smile, even if he ends up looking ridiculous.

Despite your girly appearance, Kaminari knows you’re no pushover. He’s always reminding you how cool it is that you can be so feminine and still kick major butt. “You’re, like, the total package,” he’ll say with a grin, admiring how you balance strength and style effortlessly.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[lionhanie]

leehan as your boyfriend! ♡

established relationship, PURE fluff, leehan x reader, leehan is IN LOVE with you, also not proofread LOL!!!!!!!

word count: ~800 i think lol

warnings: none

a/n: i can't lie this whole thing was sooo self indulgent i just love him so bad #GUILTY!

literally does everything in his power to make you smile and feel good... #1 boyfriend in the world i fear!

he must have the ability to read the minds of the people he loves bc he just knows what you need all the time

...or rather than this, all of his opinions and preferences become whatever you like! (without complaint ofc, because he’s okay with anything as long as you’re satisfied)

this makes me think he’s rlly big on quality time because he seems like the type of bf to be content with just. whatever! as long as you’re there ^_^

quite literally only has eyes for you

he doesn’t really *intend* to do this, but it is so difficult for him to focus on anyone else if he has *you* there with him

everyone will always complain when they hangout with just you two bc they will always end up feeling like a third wheel :skull: 

even if you try to tease him for literally adoring you 24/7 he wouldn’t even be flustered or embarrassed. he would just nod and smile in agreeance U_U

he’ll always go out of his way to compliment you too, telling you how cute you look or how good you are at doing something. he gets a little shy every time you compliment him, but he always recovers by turning the praise back to you

even though he isn’t the best texter, i imagine he would put in extra effort to keep you updated throughout the day-- especially if it's hard to spend a lot of time together in person

you're just going about your day at school/work and you hear a notification on your phone... it's leehan sending you like 10 different angles of the new friends he got for his fish tank

or it's one of his selfies that are either 1) blurry, 2) crop out like 80% of his face, 3) at an unnatural selfie angle, or 4) all of the above. regardless, he's still your handsome boyfriend & looks amazing in every pic he sends

unironically i think he would be a DRY texter LMFAO but the way he communicates is kind of endearing. rather than sending messages, he def has a concerningly large album of reaction pics he uses for every possible situation (including ones he made himself using pics of you & the members)

dates with him are SO fun.

again, he doesn't really care too much about what you two do as long as he gets to spend time together... he's just down to try Anything and Everything so you guys never really run out of things to do together

being so eager to try new activities, i can 100% see him suggesting the most obscure data ideas & being so genuinely excited to do it no matter how odd it may seem given the context

cause Boy wdym you think fishing in a river at 12am is a fun idea for a date... it’s not necessarily like you were going to say no .... but also… this isn’t a common date activity, right?

i think he loves staying in with you the most….. sleepover!!! :3

especially after you both had tiring days; spending a night in with each other never fails to recharge you both!

ordering any food you want (he isn’t planning on eating much, so he’d rather get something you’re craving) ((after a couple bites he sits back and watches you eat w/ the biggest grin on his face))

but i think the absolute BEST part of the night is when the two of you are side by side at the bathroom counter doing a Twelve Step Skincare Routine that leehan made himself

and you’re giggling the whole time bc he takes his skincare SERIOUSLY. (that one mf who don’t play about his skincare bye)

i think he’d be super attentive, but silently though

you’d never know he’s constantly keeping track of your reactions to certain things, your different routines, your food preferences, the types of clothes you like

Ok in theory it /sounds/ creepy but he just puts in the effort to observe the way you like to do things so he can help you whenever you need it

IMAGINE you’re running late & you can’t find your phone /again/ and you’re lowkey freaking out because you Need To Leave Now but leehan just steadies you and hands you your phone

and ur kind of in awe ??? i've been looking for this for ten minutes now... How Do you have this …?

he just shrugs and explains “you always leave it underneath the blanket when you make the bed so i figured it might be there again" and motions for you to hurry before you’re late

or maybe you’re feeling under the weather & you ask him to make you a hot drink to help soothe your throat and he comes back with a mug of tea made EXACTLY how you make it for yourself

you're pleasantly surprised upon taking your first sip because …you don’t recall ever telling him how you like your tea? 

then he's sitting there with stars in his eyes and saying “i made it properly, right? :3” (clearly very proud of himself bc he remembered how you like it)

doesn't seem like the type to be too extra when it comes to PDA. if anything, he prefers small and/or secret interactions in public (it feels more intimate if only you guys know what's happening)

head pats. that’s it. he thinks the way you literally melt whenever he pats your head is the most endearing thing ever, so he'll save it /specifically/ when you're out w/ a group of people because he loves seeing you so flustered afterwards

keeping a hand on the small of your back or resting his arm on the back of your chair when you're sitting next to each other

holding your hand in his under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you continue to talk with the others at the table

at the end of the day... he just loves you so dearly & couldn't be happier knowing that he can call you his, and you can call him yours :,)

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[yassbishimvintage]

Shut it Down

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

MDNI!

A/N: Merry Christmas y'all.

The sun was shining down in Imani’s face. She had to tear herself away from Terry this morning. Her sister Maya wanted to have breakfast with her to check in. “So now that he’s home how is he?” She asks. Imani sighs. She had to be careful of how she answered the next question. Even though Terry loved her family like his own, he still didn’t want to show weakness. 

Imani sipped her coffee as her sister, Maya, watched her curiously from across the diner booth. They had always been close, and Maya could read her like a book. Setting her mug down, Imani took a moment to gather her thoughts before answering.

"He’s... adjusting," Imani replied softly. "It’s been tough for him. Losing Mike, the stress of everything back in Shelby Springs... it’s a lot to process."

Maya nodded, her brow furrowing with concern. "That man has been through hell and back, hasn’t he?" she said. "But what about you? You okay? I know you’re strong, but you can’t pour from an empty cup, sis."

Imani smiled faintly at her sister's words. "I’m okay," she said, though the truth was more complicated. "I just want to be there for him, you know? He’s carrying so much, and I can see it weighing on him. Some days he’s better, but others... it’s like he’s still fighting a battle, just in his head now."

Maya reached across the table and placed her hand over Imani’s. "You’re doing more than enough, Imani. He’s lucky to have you. But make sure he knows it’s okay to lean on you, really lean on you. Sometimes men like him think they have to bear it all alone."

Imani nodded. "I try to remind him of that every day," she said. "Last night, he... he let me in a little more. It’s progress, I guess. I just want him to see that he’s not alone anymore."

Maya leaned back, studying her sister. "You love him, don’t you?"

"With everything in me," Imani said without hesitation.

Maya smiled. "Then he’s got a fighting chance. But don’t forget—taking care of yourself is part of taking care of him. Don’t lose sight of that."

Imani gave her sister a grateful look, appreciating the reminder. "I won’t," she promised. "Thanks, Maya."

"Anytime," Maya said with a wink. "Now, tell me more about this roast beef dinner you made last night. I’m starting to think you’re spoiling that man."

Imani chuckled. "I might be. But he deserves it."

They spent the rest of breakfast laughing and catching up, Imani feeling lighter after the conversation. She had her sister's support, and that meant everything.She smirks. “Now. How’s the sex?” She asks. Imani nearly choked on her coffee, her eyes widening as she looked at Maya. "Really? That’s what you’re asking me right now?" she said, trying to keep her voice down.

Maya raised an eyebrow, unbothered by Imani’s reaction. "Of course, I’m asking. You’ve been glowing lately, so either it’s the sex, or you’ve found a new skincare routine, and I know you too well to believe the latter."

Imani rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile from tugging at her lips. "It’s… amazing, as always," she admitted, her voice dropping slightly. "He’s just... so attentive. Like, he takes his time, you know? Makes sure I’m good before anything else."

Maya leaned in, her interest clearly piqued. "Girl, go on. Don’t leave me hanging."

Imani laughed softly, shaking her head. "Let’s just say he knows exactly what I need, even when I don’t say it. And he’s so... gentle with me, but not too gentle, if you know what I mean."

Maya grinned mischievously. "Oh, I know what you mean. Big, strong, marine boyfriend who’s soft for you but can turn it up when needed? Imani, you’re living the dream."

Imani blushed but couldn’t help laughing. "Okay, enough about my sex life. How’s yours?"

Maya waved her hand dismissively. "Nonexistent at the moment, but that’s fine. I’m focused on me right now. But seriously, I’m happy for you. It sounds like Terry really sees you and loves you the way you deserve."

Imani nodded, her expression softening. "He does. And I don’t take that for granted, not for a second."

Maya raised her coffee mug in a toast. "To men who love us right and know how to handle business."

Imani laughed, clinking her mug against her sister’s. "I’ll drink to that.” Maya turns her head to glance out the window. She sees a black GMC Dua..ley pull into the parking lot. “Who’s that?” she asks. 

Imani turned to look where Maya was pointing and spotted the large GMC Dually parked a few spaces away. The truck was pristine, its black paint gleaming under the morning sun, with chrome accents that looked freshly polished. It stood out among the sedans and SUVs in the lot.

Imani raised an eyebrow, recognizing it immediately. "That’s Terry’s truck."

Maya’s eyes widened as she leaned closer to the window. "Wait, he followed you here? What is he, your bodyguard now?"

Imani couldn’t help but chuckle. "No, he probably just wanted to check in on me. You know how he is."

Maya smirked. "Yeah, overprotective and a little territorial. But honestly, can you blame him? Look at you."

Imani rolled her eyes but smiled, gathering her things. "Come on, let’s go say hi before he thinks I’m avoiding him."

