#ask warmer hues

[ask-warmer-hues]

Hello dammek, how's life?

[littlelordfuckler0y]

Felix catton x reader Instagram au

yourusername if I can’t Oppenheimer my way out of this sem, I’ll Oppenheimer my way out

yourfriend NO LMFAO not the green apple 😭

yourusername was held hostage at the lab today

yourfriend you mean had to prepare a lab report right there?

yourusername had to perform the experiment three times.

yourfriend I support the green apple

fel1xcatt0n Pub tonight. See you?

yourusername I’ll try to make it but I think lab’s gonna run late…you guys carry on tho :)

-

Sun casted a bright yellow hue from the grass to the glass, making the general weather warmer than usual. Walking alongside her friend y/n was somewhat surprised to see the notification of felix’s comment pop up, voluntarily inviting her to the pub, again. Quite the modern day tragedy it felt like to have to decline it because their labs ran very late. But regardless it was surprising to say at the very least, “We just had drinks with his friends once and he’s inviting us again?” She said as she showed her friend the notification.

“Woah.” Her friend said as they looked at the notification and smiled “well, inviting you but this is-this is cool?”

“You and I are a package deal so inviting me is inviting you.” Y/n said as their friend stared at the comment and the reply, they were analysing the interaction.

“Oh okay yes” they nodded “Also when did he start following you?”

“Okay so we had drinks two days ago right? I think, that night, but it was after I returned to my dorm and I don’t remember exchanging socials.” Y/n said as she went through their interaction from drinks that night.

Her friend tilted their head raising brows, “oh so he looked you up. Plus your account’s open and he still commented? Wow.” They implied in a surprised yet elated tone.

“Wait-what? What do you mean by open account? Almost everyone has open accounts?” Y/n stated confused with a shrug.

“Yeah and anyone can see his comment on YOUR page. So he wasn’t embarrassed to comment now that’s the outlook.”

“Why would he be embarrassed to comment?” Y/n said as she looked at her friend in somewhat the offended tone.

“Are you serious? You have 79 followers.” Her friend said giving her a tight smile to comfort her through their brutal honestly.

“Exactly. Even the serving lady follows me. I get along with everybody.” She stood her ground with an obvious shrug.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you want to repeat that first sentence?” Her friend asked her with a sigh as y/n contemplated that. She needed the serving lady’s follow to reach upto 79 followers as social as it may seem. “Also, don’t forget how we got drinks with him and his friends in the first place.”

“Oh” she said nodding, “We were getting alcohol for lab work on a weekend, wow, yeah I see it now…”

“But. Come on. He commented.” Her friend said pointing her phone screen which still had her comment section open like a textbook.

“Him and his friends most definitely thinks we’re the coolest.” Y/n added regaining her optimism.

“Well…” her friend trailed off not wanting to dampen the enthusiasm “I like how you positive you are.”

“I wish we didn’t have lab today” She whined and rested her head on the lab table.

yourusername ideal study session

fel1xcatt0n can’t believe you never tried the Chinese place around the corner…

yourusername Sorry to break it to you but it is not crime

fel1xcatt0n literally is.

yourfriend ^^it is a crime

-

“So you ditched us to get Chinese last night?” Farleigh asked raising a sharp brow as he’d scroll through his phone and stumbled upon a certain post.

“How’d you know?” Felix asked as he turned in his chair to look at farleigh.

“Y/n has the dumbest social media presence” Farleigh stated as she scrolled through her previous posts “I mean all her posts are some ugly project model and if not that it’s some random cats?”

“Oh yeah it was a last minute plan-to get Chinese whatever…” felix trailed off with a sigh.

“What is this girl doing? She is too pretty to post stupid jokes and labs god” Farleigh complaint as he went through y/n’s posts. “2 likes on each post yeah, you’ve got to give it to her dedication to document everything.” He scoffed.

“Can you stop stalking her?” Felix urged rolling his eyes.

“Oh I’m stalking her?” Farleigh asked tilting her head. “I know you just out of curiosity asked around for the D wing lab timings and you just happened to be there by the end of her lecture yes sure” with not much reply felix just threw a pillow at farleigh which he happened to dodge.

-

Fel1xcatt0n local pen and paper girl in her natural habitat

yourusername LMFAO

yourusername didn’t see you click this one

Fel1xcatt0n ;)

farleigh_start you are not subtle.

Fel1xcatt0n thank you for your input

yourusername at that point in semester when breadboard starts looking like bread

farleigh_start why do stem majors follow diet culture the ugly way ew

yourusername I’m not dieting????

farleigh_start then why does your charcuterie board look so ugly

yourusername never mind…

yourfriend LITERALLY I was thinking the same thing

yourusername “what happened to your group project” well…professor…we got hungry

Fel1xcatt0n this is not funny

yourusername ouch.

Fel1xcatt0n be there in 5

Fel1xcatt0n healthiest thing she’s had in decades…

yourusername thanks MOM

Fel1xcatt0n laugh all you want but you can’t live on sugar donuts and ramen

yourusername try me

farleigh_start …

farleigh_start you have never passed me the table salt

—

I really like this and I’d like to do more parts but it feels pretty stupid idk if I’ll do more parts pls let me know what you think <3

DRINK WATER AND HIIII ILY

requests are open go nuts!!

[astraystayyh]

Orange

hyunjin x reader. childhood friends to lovers. implied soulmates. hyune's pov.

this is the prequel & sequel to you're in the wind, i'm in the water. you need to read the prev fic first to understand how hyunjin and mc confessed to one another!!

this is very self indulgent but it's also my bd gift so i get a pass hehe also a tribute to one of my fav love languages which is peeling an orange for someone :')

based on Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey,, so highly recommend listening to it while reading :)) feedback is appreciated as always <333

i'm on the run with you my sweet love

The beige sand warms the soles of your feet as you and Hyunjin run along the shore. His parents sit by a towel, watching you with idle curiosity as you’re propelled forth by the brisk winds; and a sense of feedom only found in the tender hearts of children.

