#this is one of my favorite expressions he makes

[kateschi]

a language only you speak

synopsis: wife privileges with bakugou katsuki are very much real.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the agency is bustling with its usual chaos—sidekicks rushing from desk to desk, phones ringing nonstop, and the occasional explosion from the training hall shaking the walls.

in the center of it all, katsuki katsuki sits at his desk, arms crossed, scowling at the stack of paperwork he’s been putting off all morning.

his brows twitch in irritation, but before he can push the papers off his desk and call it quits, the door swings open with a force that makes a few nearby interns jump.

“katsuki!”

your voice slices through the noise, effortlessly commanding attention.

sidekicks freeze mid-step. pro heroes pause in their conversations. even kirishima, who’s used to your entrances by now, watches with barely contained amusement.

the only person who doesn’t seem at all surprised is katsuki himself.

he exhales through his nose, tipping his chair back just enough to get a good look at you as you stomp toward his desk. his scowl softens—just a little.

“the hell are you doing here?”

“you forgot your lunch,” you say, placing a neatly packed bento box in front of him with a pointed glare. “again.”

there’s a beat of silence.

katsuki clicks his tongue, eyes flicking from you to the box. his fingers tap against the desk like he’s debating whether to take it, but the hesitation is brief.

with a grumble, he snatches it up, pulling it toward him like it’s a classified mission briefing.

you cross your arms and watch him open it, waiting for his reaction. it’s all his favorites—seasoned rice, grilled fish, a few side dishes you made just the way he likes.

he doesn’t say thank you, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his eyes linger on the food, the almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

he’s pleased.

you reach over, brushing your fingers against his collar, smoothing out the slightly rumpled fabric.

the agency watches in stunned silence, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but it never comes. katsuki lets you fuss over him without so much as a grunt of complaint.

that’s when kirishima, ever the instigator, speaks up.

“hey, dynamight,” he calls from across the room, arms crossed with a grin. “how come you let her do that, but if I even breathe near you, you tell me to ‘fuck off’?”

kaminari jumps in immediately, pointing an accusatory finger. “yeah! I tried to fix your mask that one time, and you nearly murdered me.”

katsuki pauses mid-bite, eyes flicking up. the office is dead silent, waiting for his response. his expression is unreadable for a moment before he speaks, voice low and deliberate.

“is your name y/n?”

kirishima and kaminari exchange glances. “uh…no?” kirishima ventures.

“are you my wife?”

kaminari snorts. “pretty sure we’d know if we were.”

“then shut the fuck up.”

the office settles into a stunned silence after katsuki’s blunt response, eyes darting between him and you like they’re watching a rare phenomenon unfold.

kirishima leans back slightly, arms crossed, brows raised in something close to admiration. “huh.”

kaminari tilts his head. “so that’s just...how it is?”

katsuki doesn’t answer immediately.

he focuses on his food, chewing deliberately, as if debating whether this conversation is even worth his time. you know he hears them, though.

you can always tell when he’s listening, no matter how much he pretends not to.

kirishima rubs his chin thoughtfully. “that’s so manly, bakubro.”

katsuki scoffs, finally looking up, crimson eyes sharp.

kirishima waves him off, unfazed.

“nah, I mean it. I always thought you just had rules about personal space, but it’s not that. it’s just—you let her do whatever because she’s her.”

a pause.

katsuki clicks his tongue, shoving another bite of rice into his mouth, but his silence says more than words ever could.

you smile, resting a hand on his forearm. “he’s a little soft, but only for me.”

he glares at you. “I’ll kill you.”

“you won’t.”

his jaw ticks. you’ve won this argument before it even begins.

kaminari shakes his head like he’s watching something unfathomable. “man…you’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t ‘got’ anything,” katsuki grumbles, shoving his chopsticks into the rice with unnecessary force. “i just don’t see why you extras are actin’ so damn surprised.”

“you literally detest people touching you,” sero points out.

“yeah, people,” katsuki snaps. “she’s not ‘people.’ she’s my wife.”

and that’s the thing.

to them, it’s unusual. to them, it’s something to gawk at, something to be shocked by. but to katsuki, it’s just natural. it’s not about ‘privileges’ or exceptions—it’s just the way things are.

he’s never even thought to explain it, because there’s nothing to explain.

he doesn’t let anyone mess with his uniform, but you can straighten his collar.

he doesn’t let anyone borrow his things, but you can use his shampoo.

he doesn’t let anyone get too close, but you can curl up beside him and steal his warmth like you belong there.

because you do.

katsuki quirks an eyebrow, setting his chopsticks down. “you done interrogating me now?”

the others exchange glances, like they’re debating whether they’ve gotten enough material to fuel their endless teasing for the next month.

kirishima seems to understand there’s a line he shouldn’t cross—not because katsuki would explode (though, let’s be real, that’s still a possibility), but because this is something real.

kaminari, on the other hand, is kaminari.

“so, like…” he leans on the nearest desk, a slow grin spreading across his face. “if y/n asked you to wear, I dunno, a stupid matching sweater or something, you’d do it?”

katsuki barely spares him a glance. “no.”

kaminari looks at you. “he’s lying, right?”

you tilt your head, pretending to think. “hmm. well, he did wear that ridiculous apron I bought him last week.”

the entire office perks up.

katsuki’s expression darkens. “you said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone why you wore it.”

and the office rises in roars.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[yoyomomiko]

Hiiii, I love your writing sm! <33

Could you write monster trio hcs with an s/o who is completely oblivious to their flirting?

Obvs u don't have to write this if u don't wanna! :]

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: luffy doesn't really flirt (I don't know how luffy would be flirting I'm sorry), not proofread , probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): okay so like... I kind of got carried away and didn't really stay with the request and I just realized it now that i'm done writing :(( it just doesn't feel right, I mean, they're not really flirting... it's more like, indirect flirting, you know?? i'm veryyy sorry!!! :(( -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy doesn't even understand the concept of flirting, he simply doesn't know how to flirt. He just does things that feel right, like holding your hand all the time or hugging you randomly.

He CONSTANTLY invades your personal space, leaning in way too close when he talks, but you just assume he's always like that (which, in a way, is true).

Luffy will offer you food, which is a huge deal, but you just think he's being generous and thank him without reading into it.

He calls you "his favourite person" or "his girl", but you just assume it's meant to be platonically.

He'll grab your hand and swing it while walking, and when you ask why he simply shrugs. "Dunno, feels right!"

If another guy talks to you, Luffy pouts and clings to you, but you just think he's being his usual affectionate self.

If you ever find yourself in danger, Luffy's protective instincts go overdrive. However, he doesn't exactly know how to express it in a way that makes sense.

He gives you his hat when it's sunny, grinning at you joyfully, like it's a big deal. And then you're just like "Aw, thanks!" And you don't understand why he looks so disappointed (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Luffy likes sitting next to you during meals, pressing his leg against yours. But you just pull away since you think he just needs more room.

He LITERALLY tells you "I like you a lot!" And you're just like "I like you too!" And ruffle his hair.

He tells you that he'll protect you forever, with the most serious expression ever, and you'll just assume he's being a good captain.

Whenever you hug him, he picks you up and spins you around, grinning like an idiot.

He trusts you with his hat. Like, he trusts you. He lets you wear it all the time, because he knows you'll take care of it. Heck, he's the one placing it on your head! You don't really think much of it, though.

Eventually, Luffy gets frustrated and just blurts out "I wanna be your boyfriend!" And waits for you to finally get it.

———☆

Luffy had been looking for you all morning, walking around the ship, asking everyone where you were. When he finally spotted you on the deck, sitting with Usopp, he rushed over excitedly. He felt his chest tighten whenever he saw you talking with anybody else, but he always brushed it off.

"[Y/N]! I need you!" Luffy grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Usopp's conversation.

"What's wrong?" You asked, chuckling a bit at his sudden enthusiasm.

"I just wanted to talk to you! You always hang out with everyone else, but you never hang out with me!" Luffy pouted, pulling you along toward the bow of the ship. He threw himself down on the ground dramatically, patting the spot next to him. "Come, sit with me!"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit amused as you leaned over him. "Are you really this clingy all the time?" You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Yeah!" Luffy exclaimed with a wide grin, nudging you to sit next to him. As soon as you sat down, he immediately leaned against you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I just like being close to you. You're my favorite person!"

You smiled and ruffled his hair, thinking he was being his usual goofy self. "You're my favourite person too." You replied, smile widening a bit. "You're a great captain."

He grinned, but then he got serious, standing up straight, staring at you. "No, no, I mean... I like you! I really like you!" He repeated, a little louder this time, a faint pink decorating his cheeks.

You blinked at him, not quite processing it. "Aw, that's sweet! I really like you too."

Luffy just whined, burying his face in his hands as he quietly mumbled something under his breath. You just laughed, patting him on the back as he continued whining. "I think you need a nap, Luffy!"

— ZORO

Zoro isn't the best with words, so his flirting is more about physical gestures, like carrying your things and such.

He always makes sure to sit next to you, no matter where you are, but you just assume it's a coincidence.

He trains shirtless around you more than necessary, subtly flexing, but you never seem to notice.

Speaking of training, he helps you train, standing behind you to correct your form, giving you advice.

I already said he's not the best with words, but he has a tendency to compliment you, although not directly. He might praise your abilities in a fight. You don't really think twice about it, but to Zoro, it's his own form of adoration for you.

He always glares at Sanji when he's flirting with you, but you just think they're bickering as usual.

If another man shows interest in you, Zoro's natural reaction is to stare them down with a glare. You'll never notice his intense gaze, because you think that he's just annoyed by something unrelated.

If you ask for help reaching something, he doesn't just simply hand it to you. He lifts you up effortlessly, just as an excuse to feel you in his arms.

If you're tired, he'll literally carry you to the girl's room. You just think he's being a good friend, as if he does it for everyone else (he doesn't).

He loves it when you nap near him during his training, he just likes your presence. You always think it's just because he's comfortable around you.

If you get hurt, he's the first to scold you. "Be more careful." He's the one patching you up, not letting Chopper get near you (unless it's a serious injury).

Zoro's way of showing affection is through silent protection. You'll never notice that he's doing it for you specifically, and he won't say anything to make it obvious.

He also kind of teases you playfully, as a form of affection. He'll make fun of you when you do something silly, but he's never too mean about it.

He gets SUPER protective in battle, always watching your back. He can't bring himself to look at you badly wounded.

Literally EVERYONE notices how protective he is of you, but somehow you never do. Even strangers think so.

Like I've said before, he finds excuses to touch you. For example, gently guiding you through crowds by the small of your back.

He also somehow always catches you when you trip. Right before you hit the ground, he's there, arms wrapped around you and helping you stand back on your feet.

Eventually, he just grabs your face one day and says something like "Damn it, I like you. Get it now?"

———☆

You were standing near the railing, gazing out at the ocean, watching the sunset, completely lost in your thoughts. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps approaching behind you.

"You've been standing there forever. You lost or something?" Zoro's voice came from beside you, his usual gruff voice a little softer.

You glanced at him as a smile tugged at your lips. "Nah, just thinking. The ocean looks really pretty right now."

Zoro leaned against the railing next to you, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't exactly great at this whole flirting thing, but if Sanji could do it, how hard could it be? He decided to go for something subtle. Something cool.

"Yeah, well..." He muttered, his gaze lingering on you a second too long. "It's not the only thing that looks pretty around here."

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. "Oh yeah! The ship looks great in this lighting too." You smiled as you took a look around, completely missing the way Zoro's expression dropped.

He sighed, shaking his head slightly before he tried again. "That's... Not what I meant."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Oh, you meant the sunset, huh? Yeah. It's really nice."

Zoro stared at you for a long moment, his lips parting slightly, trying to process how this was going so terribly wrong. He tried again, this time leaning just a little closer, lowering his voice. "I was talking about you, idiot."

You blinked at him, slightly tilting your head to the side. "Me?"

Zoro nodded, waiting, praying for the realization to hit you already.

"Ohhh." You finally broke the silence, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat.

"That's really sweet, Zoro! You think I look nice too?" You chuckled, as if he had just complimented your outfit instead of attempting to flirt with you.

Zoro groaned, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, sure, that's what I meant..." He mumbled, admitting defeat.

You gave him a friendly pat on the back. "You're getting a lot nicer, you know that? I think hanging around me is softening you up."

He let out a quiet scoff, turning his gaze back to the sea. "Or maybe I'm just like that with you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

— SANJI

Sanji is the king of exaggerated compliments. Every time he looks at you, it's as if he's seeing the most beautiful person in the world. "My darling, the moon is jealous of your beauty tonight." is a pretty common line from him, but you just think it's his usual behavior.

He constantly tries to impress you with his cooking. He'll make your favourite dish and serve it with grace, and when you compliment the food, he blushes as if you're complimenting him. You thank him every time, but in your mind, it's just good manners.