As they stepped outside, Terry climbed out of the truck, his towering frame and confident stride impossible to miss. He wore a simple fitted T-shirt and jeans, but the way he carried himself made him look effortlessly commanding.

"Hey, babe," Imani called, walking up to him. "What are you doing here?"

Terry flashed her a small smile, his eyes softening when they met hers. "Just wanted to see you. Figured you might want to grab lunch after you’re done with your sister."

Maya crossed her arms, looking between them with a teasing grin. "You’re setting the bar way too high for the rest of us, Terry. Showing up unannounced just to take her to lunch?"

Terry shrugged, his smile turning a bit sheepish. "What can I say? I like spending time with her."

Imani shook her head, trying to hide her amusement. "Well, since you’re here, why don’t you come sit with us for a bit?"

Terry glanced at Maya, who raised her hands in mock surrender. "Don’t worry, big guy. I’ll keep the embarrassing sister stories to a minimum."

He chuckled, holding the door open for both women. "Appreciate that."

Maya smirks and quickly asks him. “So tell me Mr Marine. What kind of sex spell you got on my little sister.” She says

Terry paused mid-step, his brow arching as a slow smirk spread across his face. "Excuse me?" he asked, his deep voice laced with amusement. He glanced at Imani, who was already groaning in embarrassment, her hand covering her face.

"Maya!" Imani hissed, shooting her sister a glare.

"What?" Maya said innocently, shrugging as she took her seat. "I’m just saying. She’s been glowing since y’all got together, and I’m convinced it’s not just the happy weight."

Terry chuckled, taking the chair beside Imani and resting an arm casually on the back of her seat. His eyes flicked to Maya with a mischievous gleam. "Let’s just say I aim to please," he said smoothly, his tone playful but carrying enough weight to make Maya blink in surprise.

Imani gasped, turning to him. "Terry!"

He laughed, leaning over to kiss her temple. "What? She asked."

Maya burst out laughing, clapping her hands. "Alright, I see you, Marine. No wonder she’s hooked."

Imani shook her head, trying to hide her smile. "You’re impossible, both of you."

Maya grinned, picking up her coffee. "Hey, I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so happy all the time. If it’s because of him, then props to you, Terry. You’re doing something right."

Terry shrugged, his expression softening as he looked at Imani. "She deserves to be happy. That’s all that matters to me."

Maya tilted her head, a rare seriousness settling in her tone. "Well, as long as you keep that mindset, we’re good. I’m just looking out for my baby sister."

Terry nodded, his voice steady. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

Imani glanced between the two, her heart full as she reached for Terry’s hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.

When she gets in his truck she rests her head on the glass. Everytime he drives his hand rests on her thigh.

As Terry drove, the hum of the engine and the subtle rhythm of the tires on the pavement filled the quiet between them. Imani leaned her head against the cool window, her thoughts wandering as the scenery blurred past. The warmth of Terry’s hand resting on her thigh was a steadying comfort, grounding her in the moment.

It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about their bond. His thumb moved in absentminded circles, a habit he had whenever his hand found its home there. She glanced down at it and smiled softly, her fingers drifting to rest lightly over his.

"You okay, baby?" he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

She turned her head slightly to look at him, the way his strong hands gripped the wheel and how his eyes flicked between her and the road. "I’m okay," she replied, her voice gentle. "Just thinking."

Terry gave her thigh a small squeeze, his way of saying he was there for her without needing words. "About what?"

"About how much I love this," she said softly, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before returning to the passing view outside.

"This?" he asked, his brow arching slightly.

"This," she repeated, covering his hand with hers. "The little things. You driving us, your hand here...it’s just us. I love it."

Terry smiled, his expression softening as he gave her thigh another squeeze. "I love it too," he said simply.

And with that, they fell back into a comfortable silence, letting the unspoken connection between them speak louder than words ever could.

He pulls over. She lifts her head up confused. Terry eased the truck onto the shoulder of the quiet road, the hum of the engine settling into a low idle. He turned to her, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let’s play 'wandering hand,'" he said, his voice deep and teasing, the hint of mischief in his eyes unmistakable.

Imani couldn't help but roll her eyes, though a soft laugh escaped her. "Terry," she said, her tone half-amused, half-scolding.

"What?" he replied, feigning innocence as his free hand left the steering wheel and settled on her knee. "You know the rules."

His fingers began their slow, deliberate journey, trailing up her thigh in featherlight strokes that sent a shiver through her. Imani pressed her lips together, trying to maintain composure, but the way his touch lingered just enough to tease made her heart race.

"You’re impossible," she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her voice.

"And you love it," he shot back, his grin widening as his hand slipped just beneath the hem of her skirt.

Imani reached out, placing her hand over his to halt his progress, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her resolve. "You’re going to get us caught, Terry."

"We’re parked," he said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent heat spiraling through her. "And it’s not like anyone’s around."

She bit her lip, trying to resist the pull of his charm, but when his lips brushed against her neck and his hand resumed its exploration, resistance became futile. "You’re lucky I love you," she whispered, her voice shaky as she gave in to the moment.

His soft chuckle against her skin was his only reply as the game of "wandering hand" took on a life of its own, the world outside the truck fading into the background.

Terry’s hand paused at the waistband of her panties, his fingers teasingly slipping just beneath the fabric. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, “You gonna let me keep going, baby?”

Imani’s breath hitched, her body responding before her mind could form words. She glanced at him, her gaze caught in the intensity of his eyes. “Terry...” she began, her voice soft, laced with a mix of hesitation and desire.

His thumb stroked the delicate skin of her hip, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. “Say the word, and I’ll stop,” he said, his voice calm but thick with want. “But if you want me to keep going... I need to hear you say it.”

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as she let out a shaky exhale. The heat of his hand, the gentle yet deliberate pressure of his touch, sent sparks skittering through her. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her words barely audible, but they carried all the permission he needed.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips with his as his hand slid lower, exploring her with the same care and attention that always left her breathless. The world outside the truck was forgotten entirely as they lost themselves in each other, the quiet intimacy between them deepening with every touch and kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless and tangled in the charged energy of the moment, Terry rested his forehead against hers. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

Imani smiled, her cheeks flushed. “Right back at you,�� she replied softly, her hands resting on his shoulders as the truck’s engine purred quietly in the background.

“Now I’m turned on and we’re no where near home.” She says. 

Terry smirked, his eyes darkening with mischief. “Who said we need to be home for me to take care of you?” he teased, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down her spine.

Imani raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, so you’re bold now, huh?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer so his lips brushed against her ear. “I’ve always been bold, baby. You just bring it out of me.”

Her cheeks flushed as she swatted at his chest. “Terry, you’re impossible.”

He grinned, his hand still resting possessively on her thigh. “Only for you.”

His hand moved up her thigh as they drove down the road. His thumb doing lazy circles on her exposed skin.

As Terry’s hand moved higher up her thigh, Imani let out a soft breath, feeling the warmth of his touch spread through her. She glanced over at him, catching the glint of mischief in his eyes as his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles. Her heart raced a little, the anticipation of their playful energy making her pulse quicken.

That’s when she couldn’t take it anymore. Not the first time and won’t be the last time they had car sex. In her head she thanks him for the dark tint on the windows. Imani maneuvers herself over the console. She straddles him. “You know I hate car sex.” She says.

Terry chuckles softly, his hands resting on her hips as she straddles him. “You always say that, but then you seem to enjoy it once we get started.” He smirks, his lips brushing against her ear as he speaks.

Imani laughs quietly, leaning in closer. “It’s the lack of space. I like to take my time,” she responds, her hands sliding up his chest as she finds comfort in the familiar closeness of his body.

He presses his forehead to hers, his voice turning playful but with a touch of sincerity. “If you don’t like it, we can always find somewhere else next time.”

She smiles, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Next time,” she repeats softly, her fingers trailing down his chest, slowly teasing. “But for now...” she leans in, kissing him deeply as her body melts into his.

Terry, ever responsive to her, deepens the kiss, his hands moving to the small of her back to pull her even closer. As the moment lingers, they forget about the cramped space, lost in the connection they share.

“Now. Let me hear you moan for me real fast.” He says. She moans as his hands reach their destination. One thing that always made sure that made him on rock hard was her moans. In the next breath, “Now. Tell me you love me.” He says.

-

As they arrived at their destination, Imani instinctively reached for Terry's hand, intertwining her fingers with his. She gave it a gentle squeeze, glancing up at him with a soft smile.

“You ready?” she asked, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

Terry nodded, his grip on her hand firm yet tender. “As long as you’re with me, I’m ready for anything,” he replied, his tone carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @haechvn @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7 @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque

[deadlynavigation]

Pretty & Pink

Warnings: swearing

Author’s Note: request from @cecebabs !! school has been kicking my ass lately so just bear with me yall 🥲

Navigation

**gif is not meant to be a representation of what reader looks like**

Opposites attract—or at least, that’s what they said. Wednesday had never put any stock into the saying until he met you.

You were a bright little thing, full of happiness and hope and all the other disgusting emotions. But Wednesday endured, because at the end of the day, you held his heart in your manicured hand.

Every once in a while, though, he’ll question what he’s doing. Like tonight, for instance. It had been a long day. The errands that had been piling up over the week were finally accomplished a few hours ago, and it was exhausting. So exhausting that all he wanted to do was collapse in the nearest bed, no matter the owner or location. And since you didn’t want your partner to end up in some alleyway mattress, you dragged him over to your apartment, where he was currently camped out on your bed.