Hyunjin doesn’t know where you’re taking him. He didn’t question you when you entwined your fingers with his before running away, your footprints etched upon the sandy canvas. His sole attention was on your clammy hand, tightly clasping his.

Hyunjin didn’t yet understand what it meant to crave the hand of someone in yours, for it to feel natural for fingers to hold one another. He was only seven. What does one really know at this age?

But he knew that he was drawn to grand things. The beauty of fireworks as they unfold in the sky, dazzling colors rivaling the hues of sunsets. To the towering sunflowers his mother takes him to see, so tall their petals almost seem to be reaching for the sun’s embrace. To the full moon and the way it hangs close to earth, as if yearning to enter our horizon, to sink into the soil and rest.

But in that moment, as he watched your gleeful smile, the blush tinting your cheeks as you tugged him along, a different amazement grew within his soul. It was quiet, it was soft, it didn't overwhelm his seven-years-old heart. It was enough.

You finally stop by a rock, settling in the sand with your hair fanning around you like a halo. Hyunjin hovers over you, his tentative gaze tracing your features, trying to pinpoint what had made that peculiar feeling pour over his body, like candle wax finally meeting its destined mold.

He doesn't find an answer, only your kind smile as you tap the place near you. You were giddy, as if you had run far when his parents remained mere meters away.

Hyunjin had noticed this urge in you to flee, to wander, always. He didn't know what it means. He thought that perhaps you didn't know either. He wondered if you'd ever run away from him. The question burned the tip of his tongue.

"Will we always run together?" Hyunjin suddenly asks, kneeling to meet your eyes.

"If you want to," you shrug. "Will you run away with me when we're older?"

"Where to?" he asks, a note of apprehension coloring his tone.

"I don't know. We'll know later."

"Okay."

"You pinky promise?"

"I do," Hyunjin entwines his pinky with yours, before leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. He avoids your eyes as a dusty blush cascades on his cheeks, akin to the fading pink of a sunken sunset. You giggle, reciprocating the kiss before pressing your thumbs together.

"Sealed forever," you grin, eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Your contagious happiness mirrors instantly on Hyunjin's face, his nose scrunching up in delight.

He wants to keep this smile on your face, he thinks, this intricate joy that dawns upon your features, brightening up your face, making your pinky in his feel lighter, warmer.

So, he takes out an orange from his pocket.

"Where did you get this?" you chuckle, eyes widening in delight as if presented with the world's most treasured jewel.

"A vendor gave it to me," he shrugs, handing it to you.

Your thumb punctures the tangerine's thick skin, making the fruit’s juice drip down your hands. You attempt to peel it but the skin breaks instantly, falling into the sand.

"Here, let me," Hyunjin offers, taking the orange from your hands, peeling it for you.

A strange warmth slowly spreads through his being, akin to tree roots anchoring onto the soil, to the unfurling of petals on the first day of spring. It feels good, for some reason, to do this mundane task for you.

This newfound feeling only solidifies when you smile brightly at him, breaking the fruit into two halves and handing one part to Hyunjin.

You no longer look like you want to run. You look content here, simply sharing an orange with him.

Hyunjin suddenly wants to buy you a whole crate of tangerines. Maybe even a farm of it- just trees upon trees that he can plant for you. He chases the thought away, he's only seven, he doesn't have money, where would he even store the oranges?

Hyunjin didn't have the answer to this question, nor the million ones swirling in his mind. But he knew your smile, the kindness in your eyes, the lingering scent of oranges on his fingers, even after washing his hands. And the word that sat heavy on his soul, from that night forth.

Hyunjin knew he loved you when he was seven years old.

there is nothing wrong contemplating God; under the chemtrails over the country club

"Found you," Hyunjin whispers, reclining on the rooftop near you.

"Wasn't hiding from you," you respond just as softly, your gaze fixed on the turquoise sky overhead. Your words cause Hyunjin's heart to swell within his chest, growing, expanding, pushing against his ribs, yearning to escape and splatter at your feet.

His emotions were always so grand- his happiness consuming his entire being, the sadness, the loneliness rattling his bones with an invincible cold. Then the love for you, not in dependence, the way the planets orbit around the sun. But with choice, because he wants to, craves being near.

"What are you doing?" he asks after a while, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Watching the chemtrails," you point out a tiny plane leaving a white trail in the sky.

"It looks so far away," he whispers in wonder, and you hum with a melancholic expression. Hyunjin curls his hand into a fist, resisting the urge to smooth the delicate frown etched on your brows.

"Didn't you like your birthday celebration?" he finally asks. He knows the answer before you quietly say, 'yes.' You were never one for the chic attire, the fine china and polished silverware reflecting the guests fake smiles. You only ever came to the country club for Hyunjin.

"I just... these people are here for me, supposedly. And yet, I feel so invisible downstairs. I bet no one even noticed my absence."

"I did," he replies instantly, contradicting you vehemently, wanting to dispel the shadows that cloud your mind. "And... I brought you an orange," he adds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It grows when you beam at him, the chemtrails momentarily forgotten.

"Did you?"

"Mm, here," he swiftly peels the fruit for you, instinctively breaking it into two halves.

"I'm sixteen and I don't know how to peel a tangerine because of you," you giggle, biting into one part eagerly. Water dribbles down the side of your mouth, and Hyunjin delicately wipes it away, his hand cradling your jaw gently.

His heart beats wildly, drowning out the country club's orchestra. He's never been this close to you, noses nearly bumping into one another.

"Don't learn how to," he whispers, licking his lips nervously. He hopes you can't feel the tremor in his hand as it slides down your cheek.

"Why?"

"Then you won't need me anymore," he says honestly, and your eyes widen at his words. Say it, his heart pleads, I can't contain this love anymore. Hyunjin shakes his head, silencing his own thoughts. He'll make room for it; his heart will expand, even if it means bursting at the seams. He can't face your rejection.

"Can I ask you something?" you say after a while, still as close to him.

"Anything."

"Do you ever feel like you don't belong anywhere? You have friends and family, but you feel like..."

"Nobody's son?" he suggests.