He will find any excuse to help you with something, even if it's small, like picking up something you dropped. And the moment you thank him for it he's like "Anything for you my lovely lady!" You just smile and move on because he does that with pretty much every woman.

Sanji's always the first one to offer you his jacket when it gets cold. Sometimes, when he gets brave, he wraps it around your shoulders and makes sure to linger closer to you for just a little longer.

He has a soft spot for you when you're sad, and he'll stop whatever he's doing to comfort you. He'll hold your hand, stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings. You just assume it's because he's a gentleman, not because he's crushing on you hard.

Sanji can be pretty possessive, especially when another guy is even slightly flirting with you. You'll catch him glaring, and if anyone so much as dares to brush against your arm, he'll throw a fit. That person might get a foot to the face, but who knows!!

Whenever you compliment his cooking or his fighting skills, he gets way more flustered than with anyone else. His eyes will turn into hearts, and he'll literally swoon.

Sanji often stares at you with wide starry eyes but when you catch him, he'll just say something like "Oh, nothing! Just admiring my beautiful angel." You think he's being his usual self or just lost in thought.

He makes a huge deal out of holding the door for you, pulling your chair at dinner and guiding you with his arm. But you think it's just because he's being polite. He tries to take your hand as he walks you around, but you just think he's offering help, never suspecting that he's being a little more than just polite.

After all his dramatic declarations of love, he finally cracks. One evening, while you're standing by the railing, he walks up to you and throws himself down at your feet. "I cannot live without you! You're my everything, and I need you to understand that!"

———☆

Sanji had been watching you all day. When you first arrived and joined the crew, he had already been swooning, but now, after spending this much time with you, he was completely smitten. He had made your favourite dessert just for you, and now he was patiently waiting for you to notice.

You peacefully sat on the deck, reading a book, when Sanji rushed over, holding a plate of freshly made pastries. "Ah, my darling! I've made these just for you!" He smiled, leaning down with a hand on his chest in a dramatic bow. "Only the finest for my beautiful lady."

You looked up from your book, a little surprised. "Oh, Sanji! Thank you so much! You really didn't have to, but I appreciate it!"

Sanji's heart skipped a bit as you reached for one of the pastries, giving him a sweet smile. "Anything for you, my love." He muttered, but his voice came out softer, almost like a whisper. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world. He pressed a hand to his heart, praying you couldn't hear how loud it was beating.

You giggled, thinking nothing of it as you took a bite from the pastry. "This is so good! I don't think I've said this enough, but you're really talented."

He blinked, and his face turned pink, clearly flustered by the compliment. "I only make the best for you, [Y/N]." He replied, his voice shaking just slightly. He leaned in a little closer, almost as if hoping you'd get the hint. "You deserve nothing less."

You looked up, gazing at him, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Sanji. I appreciate it..."

He sighed dramatically and placed a hand to his forehead. "Oh, my sweet [Y/N], how I adore you..." His voice trailed off as he stared into the distance.

"You okay?" You tilted your head, genuinely concerned. But once again, completely oblivious to how he was really feeling.

He slumped forward onto the table, groaning in agony. "I don't think I can take it anymore..." He mumbled under his breath, barely audible. "Why can't you see how I feel?!"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

A Game Night to Remember

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Reader


Warnings: Fluff, playful banter, minor cursing, competitive chaos, mild suggestiveness, Ghost casually flexing his strength, Price being a dad-gamer
Author's Note: Game night with the 141 is a battlefield, and nobody is safe. Enjoy this silly thing, it’s by far my favorite story so far-
Masterlist
MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It started as a simple game night—a friendly competition to unwind after a long week. You had spent the whole day setting up in your living room, arranging snacks, picking out a selection of games, and mentally preparing yourself for the absolute chaos that would inevitably follow.

Price, ever the responsible leader, had suggested a low-stakes game like Uno or Monopoly. Ghost immediately vetoed Monopoly, stating it "ruins friendships and leads to violence." Soap, on the other hand, was all for it, declaring that he could "absolutely crush anyone at the game." Gaz sided with Ghost, purely because he knew Soap was a sore winner.

So, you settled on Uno.

Tonight was no different than the usual game night—except you were currently curled up in Soap’s lap, enjoying the way his arms wrapped securely around your waist as he half-focused on the Uno cards in his hands and half-focused on teasing Ghost.

“Ghost, mate,” Soap smirked, shifting slightly beneath you as he played a Wild +4 on the masked man. His fingers traced idle patterns on your thigh, absentmindedly affectionate, as he prepared for the inevitable fallout. “Hope ye don’t take this personally.”

Ghost’s stare was nothing short of deadly. You could feel the tension radiating off of him as he slowly, methodically, picked up four cards. His fingers flexed against his own hand of cards, and you swore you saw his knuckles go white.

“You sure you wanna do that, Johnny?”

Soap just grinned, his chin resting against your shoulder. “Aye, I’m sure.”

You let out a soft laugh, reaching up to brush your fingers along Soap’s jawline in silent amusement. Meanwhile, Gaz, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you, caught your eye and gave you a look that screamed, Soap is a dead man. You reached out and ruffled his short curls, a gesture that had him rolling his eyes but leaning into your touch anyway.

Ghost didn’t retaliate immediately. No, he played the long game. Price, sitting to your left with one arm draped lazily along the couch, was watching everything unfold with the kind of tired amusement only a man with too much patience could have. He reached over, fingers brushing against your knee as he gave you a knowing glance.

“You might wanna switch laps soon, love. Soap’s about to be in trouble.”

You snickered. “I think I’m safe. Ghost wouldn’t dare get me caught in the crossfire.”

At that, Ghost’s head turned toward you, and even though his expression was unreadable behind the mask, you could feel his amusement.

“Wouldn’t I?”

And then he played a card.

A +4.

Directly on Soap.

Soap immediately sat up straighter, arms tightening around your waist as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Ye bloody bastard—”

“Just playin’ the game,” Ghost cut in smoothly, leaning back against the couch. You could tell from the way his fingers tapped against his knee that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Gaz burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. “Oh, this is so much better than the mission briefings.”

You giggled, shifting slightly in Soap’s lap, only for Price to tug you gently toward him. “Alright, c’mere, sweetheart. You might as well sit somewhere safer before Johnny flips the whole damn table.”

You hummed, making a big show of considering it before dramatically sliding into Price’s lap instead. His arms came around you immediately, warm and steady, pulling you comfortably against his chest. He pressed a light kiss to your temple before murmuring, “Smart choice.”

Soap shot you a betrayed look. “Traitor.”

You shrugged playfully. “Self-preservation, Johnny.”

Before Soap could argue, Gaz suddenly slapped down his own +4 card—right on Ghost.

The room froze.

Soap inhaled sharply. Ghost turned slowly toward Gaz. Price let out a quiet chuckle against your ear, his grip on you tightening slightly as if preparing for the inevitable chaos.

Gaz, to his credit, only grinned. “Just playin’ the game, mate.”

And then? All hell broke loose.

Ghost didn’t react immediately—no, he sat there for a moment, completely still, fingers tapping against his thigh. Then, slowly, he reached forward and placed down a Reverse card.

Directly back to Gaz.

Gaz’s smirk faltered. “Wait—”

Ghost dropped another +4 after playing a skip on Soap.

Soap howled with laughter, practically bouncing in his seat while ignoring the fact he was skipped. “OH, THAT’S BRUTAL!”

Gaz groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face as he picked up his cards. “Okay. Fine. I deserved that.”

Ghost didn’t respond—he just sat back, crossed his arms, and let the mask hide whatever smug satisfaction he was surely feeling.

Still grinning, you turned slightly in Price’s lap, shifting to face Soap. His expression was still alight with amusement, but there was a touch of something else when his blue eyes met yours—something soft.

“Ye abandoned me for this?” He gestured to Price, feigning heartbreak.

Price chuckled, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to the side of your neck before murmuring, “C’mon, Johnny. You really think I’d let them sit anywhere but here?”

Soap huffed, but his lips twitched. “Aye, fair.”

Feeling a little playful, you reached for Soap’s hand across the table, your fingers tracing over the scars on his knuckles before giving him a light squeeze. “I’ll make it up to you later,” you promised, voice warm.

Soap exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a smile before flipping your hand over to kiss your wrist. “Better.”

Gaz, meanwhile, was glaring at his new stack of cards. “Alright, alright. Just wait until I get my revenge—”

Before he could finish, you gently reached out and brushed your fingers through his short curls, the way you knew he liked. His irritation melted almost immediately, his eyes flickering toward you as his expression softened.

“You’re too cute when you’re mad,” you teased.

Gaz rolled his eyes but let his head tilt slightly into your touch. “Flattery won’t save you from the next round, love.”

You giggled, only to gasp when Ghost suddenly gripped the back of the couch and—with almost no effort at all—pulled the entire thing closer.

For a moment, you just blinked at him. The casual show of strength had you momentarily stunned, especially when his large, gloved hand came to rest lightly on your knee, thumb tracing slow, idle circles through the fabric of your sweatpants.

Price didn’t even react—he just let out a huff of amusement against your temple, like this was completely normal behavior. Gaz gave Ghost a flat look, something between really? and of course you did.

Soap muttered under his breath, “Jesus Christ, big man.”

And Ghost? He acted like nothing had happened at all.

“You enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” His voice was low, gravelly, laced with that rare touch of fondness he reserved just for you.

You felt your cheeks warm. “Mhm. I like seeing you guys all riled up.”

Soap grinned. “Oh, love, ye haven’t seen riled up yet.”

Gaz leaned forward, eyes playful. “One more round?”

Price exhaled through his nose, a half-sigh, half-chuckle. “You lot are gonna be the death of me.”

You turned in his lap, cupping his face gently between your hands. His beard tickled your palms as you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you love us,” you reminded him, all honeyed words and knowing smiles.

Price’s lips quirked. “Yeah, yeah.” He kissed you slow, deliberate, savoring the taste of your affection before pulling away just enough to murmur, “Let’s get this over with.”

And so, the next round began.

And this time? Mario Kart was next.

——

Mario Kart Snippet- Down the Rainbow Road

Mario Kart with Task Force 141 was a whole different battlefield.

The second the game started, Soap immediately went for chaos, spamming bananas and green shells without a second thought. Gaz played it smart, drifting around every turn with near-perfect precision, aiming for first place with ruthless determination. Ghost? Oh, he was the silent menace—the kind of player who saved his red shells for the worst possible moment, right before the finish line just to watch you suffer.

And Price? He played like a dad who had no idea what he was doing but was somehow still winning.

You were in third place, completely focused, when a red shell suddenly appeared on-screen.

“NO—”

Your desperate protest was drowned out by Soap’s evil cackle. “GOODBYE, DARLIN’!”

The shell exploded against you, sending your kart spinning out of control just as Gaz zipped past, shouting, “Thanks for taking that hit for me, love!”

“You traitor!” you gasped, watching your ranking drop.

Across the couch, Ghost sat perfectly still, the only sign of his amusement being the slow, smug shift of his mask as he tilted his head. His kart cruised past you effortlessly.

You turned to him, eyes narrowing.

“You did that on purpose.”

He hummed, neither confirming nor denying, but the way his gloved fingers tapped idly against his controller said everything.

Price, meanwhile, was squinting at the screen. “What button do I press to—”

And somehow, he still finished in first place.

The room erupted in protest.

Soap groaned. “Yer lyin’!”

Gaz threw his controller down. “He doesn’t even know what he’s doing!”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I feel betrayed.”

Ghost just sat back, voice amused. “We’re playin’ another round.”

And so, game night continued—because nobody was walking away until justice was served.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 4)

The final two weeks before Agatha moves to Albany

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of sex, fluff

The following Sunday, Agatha drives you to Albany so you can look at apartments with her. She found three online that she really likes and is hoping that she can sign a lease today. 

Since her new job starts next week. 

You’ve never exactly known what she does for a living — you never really cared to ask when she was married to your dad and once you got together, she just kind of assumed that you already knew — so you have to ask about three times for what this new position entails so you can try to work it out. 

So far you’ve gotten that she advises the company on how to raise capital, financial modeling, legal and compliance issues, and general advice. She did try to explain what she does when you found her looking over a contract one night, but it went so far over your head you didn’t realize she had stopped talking until she kissed you to bring you back to earth. Agatha did say investment banker once, but even with all the job descriptions, you’re still not sure you actually understand. 

“All right, here’s the first one,” she says, squeezing your hand that’s interlocked with hers over the center console, and parallel parking on the street in front of a high-rise building with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. You peer into the lobby to take in the crystal chandelier, dark floors, and mahogany wood panels on the wall by the elevator. “See, it’s not that bad of a drive. As long as you leave pretty early Saturday morning, you should be able to get here in under two hours.” 