“You doing okay in there, sweetie?” You call to him from your bathroom, hands dripping with water as you rinse your cleanser off.

“Yes, my love. Are you done yet?” Wednesday calls back. He knows his question is in vain, though. Your skincare routine is a long ordeal, and you’ve only just started.

He hears your soft laughter float through the air. “I’ll be right out.” You respond, picking up a serum.

Wednesday decides he can’t wait, heading into the bathroom and settling behind where you stand. You greet him with a smile, picking up the next step of your routine to show to him.

“It’s a new moisturizer I got today,” You explain. “It’s supposed to be good for dry skin, and with all the nasty weather lately…”

Wednesday doesn’t hear the rest of your rant, focusing instead on those pretty eyes of yours. Oh, how he longs to drown in them. To sink into their depths, seeing the world from your hopeful view. Unpacking all your thoughts, understanding and empathizing.

Listen to him. He’s practically a puddle of mush. What have you done to him?

“...Wednesday, baby?” You tilt your head as Wednesday snaps back into reality. “Were you even listening?”

He takes one more second to stare at you before sheepishly shaking his head. “Deepest apologies, cara mia. There are simply too many pretty parts to you, I cannot focus on every one of them at once.”

You giggle, a blush tinting your cheeks. “Maybe I should turn away, then. Stop distracting you with my wiles.”

Wednesday smirks. “Turning away from me would entice me even more, Y/n. You really want to play that game?”

“Oh my god. Ok, I’m not facing you anymore. You’ve lost that privilege.” Your cheeks are on fire now, and if you maintain eye contact any longer, you’re worried you might burst into flames. True to your word, you pivot to face the mirror. Then, using your arms, you hop up onto the counter, climbing into the sink for an optimal view.

Wednesday nearly has a heart attack as you jump. His hands fall into place, ready to catch you or save your head from a nasty bang should your acrobatics go wrong, but once you’re in place, he sighs loudly.

“Must you do that, my love?” His seriousness is ruined by a smile creeping onto his face.

“Sorry, can’t hear you. This moisturizer requires my full attention.” It’s hard tamping down your own smile, but the teasing seems to be worth it as Wednesday’s stare darkens.

“The moisturizer gets your attention, hm? That’s a dangerous game, cara mia.”

You don’t respond, instead dipping your finger into the container and dotting it on your cheeks.

“Come down from that sink so we can see who really has your attention right now.” Wednesday taunts you. After a couple seconds, you give in, closing up the product and carefully setting it down before jumping back down onto the floor. Within seconds, Wednesday takes a step and sits on the edge of the bathtub, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you along at the same time. Before you know it, you’re sat on his lap, a smirk on his face and a shocked look on yours.

“Attention still on skincare, love?” Wednesday teases.

You give up on the facade. “No,” You breathe, leaning in. “But what if I share my attention with it?”

Wednesday’s eyebrows furrow as you get up, reaching into the bottom drawer of the counter and coming back to him with a small package. You sit back down, ripping it open and tossing the top in the trash.

“Want a face mask?” You ask.

“Is that one of those grotesque concoctions that spreads all over your face? The one that looks like a death mask?” Wednesday questions, but you’re already reaching into the package.

“Exactly, baby. Want one?”

“...Sure.” What’s the worst that could happen?

Twenty minutes later, and Wednesday is set up on your bed with no intention of moving. A green substance covers the majority of his face, making him question why he doesn’t let you do this more often. He feels more relaxed than he has in weeks, settled in amongst your many pink throw pillows and cherry blossom sheets. You’re settled in too, resting your head on his chest while trying to sync your breaths with the steady thumps of his heart. Your manicured fingers etch random shapes into his skin, tracing the hard lines of muscle and adding a heart or two every so often.

Eventually, though, the both of you become restless.

‘Wanna start a movie?” Wednesday asks, looking down at your comfy self with adoration.

You look up, meeting his eyes with the same love. “Can I choose?”

“Of course, Y/n. Anything for you.”

An hour later, and Wednesday is ready to commit homicide. Of all the movies you could have picked, you went with Mean Girls. Your defense? “It’s the feminist movement at its finest, Wednesday.”

“It’s… very pink.”

“Yeah, that’s the best part! All the decorations and outfits are amazing. They were actually part of what inspired this room’s decor.”

Wednesday looks around at the brightly colored walls, the pastel curtains, the cute pillows, and even the pink pens scattered across your desk. “I never would’ve guessed, my love.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re just jealous.”

Wednesday chuckles. “Yes, very.” He agrees sarcastically. You don’t dignify him with a response, instead choosing to lay back down on his chest and go back to watching the movie. You don’t get to stay there for very long, though, because a minute later, the timer on your phone goes off.

“Mkay. Time to take this off, babe.” You poke his face mask. Wednesday rises without complaint, heading to the bathroom while you grab some water and a cloth. Internally, though, he’s begging you not to. It feels so nice, and having you apply it was one of the best feelings in the world.

As you start working through the layers of the mask with water and a gentle hand, though, Wednesday revises his thoughts—never mind the application. This was the best feeling in the world.

As you work, Wednesday leans into your hands. He would have fallen asleep if it weren’t for your whispered promises of comfy beds and pillows and cuddles.

*****

The next morning, Wednesday gets up much earlier than usual. The sun is just barely up, peeking through your pastel curtains and coating the bed in a buttery yellow. You’re burrowed into his arms, tucked safely into his chest with the messy blankets surrounding you. He takes a minute to absorb your cuteness, smiling down at you as he slowly wakes up.

“Good morning, Y/n.” He whispers, not yet wanting to wake you. You’ve reminded him time and time again that the blinking digits on the clock right now are not digits you ever want to be awake to see, and he’s taken that to heart. But he still has to kill time until you wake–maybe a run? He could drop by the gym just down the street that he really likes. Or maybe a chore? The dishwasher still needs to be unloaded.

But those all sound like too much work for this early in the day, so Wednesday settles on just getting you a coffee. A nice five-minute walk and your drowsy smile to greet him when he gets back. Perfect.

Within minutes, Wednesday is up and out. He strolls down the street, taking his time to enjoy the soft sunlight. That’s new, he suddenly realizes–and probably your doing, as well. You’re a fan of tilting your face to the sun, soaking in the warmth, and claiming the rays cheer you up. Maybe you’ve passed that onto him.

A couple more minutes tick by, and Wednesday reaches your regular coffee shop. He enters the place with a little jingle as the door opens, and is immediately greeted with the scent of dark coffee and light chatter.

“What can I get for you this morning, sir?” A too-happy employee asks him as he walks up to the counter.

Damn, what was that drink you really liked? Something with pink in it, he’s sure of it.

“Just two medium coffees, one black and one with that pink flavor, please.” Manners with normies–that’s another thing you’ve unknowingly reinforced with him.

“Our pink velvet flavoring?” That sounds right.

“Yes, that’s it. Thanks.” Wednesday pulls out his card, handing it to the guy.

“Awesome. Name?”

“Addams.”

“We’ll have those coffees right out for you, sir.”

“Brilliant.” With that, Wednesday finds an isolated corner to haunt until his name is called, quickly grabbing the coffees and exiting the building. It’s an even quicker walk back with the warm drinks providing some heat on this chilly morning.

It’s a bit of a struggle, but Wednesday manages to buzz into the building, climb the stairs to your apartment, and work the keys until your door clicks open, all with his hands full. He’s greeted with the sight of you half-asleep on the couch, the news playing softly in the background.

“What are you doing up, love?” He questions, setting the coffees down on the coffee table and kneeling on the floor.

“Wanted to see you,” you mumble, grabbing for his hand and interlocking it with yours. “Was cold in the bed without you.”

Wednesday practically melts. How can one girl be so sweet and caring? So happy?

“I’m sorry, my love. But look, I got you that coffee you like to make up for it.” He gestures to the beverages with his free hand before resting it on your head. He goes about stroking your hair, lulling you back into a dreamlike state.

“Don’t do that, I’ll fall back asleep,” you bat at his hand, trying to get it out of your hair. You were up to see him, not to fall asleep on him.

“And I will still be here when you wake up, cara mia. Go back to sleep. You’re safe here. I love you.”