"Yeah, nobody's daughter."

"Maybe we're not meant to belong to anyone else but ourselves."

"Isn't that sad?" you ask, bringing an orange wedge to Hyunjin's mouth. "What if I don't always have myself?"

"Well, you'll always have me."

"Do you promise me?" you ask eagerly, eyes wide, tone almost desperate.

"I promise." The fog dissipates, light spilling over your face once again.

"Even though you're so sought after?" you giggle.

"I'm not!"

"You are! Everybody wanted to talk to you downstairs. You're always the man of the hour," you wink, lying down on the floor once again.

"Really? I didn't notice," he says, settling next to you.

"Mm, you never notice anything," you sigh, resting your cheek atop his shoulder.

It's quiet again, save for the tranquil sound of your breaths. Your eyes are trained on the sky, following the path of each plane.

"They look really tiny."

"Maybe we're the small ones," you muse.

Hyunjin doesn't agree. Not when his love for you feels almost ancient, drawn from the depths of the very first fountain of love. It has stayed with him for nine years, intermingled with the very molecules of his being. You can't be small when what he feels for you is grander than the world.

"Maybe we are," he says as he slides an arm underneath your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Hyune," you call out softly.

"Mm?" he hums in reply.

"What do you think you're made for?"

I'm here to love you, he wants to say, achingly, fully, on your grand days and your small ones. To fall apart at the altar of your soul and to rise anew, by you, for you. To be yours.

"I'm here to peel you oranges." He whispers instead, his confession, for now.

"And I'm here to eat them, then."

we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool; it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me

"Did you know you have a straight trail of moles on your back?" Hyunjin whispers, his cool breath akin to a gentle zephyr.

"It starts here," he bestows a tender kiss beneath your shoulder blade, as if marking the start of a constellation. "Then you have another one here," his lips brush against your skin, coaxing forth delicate goosebumps, like ripples on a moonlit pond. "And here," he trails down your spine, his mouth weaving a trail only he can see. "And a final one here," he lingers longer near the last mole, lips meeting your lower back delicately, akin to the tender graze of a feather.

If you had told Hyunjin that he would freely kiss your moles, hands trailing down your skin scented with chlorine and vanilla, he would have thought you were insane. But now he has you, because you want him too, against all odds. Hyunjin wasn't alone in his love; every emotion in your soul mirrored his own. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same tangerine.

"And then... it wraps around your stomach," he flips you around until you face him, giddy giggles escaping your lips. "You see it? It goes right here, another straight line," he whispers in wonder, tracing over the moles on your skin as if in worship. There is so much he longs to articulate, words yearning to spill from his mouth. He realizes he can say them now, drape them over your body like a blanket knitted with love.

"Someone plucked stars and arranged them on your skin. You're a galaxy on your own, you know that right? So beautiful," he whispers, eyes wide in adulation, raking over each feature of yours, so much they're seared behind his eyelids. The only sight he sees when he goes to sleep.

"So are you," you smile, hands gently cradling his cheeks. Hands that held him at age seven, then eight, ten, thirteen, and twenty. Hands that dried his tears, patted his back, and played with his hair. Hands that are much more sacred than his own.

"No, you don't understand," he hovers over you, gently smoothing down your hair. "You're so beautiful, so much it dizzies me, consumes me. You consume me, entirely, and I-" He sucks in a deep breath as you smile lovingly, reassuringly.

"I know," you say. "I feel it too."

"I can't believe this is real," he shakes his head, thumb tracing your lower lip gently. "I didn't even plan on confessing when i brought you to this pool. And yet... it feels natural for us to be this way."

You nod, grinning. "Like we belong to one another."

"I told you I'd stay," his eyes soften, capturing you with the same tenderness as always, savoring every part of you.

"You always keep your promises," you smile, hand sliding down the nape of his neck, smoothing a stubborn tuft of hair.

Normal, that's the elusive term he was looking for. It is normal for him to hold you, to kiss you, to look into your eyes and find love swimming in your irises. It is the way it's supposed to be between you. He couldn't ever think of another outcome.

His eyes trail down to your arm, where two moles match perfectly with his, down to the placement, the space separating them both.

"Is this where we kissed each other the most in our past lives?" he trails off, knuckles brushing against your arm gently. You mirror his touch.

"So you believe we're soulmates?"

"Mm, I've always known."

"And why didn't you tell me?" you grin, tilting your head to the side.

"I peeled you tangerines."

His words seem to ignite something within you, memories of each time he peeled you oranges flooding back. Every birthday, each time you were sad, every time the fruit was near.

You stand up, straddling Hyunjin's lap, and then you kiss his eye mole, then the one on his cheek, trailing down his jaw mole, his neck, his arms.

"What are you doing?" he giggles, warm hands on your lower back.

"Making sure those moles show up in our next life too."

And at your words, Hyunjin swore that the citrusy scent of tangerines suddenly wafted in the air.

washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night TV i want you only

Your legs are comfortably propped on top of Hyunjin's, matching pairs of beige pajamas seamlessly merging into one another. The sweet scent of shampoo lingers in the air—a fragrance Hyunjin carefully massaged into your hair twenty minutes ago, his fingers still as gentle as they grazed your scalp, now at the age of twenty-six.

Nearly two decades later, Hyunjin still knows that he loves you. It is a different one from the love he felt at seven—a metamorphosis akin to the moon's phases, from crescent to full, distinct yet continuous. It clung to his being, melted into the very essence of his soul.

"Just how many white shirts do you own?" you giggle, folding another pair of Hyunjin's clothing, the melody of your laughter still rattling the insides of his heart. He smiles sheepishly, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before responding, "You wear half of them with me."

"Your clothes are mine. You agreed on this when you proposed to me," you state matter-of-factly.

"And what else did I agree on?" he smiles, placing two pairs of matching socks in the basket—yours and his.

"That you'd kiss me instead of doing the laundry," you say mischievously, and he chuckles, tilting his head back. The clothes are momentarily forgotten as he lowers your body onto the couch, one hand cradling your head.