You look at her and shoot her a smile. Agatha’s been overly nice to you the past week, telling you how pretty you are and how lucky she is and buying you flowers and cooking you all your favorite foods, so you’re trying to just sit back and appreciate it. 

She took the job. You told her it was okay. All that’s left to do is accept it. 

“It’s really nice,” you tell her, turning back to the building. “It’s in a good area, too.”

Agatha turns the car off and unbuckles her seatbelt. “Only about ten minutes from the office, so even better. And it’s not too far from the interstate for traveling to and from here.”

Another thing she’s been doing is talking about how much you’ll be able to come visit and vice versa. It should be reassuring, but it just feels like she’s overcompensating slightly to make the move sound better than it is. 

It’s not fair to still be upset because Agatha is trying. And you are feeling good about this, you feel secure that what you two have is real and strong, and you’re going to start working on your application to the University at Albany this week. If you get in, you’ll start in January, which really only means four months of long distance, and you know you’ll both make an effort to see each other on the weekends and during breaks. 

When you put it like that, the pit in your stomach lessens. Your tendency to overthink and blow up problems in your head is definitely something you need to work on. 

The moment you step out of the car, the first thing you notice is the smell, almost like rotting plants and sewage. You wrinkle your nose and Agatha walks around to you, the same expression on her face. 

“Think you’ll ever get used to that?” you joke and she solemnly shakes her head. 

“Guess I’ll just need to bury my nose into something else until I forget it,” she says with a wink and you laugh before following her up to the glass door of the apartment complex. 

There’s a man sitting at a desk, maybe about ten years older than you and wearing a flannel shirt, typing something at his computer, and he doesn’t look up at you until Agatha clears her throat and taps her fingers on the counter. 

He raises a bushy eyebrow, unimpressed and annoyed that someone dared interrupt him. “Can I help you?” 

Agatha tosses her hair back over her shoulder and straightens up. “My name is Agatha Harkness and I made an appointment to see a two-bedroom.” 

The man sighs and taps his mouse. “Yo, Dottie,” he calls, swiveling in his chair to face an open door to the right of him, “I’ve got a ‘Harkness’ here to see the two.” Whoever Dottie is, you hope she’s friendlier than this man. Even his mustache seems to be frowning at you. 

A tall, blonde woman steps out of the room, beaming brightly at you two, wearing a brightly colored floral dress. She walks around the desk, shakes both your hands, and introduces herself. 

“Wonderful, wonderful,” she claps her hands together and you wince at the loud sound in the otherwise-silent lobby, “let me get the keys and then I’ll show you and your daughter the model apartment on the seventh floor and then the one that’s open, which could be yours! We also have some specials on leases if you sign one within twenty-four hours of your tour, which I’ll go over after this.” 

Dottie waves you along and you catch Agatha’s eye behind her back, mouthing your daughter? at her with an amused smirk. Agatha playfully rolls her eyes and swats your arm. 

You still remember the first time she took you out in the spring, when the waitress had assumed you were a couple. You had choked and almost died from coughing so hard, flabbergasted at the thought that anyone would look at you two and see anything other than a mother and her daughter, even if she was your step-mom. 

But now, it kind of bugs you that someone does see you that way. You’re almost tempted to see what Dottie would say if you kissed Agatha or if Agatha squeezed your ass. 

Dottie’s rambling about the safety features of the elevator as she presses the button and you stare at the reflection of yourselves in the bronze doors, blurring the sound of her voice out. You watch Agatha nodding attentively and you probably should be paying attention, but you just can’t. 

Something about looking for apartments with Agatha seems so surreal. You had helped her pick out the one in Westview and it felt like you were picking out a place for the two of you, even knowing you were going to live at the dorms. 

But now, you’re picking it out for her and she’s breaking her lease on the apartment you shared. 

It’ll be back to being both of yours in January, you remind yourself. 

The elevator doors slide open and the three of you step into it, the tile a fancy black marble with gold cracks and the walls a dark wood with the top half covered in mirrors. Dottie touches the fob to a pad and then presses the button for seven. 

“It only lets you get to the floor that you live on, and the roof for the pool and the game room. We take our security very seriously,” she explains and Agatha hums before looking at you for your approval and you nod like you’ve been paying attention this whole time. 

She takes you down the hall and pauses in front of a door, fumbling with the key ring and then finally inserting one into the lock. She pushes it open and lets you and Agatha step in first. 

The floor is a cool gray color, all white walls except for the blue accent in the living room, and it’s pretty spacious. The kitchen has an island with quartz countertops that match the other counters against the wall, all stainless steel appliances, a double oven, and a hood over the stove. The backsplash is green and blue and gray tiles. There’s a deep sink and three pendant lights over the island.  You have to admit it looks really good.

“Wow,” Agatha says, tracing her fingers over the countertop and crossing the threshold into the living room, where the floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city of Albany. It’s the model, so there’s comfortable-looking couches around a coffee table and a rug, facing a television on an entertainment center. Even with all the furniture, it’s easy to imagine exactly where Agatha’s stuff would go. 

You follow her into the first bedroom, the bigger one. It has the same windows as the living room and your only thought is that Agatha will certainly need to invest in some curtains if she picks this place. It’s a huge room; Dottie tells you that the bed in there is king-sized and there is still plenty of space for the nightstands and lamps and dressers. The walk-in closet is probably half the size of your dorm room right now, and there’s a standalone shower next to a tub across from the double vanity in the bathroom. 

“This is nice,” Agatha whistles and you nod your head in agreement. 

“Let me show you the other bedroom,” Dottie says and leads you to the other half of the apartment. “This door closes off the hallway to the second bed and bath, so plenty of privacy. Will your daughter be living with you?” 

It’s hard not to laugh when you and Agatha glance at each other out of the corner of your eyes. “Um, no, I go to college in New Jersey. But I’ll be visiting a lot,” you answer, and then, just for the fun of it, add: “How thick are the walls, though? Like, apartment to apartment.” 

Agatha stifles a laugh that turns into a cough and Dottie looks back over her shoulder. “We don’t get a lot of noise complaints. If you’re worried about the TV being too loud, it shouldn’t be a problem because the living room is in the middle of the two bedrooms. But if you’re watching something in either bedroom, there’s a chance a neighbor might be able to hear a bit of it.” 

“That’s exactly what I was worried about,” you mumble and Agatha nudges you, even though she’s smirking too. 

The second bedroom is a bit smaller than the other, but still a good size. This one has a window-sill and only one long window and the closet is only about half as big. The bathroom has an alcove tub and matching countertops to the other bathroom and a lot of cabinet space. 

Dottie also shows you the three extra closets for extra storage and then takes you to the empty apartment on the ninth floor. 

Agatha walks around, gesturing wildly with her hands and pointing out where things could go, while you trail after her like a lost puppy, occasionally adding a yeah and I like that and I think that’ll look really good. 

Seeing her plan the space feels like a hammer in your gut going it’s happening it’s happening it’s happening over and over again until it almost overwhelms you, but Agatha is so engaged in it that she doesn’t even notice. You’re being completely irrational. Everything is fine.

“So, what do you guys think?” Dottie asks when Agatha finally stops and comes to stand next to you as you’re leaning on the island and picking at your fingernails. She puts a hand on your lower back and you stiffen, eyes darting up to look at Agatha, who’s looking back at you inquisitively. 

“Could you give us a second, Dottie?” It’s clear from Agatha’s tone that it’s not a question and Dottie gives you both a tight smile before leaving the apartment. 

You rub your forehead, trying to stave off a headache you can feel slowly budding, and walk over to the windows. Her footsteps are soft and then she’s wrapping an arm around you to pull you into her and kiss your head. 

“You know what I’m thinking about?” she asks and you hum inquisitively. “Fucking you against these windows so anyone down below could look up and see how well you take me. See how good of a girl you are for me.” 

A burst of heat flashes through you but you smirk, not being able to pass up the opportunity to make a joke. “That’s quite an inappropriate thing to say to your daughter.” 

Agatha snorts. “Good thing Dottie isn’t here.” And then she softens against you. “Do you like this place?” 

You shrug. “It’s pretty nice. Aren’t we going to go look at the other places though?” It’s a stupid thing, but you feel like it’s not real until she signs a lease. And maybe you just want to keep it not real for a little bit longer. 

She makes an equivocal sound. “This one did look the nicest online. And honestly, I really like it. I can definitely see myself living here. I can see us living here.” 

“Okay,” you say softly, melting on the inside. As long as she’s picturing you here with her, you’d be good with anywhere. “I think this is the place, then. Let’s go tell Dottie, mommy.” You go to move but instead, she turns you by the shoulders and grabs your cheeks, pulling you in for a long kiss and then gives you another one for good measure. 

“You are so perfect,” she says against your lips. “I l—” 

The door opens and you jump back from Agatha and whirl to find Dottie standing there. Your cheeks heat up, but she doesn't look scandalized so you’re guessing she didn’t see anything. “How’s it going in here, ladies?” 

Agatha gives you one last look-over, giving you all the time in the world to object, but you just swallow hard and nod. “Dottie, we’ll take it,” she says and you plaster a smile onto your face when Dottie gasps and exclaims excitedly. 

She ushers you back to the lobby and leaves you sitting at a desk while she runs off to go print out papers. You’re tapping your foot impatiently when your phone buzzes. 

Thinking it’s just one of your parents — you didn’t actually tell either of them that you were going to New York — you pull it out of your pocket. 

Hey, it’s Carol. Want to get dinner tonight? You vaguely remember giving her your number the night of the party last week. You’ve only seen her once or twice since then and the first time, she asked how you were feeling, and the second time, she shot a finger gun at you. 

“Who’s Carol?” Agatha murmurs, having leaned over your shoulder. You fight the instinct to turn your screen and type back, Sorry, out of town tonight. Rain check? before slipping it back into your pocket. 

“Just this girl that lives in the dorms. She was the one who drove me to your place when I was hammered last Sunday.” 

“Ah.” She’s opening her mouth to say something else when Dottie comes back over and plops down a thick packet and starts rattling off the rules of the complex, the extra fees, and where to sign. Dottie says because you’re not living here full-time, you don’t have to fill anything out and you inwardly sigh in relief. 

Agatha barely looks at the papers before signing her name in big cursive letters and you can’t help but long for that kind of financial security and stability, where you don’t even have to worry about the cost of rent. When you do transfer and if you do end up living with her at any point, you know she won’t let you pay for anything, but you make a mental note to start looking at jobs, maybe even just part-time, so you can buy her things with your own money. 

“Perfect, let me just run a quick background check on you, make sure your credit is good, and then I’ll get back with you. And you want to move in…?” 

“Next Saturday would be great,” Agatha says and your foot starts bouncing even more erratically. Dottie leaves to go back into the office and Agatha’s head drops back to look up at the ceiling. “That means I need to set up electricity, water, internet, I need to schedule movers, I need to talk to my complex.” She groans and sits back normally, rubbing her face with her hands. 

You’ve done the whole moving thing a few times and it absolutely sucks so you reach over to pat her leg. It’s the first time you’ve seen her even the slightest bit overwhelmed with all this and it’s honestly refreshing. “I’m here. Anything you need, I want to help.” 

She gratefully smiles and leans across her chair to give you a kiss on the head. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“Um, you married my dad.” Agatha wrinkles her nose but laughs anyway, resting a hand on top of yours that’s still on her thigh. It’s an anchor for both of you and neither of you move until Dottie comes back about five minutes later. 

“All right, you guys are all good! We will see you next week. Any more questions?” 

Agatha stands up and shakes Dottie’s hand. “I think we’re okay. Thank you so much for all your help.” 

The drive back to Westview is filled with mindless chatter and no mention of the move. You make plans for the week — you’ll stay with Agatha every night, she’ll cook dinner, movie night on Tuesday, picnic in the park on Thursday. She knows that school is starting to pick up for you, so it goes unspoken that you’ll be doing homework with her. 

“And of course, plenty of sex,” you add when she asks you if there’s anything else to plan for. 

“Oh, sorry, was that not implied?” Agatha simpers and her hand sneaks its way into your lap, dipping under the seat belt to play with the elastic of your leggings. 

You let her slide inside and let out a small moan when she brushes a finger against your clit through your underwear. “Better keep your eyes on the road, mommy,” you say tightly.

“I can multitask.” 

She rubs your clit and you shift in your seat to give her easier access to you. It’s an odd angle — her wrist is bent in a way that is surely uncomfortable — but Agatha is determined to make it work. She teases you slowly and before long, you can feel how wet you’ve become. Your breathing has deepened, cheeks hot, and you start to roll your hips to get more stimulation. 

“Mommy, please,” you beg, and she looks over at you to say something when the car in front of her stops suddenly. Your stomach lurches. “Watch out!” 