[another-lost-mc]

a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist

[bearzflu]

✦ relationship with members ✦ (maknae line)

enha 8th member navi

✦ SUNOO ✦

her one and only therapist in the group

no literally, minsi goes to him for everything and seeks advice

she trusts him with all her secrets and feelings and they have a 2am vent session every now and then (hes a great listener)

so cute and soft together

do skincare routines together every night, to the point where he feels weird when he's putting on a face mask without her

he is minsi's safe space and vice versa

sunoo immediately feels better in her presence, she doesn't even have to do anything!

he feels sulky? find minsi and hes all smiles

he is the type to notice every single detail and expression of minsi

"gonna go prank minsi again" ni-ki snorts "don't she's feeling under the weather today" "wha- she's literally smiling though"

✦ JUNGWON ✦

best friendsss! same age twins & kitty twins

they almost immediately got along as soon as they met

share so many interests and hobbies together

even share similar music taste

everytime jungwon finds a new song he likes, he is seen walking up to minsi with a dimpled grin "listen to this, i know you're gonna love it"

had a crush on minsi during trainee days but soon had a realization that they were better off as friends (still feels jealous time to time!)

as we know jungwon to be very composed and mature, he takes on this role very seriously when it comes to minsi

see a weird fan following minsi? he has two security guards by the time she even notices the incident

however this also means she gets the privilege of him not showing her his scary leader side

"jake you made a mistake during this part" jungwon says with a stern gaze "wait look minsi made a mistake too! wasn't just me" "she just lost her balance, aw look how cute" jungwon now seen with a wide smile watching her slip trying to readjust "ok what-"

✦ NI-KI ✦

the playful duo

it's a love and hate relationship (mostly love believe me)

ni-ki loves annoying minsi

don't worry she does the same back

he also lovesss pranking her and got in trouble once for making her cry

"look a spider on your hair" "ni-ki are you serious" her eyes start tearing up "WAIT DON'T CRY I WAS JOKING" ni-ki panics "look it's fake"

yeah well, he got a big scolding from all the other members...

from then on, his pranks have gone a more playful and lighthearted route

at the end of the day, he teases minsi because it's part of his love language

once he notices she's sad or not feeling well, looks out for her in his own special way

"here i got you some coffee" he says not even glancing at minsi "thanks ni-ki" she says smiling through her sniffles, he leaves with a smile on his face

[honeyhotteoks]

i never thought i'd be alive to see my man yunho show this much skin...

how are we doing miss chai? was your day memorable? your coffee warm enough? was this yunho treat enough to pull you through the week? i need thoughts on his UNBELIVABLE acting out bc im clearly not coping well

✨anon

ohhhhh ✨ anon you know me so well.

so how am i doing….. i’m actually amazing - my skin is clear, my bed was warm, my coffee is perfectly delicious. i’m in eastern time usa for those who don’t already know, so i was settling down on my couch with my coffee and my ipad, ready to scroll the news and twitter and then i got the notification…. and i could see in the thumbnail yunho was shirtless, and the rest, as they say, was a totalfuckingblackout i freaked out and threw my phone.

this yunho was definitely enough to pull me through the week though, i’m absolutely going to watch this every time work tests my patience because he’s seriously setting my monday up and my week up for something good.

but i actually do have so many thoughts about this as your resident yunho analyzer…. so if anyone’s interested:

During this Europe tour, three interesting things happened where it came to Yunho showing more skin. First, he did not go to the pool but did joke around with atiny on live who said he should have gone / were joking around about pool pics. Second, he showed up on that live in a tank top and was a little embarrassed about showing too much skin, but then when atiny assured him they’ve seen the same from other members, he said he’d remember that and to be more comfortable with atiny. Third…. his costumes for Europe tour have increasingly started to show more chest which is something he’s always been a little shy about, but especially since the Guerrilla wardrobe malfunction a while back. There’s the lace up white shirt of course, but his Silver Light white shirt is more unbuttoned than I’ve ever seen, and he’s no longer wearing a black turtleneck underneath the purple crushed velvet jacket that had the malfunction.

Next, I’ll mention in the recent voice live he was talking about skincare and his shower routine / hair routine because he had a break out, and was just kind of rambling about it and answering questions. At some point in this live he was like…. ah is this too much / not interesting? and apologized, but atiny encouraged him to keep sharing, they like that kind of thing etc. and were curious about what products he uses and his routine.

NOW take all of that information, and remember that Yunho historically does not show a lot of skin but does occasionally like to be a little extra (whether it’s the booty work tiktok, some of his cheekier boyfriend content etc., sometimes he just gets in the mood to show off)

So whenever he’s feeling like this he usually posts something boyfriendy or hiphop dance content, but I genuinely think he’s been live a ton lately and communicating with atiny a lot, and this was kind of swirling around - the idea that he has quite a modest persona combined with atiny pushing him to be himself more / be more comfortable.

I genuinely, genuinely believe he got a little jealous that everyone was talking about other members. We know he’s probably the most jealous one in ateez, the most possessive over his fans, and while yes…. that’s fanservice and he’s very good at it, I always see a nugget of truth in it when you watch his expressions on lives and stuff.

HOWEVER - Yunho is also not the type to post an outward thirst trap where like…. skin is showing. I think it makes him uncomfortable full stop, which is why people have been very respectful of him not showing too much skin / not circulating the wardrobe malfunction video etc. I think he likes the teasing elements (like when he checked if he had abs after Mingi’s photo shoot) but a lot of that reads slightly impulsive because he’s a little jealous and a little attention starved when his fans eyes start to wander.

So this video is the perfect middle. It’s boyfriend content, it’s soft content, it’s arguably not sexual in nature AT ALL and yet it’s the first time we’ve really seen his chest to this degree. He’s giving fans something they were asking for while sating his own desire for some amount of attention, and doing it in a way that I can only presume he’s way more comfortable with versus like…. shirtless bathroom pics / gym pics / dancing in something revealing etc.

He’s somehow struck the modest and showing off line so perfectly

I guess this is all to say….. Yunho is so fucking good at his job. He’s extremely attentive to what fans are saying and asking for, and he always leans into those things. Part of that is fan service and engagement, that would be natural for anyone making money off their persona or social media, but I also think some of this is just Yunho. It’s clear he enjoys connections with fans, showing off to them and being there for them, and some of his true personality is bound to bleed into that content.

I’ve also heard from him and other members that he’s one of the more “persona-less” members of Ateez. He’s not that different off camera, and I think that says something about these moments of content.

I think we can safely assume Yunho is that guy… he’s kinda dorky, kinda goofy, super fucking sweet, thoughtful, and LISTENS, and he also understands that appeal. He knows the boyfriend content is something he’s personally okay with and his fans love, because he understands it. He understands that some level of sexiness and skin is both appealing and effective, and he uses it sparingly and at the right times, often without being overtly sexual and more just being himself, which is the ultimate form of boyfriend content after all.

Anyways…. that’s my brain rot on yunho for the day. I’m here to say, this man knows what his fans want and knows how to deliver within boundaries HE is comfortable with and I think that’s really commendable. I’m also just further and further convinced that he’s a good guy who’s only real “fault” is an aries jealous streak and good lord we aren’t complaining out here about that when he shows up doing shit like this.

[anothermansjeans]

I just think it would be so sweet youtuber!reader and Spencer recording a skincare video, being silly with face masks and the whole thing (obviously normally he just washes his face with water before bed but the reader is in the process of changing that)

oh my god this was going one place and then i took it somewhere else LMAO but i love this sm! thanks for sending it in 🫶

cw: fluff, menace spencer at it again, soooooooo sweet it will give you a toothache

wc: 1k

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

“You ready, babe?”

Spencer looked down at the vanity adorned with various products, giving you a small nod before looking between you and the camera. Ever since watching Spencer just rinse his face off with water one morning about a week ago, you've been brewing up the idea of a skincare routine video to get him in the groove of taking his skin health seriously. For a man who loves to tell you what products (or lack of products) aren't helping your skin, he sure did little to make sure his routine was up to his standards.

“Okay! Hello, lovelies! Today I’m with Spencer,” you gestured over to him, “and we are going to be doing my nighttime skincare routine! Spence, would you mind sharing with the audience your skincare routine?”

He furrowed his brows and looked over to you, “a routine is a sequence of actions regularly followed, like a fixed program. I don't have procedures I go through so I wouldn't classify it as a routine.”

“Okay,” you tried to maintain your giggles, “then tell them what you usually do for your skin before you go to bed.”

“Well,” he began, looking back at the cameras and talking with his hands, “Sometimes, if I feel as though my pores had excreted more oil than normal and Y/N’s face wash is out, I'd use that, but more times than not, she's in bed before me so I’ll just use water.”

A pout formed on your face as you looked at the camera. “Terrible, I know.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway,” you gently placed a hand on his arm, the action soothing him while simultaneously letting him know you meant no harm, “we’re going to fix that. Today, I’ll not only be showing you my routine, but also getting Spencer to do it with me!”

The video went on without a hitch. You started with a cleanser and then went into an exfoliator. Now, you had your container of clay mask sitting in front of the two of you. “Now we’re on the third step. This mask cleans pores, brightens skins, and detoxifies skin,” you look up from reading the jar to see a contemplative look on Spencer’s face. “You good, Spence?”

“Yes, yes, I just don't know how I would go about putting it on my face.”

With soft eyes, you gently opened the lid and scooped a small clump of the mask onto your finger. “I’ll put yours on for you, okay?”

He smiled and gave a nod before you swiped your finger down his cheek, spreading out what you had into a thin layer. “This feels nice,” he said, closing his eyes and letting out a soft hum.

“It’s supposed to.” The moment felt very domestic, and you couldn't wait for the time where you'd do this without the camera. The serenity of the moment was cut short though, when you went to scoop more of the mask onto your finger and the jar started to slip from your grasp. The shock of it almost falling sent one of your hands flying up, which caused whatever clay you had on your hand to fling onto Spencer’s unsuspecting face.

You registered the gasp he elicited when you stabilized the jar on the vanity, and when looking over at Spencer, you saw the splatter of clay painted across his face. “I am–” you started to laugh, but used your clean hand to cover your mouth, “I am so sorry, baby.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” His thin smile was giving mixed signals, but you assumed nothing of it when he changed to topic. “Could I take a look at the ingredients?”

Giving a quick nod, you didn't take notice of how quick he grabbed the mask and swooped his fingers in. Not a second later, you felt the cool substance flung across your face. All you did was blink at him– him, and his shit-eating grin– before folding your lips in and letting out a hum. “Spencer…”

His face slowly morphed into one of concern, “I don't know why I thought that was okay. Y/N, I’m sorry. We can clean this up and–” and a big splat sound echoed in the room and Spencer promptly shut his mouth when a lump of the mask landed on his forehead and began to drip down the bridge of his nose. Your laugh caused a fire to light in his eyes, and he once again grabbed the jar. “Oh, I see how it is.”