"You know I can't say no to you," he smiles, left dimple appearing as it always does when you're near.

"I know," you grin, pulling him down by the hem of his pajamas, your lips meeting his.

Hyunjin still kisses you with the same quiet passion, slowly, as if rediscovering you all over again. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek gently, as his lips find yours again and again—rosy, plump, seeking solace in your familiar warmth.

He's always been drawn to mysteries, grand things, and overwhelming emotions that defy comprehension. Things he'd never fully know, things he'd never be bored of. Yet, with you, it's different; he knows you, he's learned you, and he loves you more every day—purposefully, by choice, because he can't fathom a reality where he doesn't.

His lips press upon yours one last time before he pulls you onto his lap, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "You smell nice," he whispers.

"I smell like you."

"I know," he smiles, a gentle breeze escaping his lips and caressing your skin.

He closes his eyes, savoring the quietness, the domesticity of the scene—the folded laundry on the table, the background hum of the TV, the meal you'll cook later, waltzing under the fridge's light. You, the one love of his life—the small love and the grand one, the first love and the last one. The embodiment of it all.

Your arms drape around his shoulders as you relax in his hold, your breaths syncing into a tranquil rhythm. He's built himself a home in the ridges of your collarbones, a place for him to rest in the crook of your shoulder blade. Both of you are okay, both of you are safe.

"Do you remember when we were seven? We traveled together for the first time," you speak after a while, a weighty emotion enveloping your voice.

"I do."

"You promised me we'd run away when we grow older."

"I did."

"I don't want to run anymore. I'm content with you, right here," you whisper, and the words feel like sunflowers blooming in Hyunjin's chest. "I was so scared of growing up, of never feeling like I belong. To myself, to anyone. But I do, with you."

"Always," he pulls away, bringing your hand to his mouth, leaving sweet kisses on your ring finger.

"Thank you, my Hyune," you say, tears gathering in your eyes like morning dewdrops on leaves. "Thank you for peeling my oranges."

Your nose brushes against his, his thumb drawing circles on your palm.

"Thank you for pretending you don't know how to."

[itstheghostofmypast]

Girlboss

Corporate Worker Jung Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: Why would his angel hide this from him? Especially when he'd been waiting day and night for this day to come- no, especially when he'd give her the whole world on a silver platter, all she had to do was ask. For Jung Wooyoung, lived to serve- lived to serve her.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.2K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: The amount of oneshots I've written to cope with exams is frightening- anyway, @edenesth- GOOD LUCK

"What are you doing here?"

His head snapped up at the question,  eyes widening at the realisation of being caught, a crimson hue spreading across his face, the same face he had tried to hide- with the classic glasses and cap duo.

"I … um…" Pulling down his glasses he blinked at her, "Sorry miss, I don't know you." with that he went back to texting- or rather pretended to do so. Ignoring the sound of her sitting across him, the screech of the chair was muffled by the people around them.

Placing her bag on the table she hummed, leaning forward to get a better look at his all-black choice of attire, "Are you twinning with me or are you wearing black because you wanted to hide?"

A cheeky smile broke past his 'cool' exterior, a chuckle following suit before he pulled off his glasses, neatly placing them on top of his cap, " A bit of both, boss."

"I'm not your boss, Wooyoung."

"Well," he leaned closer, enough for only her to hear his words, "Not yet." His hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together with ease, no resistance was met, which meant she was in a good mood, which meant she had good news, which meant the rest of the day would perhaps be good too- well, at least in terms of chronology and the cycle of 'luck be with you'- whatever that meant when San told him to slip in the small 'lucky cat' keychain in her purse.

"True." she hummed in response, looking around the almost empty cafe, smart, he chose the place across her office, the office where she had an interview, but she did instruct him not to follow her, so why was he here?

"So, you got good news, they said they'll definitely get back to you?" his words were quick, fast-paced and laced with excitement, honestly, he had never been excited about his own work as much as he was for hers- possibly because he had been present during the late nights and endless hours of research, managing life, struggling to maintain those pesky grades all the while trying to be an active and emotionally available partner.  What he did not expect was for her not to tell him about her interview date, she had invited him for everything, else convocation and whatnot, so why keep this a secret?

"Even better, we discussed my salary as well." she smiled at him, brighter than the stars he'd love to watch with her at night, warmer than the summer sun that he loved. 

This was it, it was exactly this very reason that had him go all spy mode early in the morning and follow after her. He'd been awake before she slipped out of bed, he'd been awake when she came out of the shower, he'd been awake when she was trying to quietly make himself breakfast and he was awake when she came up to his side and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, mumbling an 'I love you'. He had thrown off the blankets, already dressed for the mission - he changed when she was in the kitchen- putting on the cap and glasses he had made sure to follow her discreetly, to not take his car but use public transport, to reach the destination before she could- while she was busy looking for a place to park, he had already found a nice seat across the road at the cafe, making sure to have a view of the entrance of the office- what he did not expect was for her to catch him. For when she did, he was actually formulating a text, calculating if she was free by now, to surprise her and tell her to come into the cafe across the street where she'd arrive and be greeted by the loving sight of him and her favourite English breakfast.

"That's great." giving her hand a little squeeze, before he let go and sighed, "I just…I don't wanna ruin the mood but…" sighing he averted his gaze, was the question really worth it? Should he bring it up? This was about her achieving a huge milestone in her life, about how she was going to start something new, something she'd been striving to achieve- maybe she didn't want him to be there because it would be better that way, maybe she wanted some space, maybe he was holding her back, maybe-

"I was…scared," she whispered, reaching for his hand again, clasping it in both of hers, pulling him closer so he was leaning across the table, much like her, "I was scared of disappointing you, so I didn't wake you up and-"

"Disappoint me? my sweet angel, if anything, you are the reason why I get up for a nine-to-five job every morning, how could you ever disappoint me? Do you think I'd be upset if you got the job at the same company as mine?" Frowning at her, he scanned her features, trying to look for any signs of discomfort or unease, had he been not expressing himself enough? Had he not been telling her how much he was proud of her enough? Had he been a bad boyfriend-

"I was too afraid of rejection, Woo, I didn't want to come out of that office to see the disappointment on your face- I know how bad you want us to work in the same office." She smiled, sensing his inner turmoil, she could tell when he'd be debating on choosing his next words carefully, which was rare because Wooyoung's chattering would often be quicker than his brain could formulate the pros and cons of the chatter.