Agatha slams on the brakes, sending you both flying forward, the seat belt putting an immense amount of pressure on you, and she yanks her hand out of your pants to put her arm in front of you. 

The car screeches to a halt about two feet from the one in front of you. You’re both panting and Agatha tosses her hair back before assessing you. 

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly. You nod, still gripped by a cold sweat. She takes a deep breath and puts both hands on the steering wheel when the cars begin to move again. “I think we’ll save car sex for another time.”

You huff out a laugh in agreement. “It went pretty well that one time. But we were in a parking lot on the way to get pizza in rural New Jersey, not on an interstate in New York.” 

“Who would’ve thought there’s a big difference,” Agatha quips and the tension from almost getting into a wreck lifts the more she drives. You’re back to giggling and talking in no time, although you both keep your hands to yourself. 

The rest of the day passes quickly, with Agatha busy setting up everything she needs for her new apartment while you finish up some homework for the upcoming week. 

On Tuesday, you’re leaving your dorm after your third class of the day to go to Agatha’s for the night when you run into Carol. She brightens when you see her and you give her a quick smile, determined to keep moving. 

“Hey, where are you off to? You still owe me that dinner,” she says, catching you by the arm. 

“Yeah, sorry, this week is going to be a little tough,” you tell her apologetically. “My…girlfriend is moving on Saturday so I'm just trying to spend as much time with her as I can.” You’ve never really had to define your relationship with Agatha, but it seems natural to call her that. 

A stormy look flits across her face before she’s back to normal. “The same girlfriend who broke up with you?” 

You hadn’t exactly found the time to fill her in on the whole story. “Turns out she wasn’t cheating, it was me jumping to conclusions. She had a job interview in Albany and she got it! So she starts next Monday.” 

“Be careful with long distance,” Carol warns, instead of being happy for you like you thought she would be. You raise an eyebrow. “It always starts out so nice and happy and everything is okay…but then the distance sets in. Texting and calling aren’t the same as just being able to see them and talk to them in person. Traveling becomes exhausting. The traffic makes you mad and then you’re in a bad mood and you can only think about the drive back and—”

“Stop,” you snap, stepping away from her. This is possibly the worst thing you could hear right now and you can’t take it any longer. “That’s not how this is going to go, okay? Agatha and I are different. We’re solid. And besides, it’s probably only going to be like this for a few months. She trusts me and I trust her. We’re going to be fine.” 

Carol scoffs, a cold look in her eyes. “You trust her? Is that why you were so quick to believe she was cheating on you?” 

The blow knocks the wind out of you and you just stare at her blankly. Who the fuck does she think she is? 

She softens, realizing that she cut deeper than she intended to. “Shit, I’m sorry. This is your relationship and I should’ve stayed out of it — I’m sure you’re right, okay? You guys will be fine.” 

But you don’t want to hear anymore from her, so you turn on your heel and walk to your car. The rest of the night, you’re a bit out of it and you can’t stop cursing Carol for putting those thoughts in your head. 

The next few days fly by in a blur with classes and homework and avoiding Carol around campus, but your evenings are absolutely perfect with Agatha.

She keeps the light low in the kitchen while she cooks for you each night while you sit at the table and ramble on about whatever you’re learning. She hums at all the right times, but when you take a break to look up at her, she’s staring at you with a fondness in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

Each time it happens, you think it must be what love looks like. 

Growing up with parents that should’ve been divorced, you never had a good model for what love was. You used to think that everyone’s parents were like yours — cold, didn’t actually like each other, and just stayed together for their children. You thought that love meant complacency, or even that maybe there was no such thing as it. 

You weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to fall in love and be loved back. But with Agatha, there’s an intimacy your parents never had. You didn’t know what that was like until her. 

And you know that you love her more than anything in the entire world, and when she gives you that look, you think she might feel the same. 

The three words are constantly on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you just can’t say them again. You don’t even say it when she makes you cum, which is a lot of times over the week. 

She bends you over the countertop and fingers you. She shoves you against the wall after you get back from your picnic on Thursday, gets on her knees, and eats you out. She makes you sit on her strap while you finish your essay and then pushes you onto all-fours and pounds into your pussy until you’re crying. She fucks you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, in the hallway, in the living room — even in her car and your car. Both while you’re safely parked in an abandoned lot, of course. 

It’s like she’s determined to give you as many orgasms as she can before she moves, and she’s doing an excellent job of it. 

Saturday, after everything gets moved into the new apartment and you’re finally done unpacking most of the stuff, Agatha takes you to a fancy Italian steakhouse in Albany. The atmosphere is romantic, with classical music playing softly and candles lit at every table. Agatha looks absolutely stunning in a tight black dress and curly hair, and you’re wearing your best outfit as well. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” she asks and your cheeks heat up as your head ducks down shyly. 

“Once or twice,” you answer coyly, finally meeting her gaze again. 

She holds out her hand across the table and you take it, feeling the normal electricity that her skin on yours always gives you. “We’re going to be okay, you know that, right? I know you’re more worried than you’re letting on. I know how you’re feeling — I know how easy it is to get swept away with doubts. But I really appreciate you telling me to take this job and I promise we’ll be okay. I care about you far too much to let anything happen to this.” 

You nod and squeeze her hand. “I do know. I feel the same.” 

“Oh — that reminds me. I got you something,” she says and digs around in her purse before pulling out a small black box with a red bow neatly wrapped around it and handing it to you. “You might want to open it beneath the table. Might be embarrassing if someone sees it.” 

Brows furrowing in confusion, you dip the box under the white tablecloth and undo the bow quickly before lifting off the lid. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shoot up to meet hers. 

“Agatha,” you hiss, flushing. 

Resting on stretched out cotton in the box is a small, purple vibrator, curved to be able to rest on your clit while also vibrating against your g-spot, with a gold engraving along the side that goes inside you: Mommy’s cunt. Your clit throbs.

She holds up what looks like a small key fob and presses a button and the toy starts vibrating. You drop the box into your lap while gaping at her and she smirks triumphantly. “Works from anywhere in the world,” she says casually and your stomach sears with heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” you rasp. You’re suddenly feeling very excited about this move. Something about the distance, about the anticipation and the teasing and the pining that it will bring, doesn’t seem so bad anymore. 

Suddenly, the food can’t come fast enough and then you’re both in the car, Agatha speeding while you sit on your hands so you don’t distract her, and then she throws the car into park and you both race into her apartment. 

Her mouth finds yours the moment you step through the door, pushing you against the wall as a muffled oomph slips out of you, and she sucks on your tongue and then bites your bottom lip and then kisses her way down your neck. Your brain is going foggy and your underwear is soaked and you quickly tug her into the bedroom. 

Agatha tears off her dress and then pounces on you, knocking you onto your back on the bed, hands coming up to cup your breasts and you keen. 

“God, Agatha,” you groan and she scrapes her teeth against your neck. It’s so good, but it’s also your last night before everything changes. “Wait, fuck, stop.” 

She jumps back like she’s been burned. “What — is everything okay?” 

You nod, panting, and run your hands up and down her hips. “Yeah, everything’s great. I just…can we just cuddle tonight? I just want to be close to you.” 

Agatha runs her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip, her eyes going glassy for a moment before she blinks, and she chokes out, “Of course, honey. Whatever you want.” 

Smiling gratefully, you take off your clothes and slide under the covers next to her so you can feel all of her warm skin against yours before she tucks an arm around you. You nuzzle into her body and your face twitches with restrained emotion. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you say softly and she presses a kiss to your head. “I know it’ll be okay though. I’m almost done with my application to the University at Albany.” 

She hums and kisses you again before breathing in your scent deeply like she’s making sure she doesn’t forget it. “I have no doubt you’ll get in. And then it’ll be us in our own little world.” 

“That’s right.” 

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, and eventually, Agatha’s breathing starts to even out. A quick glance up at her face confirms that she fell asleep. 

You know you should too, but you’re reluctant to let this moment go. Right now, it feels like you’re frozen in time, just the two of you. 

So you stay up as late as you can, just soaking in the feeling of her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg @m1vfs

[koyagifs]

𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮

pairing: mingi x reader au: idol | established relationship| genre: fluff word count: 1.3 k synopsis: yn this. yn that. my wife, yn. it’s all mingi can say since your wedding warning(s): fluff, sweet tooth rotting - literally will get cavities. suggestive content.

Mingi’s love for Yn is absolutely infectious! He wears his wedding ring like a badge of honor, never hesitating to show it off. During interviews, the second someone even vaguely mentions Yn, he lights up like the sun, his words spilling out in a stream of affectionate praise and stories.

Valentine's Day was just around the corner, and for Mingi, it wasn’t a source of stress but pure excitement. He had everything planned down to the tiniest detail, ready to make your first Valentine’s Day as husband and wife unforgettable.

Mingi’s smile widened as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his heart already melting at the sight of you. There you were, balancing a tray of food, his shirt hanging loosely off your figure, the fabric far too big but somehow looking perfect on you.

You moved with deliberate slowness, your hips swaying with each step, a playful glint in your eyes as you approached. The way you walked—like a mischievous cat, graceful yet undeniably teasing—had Mingi’s attention locked on you.

“Good morning, Mr. Song,” you purred, your tone light and flirtatious as you placed the tray down on the bedside table.

Mingi chuckled, his voice deep and warm, still laced with the remnants of sleep. “Good morning, Mrs. Song. You trying to kill me this early?”

You smirked, leaning closer until your face was just inches from his, your hair brushing against his cheek. “Just wanted to make sure you woke up properly.”

Mingi reached out, his large hands finding your waist and pulling you onto the bed in one smooth motion. You let out a surprised laugh as you landed beside him, the tray momentarily forgotten as his arms wrapped around you.

“Well, good job,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his gaze met yours. “I’m definitely awake now.”

You smiled, leaning in and placing your lips onto Mingi’s, the warmth of the kiss spreading through both of you like a soft, glowing fire. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss, savoring every second of it.

The breakfast was long forgotten as the moment grew more intense, the playful teasing from earlier replaced with a slow, burning passion. Mingi’s hands roamed over your back, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

With a soft tug, he lifted his shirt off you, letting it slip away as his eyes took in every inch of you. His gaze was filled with a mix of awe and affection, and he let out a breathy laugh. “You’re stunning, you know that?”

Your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze, but before you could respond, he pulled you back into him, his lips finding yours again, more fervent this time. His hands trailed over your skin, igniting sparks wherever they touched, and you couldn’t help but get lost in him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and full of emotion, as if those three words carried everything he couldn’t quite express.

Finally pulling yourselves away from the warmth of the bed, you headed to the shower, leaving Mingi to get dressed. He stretched lazily, still grinning to himself as the events of the morning replayed in his mind.

Once dressed, Mingi quietly made his way to the closet, where he had carefully stashed your Valentine’s Day gifts. He opened the door with a soft creak, revealing the neatly wrapped presents and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He smiled to himself, proud of the effort he’d put into making this day special.

Carrying everything to the dining room table, he arranged the gifts thoughtfully, making sure they looked just right. The bouquet took center stage, set in a vase he’d picked out especially for the occasion, while the gifts were placed around it like a little display of his love for you.

As he stepped back to admire his work, Mingi couldn’t help but imagine your reaction. Would you laugh? Cry? Either way, he hoped you’d feel just how much he adored you.

Hearing the water turn off in the bathroom, Mingi quickly made his way to the kitchen to prepare some drinks to go with breakfast. He wanted everything to be perfect when you walked in, fresh from your shower, to see the surprise he’d put together.

When you stepped into the dining room, your smile was already wide as you spotted Mingi, but it only grew when you saw the effort he had put into the display. The bouquet of your favorite flowers, the carefully wrapped gifts, and the thoughtful arrangement on the table made your heart flutter.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as you took it all in, your eyes flicking back to Mingi, who was watching you with an almost boyish grin. “Mingi,” you breathed, stepping closer, “this is beautiful.”

He shrugged casually, but the proud sparkle in his eyes gave him away. “I just wanted to make our first Valentine’s Day as husband and wife special. Do you like it?”

“Like it?” you repeated, laughing softly as you moved to hug him, still holding your gift behind your back. “I love it. You always outdo yourself, you know that?”

Mingi wrapped his arms around you, holding you close for a moment before pulling back slightly, his curiosity piqued. “What are you hiding back there?”

You smirked, taking a step back and slowly revealing the gift you had tucked behind you. “This is for you,” you said, handing him the neatly wrapped box.

Mingi’s eyes widened with surprise and excitement as he took the gift from your hands. “You didn’t have to—”

“Of course I did,” you interrupted, playfully tapping his chest. “Now, go ahead and open it!”

Mingi took the bag with trembling hands, settling into a chair at the table as he carefully removed the tissue paper. His movements slowed when his fingers brushed against the soft fabric inside. Pulling it out, he revealed a tiny onesie.