“You started a war, Spence.” When he aimed his fire, you stood up and ran over to your bed, grabbing a pillowcase. “You wouldn't target one of our very expensive pillowcases?”

“You're the one sacrificing it!” He flung the clay, and you used the pillow to block the blow. At the amount on the pillow, your eyes widened with humor, “That’s almost the entire jar!”

Laughing, Spencer stalked forward with another handful of the mask. “I’ll buy you more,” he said, cornering you before smearing his hand all down your face.

Your gasping giggles filled the room, and Spencer leaned his forehead down onto yours as you both calmed down. “This video has gone off track.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice was soft and gentle, a big contrast from the chaotic clay war from moments ago.

“Don't. I’m having more fun than anticipated.” Your arms made their way around his neck, gently carding your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Yeah, you still had the clay mask all over your hands, but you were over one-hundred percent sure the two of you would be taking a shower in less than five minutes.

“You didn't anticipate having fun with me while doing skincare?” His eyes held a playful glint.

Gently pulling his head down so that your lips grazed his, you whispered, “I always anticipate having fun with you, Dr. Reid.” And with that, he captured your lips with his, the face mask smearing all over your faces without a care in the world. The video was the last thing on your mind… you'll continue it at a later time.

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[jahayla-parker]

OMG another idea! what about freddy x wife!reader? where she is filming her morning routine (skin care, breakfast, mini workout or yoga or stuff like that, ya know?) and we see freddy in the background and he'll make small comments on stuff then just joins her half way through

Morning Routine : Freddy Carter x Wife!Reader

Descr: Freddy’s wife y/n is asked by Company UK (a British Magazine Agency) to film her morning routine for her fans and her husband ends up guest starring in it. Fluff

Warnings: mentions of exercise and medications., flirtations and relationship components, marriage, food/eating, I think that’s all!

“Hi everyone! It’s y/n y/l/n Carter! This is the first time I’ve done one of these, so hopefully you like it!” Y/n chuckled shyly. She bit her lip bashfully as she saw her husband mouth ‘you’ve got this’ from behind her camera. She pulled herself together and grinned at the camera as she began to explain what she was going to be recording today. The magazine, Company UK, had requested that she film a morning routine video for her fans.

“We’re going to start off with my skincare routine,” y/n narrated as she steadied her phone in the corner of the bathroom counter. “But, first I’m going to brush my teeth.”

“Okay now that that’s done,” y/n commented as she dried her mouth. “Time for skincare! So, I start with y/fav/product and we’re going to put a little of this,” she said and showed the camera her next product. “I just rub it in nice and gently like this and it’ll help to enhance things!” She grinned over at the camera as she set the latest product down. “And just like that, we’ve finished my daily skincare routine!”

“Even though she doesn’t need any of it to look as radiant as she always does”, Freddy commented lovingly as he walked past the doorway to their bathroom.

Y/n grinned widely and laughed giddily to herself. “Another part of my routine,” she winked and nodded her head backwards towards the door. “My hype man for life,” she beamed as she proudly lifted her left hand up to show her cherished wedding ring.

“So now that we’re back in the bedroom, I take my morning medications and supplements,” y/n informed her viewers as she walked to her dresser. “I like to take them with a full glass a water to start off my proper hydration for the day”. Y/n intentionally kept the bottles at an angle so that the names of her prescriptions wouldn’t be in view of the camera. “I won’t show what exactly I’m taking as I can’t give medical advice, after all, I’m not a doctor!” she joked with a careless shrug of her shoulders.

“Smart enough to be though,” Freddy murmured as he walked by. He gave y/n a quick kiss on her cheek as he continued on his route to their closet in order to grab some clean clothes out for himself for the day.

“They said to simply comment on my process and otherwise act as normal for the video,” y/n told the camera with a content smile. “And clearly, my sweet husband is taking that responsibility seriously”. It was true, Freddy was always loving on her like this.

“Mmm,” Freddy hummed and looked over at y/n due to hearing her mentioning him. “I can shut up,” he joked, blushing some. He grinned as his wife lovingly shook her head as she walked over to him. His grin grew as y/n relaxed in his arms and let him pull her in for a hug.

“I’m not complaining Freddy, but you know, they’re probably going to think it’s staged.”

Freddy shrugged, “let ‘em think what they will, love”. He brushed some hair from y/n’s forehead and looped it around her ear, his hand roaming admiringly over her cheek and jaw as she gazed warmly into his eyes. “I’m going to go change and then start brunch, alright?” He whispered softly. Y/n nodded making him hum softly and give her a tender squeeze before they parted.

“Uh anyways”, y/n spoke through her giggles as she moved closer to the camera. Focus. She blinked rapidly as she tried to guide her mind back to paying attention to her routine video and not on her sweet husband.

“So I don’t know if you guys could hear our conversation just now or not,” y/n transitioned, “but those of who have watched some of my husband Freddy’s more viral interviews will already know this, but he loves to cook breakfast slash brunch. Like loves it.” “I’m a very lucky woman,” she grinned. “So while he’s doing that,” she giggled, moving to grab her yfc yoga mat from the corner of their bedroom. “We’re going to do some yoga to get warmed up for a brief exercise a little later. But first, let me go change out of my pajamas cause this is a family show!” she joked showing her pajamas to the camera before pausing the recording. After changing into yoga pants and a loose comfy top, y/n resumed the video as she walked to the living room. “Alright, so let’s get going.” She began to narrate the process of setting up and starting her yoga. As y/n went through her yoga routine, she explained the poses and benefits of them for her fans. As she moved into her next pose, she noticed Freddy could be seen walking by behind her in the background. She concluded Freddy likely had no knowledge that he was in the shot as he stopped to smile at her, watching her silently for a moment. Y/n grinned and proudly continued to talk to the camera as Freddy resumed whatever he had been doing.

“Darling, you ready to eat?” Freddy called out as Y/n set her notebook down after having done some self care exploration/ personal growth work in it. She beamed excitedly as she stood up. She laughed at herself as she sprinted to grab her phone from its stand in order to keep the camera with her as she was to very eager to eat brunch with her husband.

As y/n made it to the table, Freddy pulled the chair out for her. Thanking him, she sat down beside him and kissed his cheek. He leaned over and reached around her as he moved to help prop the camera up.

“Wait, hold on,” y/n stopped Freddy. “They need to see the amazing meal you made,” she commented, momentarily taking her phone back. She turned her camera around as she showed the spread.

Freddy blushed proudly as he watched his happy wife. She was so precious.

When y/n was done showing off her husband’s cooking, she smiled at the camera, “okay!” She handed her phone back to Freddy and watched with appreciation at he set it up. However, when she checked to see what all was in the shot, she noticed Freddy wasn’t in it. She pouted lightly as she moved to adjust it. “You’re part of my routine, handsome,” she grinned, giggling as Freddy playfully retaliated to her flirting by attacking her sides with tickles before giving her a kiss.

After brunch, y/n stood up from the table, “I’m going to show them my morning workout. Wanna join, sweetheart?”

Freddy groaned dramatically but nodded his head in agreement. He pushed back from the table and began to gather the plates so he could wash them.

“Freddy,” y/n cooed. “I can get that, love” she argued, moving to stop his tidying up.

Freddy turned to look over his shoulder at y/n. “‘s alright, y/n/n,” he smiled. “Go on and get your camera and stuff set up in the gym, I’ll clean this up”.

Y/n tsked lovingly as she made her way over to Freddy. She hummed warmly and kissed his cheek as a thanks.

“Okay, so,” y/n explained after she finished stabilizing her phone in the gym. “Today is leg day,” she laughed as she began preparing each station. “I love leg day, but Freddy hates it.” Moving aside some random weights, she added, “I read somewhere that’s a common difference between men and women for some reason” with a shrug. “Truthfully, I didn’t remember it was leg day when I asked him to join, we’ll see if he’s still up for it,” she chuckled.

Freddy waltzed in with reusable water bottles for them both, a clueless smile on his lips. He winked as he made his way over to y/n. “All set up, darling?”

“Mmhm,” y/n hummed. “But, uh…” she trailed off. She pursed her lips as her husband stared back at her with his eyebrows raised in suspicion. She silently walked over to Freddy and batted her eyes at him.

“What did you do?” Freddy teasingly asked.

Y/n giggled innocently and shook her head, “nothing, but it’s leg day today”.

Freddy groans. “And cardio?”

Y/n softly nodded. “Are you still going to join me for both?” She pouted pleadingly.

Freddy smirked faintly at y/n’s overdramatic pout, looking away so as to not crack.

Y/n squinted in slight annoyance and gently turned Freddy’s head back towards her before she amplified her act.

A deep blush covered Freddy’s face as he nodded in acceptance.

“Yay! Thank you sunshine!” Y/n cheered as she kissed Freddy’s cheek. She then ran over to the treadmill. Unbeknownst to her, the camera picked up her husband grinning at her antics. “So we only have one the treadmill, so we’ll be alternating with each other,” she instructed, smiling over at her husband, “while I do an inclined sprint, Freddy will start with a circuit of mountain climbers, squatting burpees, and lunges”. “We’ll go for ten minutes then switch and repeat this cycle three times,” she explained.

As y/n and Freddy finished their last cycle of cardio, she sweetly dabbed Freddy’s sweaty forehead with a towel. “Alright honey, ready for some weighted, leg day exercises?” She inquired. When he begrudgingly agreed, she grinned and walked to her water bottle near her phone. “See, he loves me,” she said with a wink directed at the camera before smirking over at him.

Freddy chuckled as he made his way over.