"I- how could they reject you, you're literally the coolest person I have ever met." he gasped, pulling back with a scoff, "I'd personally go in there and knock some sense into Hongjoong."

Shaking her head at his comment she chuckled, "Only you would think that is a great quality for a job applicant." Smiling, she waved to the waiter who was looking for the only table that had ordered the special breakfast at noon.

"I know you would- but to celebrate I got us-," leaning back she thanked the waiter to place the platters of English breakfast, four to be exact, four platters? He thanked the two before speed-walking away, probably presuming the two were insane.

"Um…did you order an English breakfast too?" she asked, eying the food, only for him to sigh and shake his head at her antics.

"I was going to surprise my angel with a nice warm meal- guess we're so in love we're basically ruining each other's surprises." With that, he pushed a platter towards her and a glass of juice, "Eat up lovely, the corporate world is not for the weak, and my girl ain't no one to be messed with." 

Her heart almost leapt out of her throat and into his palm at the statement, to be all snug and all his, watching him slice and dice her breakfast into smaller pieces for her, now literally standing above the table to do so, he really was a blessing and she was grateful to whatever entity out there for gracing her with him.

"Imma call you snookum's at work." "I'll report for harassment." "Damn, tough crowd."

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee @mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

[irishmammonagenda]

hiiii ! ^_^ I love your writing sm

I was listening to music just relax, and randomly I thought of MC with "You're loosing me" AND I HAD TO SHARE IT WITH SOMEONE. Especially from minute 3:00 to the end 😭😭😭😭 imagine a fic inspired in that song with a traumatized mc after their death 🥲

hiya!! i'm so glad 🫶🫶🫶🫶 tbh i dont really listen to taylor so i had to look up this one, but oml it kinda does fit MC sm???!!!

honestly tysm for the ask, i don't normally write seriousish fics so this was a fun change grma <3

ALSO IM SO SORRY THE TITLES SO CRINGE I COULDNT THINK OF A GOOD ONE

Surface Tension- Obey Me x Reader

Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as a demon, only their death affected them more than they thought. Word Count: 2.8k+ Warnings: Mentions of Death, leans more into Lucifer x Reader, especially at the end. (i am so sorry abt that I had no idea where this fic was going myself tbh) Descriptions of drowning. Hurt/Comfort? I have no idea how to write trauma I am so sorry, (this isn't apart of my 'Death is a Debatable thing Au) dividers are a mixmatch of ones by @plum98 @isisjupiter and @cafekitsune bc im indecisive

The thing you missed most were your pact marks. Intricate designs etched into your skin, that shone the colours of the people you loved, a reminder you were someone. You had something. A security blanket of sorts. Now they were gone, clear glass sin, almost poreless, uncanny replaced the lines and marks and humans´ perfect imperfection that provided a canvas for the hues that you were sure had painted your heart.

It hurt.

You fiddle with your hands, trying to contain the urge to just...pop. The horns and the tail had been disorienting to get used to. You still preferred your 'human' form, the only issue was controlling it. It would come with time, or so everyone had told you.

They told you a lot of things would come with time. You weren't so hopeful.

"I....it's just-" you flick your gaze around the room, looking anywhere but the demon in there with you. "...the dying part..."

"The dyin' part..." Mammon sits by your side, ever your first man, his eyes gaze at you, so loving, so adoring, it hurts your heart. "I don't understand the dyin' MC....I couldn't never understand the dyin'...." He brings a hand to rest on yours hesitantly, his false bravado nowhere to be found.

"I know you don't Mams..." You meet his gaze, his eyes as blue as the sky on a summer's day, warmer than the sun, and softer than silk when he looks into yours.

"It doesn' mean I won't try te....understand...I mean." He clears is throat awkwardly. "There's nothin' I wouldn't do for ye...not now not ever."

Your heart feels heavy.

Rushing water beats against porcelain. Steam slowly rose in swirls as the bathtub filled up. You fold your towels and set them by the sink beside the clothes you had set out. Pulling the satin robe that was a gift from a certain Asmodeus, you placed it on one of the hooks on the door, before twisting the taps to a stop. You submerged yourself into the warm water, your tense muscles relaxing as you leaned backwards in the tub from where you were sitting, legs touching the bottom of the porcelain. 

It had been so long. 

So long since you were able to just relax like this. You loved the brothers and the others, but sometimes you needed the solitude of your own thoughts. That wasn’t to say Asmo’s self care nights weren’t relaxing. 

You sighed. 

The water enveloped you, you had leaned back enough to where your head had begun to submerge. All was well. The water was warm, your muscles slowly relaxed, along with the rest of your body. Your eyes slowly blinked closed. 

All was fine. Your relaxed muscles let your head fall back. All was well. Your ears were now submerged. All was fine. 

Except it wasn’t. A switch had flicked. Your eyes shot wide open. You could no longer feel the bottom of the porcelain bathtub, panic and dread tugged at your arteries, squeezing your jugular. You flailed and thrashed your limbs, your head dipped under for a millisecond. 

Clear water turned murky. 

Your arms burnt after another weak attempt, head breaking the stormy surface of the lough for a moment; only a moment. Hardly long enough to draw a breath. Your eyes stung. Your throat ached, desperation choked at your airways. 

You found yourself submerged again. The currents slammed into rocks. Your hair rose upwards, strands sticking to your face like some sort of seaweed, hindering your vision as the waves flung you against hard rock. Your hands clawed at the stone, too slippery to catch a grip. The stormy water slammed you against another rock. You broke the horrid surface of the water, gasping and spluttering. Your throat burned like sinners in the 7th circle of hell. You just barely gasped in a morsel of oxygen before being dragged under by the force of the waves. 