His eyes immediately filled with tears, his gaze darting between the tiny outfit and you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His lips parted, but no words came out—just a sharp, shaky breath as he tried to process the moment.

"Are you serious?" Mingi asked, his voice cracking slightly, a mix of disbelief and joy flooding through him.

You nodded your head, a soft smile on your lips as you gently reached for his hand. Placing it carefully on your stomach, you watched his reaction closely, feeling your heart swell as his fingers brushed the soft fabric of your clothes, realizing the truth for himself.

Mingi froze for a moment, his hand trembling against your belly. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, as if searching for confirmation. “You’re really…?”

Without warning, Mingi scooped you up in his arms, his face lighting up with joy as he spun you around the room, laughing in disbelief. Your laughter echoed through the room, a mixture of pure joy and excitement, as he twirled you effortlessly, his happiness radiating with every movement.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed between laughs, holding you tight. “This is happening! We’re going to be parents!”

You clung to him, still laughing, feeling your heart swell as his joy became infectious. “We’re going to be a family, Mingi,” you said, breathless from the spin.

He set you down gently, his hands still resting on your waist as he gazed down at you with a look of pure adoration. His voice was thick with emotion, barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe we’re going to have a little one. I’m going to be a dad. You’re going to be the mom of our baby. I’m… so happy.”

You smiled, your eyes misting over as you cupped his face. “And we’ll be amazing parents together. I know it.”

Mingi’s smile softened, his eyes tender as he kissed your forehead. “I promise you, we will be. I’ll give everything to make sure they know how loved they are… just like you are.”

And in that moment, as you both stood there in each other's arms, enjoying each others presences.

[deadinthefanfics]

Housewardens x a reader who has selective mutism (platonic)

A/n: Hello this is my first time doing this I will try my best the reader is gender neutral in these headcanons ^_^

Riddle Rosehearts

☆) Riddle was honestly surprised on first meeting you. He was expecting to get someone on the immature side or likely the calm yet still manages to get themselves into chaos no matter what.

☆) When he tries to have an interaction with you seeing that you either whisper or mutter and he asks you to speak up you feel like shrinking away into a black hole. He never understood why it was so hard for you to not talk. Yeah speaking is such a simple action but he didn't know the reasoning behind you.

☆) After the overblot and realizing that it's really hard for you to talk no matter how much you try it's hard for you to do. He became more empathetic for you. But since you were out of trouble he liked you.

☆) He would likely help you when you are called on he would say the answer for you so you wouldn't have to say it.

☆) He also likes to walk and talk with you during passing periods and you get to listen along to him, even if you didn't say it in your words he could tell you didn't mind him by your facial expressions and your hand gestures. ☆) He also probably sets up your own formal language when it comes to unbirthday parties as such tapping your cup for more tea or tapping a certain part of your plate saying that you want more of a sweet.

Leona Kingscholar

☆) He honest didn't mind when you didn't speak that much. But if you are in any situation where you need help, he's here for you when you absolutely need it.

☆) He will maybe also lay on you or let you sit next to him since you are quiet and not bothering him when he sleeps.

☆) He will tease you when you are comfortable with him jabbing snarky jokes at you most common one he will use on you was "cat's got your tongue?"

☆) He will feel accomplished when you make a slight giggle or chuckle at his jokes when he makes them

☆) Will make anyone shut up if they try to bother you to speak or force you out of your comfort zone.

Azul Ashengrotto

☆) When he first met you he thought you were a spy since you stood awkwardly and it stood out from everyone else speaking so loudly. Or plotting against his schemes of forming contracts.

☆) When he found out you were nonverbal he formed more ideas for the monstro lounge since if they catered to regular people why not the quiet people? Or the introverts?

☆) Gives you a special pass so you can go into the quieter places when you needed to. While also gets advice from you on how to cater to the quieter people in which now they have to pay for the pass.

☆) Business is getting bigger since now they accommodate to the quiet side of NRC.

☆) When you do actually speak to him he feels a sense of pride that he build up a good relationship to speak.

Kalim Al-Asim

☆) When he first met you he was a bit surprised when you literally almost ran away when he spotted you. But you didn't and tried to be brave and you stayed and let him talk to you.

☆) When he found out you had trouble speaking he asks Jamil for help on how to talk to people like you.. In which now he knows how to talk to the shy people without scaring them away!

☆) Will buy your favorite things use that to your advantage since he is very nice.../j

☆) Passes you notes when he is bored and wants to have a conversation with you.

☆) He would be excited when you finally talk to him like as if a kid got the gift they wanted on their birthday and makes it KNOWN he is proud of you for finally talking.

Vil Schoenheit

☆) When at first Vil met you by just you accidentally bumping into each other and he apologizes in a bit of a mean way for bumping into you. But when he noticed that you were trying to form an apology he saw you now as "Idia Shroud 2.0"

☆) Does the same thing as Riddle asking you to speak up but to be more confident in yourself. But also does kind of understand why you were to be quiet but he doesn't really force you to do anything much.

☆) Vil will definitely provide you communication cards he custom designed at hand for you to communicate with the others.

☆) He would also likely make you his mannequin make you try on clothes for him. Since you are as silent as one so you would at least make a good acquaintance for him. ☆) When you finally talk to him he gets very proud like a father when you speak for the first time to him. Even if it were a little it still meant a lot to him.

Idia Shroud

☆) Idia would honestly not care that much he is just glad you are nice to him and you manage to surprisingly get him to open up about his interests and everything.

☆) I feel like whenever you actually talk even if its like muttering or the smallest whisper when he is like paying attention to a game he would get jumpy thinking it is someone else is in the room when its just you.

☆) Idia would allow you to borrow his tablet on rare ocassions when you do need to give out presentations or public speaking so you wouldn't feel the anxiety so much when speaking.

☆) Idia would allow you to be in his room as well and just let you watch him game and probably allow you to mess around with a few of his stuff.

☆) Idia would just allow you in his close circle in general as close as Ortho because of how awkward you are around people and seeing he is the same level as you he would be more delight talking to you.

Malleus Draconia

☆) He finds you very interesting. A child of man that has anxiety of speaking? He never seen one before let alone in person.

☆) He does like to be around you and try to ask you questions by giving you something to write on so that you can answer his questions.

☆) Would probably pat your head or rub your back when you feel anxious, or even more so hug you and would maybe never let go.

☆) Will smite down anyone who bothers you or makes you anxious. ☆) He will find it comforting since he also doesn't speak and someone of same nature could lead to good bonding.

Psst hey! My requests are open (^o^)

[be4chywritez]

loathing? | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

rec: so luke gives bfb vibes so hard for some reason please write something like best friend's brother or like enemies to lovers

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Jack’s apartment felt like a second home to you at this point. You were always here, whether Jack invited you over or you just let yourself in. It wasn’t your fault his couch was more comfortable than yours, and besides, his fridge was always stocked with your favorite snacks.

Unfortunately, Jack’s apartment came with an unwanted addition—Luke Hughes.

Luke was the embodiment of an annoying little brother, except he wasn’t your brother, which made it worse. Every time you were over, he was there, too, sulking, chirping, or generally making your life difficult.

It started with little things. He’d steal your snacks, change the channel when you were watching something, or conveniently take the last bottle of water from the fridge. Once, you caught him wearing one of your hoodies just to piss you off. The rivalry was childish, petty, and utterly exhausting.

Then came the pranks. You swapped his protein powder with flour. He replaced your chapstick with hot sauce. Jack refused to take sides, claiming you were both equally insufferable.

One afternoon, after Luke had hidden your shoes before you had to leave, you retaliated by locking him out on the balcony in the middle of winter. Jack had to let him back in after twenty minutes, and Luke had vowed revenge ever since.

And now, it had come to this.

“Move, you’re on my side of the couch.”

You looked up from your phone, arching a perfectly sculpted brow as Luke stood over you, arms crossed. His stupid, messy hair was damp from his post-practice shower, and he was still in sweatpants and a hoodie, looking as effortlessly good as ever—not that you’d ever admit it.

“Your side?” You scoffed, stretching out even further. Your legs, bare thanks to the tiny shorts you wore, draped over the cushions as you made yourself comfortable. “Last I checked, this couch belongs to Jack.”

Luke exhaled sharply, clearly already at his limit with you today. “Yeah, and Jack’s not here, which means I get priority seating.”

“That’s not how it works, Hughes.” You gave him a slow, taunting smile. “You snooze, you lose. Go sit in the chair like a good little rookie.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but instead of arguing further, he did the worst possible thing—he sat down. Right on top of you.

“Luke!” You shrieked, shoving at his solid frame, but he didn’t budge.

“You wouldn’t move, so now I’m sitting.” His smirk was infuriating.

“You’re crushing me, you absolute menace.” You wriggled under him, but it only made him press down more, laughing at your struggle.

“Not my fault you take up the whole couch.”

“Not my fault you have no concept of personal space.”

“Oh, please. You love the attention.”

That made you pause, and Luke must have noticed the slight falter in your expression because his grin widened. You shoved at his chest, hard enough that he finally moved off you, but the damage was done. You were flustered, and he knew it.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” you muttered, sitting up and crossing your arms.

“Right back at you, princess.”

The nickname, as condescending as it was, sent a jolt through you. Maybe it was the way his voice dropped slightly when he said it, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you now—like he was daring you to snap back.

And snap, you did.

One second, you were shoving at his shoulder. The next, his hands were on your waist, and your lips crashed together. It was messy, desperate, all of the pent-up frustration spilling over into something way hotter than either of you had planned. His hands gripped your hips like he’d been waiting for this, and when you bit down on his lower lip, he groaned against your mouth.

Your fingers curled in his hoodie, tugging him closer, and he gladly followed, pressing you back against the couch as his mouth moved against yours, demanding and hungry. The fire between you had finally found its outlet, and there was no stopping it now.

The air between you was thick with something unspoken when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing heavily. Luke’s forehead rested against yours for a fleeting moment before he pulled back, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” he teased, his voice lower now, rougher.

You rolled your eyes, even as your pulse hammered. “Shut up.”

He grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with a confidence that sent another shiver down your spine.

“C’mon,” he murmured, tugging you up from the couch. “Before Jack gets back.”

A thrill shot through you as you followed him down the hallway, your stomach twisting in anticipation. This was dangerous, reckless—but you weren’t stopping now.

Not when sneaking off with Luke Hughes had suddenly become the most exciting thing you’d done all night.

The near-misses started piling up after that night. A stolen kiss in the kitchen while Jack was in the other room. Luke slipping his hand under the table at dinner, brushing against your thigh as you tried to keep a straight face. One night, Jack almost walked in on you tangled up in Luke’s bed, forcing you to dive under the covers while Luke casually pretended to be scrolling on his phone.

It was thrilling. Addictive. But eventually, the excitement started to wear thin, especially for Luke.

One night, after slipping out of Jack’s apartment and into Luke’s room again, he hesitated before pulling you close. There was something different in his touch, something hesitant.

“This isn’t just—physical for you, is it?” he finally asked, voice low but vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

You blinked at him, thrown off by the sudden shift. “What?”

Luke exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just—sometimes it feels like that’s all we are. And I don’t want that.”

You studied him, heart clenching at the uncertainty in his eyes. “Luke, I wouldn’t be sneaking around for just anyone. This is more. I want more. I thought you knew that.”

His jaw tensed. “I want more too. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You reached out, threading your fingers through his. “You’re not just a hookup to me, Luke. You never were.”

His shoulders sagged in relief, and he pulled you in, pressing his forehead to yours. “Good. Because I think I’m falling for you.”

You swallowed, emotions thick in your throat. “Then fall, Hughes. I’ve already fallen.”

Jack found out in the most Jack way possible—by walking in on you and Luke curled up together on the couch.

He froze in the doorway, blinking as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are you—kidding me?”

Luke groaned, dropping his head back. “Well, that could’ve gone better.”

Jack pointed a finger between the two of you. “How long?”

You hesitated. “Uh… a while?”

Jack groaned. “You two are the worst.”

But there was no real anger in his voice—just exasperation. And when Luke laced his fingers through yours, squeezing lightly, you knew it was all worth it.

[gf2bellamy]

So I am obsessed with fics where the bau find out that early seasons!Spencer has a girlfriend so if you could please write any form of that I would literally lose my mind ♡

Maybe Morgan and Garcia (because those two are everything to me) run into Spencer and his girlfriend on a date or something??

ice cream — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: eating ice cream, reader throws away an ice cream cone bc she doesn't like it a/n: hiii thank youu for your request !! also morgan and garcia might just b the best duo ever

The ice cream shop was a cozy little place, with pastel-colored walls and a chalkboard menu filled with swirling, handwritten flavors. The air was sweet with the scent of waffle cones and sugary toppings, and the soft hum of the freezer behind the counter added to the cheerful ambiance.  