“Boooo, you’re all sweaty,” y/n joked as Freddy gave her a brief hug.

“So are you, dear,” Freddy smiled, reaching up to fix some of y/n’s now-frizzy hair.

Y/n hummed quietly. She found herself leaning into Freddy’s hand for a moment as she caught her breath. “Don’t district me,” she gasped dramatically as she jokingly shook her head at him, stepping back.

“Are you sending this whole thing in?” Freddy questioned as he adjusted the metal bar so y/n could get up since she’d finished her reps.

Y/n shook her head as she took Freddy’s extended hand, letting him help her up. “No, I’m not going to make them watch us workout for an hour,” she giggled. “I’m gonna edit it first,” she informed him as she sat on the bench.

“Mmm, in that case,” Freddy murmured as he moved to pin y/n backwards against the bench.

“Freddy!” Y/n shrieked in surprise, as Freddy towered over her. Her eyes were wide as her laughter rang out around the room.

Freddy beamed and bent down to give his wife a sweet kiss. “That’s all I wanted,” he defended with an innocent expression. He stood up and helped y/n back up again.

“Mhmm,” y/n stated, side eyeing Freddy skeptically. “Behave yourself,” she teased with a light shove as she moved to grab weights for their next exercise.

“Alright, for a cool down we’re going to do some light stretching that’ll mostly focus on our legs to relax the muscles after weight training,” y/n told the camera.

“Ugh,” Freddy groaned. “Those are the worst,” he complained.

Y/n laughed. “You’re getting better!” She reassured, grinning when it caused Freddy to blush. “Now come on, you can do it.” She gave him an encouraging smile before moving to her yoga mat. “We’ll start with downward facing dog,” y/n instructed, getting into pose.

“My calves,” Freddy whined as he complied.

Y/n’s laughter made her posture shake a little. “Focus on your breathing, Freddy,” she advised, “each exhale, try to loosen those muscles”.

“Oh, this one’s not too bad,” Freddy observed as he sat in what y/n said was pigeon pose.

Y/n smiled over at her husband supportively. “See you’re doing it,” she commented sweetly.

Freddy nodded. “But I’m not doing that,” he stated dramatically as he watched y/n enhance her iteration of the pose by lifting her extended leg upward by pulling on her foot.

Y/n chuckled loudly. She glanced over at Freddy and took in the look of fearful disbelief he’d been making at her. She ended up laughing so hard she gracelessly dropped her foot back to the mat, “Freddy!”

“That wasn’t part of the instructions!” Freddy exclaimed defensively.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “You didn’t have to do that part.” “I just didn’t feel a stretch without it anymore”.

“Show off.”

“Hey!” Y/n scoffed as she leaned toward Freddy and gently pushed him over.

After some more stretching, the couple finally finished. “Alright, whew. We’re done!” Y/n said, dusting her hands off. “And that means, all that’s left in my morning routine is a shower to get cleaned up, so yeah! I hope you all had fun watching this!” She paused and looked over to Freddy who was curled up on the bench and shook her head teasingly. “Bye everyone!”

Once y/n had turned her phone’s camera off for the day, she slid the device into her yoga pants’ side pocket. “Honey?” She asked softly as she made her way overtoher husband. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and then you can relax on the couch some until you have to be on set, huh?” She offered, gently helping guide him off the gym bench with a loving smile.

Freddy Carter Navigation

Kaz Brekker Navigation

All My Works Masterlist Navigation

Tag List: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @alex-kazbrekkersimp @historynerd7 @opheliaofficial07 @el-de-phi @nikfigueiredo @whistle1whistle @booklover2389

[melancholymetropolis]

Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well. 

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring. 

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi. 

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call. 

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down. 

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before. 

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them. 

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly. 

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend. 

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship. 

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened. 

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss. 

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in. 

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”. 

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later. 

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage. 

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded. 

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep. 

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

-------

a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

-------

TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

[opiopal]

My physical head canons for the brothers that no one asked for but I’m sharing anyways because I can’t contain myself cause im a beast of headcanons that need to be released RARARARAR(don’t mind the cringe I’m sleep deprived,)

Lucifer

I like to imagine Lucifer with a slim face and bold cheekbones, he has side burns that look more like small black feathers and ofc he has eyebags, and he’s not as pale, having more of an olive skin tone. I’ve always imagined him with a hooked nose as well, along with more gray hairs. His ears are pointed upwards and are decently long. He still has a slim waist in my brain but also a bolder chest and shoulders. He’s not very muscular but still looks strong for his age(got those baby holdin arms). He has Insanely good posture and I imagine him in his regular outfit as is(though I like to imagine his stupid fuckin shoes are at least a darker brown). He is the third tallest in the household.

Mammon

His face shape is relatively the same in my brain, minus the addition of his ears being pointed, though I always tend to imagine his skin a few shades darker then what it is. his hair has little gold tips like in his demon form. And some of his body hair, like on the back of his hands, arms, and his legs, look like little white feathers. He’s fit like a runner and has very vague abs, like, you wouldn’t process they were there unless he pointed them out. I like to imagine him with a few piercings as well(body piercings not face piercings iykyk;3). His clothes are relatively the same in my brain but he doesnt have feathers in his boots(just keep the feathers as a keychain babe we all know you have a bird thing going on it’s ok). He’s the fourth tallest in the house.

Levi

Levi has as round face in my mind, along with blue freckles that appear like blue scales and visible gills on his neck. His ears are long and thin and constantly drooped(cause bbg is always pathetic no matter what and that’s why I love him💕) His hands and feet have webbing. since he is canonically tall(compared to mammon at least) I like to imagine him being the second tallest and because he is decently tall his body fat does even out, though he has a gut and multiple parts of his body is a lot squishier. I can imagine his clothes give him the appearance of being thinner, but obviously he’s not. And i imagine his clothes to be pretty much the same, maybe looking a little more like he just rolled out of bed though if that makes sense. And like I said he’s the second tallest in the HOL, but sometimes it’s hard to tell cause he slouches.(I can imagine one day he’s getting scolded by Lucifer and he’s told to sit up straight, and after he does so it baffles Lucifer a bit that he has look up at him)

Satan

First things first he does NOT have that jacket, immediately he looks a lot better with only that sweater and his regular pants. Though I can imagine his clothing looking a lot darker, black pants, darker shirt underneath his sweater. His face is pretty similar to Lucifer’s, though his nose is a little smaller and his ears are a little shorter. He’s fit, mostly because I’m sure he burns calories out of pure spite/j. But in all seriousness I feel like he would be a little scrawny from not eating a whole lot by mistake, probably because he was sucked into a book, so he doesn’t mean to forget to grab a snack here and there, he’s just to much of a nerd </3. He’s relatively tall, and him and mammon are the same height.

Asmo

Skin so smooth it would make a modeling agency weep. I like to imagine any makeup he wears is a lot more obvious? Like, you can actually tell he’s wearing makeup, and it’s always flawless, the type of flawless were you can’t help but wonder if he gets up at 4 am to do his makeup. And I could totally see him either using those eyelash oil things to make his lashes grow longer as a part of his 3457 step skincare routine. And I imagine his ears are more elegantly elf like. His hair is still that very soft pink in my mind but the tips fade into a slightly brighter pink, and is also longer. I will never imagine him in his Og outfit because his human realm outfit just fits him so so SO much better both personality wise and just fashion wise period. He definitely works out but just enough to stay healthy and to not develop any muscles. I imagine he is also the same height as mammon, but maybe shorter by half an inch? I also like to imagine he flip flops from looking super fem to being more in between.

Beel

First things first he has a rounder face, period. I also like to imagine him with freckles and his hair is a little scruffier and longer. Not to long but touching his shoulders. He also has shorter chunkier ears that droop downwards. He is the tallest in the household no doubt about it, being taller than Levi by nearly a foot. I imagine his clothes as relatively the same, the fluff on his coat just doesn’t look as matted(I can’t be the only one who thinks that it looks like it needs to be brushed😭). As for his body, he has a gut. And just overall is so much more hunky. I can imagine his body is constantly changing from being more fit to being chunkier, so he has a good handful of stretch marks from his body constantly changing. I like to imagine that demons can burn fat a lot easier than humans, so he finds little to no issue with working away some of the fat that accumulates. But overall he’s mostly rocking a gut and strong arms. Also he’s not as pale in my mind, like he definitely has some melanin.

Belphie

Belphie also has a rounder face, with cow print looking freckles. His ears are droopy like beels and has the same cow print freckles. His hair is longer and he is in a constant state of bedhead. I also don’t think he’s SUPER scrawny, his stomach is pudgy and you can kind of see his ribs. I can also imagine the tips of his fingers have a black gradient and his nails are long and pointy like talons, I like to imagine that it takes some effort to be in their neutral forms, so he doesn’t care a whole lot to fully commit to it. First things first with his clothes: mf does NOT have those pants, nor those knee high laced brown boots. In my head he probably has a pair of sweatpants that have a star pattern, along with some slippers(maybe little cow head slippers cause that’s adorable in my head, and even though I don’t like him a whole lot he still deserves SOME bbg vibes </3). The rest of his clothes are fine to me I guess. But overall he does not care about his looks whatsoever and is always ready for his next nap.

[luvnami]

not a glory hole! - chapter 14

an | the more i write this, the less romantic i feel like im writing them to be... which isn't bad! per se... / mlist cw | ageless/mdni (18+)

“i need your help.”

you look up from your phone, bemused when ushijima pushes the curtain aside and appears in your living room. you briefly wonder when hiroko-san is coming back from her vacation. there’s a small part of you that doesn’t want the hole in the wall to be repaired, but you ignore the thought and push yourself up and off your sofa. 