You were slammed mercilessly into another hard wall of stone, your attempts at clawing for a grip so desperate you drew blood at your fingertips. 

You had survived demons, witches, angels. You had survived hell. Yet earth would be the one to take you out, so it seemed. You couldn’t hold your breath any longer, your mouth opened. You inhaled desperately, lungs aching for air. Water filled them instead. 

You gasped and spluttered. The surface of the water too rough to do a dead man’s float without risking your life further. The waves smacked you against hard rock once more, eroding at your hopes for survival. 

This was it. 

You were going to die. You’re drowning. You’ve drowned. 

The last thing you felt before you succumbed to the wild waves was the dull glow of your pact marks. With the last of your strength, you let out a silent scream, submerged by the water. 

You screamed. Frenzied hands pull your sobbing form out of the clear water of the bath pulling your soaked, sobbing form to their chest. You gasp for air, lungs burning. 

“MC! Y-you’re fine! Don’t worry…you’re okay…you’re okay…!” An uncharacteristically frenzied Beel holds you to his chest, massive arms enveloping you, he cards a gentle hand through your hair as you sob and upheave, your chest tight and your breath running from you. “You’re okay MC….follow my breathing…”

Hardly hearing him, you comply either way. Matching the breaths of the sixth born, your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing begins to even. Eventually, you sit wrapped in the arms of the Avatar of Gluttony, breathing deeply and slowly, your heart rate slowed, your sobs quitened to the occasional sniffle, the tightness in your chest remains. 

You chuckle humourlessly. “I’m sorry Beel….got your clothes all wet.” 

Beel shakes his head seriously, eyes on yours. “It’s never a problem. Not if it’s you MC.” He stands up with you still in his arms. Carefully, the redhead sets you down on your two feet. Strong hands on either side of you, a stabliser. “C’mon…let’s get you dressed MC…can you stand?”

Slowly you nod.

That night you found yourself in the living room, Belphie asleep, head on your shoulder. Mammon splayed across your lap, Asmo’s arm around your waist, Beel was on the other side of his twin, but held your hand, rubbing soothing circles subconsciously into your palm. Levi sat on the ground, switch in hand, cheek leaning against your thigh.  Satan and Lucifer sat on the nearest armchairs though they sat facing opposite each other, Lucifer half reading official documents, half watching the show his brothers and little human demon were watching, Satan doing the exact same, except his reading material was a book. 

You weren't sure how or if they knew what had happened an hour prior, but you were sure they knew this would cheer you up in some capacity.

You squeezed Beel’s hand, the knot in your chest coming undone just enough you feel light.

The transition from Human to Demon was a hard one to get used to, one thing that hadn't changed however; were the balls hosted by Lord Diavolo. The only difference being that now you sported curved horns on the top of your head. You quickly found that Asmo liked to decorate them with little trinkets.

Which he had done today, as well as helping you pick out your outfit for the ball. You gave a twirl in one of his full length mirrors.

"Thanks Asmo I love it." You smile, messing with an ornament on your horn. Those are taking a while to get used to.

Asmodeus laughs gleefully, waving his hand. "It was nothing darling. I'd love to do it again! Oh...~ You look so gorgeous...." He says dreamily before he turns back to his makeup, carefully lining his lips in a dark pink.

You blush at the praise before leaving the room, not wanting to risk being (fashionably) late.

"MC!" Lord Diavolo greets cheerfully, pulling you in for a hug against his bare, tanned chest. The gold in his eyes and horns glow like fire in the light of the ballroom. "I'm so glad you could make it! You look stunning!" He laughs, strong arms wrapping tighter around you.

You smile, "I'm glad to be here, Dia."

"I'm glad..." He says softer now. If the both of your words were an innuendo, neither of you pointed it out.

Barbatos appears silently at the left hand side of the Demon Prince, shaking your hand, you give him a sweet smile.

You barely get to greet him before the Demon Butler swiftly makes his way across the ballroom, and out of the glazed, oak door that led to a short corridor and then led to the kitchens.

After more peasant conversation with Diavolo, another Demon Noble had arrived, the scarlet haired prince pouted at the thought of leaving you before waving and making his way towards one of Hell's Aristocrats.

You wave him goodbye, you scan the Ballroom, eyes locking with violet ones. The seventh born gives a small smirk, lazily making his way toward you.

Belphegor had seen your dreams. He had felt the water pool into your lungs, the air escaping your grasp, the harsh bruising of the rocks you were slammed into.

He saw every dream, tried to stop them from reaching you. Sometimes he failed, your mind wanted to return to that moment. To pick it apart, to relive what it didn't understand itself, to find an impossible answer.

Sometimes your mind, your wonderful, horribly beautiful mind; would be too adamant, would loop back to it.

He didn't protect you. Not when he first betrayed you, not when he crushed your bones in his grip.

He couldn't protect you. Not when you were flung from rock to rock, sharp edges digging into fragile skin. Not when water burnt through your throat like fire.

He couldn't protect you. Not when your dreams bypassed his control. Not when the thin threads of your trauma induced nightmares slipped through the cracks.

The Avatar of Sloth could only do so much, yet, it never felt like enough. He couldn't protect you.

"Hey Belph!" You grin, closing the distance between the two of you. "You seem distracted, whats up?"

Belphegor snaps out of it, lips upturning. "Oh nothing, I just thought of something for the Anti-Lucifer League....What about you, MC, enjoying yourself?"

"For the most part yeah! But I haven't seen Mammon anywhere...." You say thoughtfully before deadpanning. "He's going to be strung up upside down by tomorrow morning, isn't he?"

"Yep."

Hours passed, a sleeping Belphegor had been handed over to Beelzebub, who was currently carrying his twin home. You were tempted to ask to join, but decided against it.

You weren't made of glass, you had agency. You could handle a silly ball.

Standing in one of the corners, beverage in hand, you'd elected to just people watch for a while.

Levi sat semi-hidden by a curtain at the grand window, switch in hand, noise cancelling headphones in, no doubt reaching the end of his social battery.