You stood in front of the glass case, your eyes scanning the colorful assortment of flavors, each one more tempting than the last. But as much as you wanted to try something new, the sheer number of options was overwhelming. 

“I don’t know what to get,” you mumbled, leaning closer to Spencer, who was standing beside you.

Spencer tilted his head, studying the menu with that thoughtful expression you loved so much. “You like chocolate, don’t you?” he asked, pointing to the rich, dark chocolate ice cream that looked as smooth as silk. 

You nodded but hesitated. “I do, but… I kind of want to try something new. What if I don’t like it, though?” You bit your lip, glancing at the line infront of you. There was only one customer ahead of you, and you knew you had to decide soon. 

Spencer’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “How about we buy three ice creams?” he suggested, his tone gentle. “One chocolate, so you have something you know you’ll like, something new for you to try, and one for me. That way, if you don’t like the new flavor, you won’t be stuck with it.” 

You blinked at him, surprised by his solution. “Three ice creams? Isn’t that a little excessive?” 

He shrugged, his smile turning playful. “It’s not every day we get ice cream. Might as well make it an adventure.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his logic, and the tension in your shoulders melted away. “Okay,” you agreed, a happy smile spreading across your face. “Let’s do it.” 

When it was your turn to order, you decided to go with the chocolate mint for your “adventure” flavor, while Spencer chose a classic vanilla. The chocolate ice cream, your reliable favorite, was the third choice.

Once you stepped outside, the warm afternoon sun greeted you, casting a golden glow over the street.

You stood in front of the store, holding your two cones—one chocolate and one chocolate mint—while Spencer happily started on his vanilla.

You took a tentative lick of the chocolate mint.

Almost immediately, your face scrunched up in disgust. “Oh god, no. What is that?” you exclaimed, the strong mint flavor overwhelming your taste buds. It was like eating toothpaste mixed with chocolate, and you quickly reached for the chocolate ice cream to wash away the taste. 

Spencer burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking as he watched you struggle. “That bad, huh?” he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“It’s awful!” you said, glaring at the cone. “I don’t know how anyone could like this. I’m throwing it away.” 

“Wait, wait,” Spencer said, still chuckling as he held out a hand to stop you. “Let me try it.” 

You hesitated but handed him the cone, watching as he took a small bite. He chewed thoughtfully, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, that’s… not great,” he admitted, handing it back to you with a grin. “But at least now you know.” 

“Yeah, now I know to never trust chocolate mint again,” you said, tossing the cone into a nearby trash can with a dramatic flourish. “Chocolate is the only flavor for me.” 

Spencer laughed again, the sound infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile despite your ice cream disaster. “Well, at least you tried,” he said, nudging your shoulder gently.

You leaned into him, savoring the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream and the even sweeter moment with him. 

The sun was warm on your skin as you and Spencer strolled down the bustling street, hand in hand. The ice cream in your free hand was slowly melting.

Spencer’s thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, a small, comforting gesture that made your heart flutter.

You pointed out different stands as you walked, smiling at the quirky items on display and debating whether you should buy a ridiculously oversized hat or a silly toy.

“Look at that!” you said, tugging on Spencer’s hand as you gestured to a stand selling handmade jewelry. “Those earrings are so pretty. Do you think they’d suit me?” 

Spencer glanced at the stand, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered your question. “I think they’d look great on you,” he said after a moment, his tone sincere. “But you’d look good in anything.” 

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Smooth, Dr. Reid. Very smooth.” 

He chuckled, his cheeks turning pink, and you were about to tease him further when a loud, familiar voice cut through the air. 

“Reid?!” 

Both of you froze, turning toward the sound. Your eyes landed on a stand a few feet away, where a blonde woman in colorful, eccentric clothing was waving enthusiastically. Next to her stood a tall, muscular man with a smirk on his face.

You recognized them immediately—Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan. 

Before you could react, Garcia was rushing toward you, her arms outstretched like she was about to tackle Spencer in a hug. Morgan followed at a more slower pace, his smirk growing wider as he approached. 

“Oh my gosh, Reid!” Garcia exclaimed, stopping just short of throwing herself at him. “What are you doing here? And who is this?” Her eyes landed on you, sparkling with curiosity.

You felt Spencer’s hand tighten around yours, and you glanced at him, confused. His mouth had fallen open slightly, and a blush was creeping up his neck, spreading to his cheeks.

“Uh, hi, Garcia. Morgan,” Spencer said, his voice slightly higher than usual. “This is, um… this is—” 

“His girlfriend,” you finished for him, offering a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you both. Spencer’s told me so much about you.” 

Garcia’s eyes widened, and she let out a delighted squeal. “His girlfriend?!” she repeated, looking between you and Spencer. “Oh my gosh, Reid, you’ve been holding out on us! How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell us?!” 

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but Morgan beat him to it. “Yeah, pretty boy,” Morgan said, crossing his arms and giving Spencer a teasing look. “Since when do you keep secrets from your team? Especially one this big.” 

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he adjusted his glasses nervously. “It’s… not a secret,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “I just… haven’t mentioned it yet.” 

“Haven’t mentioned it?” Garcia repeated, placing her hands on her hips. “Reid, this is huge! You’re dating someone! And she’s adorable!” She turned to you, her expression softening. “You are adorable, by the way. I love your outfit.” 

You laughed, feeling a little overwhelmed but charmed by Garcia’s enthusiasm. “Thank you,” you said. “I’ve heard a lot about you too. Spencer says you’re the heart of the team.” 

Garcia beamed, clearly pleased by the compliment. “Well, he’s not wrong,” she said, winking at Spencer.

“So,” she said, turning to you with a mischievous glint in her eye, “what’s it like dating our boy genius? Does he recite random facts at you all the time? Oh, does he—” 

“Garcia,” Spencer interrupted, his voice pleading. “Please don’t.” 

You laughed, enjoying the way Spencer squirmed under their teasing. “He does all of those things,” you said, grinning at him. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Garcia sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet. I think I might cry.” 

Morgan rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Alright, lovebirds,” he said, “we’ll let you get back to your date. But Reid, you’re officially on notice. No more secrets, got it?” 

“Got it,” Spencer said, though he looked like he was already regretting the promise. 

As Garcia and Morgan walked away, Garcia turned back to wave enthusiastically. “It was so nice meeting you!” she called. “We’ll have to do lunch soon!” 

You waved back, still smiling, before turning to Spencer. “Well, that was… unexpected.” 

Spencer let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry about that.” 

“They’re great,” you said, squeezing his hand. “And they clearly care about you a lot. I’m glad I finally got to meet them.” 

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening. “I’m glad too,” he said.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s nice to know your team has your back.”  you said softly.

Spencer smiled, as he tightened his hold on your hand. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.” 

[deathofacupid]

please give me some nanami fluff, im deeply wounded by his angst. ohhh preferably requited love but theyre both awkward coworkers?

a/n: yayayaya first jjk request !! i wanted to get this out yesterday when i saw it but i got distracted... multiple times... but yes yes here you go :D (angst that is being referred to)

nanami is not good at these things. which is why he's been awkwardly lingering by your desk, trying to put together an appropriate proposal for lunch.

every now and then, your eyes will flicker up from your work, and you'll give him a shy smile, one he'll awkwardly return.

"nanami," you ask, soft. "is everything alright?" there's a hidden question of 'why've you been hanging around like a freak?'.

"yes. of course. why wouldn't it be?" it's paired with a forced grin, something you can't help but wince at.

"well, it's just... y'know, you've been..." you trail off, unsurely gesturing at him.

"oh. right. i was just," a pause, "pondering."

"pondering?" you echo, tugging at the hem of your skirt.

"it's come to my attention that, uh, you have your lunch break in the next," a glance at the clock, "two minutes. as do i."

you follow his gaze to the time. "hm. yeah, i guess."

"would you like to join me? there's this wonderful bakery that i know of."

the other thing that he's not good at; small talk. which is how he's ended up sitting silently at a table with you.

he fiddles with his napkin, and you play with the your straw wrapper. finally, unable to bear the quiet, you force some words out. "this is a, uh, great smoothie, by the way. good recommendation," you say, giving him a lopsided smile.

nanami nods. that's it. so, you're tapped out. that was your conversation-starter. now, what? he nodded. nodded. no expression, aside from lips pressed together. why would he ask you out - even just as coworkers - if he only wanted to, well, not talk.

he seems to realize this, too, only a bit late. it's odd to respond now, right? after minutes have passed? is he over-thinking this?

nanami clears his throat, "yes. yes, that's one of my favorites. i also quite like the blueberry. we can try that next time."

"next time?" you ask, watching as his face flushes. woah. the nanami kento, master of the stoic... blushing?

"sorry. if you'd like."

now it's your turn to blush, "i would. like, i mean. i would like that. if you would like that."

"i would like that," he smiles.

"good. i would, too." you don't mean to have said that one sentence ten different times in ten different ways, but he makes you nervous.

"good."

"good."

five years later, married with a ring on your finger, and a baby along the way - one that both you and nanami are equally excited for - he still claims that as your first date. you argue that it doesn't count, but he says it does, because it was the first time the two of you ever went out alone... hence the term, 'going out'.

and, at the end of the day, you really couldn't care less. because, as awkward as it can be with nanami, you're with him. you're his.

[lazysoulwriter]

kindergarten queen - pedro pascal.

It was just another chaotic yet wonderful day at the kindergarten. She had spent the afternoon painting with the kids, which meant her dress was now decorated with tiny, colorful handprints, and there was definitely blue paint in her hair. To top it all off, one of her students had placed a pink princess tiara on her head, insisting that she looked "just like a real queen." Who was she to argue with that kind of logic?

By the time the final bell rang, she was exhausted but happy, making sure all the little ones were safely picked up by their parents. She barely noticed the sleek car pulling up to the curb until she heard a familiar voice call her name.

Pedro.

She turned, her heart immediately doing that ridiculous fluttering thing it always did whenever she saw him. There he was, leaning against his car, wearing that effortlessly cool look he always had—white t-shirt, silver chain, that lazy half-smile that made her knees weak. But as soon as he got a good look at her, his expression changed.

“Oh. My. God.” His mouth fell open, and for a second, she panicked, glancing down at herself. “What? Do I have something on my—oh, right. The paint.”

Pedro let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he walked toward her. “No, it’s not just the paint,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he took her in. “It’s the whole look. The tiara? The little handprints? The sheer dedication? I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were burning. “You say that like you didn’t already love me.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, placing his hands on her waist, completely ignoring the fact that he was now probably getting paint on himself too. “But this? Seeing you like this? Jesus, I don’t know if my heart can take it.”

She laughed, playfully shoving his chest. “Okay, Romeo. Let’s go before you start reciting poetry.”

Pedro dramatically clutched his chest. “You wound me.” Then, as she turned toward his car, he quickly reached up, adjusting the tiny pink tiara on her head. “No, but really. You’re actually the cutest human being on the planet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, but the way her face heated up gave her away.

As they got into the car, Pedro leaned over and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary. “For the record,” he murmured, “I’m never getting over this. Ever.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “If you mention the tiara even once after today—”

“I’m buying you a whole collection,” he interrupted, grinning as he started the car. “Different colors. Maybe one for every day of the week.”

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands as he laughed, the kind of deep, warm laugh that made her stomach flip.

Before driving off, Pedro pulled out his phone, aiming the camera at her. “Wait, wait—don’t move. I need to capture this masterpiece.”

She gasped. “Pedro, no—”

Click. Too late. He grinned, admiring the photo. “This is going to be my new favorite picture of you.”

And as they drove off, Pedro kept sneaking glances at her, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Because to him, she absolutely was.

[seokmn]

DAMN TRIP .ೃ࿔ ✈︎ *:･

pairing: junhui x fem!reader wc: 0.8k words warning: pet names, jun as girl dad (yes, its a warning for my delusional besties out there.)

“let me be over there again”

Junhui dropped his bags on the floor and wrapped his arms around your waist, tightening his grip as if he would never see you again. He let out a defeated sigh. “I can't believe I have to go… what if I tell my boss I got sick? I can tell him I have dengue fever, and he’ll let me stay at home!” You laughed at your husband's comment and shook your head while caressing his hair. “We don't live in a tropical or subtropical country, you can't have dengue fever.”

“You have no idea how good I can be at acting,” he smiled and hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I don't want to leave you and D/N by yourselves. Seven days is too much time away from you."

You placed your hands on his shoulder and pulled him away just enough to make him look at your face. You smiled in a comforting way and kissed his temple. “Junnie, we’ll be fine, and we’ll be always facetiming each other. These seven days will pass in a blink of an eye, okay?”

Junhui still looked upset, but he nodded and gave you a peck on your lips before looking in the direction of your daughter's room, “D/N? Dad is leaving soon, won't you give me a hug?”