“my help? what’s wrong?” you take a good look at ushijima’s face. “oh.”

an angry pimple swells on the tip of his nose. it’s extraordinarily large and begging for you to pop it. 

“it hurts,” ushijima says, deadpan. “tendou says i should put a pimple patch on it. do you have some i could borrow?”

“i do, but…” 

as it turns out, your normal stash of transparent pimple patches were used up by a recent breakout. all you have left are star-shaped patches, more for aesthetic purposes than anything else. ushijima stares blankly at them. 

“do i just put one on my pimple?” he turns the packaging over and glances at the ingredients.

“yeah. you should change it in the morning, if you need another one.” you nod in affirmation. “that’s a huge pimple, though. how did you get it?”

that’s how you find out that ushijima’s skincare routine consists of face wash that isn’t suited for his skin type, and moisturiser that clogs his pores. 

“wakatoshi-kun! that’s… that’s terrible!” 

you might as well have watched him murder someone. ushijima shifts his weight from one foot to another sheepishly. anyone else would have assumed that he was being scolded by his mother for not finishing his homework. 

“i’ll bring you to buy some products next time. seriously! i can’t believe this…” you huff and shake your head.

ushijima heads back to his apartment, guilty as charged.

the next morning, kageyama drops his water bottle when the wing spiker shows up to training with a star on his nose. 

“hey, rudolph!”  romero laughs.

“doesn’t rudolph have a red nose?” hirugami picks up kageyama’s water bottle and hands it back to him. “shoko was talking about those pimple patches recently. they’re popular online.”

ushijima nods. kageyama stares. hoshiumi stares off into blank space, wondering why he had to join a team full of airheads. 

“i borrowed some from my neighbour. i have a pimple on my nose.”

romero laughs again. “a pimple! jeez, ushijima-san. are you going through puberty again?”

ushijima frowns. he hopes he isn’t, but it would be nice to grow taller still…

[mellowwillowy]

“𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫, 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐥?”

𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐲.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰: You were never well-fared of things related to acting, let alone theatrics although the same couldn't be said about your housewarden, a man of fair beauty who obsessed over your existence as though you were the divined beauty that he has always sought to be. Soon, he will let everyone acknowledge you the moment you step onto the theatre stage. You, as his snow white who he shall now curse to death for as an eternalized beauty.

CW: Reader wore a gown (Snow White, duh), death, and Improvised Snow White's tale.

Yes, the fairest one of all, the man worthy of everyone's awe and adoration, Vil Schoenheit. The man who bathed you in his endless love despite the harsh way he presented himself to you.

✼ It truly is no surprise that, as an actor, he ought to ensure that his beauty is free from anything that will tarnish it. So you bet all the skincare routines he has will be forced upon you as well. Not only that, he has to ensure both his and your hair are always in peak condition, silky smooth and untangled.

✼ From the way he combs through your hair, he relishes in the same scent you both shared from the same ridiculously expensive shampoo and conditioner to the liquid soap that was sucked into your skin pore, ensuring it remained pristinely clean and free from any blemishes.

✼ Not only that, but your attire will also be tailored to fit you, no suit nor dress would be too tight or loose as it would wrap your body beautifully. The laced corset that you should wear would never be too tight or too loose and the color of the outfits would be hand-picked by the man himself as he chose the shade that would compliment your skin tone well.

✼ His hand will always be on your back should he see you stand or sit in such unsightly posture. Straighten it up for him immediately unless you want to hear him lecture you about how one should carry oneself again~

✼ Should you ever have trouble sleeping, he will gladly accompany you as he sits next to your bed, his manicured hand holding yours while he serenades an old lullaby you are familiar with. What you don't know is that he does not leave immediately the moment you fall asleep, no no, he takes his sweet time relishing himself in your beauty... wait, is that a very teenie tiny blemish on your skin? How could he fail to notice that? He has to fix this ASAP!

✼ Hm? You found his shoes beautiful? Would you like to try it on? Oh no... it's too scary to be this tall! 13cm is a bit too much for you to take! No wonder he looks so poised and elegant... the secret lies in these babies!

"You don't seriously think these shoes contribute 90% to my beauty right?" Vil frowned as he watched your face contorted from awe to pale white the moment he voiced your thoughts. "Surely you know this better than anyone, even if you wear these shoes, it won't do much but show everyone just how much of a clown you are should you walk with a slouched back!"

✼ What? Sweets? Snacks? No no no, you've had your fair share of it already. You ought to cut all those unhealthy stuff and maintain a perfect diet for your sake (and his). Do you dislike it? What a shame, you still have to eat it nonetheless.

Another thing he likes to do about this is to use your dislikes as a form of punishment which you call “starved to death”. Your plate will be filled with all sorts of inedible foods for your mouth. Nonetheless, an apple will always be tolerable.

✼ He will be your dance coach, he will be your singing coach, he will be your lecturer for the classes you fail to grasp. He will be the person who you rely on in everything, he wishes to be acknowledged by you deep down in his heart after all.

✼ He will be the dorm leader you look up to and to be the person you look for should you ever be troubled by anything. Pesky students, who won’t stop bothering you? He knows his way to silence them with his sharp razored words that make them rethink their whole life.

✼ Remember, Vil is a man of fame and so you should watch how you act around him unless you want nasty rumors to circulate around you. He will sometimes post a subtle relationship type of post with you (your identity hidden as a secret lest his fans come at you like rabid mutts)

"So... I'm going to take the role of the princess? Didn't you give that role to Epel previously?"

The blonde man scoffed at your statement, "He was a suitable candidate, posing a breathtakingly feminine beauty that could even fool the Great Sevens, even so, he was never the embodiment of what I'd call to be 'feminine'"

The said subject mumbled under his breath, "You talk as though the other one is feminine enough for this role, I could barely feel any of the maiden-like aura from them."

Vil shot him a questioning look, his eyebrow raised, and challenged the other to talk again.

“Don’t you want to be the princess instead, Vil? Playing the role of a heroine would be a pleasant change for you no?” You offered thoughtfully. Surely he fits this role more than you could ever, heck, you are a bit hesitant in accepting this idea.

"I am perfectly pleased with my role as the Evil Queen, no need to fret over me."

The week went on with dread, you were never familiar with the acting world, let alone acting properly! But Vil was very adamant about you having to partake in this show, 'It shall be your first debut on the theatre stage' he quoted despite you only seeing this as a school event.

Days passed and you dreaded the idea of going to the rehearsal spot again upon finishing class. Even your fellow pretty friend couldn't stop bitching about how he hated the idea of being forced to take the role of one of the seven dwarves!

"Oh, believe me, you are doing way better than I do! Even Vil praises you for being able to pinpoint all the script's lines perfectly!" You raised your eyebrows at his statement, "All I did was serenade along, you should do that too y'know? Theatre is the place where you are supposed to sing out the heart of the character."

The two of you stopped walking as he tilted his head, questioning, "Like an opera?"

"No, that's a whole different level. I didn't mean to sing it out literally, I meant to... how do I word it..."

-

And so here you two were, standing in front of your housewarden as you waited for his response to Epel's question. He took his time, contemplating how to word it out as well.

"A long time ago, I had a Master who told me that the reason why we serenade on stage was because we had to express how the character felt thoroughly..." (AN: Master here stands for Mentor.)

"Uhm yeah, we knew that but is that all?"

"... Well, I mean yes, it's not like we are performing an opera... but... argh! Even I didn't get it okay? Now, off you two go! I want everyone to not make a single mistake! Tomorrow is our big day!" He blurted out as he shooed the two of you away.

Like the noisy ducklings you two were, you grumbled as though you were quaking like Donald Duck.

"Kinda weird seeing you dressed in a gown though, perhaps you should have just asked them to tailor you a suit because god does it blind me when you are dressed like a maiden."

At his statement, you rolled your eyes. You were glad enough that this all-boys school tolerated the eye-opening of a beauty standard.

"Even so, I'm surprised Senior didn't want to take the role of the charming prince." "Why so?" "Uh, I mean, he gets to kiss you and stuff! Maybe even take after the real version of the story and..."

At that, you immediately pinched his lip shut and walked toward your supposed practice spot. Tomorrow is D-day and you can't help but feel giddy at the idea of being able to act on the same stage with everyone despite not being familiar with the world of acting.

Everything went on smoothly as expected. No one screwed up. It's all perfect yet the Evil Queen couldn't rest easy, Vil couldn't rest easy. With how long and heavy the gown is, the tiara that decorated his beautiful updo and kept hair, he strode onto the stage and spoke toward the mirror.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?"

And the mirror should reply, “Thou, O Queen, art the fairest in the land,” or so she expected.

“Snow White, O Queen, is the fairest of them all.”

As though the Evil Queen was struck by lightning, he balled his trembling fist while contemplating whether he should break this mirror right on.

He has always lived in the shadow of those prominent figures, an actor who was praised for his fair beauty and kindness and his Master who was praised for their exceptional beauty and talent in the world of theatre.

He could understand how she felt, and so he serenaded, expressing how she felt so well that he knew, he had long embodied the wicked heart of the Evil Queen. Envy painted his tinted eyes as the scene changed into you and the seven dwarves, living oh so merrily after the huntsman was enraptured by your beauty and tricked her into eating a boar's lungs and liver.

A laced corset that Vil had always ensured to hug your figure in a way that didn't suffocate you, turned into a deadly weapon in the hand of the Evil Queen.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?"