Satan stood at the other side of the Grand Hall, talking with contacts and connections you couldn't recognise. Golden blond hair perfectly in place. Asmo must've fixed it up for him.

Speaking of Asmo, he was on the dance floor with various succubi, giggling, smiling, and just in general being a social butterfly.

Mammon however, was still no where to be seen. Probably looking for treasure. Classic Mams. You smile to yourself.

Lucifer stood, being entertained by admirorers of all shapes and sizes. You stiffened.

Sometimes you forgot the brothers were Hell's Most Eligible Bachelors. It was easy to forget, seeing as you lived with them, and they were all idiots.

You could feel Levi's worried eyes on you none the less. Your stomach twisted with his sin, orange as a yolk, what came first? the chicken or the egg? You didn’t know nor did you care. Why would Lucifer choose you anyway? A weak human demon who couldn’t even survive a…-

You gripped your drink tightly, knuckles lightening. You took a sip, but with your tense muscles, the liquid burnt its way down the wrong side of your throat.

You spluttered.

Even the droplet. Even the sip. It grew, multiplied even, filling your lungs like goop, you gasped for air. The ballroom flooded a murky green. Stumbling, you pushed through the oak door to the hallway, where it was quieter.

Your heart beat out of your chest, your breathing was laboured, leaning against the wall, you lost your boyancy, dripping down until you sat on the ground, knees to your chest.

You stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath, engaging your senses.

Three things you could hear;

Idle chatter from the ballroom, completely muffled by the heavy wooden door and stone walls. Your own laboured breathing, although it was catching up to you. The blood rushing in your ears, evaporating from a rapid raging river to a small sparkling stream.

Three things you could see;

The stone wall, dark liath limestone blocks and bricks melded together, midievil in their design, they reflected the light of the overheard torches in a subtle, orange glow. The glazed panes of a glass window, the moon shone bright tonight, as it always did in the Devildom. You liked to think it was watching over you. Maybe it was.

If you turnt your head to the left, an archway was visible, a simple one. It dug into the stone wall and ceiling, pushing against the internal structures, standing out whilst holding together.

You continued your listing, smell and taste were ruled out, on account of you not being able to taste, and there not being any real noticable smells.

Three things you could feel;

The fabric of the clothes Asmo chose for you streched on your skin, the seams digging into your thighs where you sat on the ground.

The stone floor, hard and cold, even with the layers you had on, you shivered ever so slightly.

And lastly, you could feel the phantom ache of pact marks long faded, your heart heart, though it had stopped beating out of your chest. You felt calmer, more in control, yet still;

You sniffled.

After all; you didn’t have the best track record for keeping your head above water.

That’s how Lucifer found you. The door hissing open and his signature boots clacking softly along the ground announced his presence.

“MC, my love, are you alright?” He raises an eyebrow, The Avatar if Pride putting his aside and hunkering down so that he was more or less eye level with you, concern pooled in his expression. He reached a gloved hand out and caressed your cheek.

You nod, croaking out an "I'm okay now..."

"Are you sure, my darling?" The first born looks into your tired eyes, before tilting his head, asking for permission. You grant it.

He pulls you in for a hug.

"What upset you, dove?" He asks softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"I-...I just feel like I've...like I've lost you all...and myself I guess...It sounds stupid! I know...but I just...-"

Lucifer hushes you, "Nothing you could say could ever sound stupid. He pauses. "Unless you're with Mammon...or planning something with Satan and Belphie."

That squeezes a giggle out of you. He smiles, tilting his head, a strand of raven hair falling ever so out of place at the movement, crimson eyes stare into yours.

"But that's not all, is it, dear?"

You mumble something unintelligible, but count on Lucifer Morningstar to hear it. "Have I told you yet? That you look absolutely gorgeous tonight, MC?" He asks in all seriousness. You avert your gaze.

He grabs your chin softly, "I'm serious, Darling. You're the best person at this ball, the best thing that has ever happened to my brothers...to me. Sometimes I feel you truly don't realise that...seems I must take care to remind you more often, my love."

You try to speak, but the air swallows up your words, your mouth open and gaping like a fish.

Lucifer's lips quirk up, he pulls you closer to his chest. You lean into him, giving a weak smile, ear pressed against his breast, listening to his heartbeat.

You felt calm; content even,

T he hug wasn't a fix it all. It wasn't some magic wand that had been waved, you weren't suddenly better. You were still traumatised, that emptiness, though dull, still ached in your heart, along with the places on your body the bright beautiful symbols of your pacts had been sketched onto your skin.

The hug was comforting none-the-less. Lucifer was impossibly gentle. He would cradle the ashes until you built yourself back up again in his arms, phoenixes need time to adjust before they can spread their wings, after all.

It would be hard. It would be so so difficult, so taxing, to rise from the ashes once more, to thrive again, but you had an army of idiots that loved you, who would go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile. It wasn't okay yet, you weren't 'fixed', you wouldn't be for a long time but you had years upon years, decades upon decades, centuries upon centuries.

i physically cannot write anything overly angsty bc im a wee softie smh this took me ages i am so sorry abt that </3 also i had another ask that i started planning out halfway through writing this and the contrast in the tone i was going for is so funny🧍‍♂️

[loveephia]

TOO ATTRACTED | kita shinsuke

sypnosis: in which kita is crushing over you, his wife, all over again.

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, kita admits his "troubles" to the reader, he's so romantically dense it's cute, round-cheeks-kita headcanon, aran is mentioned, sorta sucky writing and a reuse of certain phrases and actions from my older posts, timeskip, inspired by that one guy on reddit.