In a matter of seconds, you saw your daughter running to him with a frown on her face, arms raised, and one of her hands holding a folded paper. “Daddy, don't go!”

Junhui picked her up and gave her a sweet kiss on her forehead. “I wish I could stay, but I have to go… It's only for seven days, though,” he tried to comfort her, but his heart was absolutely broken. Since you gave birth to your daughter, Junhui and D/N became inseparable. “And I'll facetime you every time to tell a story before you sleep. I promise you.”

He caressed her puffy cheeks as her frown was deepening. D/N used her free hand to rub her eye while giving him the folded paper that was on her other hand, Junhui smiled and looked at her with the kindest expression ever. “Is it for me? Can I open it now?” she nodded, and he shifted her in his arms so he would be able to open the folded paper with his two hands. Once he opened it, he saw a drawing of you, him, and the little girl with a bunch of hearts around the three of you. He couldn't help but tear up as he showed the drawing to you, making you a little bit emotional as well.

“Sweetie… That's so beautiful, I'll take this drawing with me all the time. Thank you for giving it to me,” he kissed her forehead once again and searched for something in his pocket. “I have something for you as well.”

Her eyes lit up in curiosity as he took out two bracelets out of his pocket and showed them to her. "I asked uncle Joshua to help me to make them for us, the pink and yellow one is yours, and the pink and blue one is mine. It has our initials, look!” The little girl grabbed the pink and yellow bracelet and took a look at it, seeing the stars and three letters, being them the initials of your names. She smiled widely, wrapped her little arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek.

“Daddy, I loved it!” Junhui chuckled and rubbed her back. “I'm glad you loved it. I hope to see you wearing it!” He turned his gaze to you. “Yours is on my side of the bed. It's pink and white, your favorite colors,” you smiled and wiped your tears away. “Gosh, you're acting like you’re leaving for a whole year,” you placed your arm around his waist, and Junhui took this opportunity to give you and your daughter a family hug.

“I love my girls so much,” he sighed before continuing. “I promise to come back quickly and bring you gifts.”

The three of you stayed like that for a while before you broke the hug. Junhui pampered his daughter with sweet kisses all over her face before putting her back on the ground, then he looked at you, gave you a sad, yet lovely smile, and pecked your lips. “I'll text you when I get to the airport, before the flight, after the flight, and when I get to the hotel,” you chuckled and nodded. “Have a safe trip, love. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he turned to your daughter and crouched down to be on her level. He booped her nose and smiled, “I love you as well, got it?”

“I love you too, daddy! Have a safe trip!”

Junhui sighed before standing up once again and grabbing his bags to leave. He looked at you and D/N and smiled before leaving the house, leaving you and your loved daughter alone for the next seven days with his heart broken in pieces, absolutely hating the thought of not having you around.

[little-jana]

"Caffeine and Affection"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2k

Warnings: excessive caffeine consumption, but otherwise pure fluff

Summary: For Valentine’s Day Spencer surprises you with a very special bouquet!

a/n: requested: yes! Thank you very much, hope you enjoy it!

The BAU ran on coffee.

At least, most of it did. Hotch practically had a coffee IV, Rossi wouldn’t touch anything under espresso-level strength, and even Spencer—who could rant about the adverse effects of caffeine for hours—drank coffee when cases ran late.

But you? You were different.

Your fuel of choice came in cans, not cups. Whether it was soda or energy drinks, you always had something sugary and carbonated in your hand. It had become part of your identity—something the team liked to tease you about but ultimately accepted.

Spencer, however, took a particular interest in your habit.

“You know,” he had told you one day, watching you crack open yet another can, “the excessive consumption of sugar and caffeine can lead to increased heart rate, insomnia, and dependency.”

You had grinned at him, unfazed. “Sounds like a problem for future me.”

He had sighed, shaking his head. “Future you is going to be very disappointed in past you.”

Despite his concerns, he never actually told you to stop. If anything, he seemed intrigued by your preferences—often asking which flavors you liked best, what brands you preferred, and even quizzing you on why you liked soda over coffee.

It was… cute.

Spencer had always been the kind of person who paid attention, but when it came to you, it felt like he noticed everything.

Which was why, on Valentine’s Day, when he approached your desk with a nervous expression and something hidden behind his back, you immediately knew he was up to something.

“Spence?” You tilted your head, setting down your can of soda. “What are you doing?”

His lips twitched in that shy, almost awkward way he did when he was nervous. “I, uh… got you something.”

Before you could respond, he revealed what he had been hiding.

It wasn’t flowers. It wasn’t chocolates.

It was a bouquet. But instead of roses or lilies, it was made entirely of your favorite sodas and energy drinks, all carefully arranged and tied together with a big, bright bow.

You blinked. Stared. Opened your mouth. Closed it.

Then, finally, you burst into laughter. “Oh my God, Spencer!”

His ears went a little pink. “I read that people appreciate personalized gifts, and I know you don’t really drink coffee, so I figured this was a more… suitable alternative.”

You reached out, taking the bouquet from him with wide eyes. It was surprisingly well put together—each can securely fastened with ribbon, the entire thing looking both ridiculous and oddly adorable.

“This is—Spencer, this is amazing.” You grinned up at him. “Did you make this yourself?”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had to look up a tutorial. It took longer than I expected.”

You could just picture him sitting at home, carefully arranging cans of soda into a bouquet, meticulously tying them together with absolute precision. The thought made your heart swell.

Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, squeezing tightly. “You’re the best.”

Spencer tensed for half a second before quickly melting into the hug, his arms wrapping around you just as firmly. “I’m glad you like it.”

You pulled back slightly, grinning. “Like it? Spencer, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me.”

His smile was small but full of warmth. “Then it was worth it.”

You looked down at your wonderful bouquet and then back at him, your heart hammering a little harder than usual.

Maybe it wasn’t just the caffeine making it race.

[concretejunglefm]

Obsession.

Have you ever craved somebody so much that you literally ache?

Summary: Ever since Noah first laid eyes on you, you’ve been the object of his desires and occupied his thoughts. However, there’s one catch—you’re Jolly’s girlfriend.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x f!reader (Jolly's girlfriend) with mentions of Jolly Karlsson.

CW: Heavy pining and slight patheticness from Noah.

AN: The timeline and progress of this little story may be skewed, and there’s definitely an unreliable narrator in the form of Noah.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

Noah can’t stop thinking about you. Since Jolly introduced you as his new girlfriend, you’ve been the only thing on his mind.

There should’ve been some guilt for this, especially when his thoughts about you turned to lust, leading him to fantasize about you and give in to his urges, where he would say your name like a prayer every time he came over his hand and stomach. Even when you were just meters away in the next room, completely unaware of his actions.

It didn’t start that way, though. Initially, everything had been innocent. You were kind, funny, and pretty in a way that made everyone joke that you were too good for Jolly. However, Noah was aware that you were too good for him.

During late summer, when the guys all decided to have a last-minute barbecue, Jolly chose that time to introduce you. 

Noah was aware that he'd been seeing someone, but he didn’t realize how serious it was until he brought you around, eager to show you off like a new trophy. Admittedly, Noah felt a twinge of envy the first time he laid eyes on you.

“And this is Noah,” Jolly breaks the ice, introducing you. Noah offers a timid wave, already feeling the nerves fluttering as he was in your presence. “He’s also my roommate, so you’ll be seeing his pretty face around quite a bit.” 

Noah’s eyes flicker to Jolly and widen with a ‘what the fuck’ type of expression, but the moment you let out a laugh, his eyes fall back onto you, completely captivated by such a beautiful sound. Now all he wants is to hear you laugh again, even if it comes at his own expense.

As the party progresses, everyone starts to mingle and unwind in the relaxed atmosphere. Meanwhile, Noah has become preoccupied with overthinking how to initiate a simple conversation with you. He is so caught up in his own thoughts that he is startled when you finally break the ice.

“That’s a cool tattoo.” 

He glances down to his thigh, where you had gestured to one of his favorite tattoo designs peeking out from beneath his shorts. “Oh, that? Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” He pulls up the end of his shorts, revealing the full Itachi design, standing up slightly as he tries to show it off to you. 

“So cool,” he hears you murmuring as you lean down to fully examine the design. Having you so close to him makes his head dizzy and his heart race.

He quickly fumbles over his words, trying tries his best to prevent himself from being overwhelmed by the thoughts that are rapidly entering his mind. “It's from my favorite anime, Naruto. Have you ever heard of it?” He barely takes a breath before pulling his short leg back down and settling into the garden chair once more. 

As he rattles off random facts and Easter eggs about the show, he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious. Even as he hears himself, he wants to stop, but your soft smile and nodding in response has him continuing. Somehow, your attentive listening makes him feel compelled to keep going, his lisp occasionally slipping through, causing him to stumble further over his words.

As he finally catches his breath, you speak, “Oh, so is that Naruto?” You point down to his thigh. 

If it weren’t you, he would likely have lectured the person asking, about the difference, but instead, he simply laughs and shakes his head. “No, that’s Itachi.”

“What can you tell me about him?” You ask.

Noah can't tell whether you’re genuinely interested in knowing more or not. However, before he can continue, Jolly intervenes, sweeping a hand across your shoulders while glancing down between you both. 

“Don’t get him started on his anime shows; he’ll never stop talking about them.” The Swede chuckles, and you join in, as does Noah in a manner which feels forced because that comment makes him feel inferior and like Jolly's mocking his interests. 

Noah knows that he’s not. Jolly never says anything with a malicious intent. Nevertheless, he can’t help but feel slighted by it, especially when Jolly invites you to come inside with him, and you bid them all a; “It was nice to meet you all.”

And it was, nice to meet you.

That was six months ago, and somehow, you’re still stuck in Noah’s system. He’s tried dating, hooking up with random girls, and even the occasional girl he knows, but nothing seems to extinguish the flame he holds for you or satisfy the gnawing need he feels for you. 

His inability to perform in those moments also brought any attempt to move on from you to an abrupt halt.

And you accompanying the band on tour only intensified Noah’s longing for you. 

Instead of being able to hide out in his room or leave the house, he was forced to spend the duration of the tour with you. If you weren’t in the sound booth, you were at the side of the stage, watching them perform. If you were staying at the hotel with them, you shared a room with Jolly, which always conveniently seemed to be next to Noah’s own. 

This proximity to you drove him crazy, and it was his reasoning for sneaking into your room one day, just to get himself off over the smell of you still lingering on your sleep shorts—the same pair that he held onto for the rest of your time on tour before they conveniently reappeared in the laundry when you returned home.

Being back has only continued to worsen the situation, especially since you’ve been staying over more frequently than ever. Although Jolly hasn’t officially declared it, you’ve essentially moved in. You spend more nights over than you don’t, and when Jolly isn’t home, you spend your free time with Noah. 

While Noah enjoys and savors these moments, it's still not enough, he still needs and craves more from you. He’s becoming desperate, seeking ways to spend time alone with you that are inconspicuous enough to capture your attention and possibly even your affection, without it becoming too evident what he’s seeking from you.

Tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades @halfalgorithmhafdeity @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero

[kaicha05]

Title:“Obviously”

Derek had faced hunters, kanimas, alpha packs, and more supernatural nightmares than he cared to count. None of it had made his palms sweat quite like this.

Sitting on the couch, rigid as a steel beam, he glanced at Stiles, who was fidgeting with his fingers, his knee bouncing at a mile a minute. They had rehearsed this conversation—twice.

“Okay,” Stiles exhaled, rubbing his hands together before clasping them tightly. “Eli, bud, we, uh—well, we wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eli, who had been sprawled on the armchair with his legs hanging over the side, lazily looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

Derek cleared his throat. Why was this so hard? He felt ridiculous. Stiles was the one who’d insisted they talk to Eli before making any legal moves, and Derek had agreed. It was the right thing to do. But it was also nerve-wracking as hell. “Well, uh,” Stiles started, then promptly turned to Derek. “You do it.”

Derek scowled but turned back to Eli. “Stiles and I have been talking about getting married.”

Eli blinked. “Okay?”

Derek hesitated. That was… underwhelming. Stiles jumped back in. “And, y’know, if we do that, we were thinking of making things official with you too.” He licked his lips, eyes darting to Derek for reassurance before continuing, “Like, legally official. Like, I could adopt you.”

Eli blinked again. Then he snorted. “Yeah, obviously.”

Stiles stared. “Wait, what?”

Eli rolled his eyes. “Dude, you practically live here already. You take me to school when Dad’s busy, you’re at every game, you nag me about my grades—”

“I do not nag,” Stiles huffed.

Eli ignored him. “You make Dad less grumpy, and you keep the house from looking like a brooding cave. And let’s be real, I already call you for advice before I call him.” Derek frowned. “You what?”