And the mirror should reply, “Thou, O Queen, art the fairest in the land,” or so she expected.

“Snow White, O Queen, is the fairest of them all.”

Then, the lovely moment in which Vil would always comb your hair and untangle any tangled hair, turned into an attempt of murder with the comb stuck on your tangled hair.

And the Evil Queen would pose the same question again.

“Snow White, O Queen, is the fairest of them all.”

It's ironic, really. No matter how hard he worked for everything, he knew he could never surpass these two prominent figures. And desperate was him.

You hated it whenever he 'starved you to death', as the only edible thing you could eat was the red apple. You hated it because it was unfulfilling and not because he had poisoned it with the potion he handcrafted. In the hand of the Evil Queen, it turned into a deadly weapon.

And the Evil Queen would pose the same question again.

“Thou, O Queen, art the fairest in the land.”

The world's most beautiful phenomenal actor, the fairest one of all, you, his subject of awe and love, the Master of the Theater, or so people refer to you.

"Schoenheit, what did I tell you about encapturing the audience's heart with your voice and not just flatly reenacting the script?"

The boy looked as though he was about to cry but he knew well that emotion was never even once written in the script. As much as he respected you, he was still a boy of heart who was ready to have his heart shattered.

"I need to speak as though I am serenading, Master. That way, the audience could understand the turmoil of my heart." "Correct, now, reenact it again. Unless I have acknowledged you, you are to be forbidden from telling people that I am your master. O how shameful it would be for me to be acknowledged by a speck of dust!"

The boy took mental note of how easy it was for you to speak in such a serenading tune and tried to continue where you left off,

"This one dared not to humiliate his Master with his incompetence! This one would rather have his lip sewn tightly to ease his Master that no such deranged words would slip out!"

You raised an eyebrow at his reply, patting his blonde hair, "There, it's not even that hard. Come now, let's get back to line 324."

The practice went on as the boy tried his best to amaze his mentor who was guiding him like a lion to its cub. He would strive to be better with each day as he pictured his gleaming future in which he would acknowledged by the public for how exceptionally talented he was as an actor. And amidst that, he would proudly let the world know that you were the one who had assisted him to reach the summit of his fame.

"That is all, the rehearsal is dismissed," You clapped your hands, signaling to the other, "You are free to go, Schoenheit. Remember, our rehearsal tomorrow, at 2 PM sharp. Am I to be understood?" "Understood, Master!"

Vil did not have to be reminded when he should come back as he had memorized everything by heart! Only 4 days left before his first debut on the theatre stage, yes, his first debut in which people would see him not from the screen of television but thoroughly directly as he was shone by the stage light.

The role he was fit to be was one he wished for, the role of a princess. Nonetheless, he wished that his Master could have taken this role for themself as he had long used to the villainous role he was forced to take. But who was he to complain anymore when his mentor praised him for how befitting he was as a heroine?

The days went on with a strict lecture, no sugar would ever coat your guidance for him and he was not upset about it at all. Instead, he thanked you for being blunt about everything. But one thing for sure was that no other mentor was allowed to be as strict as you to him, or else he would never pay heed to their words at all.

"Tomorrow is your big day, a shame you couldn't hand me an invitation." You chuckled as you helped him walk down the stage's stairs, your gloved hand cold compared to the boy's warm hand.

"But Master will be there behind and on the stage to watch me right?" "Of course, I have waited for your debut for as long as I can remember. This would be the last masterpiece to ever be carved in the history of this very theater and me after all."

Something didn't sit right, your gloved hand that was leading him down felt as though you were dragging him away from something, away from the stage.

"Uhm... will I be as good as you have praised me tomorrow? What if I... fail..." "Nonsense. That would never happen, not in my wake."

Your voice was stern and quick enough to silence him yet your hand was still holding his gently.

Snow white was silent, dead silent. She was sleeping oh so peacefully after she took a bite of the apple. The dwarves were mourning, placing her resting figure inside the glass coffin for nature to bask in her beauty, for the birds to sing songs, for the deers to sleep right next to it, and for the charmed prince to kiss her awake.

Naturally, the Snow White woke up, and the happily ever after ending was supposed to show up after it reached the climax, the Evil Queen had been punished. But not in his wake.

An improvisation?

"You! I will never rest easy for as long as you exist. Even if these legs failed to stride for a dance, even if this face failed to uphold the immense beauty, even if this body rots beneath the soil that was trampled by pebble-like mortals, I will never, ever, acknowledge you, to be the fairest of them all!"

Instead of watching the Evil Queen dance in tears and horror, the Evil Queen strode toward you, Vil strode toward you with his hand bent forward toward you. The heels that clack in beat with the music played on stage, the furrowed eyebrows, and the glint of despair in his eyes spoke everything.

Was he speaking to you?

"For you, will never be the fairest one of all unless you are dead!"

An improvisation.

It was a prop knife but it did well in splattering red paint that replicated blood. The knife was plunged right into where your heart would be, the apple to your soul. The actors were clearly taken aback by this, their genuine reactions perfected this whole scene.

And you who were never familiar with the acting world, were quick enough to improvise this.

"Alas, you and I are now walking hand in hand toward the underworld O' you Wicked Queen, should your words remain true, I shall still be the fairest one of all even in our death!"

Tears flowed out of Vil's eyes, this is not what she wanted, this is what I wanted.

The audiences were whispering amongst themselves in disbelief, the faes that were watching this were even taken aback by the show. Contrary to the dull fairy tale they had heard, this had taken a sharp turn into something more... beautiful?

Pettiness would be what Vil was trying to embody. Envy had long tinted his sight and what more could damage him? Should he live in the shadows of these two figures forever? Should he live in your shadow forever?

He'd rather die with your dead shadow, together, hand in hand as the pair of the fairest one of all, marching toward the underworld.

"Alas, that would be a better outcome than having to live in the shadow of a naive girl like you." His hands held your face gently before forcing you into a waltz of death.

The boy was horrified but the princess was not. The Evil Queen was dancing in pain and horror. He knew. He knew how there were nails in the shoes you were wearing.

"You! I will never rest easy for as long as you exist. Even if these legs failed to stride for a dance, even if this face failed to uphold the immense beauty, even if this body rots beneath the soil that was trampled by pebble-like mortals, I will never, ever, acknowledge you, to be the fairest of them all!"

Blood dripped out of your torn lip as you twirled beautifully, the black gown complimented the Evil Queen's beauty really well. He wanted to scream and call off the whole show, but the boy dared not to make such a hasty decision.

This is his first debut and your last show, how could he possibly gather himself to do that? This is your last masterpiece and should he ever do something that would destroy your final piece, he'd rather sew his lip tight with the corset lace.

Everyone on the stage dared not to say anything, either out of obliviousness or fear of the Master of the Theatre's wrath. The director could only frown as she directed the other crews.

"You shall be the fairest one of all in life but never in death!"

With that, you spread both your arms upward and fell limp onto the ground. Even until the end, the Evil Queen remained wicked and petty, her eyes tinted in Envy.

The audience clapped their hands out of awe and whistles could be heard as they threw roses toward the stage. But you never woke up.

Roses that were supposed to flatter you turned into a burial rose.

The director instructed the curtain to be lowered down, skipping through the casts thanking the audience. It raised questions but one of them voiced any discontent as they were pleased that yet another beautiful piece had been carried.

"The Master's death should not be leaked until at least one week has passed, this was their last wish. For the crowd to converse about this before they realized their effort in presenting this tale." She said as she felt the veins on your wrists and neck.

The boy was scared that he would be scolded by you if he did this but he was way more scared about the idea of you dying so he laid his ear on top of your chest.

... no heartbeat was heard.

True to your words, this truly was your last masterpiece. "This would be the last masterpiece to ever be carved in the history of this very theater and me after all."

The public was horrified by this news and split into two parties. Party that did not accept your way of dancing with nailed shoes and a party that respected your effort and courageous display, embodying the pain that was felt by the Evil Queen and facing death head-on as you delivered your final masterpiece.

And among the party was Vil Schoenheit, drowned in awe and adoration. He finally understood why you were referred to as Master of the Theatre. He finally understood why you chose to serenade. As you deliver your last lines, he remembered it.

Just like the siren you were, you enraptured everyone with your voice. It took people time to finally realize that despite the pain you were feeling, you still managed to deliver the lines without any trouble.

"I need to speak as though I am serenading, Master. That way, the audience could understand the turmoil of my heart."

Yet why could no one hear a sliver of your turmoil? All they could hear was the disdaining Evil Queen's curses and the proud Master of the Theatre, the you who were proud in yourself.

Vil was proud of himself for delivering such a spectacular piece. To direct all the casts with this sudden improvisation in order to perfect this piece, he did something that he could pride himself on.

And that was to bow down toward the audience, hand in hand with you as roses were thrown onto the stage. It truly was a shame he couldn't bow down on his first debut.

The shock of all the casts was not something he could polish in such a short time, and the you who were pushed to perfect this whole improvisation was not something he could polish in any time. It almost felt as though he was seeing his Master again. (Again, Master here stands for Mentor if you forgot)

"Why did you do that?" You pulled him backstage, your warm hand holding his gloved hand down from the stairs. You were dragging him away from the stage.

"... Because this is your first debut."

At that quote you rolled your eyes, "Take off your shoes, now."

Ah, so you really had keen eyes. Vil had always been a man who took great care of any details finely. But surely a wound on his soles wouldn't be a trouble for as long as he is not modeling something that shows his soles.

This disciple takes his Master's teachings to heart after all.