Eli shrugged. “No offense, Dad, but you kinda suck at emotional pep talks.”

Stiles grinned. “He really does.”

Derek shot him a look before turning back to Eli. “So… you’d be okay with it?”

Eli made an exaggerated expression of deep thought. “Let’s see. Do I want Stiles to be legally obligated to put up with my nonsense? Yes. Do I want the ability to guilt-trip him by calling him my official dad? Also yes. Does this change literally anything in my life? No.” Stiles huffed a laugh, shoulders finally relaxing. “Okay, wow. You really took the tension out of this moment, kid.”

“Did you want me to freak out?” Eli raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I can if it’ll make you feel better.” He gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, you’re getting married? Stiles is going to be my stepdad? This is so shocking! My world is changing forever!” Derek groaned, but Stiles cracked up. “Alright, alright, you made your point.”

Eli grinned and stretched. “Cool. Can I go now?”

Stiles feigned offense. “You don’t even want to help us pick out wedding colors?”

“Nope.”

Derek sighed, rubbing his temples, but Stiles just grinned. “Fine, fine, you’re dismissed.”

Eli hopped up, but before heading to his room, he paused. His teasing smirk softened, and he looked between them. “For real, though… I’m happy for you guys.”

Derek felt something warm settle in his chest, and he wasn’t sure if it was relief or something deeper. Stiles beamed, nodding at Eli.

“Thanks, kid.”

Eli just shrugged before disappearing down the hall.

Stiles turned to Derek, a smug grin on his face. “Told you he’d be cool with it.”

Derek huffed. “You were just as nervous as I was.”

“Shh,” Stiles said, kissing Derek’s cheek. “Let me have this.”

__________________

Authors Note:

I have never watched the Teen Wolf movie, and as of right now, I don't intend to. I do not like the fact that Derek dies or that Stiles isn't in it. Even though I know that wasn't the actors' choice and there's nothing wrong with it, I just don't feel like I could handle it, since Stiles and Derek are two of my favorite characters in the whole show.

That said, I do love what l've seen of Eli as a character online, and my shipper brain can't help but love the idea of Derek and Stiles being his parents-or just being parents in general. I mean, come on, Eli is basically the embodiment of Stiles' personality.

So, no matter what canon says, I'll always think of them as a family.

[orionhelluvaranting]

My Predictions for Helluva Boss

Alright, guys, not gonna lie... I'm tired from HB! Protagonist-centered morality, favoritism, lack of stakes, Stolass' endless woobification, etc... It has become too much for me. Thus I've gave up any hopes for the writing improvement and refused to watch the show in the long run.

But!

This won't stop me from analysing the previous episodes that I've already watched. Furthermore, I wanna make a few predictions about what's going to happen in the next two seasons (unless those will be cancelled). Perhaps I'll repeat some of the points other critics had already made. So I'm sorry in advance for this, mates.

Now careful, there's a HUGE list under the cut! 🔮

⋆˙˖⟡°˖⟡˙ {Predictions} ˙⟡˖°⟡˖˙⋆

None of the main cast is dead. The plot armor is too strong. Especially for Stolass. I mean, do you genuinely believe that Viv would kill her precious sad bean?! Bitch, please! 🤗

All/most of the antagonists are dead. The only exception I can think about is Cherubs. They're just too unthreatening to bother about. Prolly the D.H.O.R.K.S are dead but reborn in the Hell and Idk if that counts or not 💀⚰️

If the rumors about one of the Deadly Sins' upcoming death are true then it's going to be Mammon. No other options 💸 (Btw I saw a fan theory about Blitzø killing Mammon and taking his place... Well, considering how poorly Viv handles the class problem I wouldn't be surprised if that came true)

F!zzarozz!e get married (S3) 💞 - 100% probability

Stol!tzø get married (S4, finale) 💞 - 100% probability

M&M became parents. Honestly I thought they'll save it for the end but after Sinsmas... Yeah. Anyway the truth about Millie's pregnancy is revealed (nearly to the middle of S3), she gives a birth for pro-lifers' delight and takes maternity leave becoming a background character. The child prolly is a boy and gets a better development than his mother. Apparently he's named Blitzø Junior or smth like that 👨‍👩‍👧

F!zzarozz!e & Stol!tzø double date💕

Moxxie's insecurity issue is showed at least once at the season. Now he isn't sure about himself being a good father/protector/role model for his son 💪

Loona shows her human disguise at least once at the season. Doesn't really matter if there's no logical reason for that 🐺➡️👩

More sappy sad ballads performed by Stolass 🎵

I.M.P. continue murdering people and not giving a fuck about morality (Sinsmas was the only act of mercy) OR they leave the business and fully go for Stol!tz soap opera (not like they haven't done that already- but hey! there's always room for degradation, right?) 📉

Stolass succeeds at the dime novels writing 📜✍️

Carnal hyper-sensual coitus between Stolass and Blitzø appears on-screen. Correct me if I'm wrong but I remember Viv expressed her desire to animate an intimacy act, so I have zero doubts these two are involved. It can't be anyone but them 🤢

Octavia forgives Stolass the moment she finds out about Stella's abusive nature. And since Stella's confirmed as a "stupid cow" the truth's revealed in the dumbest way possible. I wouldn't be surprised if Stella spilled the beans by herself 🤦‍♀️

Blitzø boosts his connection with Stolass the moment he finds out about Stella's abusive nature. After all we've got a sex out of pity, so why wouldn't we got a love out of pity as well? 🤡

Possibly Striker/Stella had been a thing at a certain time. Why? Because ✨fanservice✨ of course! And yes, it's going to be as dull, flat and out of nowhere as Cherr!snake. Or maybe worse 🙁

Stella's backstory turns out like the "she was born evil so don't you dare to sympathise with her" full edition. There is no valid motivation, no intriguing conflicts, no nuances - none of that. There is only Stolass' woobification arc. So this backstory isn't about Stella. It's revolved mainly around Stolass, maybe around Andrealphus or Vassago at the least. Granted that Stella ever had a chance to receive a decent backstory for herself Vivienne would've thrown it away right in the next episode without mentioning it ever again 😭

Actually Mammon can't play the guitar 🎸 He's just too dumb and untalented for this (according to Vivienne). Don't expect an epic villain song from him. I'd be happy to be wrong about this one but my hopes are dead

More fatphobic jokes toward Mammon 👎

Stolass' in drag. Just no comments 💄👠

Love triangle between Stolass, Blitzø and Vassago. At one point, Stolass leaves Blitzø because he doesn't satisfy his wet dreams well enough. Vassago and Stolass have complete mutual understanding and the idyll but Stolass feels smth isn't right. Smth is missing, smth like… Meanwhile Blitzø suffers and seeks Stolass' mercy. Eventually Stolass comes back to Blitzø because 💖 ~ they belong together ~ 💖

Perhaps after the breakup between Stolass and Vassago the latter will get together with Andrealphus 💘

Millie & Moxxie or Fizz & Ozzie giving romantic advices to Blitzø / helping him improve the relationship with Stolass 💝

Barbie Wire forgives Blitzø in her next appearance and then moves away from the plot without a trace 💨

Sapphic bait 💗 Verosika/Barbie Wire? Barbie Wire/Sallie May? Sallie May/Verosika? All of them together? I don't know! But I do know Viv would rather escape from being accused of wlw underrepresentation. Since she has promised S3 is going to be "a queer roller coaster" she would need to dilute her sausage party a bit. And of course the lesbian ship (whichever it would be) is poorly developed.

New unnecessary characters for celebrity VA's ⭐

Stolass was kidnapped... again?! Yes, Striker abducted him before but... Why wouldn't do this one more time? After all the stans love presenting Viv's auto-plagiarism as meaningful "symbolic parallels". Besides kidnapping is one of the most beloved tropes in fanfiction. And HB is an animated fanfic for sure ⛓

More shitty dads/exes? Because Viv adores reusing the same tropes over and over again 💩

"Positive" characters keep being justified and woobified infinitely 😇 while villains are losing all their charisma and braincells from episode to episode 😈

Nobody will ever remember that Stolass harassed Blitzø 🙈

Nobody will ever remember that Ozzie allows succubi to enter the mortal realm and seduce humans by hypnotic songs (which doesn't sound pro-consent, does it, Mr. Lust-Is-Not-About-Force?) 🙉

Nobody will ever remember that Queen Bee runs shelters (which are essentially slave trade hellholes) in terrible conditions 🙊

Stolass' "depression" is brought up occasionally as a reason to justify and pity him. Stolass' immediately healed by Stella's death. Right after that the depression has disappeared completely. Therapy sessions aren't required. Even if the therapy is shown then only as a lame joke 🌧

Stolass brings his powers back because he's out... for LOOOOoOHoOOOHoOOVE!!! 💓💃🏻

Stolass gets everything he ever wanted without any efforts and self-improvement. Because he's good enough already and everyone who disagree is just stupid and mean 🏆

Aaaaaaaand that's all! My forecast: at least 80% of these predictions will come true one way or another. And what do you think? Maybe you have your own ideas? Please share those in the comments/reblogs! It'd be cool if someone made a bingo based on all this. It definitely wouldn't be me because today I'm identifying myself as a lazy ass. Bye-bye! 👋😊

[acmeangel]

♡ For my Valentine's Week Event! ♡ SFW fluffy!!! ♡ Modern!Levi x Reader ♡ Short one shot, fluffy ♡ Summary: It's your first Valentine's Day with Levi—what does he do? (I built this around one of my headcanons from here!)

"This is fucking ridiculous," Levi muttered under his breath as he navigated the uncharacteristically disastrous war zone that was his kitchen. As he held up the recipe, leaving flour-coated finger prints on it, his eyes scanned over the same step repeatedly, his brow cinched with exasperation.

"What the hell does it mean to cream butter?" he griped, turning the paper over, as if it magically would have new instructions on it. "Who in their right mind would assume everyone knows what that means?"

He set his hands down on the counter, sighing with frustration, as he took in the sights of his attempt to make sugar cookies—your favorite—though he'd internally drawn the line at heart-shaped cookie cutters. It was Valentine's Day, the first one you'd be spending together.

While you'd reassured him repeatedly that you weren't expecting him to do anything, that you'd be more than happy to just spend a night in together, he saw the way your eyes sparkled when you saw the pink and red Valentine's Day window displays at every store you passed by. He was determined not to mess this up—he felt lucky that he'd even been able to win you over in the first place, given his lack of "game" as Erwin had called it.

Levi was never one for grand gestures—and that wasn't about to change on a whim—so he'd decided on baking your favorite treat, making you dinner, and giving you flowers. For him, this was considered over-the-top.

What Levi hadn't expected was how goddamned complicated it was to make sugar cookies. He'd barely managed to create something that resembled dough, when he checked the time and realized that you'd be arriving soon.

"Shit," he mumbled, his kitchen still in disarray, and dinner not even started. At least, he thought, I managed to get the flowers. He'd picked up a bouquet of your favorite flowers earlier that day, which sat on the kitchen table, away from the disaster zone.

Before he could reconsider his plan or come up with a backup, he heard the sound of your key in the lock to the front door (he'd only just recently given you your own key). Moments later, you appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you took in the sight.

You started laughing—you couldn't help it.

"Levi," you said, a smile beaming on your face, "what in the world is going on in here?"

His expression turned classically grumpy, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment.

"They make these recipes impossible to follow," he said, defensively, holding up the recipe for you to see. "I couldn't explain to you what half of this is telling me to do."

You laughed again, stepping further into the kitchen, dodging the messes that were surely driving Levi to his breaking point.

"Let me see that," you said, an amused smile on your face as you took the paper from him, scanning over it briefly. "Sugar cookies, hm?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes studying your expression, "I wanted to make them for you. I know you like them."

Your expression softened as you put down the recipe and looked at him, your hand reaching up to gently brush away a smudge of flour from his forehead.

"Levi," you said, your voice soft and filled with affection for this man who was really trying his best to make you happy, "you didn't have to do all this. But, I appreciate it. Really."

One of the corners of his lips tugged into a half-smile. "I didn't fuck up entirely. I got you flowers." He nodded toward the table where the bouquet was waiting for you.

"Mmm, I can see that," your voice dipped just above a whisper. "Thank you, Levi."

You leaned in, your lips meeting his for a soft, flour-coated kiss.

"This recipe really isn't that complicated, though," you added, a loving tease. "I'll show you later, and then I'll let you go to town cleaning this kitchen."

"Ah," he said, his arm sliding down to wrap around your waist and draw you in closer, "you know just what I want."

You giggled, your arms slinging behind his neck. "That's because I love you, Levi."

"Love you, too," he replied, a faint raise to his eyebrow as he added, "But next year, I'm taking you out, instead."

♡ Participate in my Valentine’s Week Event! Rules are here.

♡ Requested by anonymous

♡ Masterlist