⚠ warning/s: none.

kita shinsuke is starting to feel like he did during his high school years again.

he doesn't know when or how it came to this, where he can't take his eyes off of you, or how everytime you touch him it feels like electricity, but he's starting to think that he's fallen ill.

his face gets warmer, both figuratively and literally, at the mere sight of you. have you always had this effect on him?

kita can't help but sweat when you're close. the way you snuggle into his side to steal all of his warmth almost made him flinch, as if this wasn't already a daily routine for you two.

every time you surprise him with a long kiss, he feels the need to hold you for support. by the waist, he prefers.

and whenever kita sees you playing with your wedding ring (a habit you developed), his heart swells. it's like a little reminder that he's married to you.

kita is lost in thought, and you just so happened to notice. "shin?" you call from the kitchen. kita faces you and sees you slicing some fruit, "are you okay?" you ask.

kita doesn't nod. maybe he can ask you why he's feeling this way. "can we talk?" kita asks, and you nod, making your way over to the couch, placing the bowl of fruit on the table in front of you. "what's on your mind, love?" you ask.

"love.." the nickname you called him every day, and every other day. he can feel your effect on him taking place already; with the way his heart was beating erratically against his ribcage, and the fact that he tries not to fidget with his own fingers.

"i— uhm.." did he just stutter? "..did you do something with yourself lately?" kita asked. you tilt your head before shaking it, "no, not that i can remember. why do you ask?" you respond.

"then i think i'm coming down with a flu." kita says. you widen your eyes that are filled with nothing but care, "really?" you lean over and gently place your hand under kita's bangs and on his forehead. somehow, the effect you had on him doubled.

his breath hitches from the proximity that he should be used to by now. he patiently waits for you to pull away and give him his diagnosis, but you only shrug. "i don't feel anything out of the ordinary.."

kita sighs, maybe it's best if he just tells you what's on his mind. "i just— i feel like how i did when we still attended high school." he says. you quirk a brow, not properly understanding his point of view, "what do you mean by that, shin?"

"whenever you walk into a room, aran would tell me how red my face got. i feel the need to protect you a lot more lately. not because i think you're incapable of defending yourself, but because i just want to. and when you kiss me.. i feel stiffer than usual." kita rants. "my eyes linger on you a little longer than it should, but i can't help it. you're just.." he pauses, seeing the soft smile on your face as you listened.

"so beautiful." he says, breathless.

you caress his round cheek that happened to be painted with a red hue. "now i'm no psychologist, but i think you're in love with me, shin." you said.

kita blinks at you. "but i've always loved you. why did i start feeling this way again only until recently?"

"how you felt when you were younger was probably just a crush, whereas it all felt new to you. being bashful over the person you like is normal." you explained, "like irina firstein said, "feelings don't dissipate over time, but only get stronger and deeper." so you might've just had a shift in the way you feel love now."

"but, alas, love is pretty weird, no?" you giggle.

kita nods, a small smile making its way on his handsome face.

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Morning sex with Aemond please? If you haven’t already

Thank you for patiently waiting (for over two months!!) for this. I am so sorry. I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: Smut, nothing too outlandish, just a good ol' fashioned early morning game of hide the sausage. Word count: ~800

Vibrant hues of yellow, orange and red filter through the gauzy bed curtains as her eyes flutter open, mind still foggy as she rouses into wakefulness. She is warm within the softness of the blankets, warmer still as she stretches out languidly towards the middle of the mattress. Her hand makes contact with the heated flesh of her husband’s bare chest and slowly she turns to face him.

Aemond lays on his side, propped up on his elbow amongst the pillows, watching her intently. His long silvery hair is loose around his shoulders, framing his face, as his sapphire eye glints dimly in the soft light of dawn. The natural curve of his lips turns ever so slightly further upwards at the sight of her, as she lays there sleepily taking him in. She is unused to seeing him like this, he rises much earlier than she does; something she makes a mental note to change. The sight of Aemond first thing in the morning is simply breathtaking, she has been a fool to allow herself to miss out on it in the six months they have been married.

“What time is it?” She asks, voice thick with sleep.

“The hour of the rooster.” Comes his murmured reply, as he reaches out the hand he isn’t leaning on to brush the hair from her face.

She allows her eyes to gently close at his comforting touch, basking in the graze of his fingertips against her temple. “You will be late for training.” She whispers.

“Mmm. So I shall.” He concurs, coaxing her onto her back and shifting to hover over her.

She relaxes beneath the familiar weight of him, relishing the way her husband’s body slots so perfectly against hers. Excitement flutters in her lower belly, she aches for what she knows will come next. Aemond leans down to kiss her, it is slow and decadent, yet loaded with passion, drawing a soft sigh from her as he begins to reach downwards.

Parting her thighs instinctively, her breath hitches when Aemond drags his fingers through her folds, spreading the slick that has gathered between her legs already. She thinks she may never get used to how expertly he touches her, but it is something she welcomes the surprise of.

Her fingers tangle themselves in the silkiness of his hair as he places hot, open mouthed caresses to her neck, all the while stroking unhurriedly at her centre. She whimpers, each of his ministrations causing a tautness in her belly which sets her writhing against him with unbridled desire.

“Such an eager little thing she is.” Aemond coos, almost to himself, as if he isn’t the one responsible for the state she’s in in the first place.

He pushes his breeches down just enough to free himself, and her jaw goes slack as she feels the hardness of him press against her, demanding entrance. He sinks in slowly, a groan rumbling deep within his throat as he stretches her inch by inch, the sensation is almost maddening for her, too much and yet not enough all at the same time.

His lips seek hers once more once he is fully sheathed within, the plushness of them against her own has her rapidly beginning to buck her hips against his, desperate for friction.

“Paerī.” He commands softly, his large hands enveloping her hips and holding her in place. Slow down.

Aemond keeps her still as he slides himself out of her, before pushing back in, setting a glacial pace that allows her to feel everything.

There are no other sounds in the room besides their intermingled heavy breaths and the wet drag of his length in her cunny. He is never this gentle with her, and she savours the intensity of his eye contact, the way he pushes her into the mattress but doesn’t rut mercilessly into her.

Each stroke knocks against a spot within her that has her toes curling and a pressure building in her belly. She tenses, clenching around Aemond, causing him to inhale sharply and his pace to falter.

“Peak for me, ābrazȳrītsos.” He urges. “I know you’re close.” Little wife.

Snaking a hand between their bodies, he strokes insistently at her pearl with his thumb and she knows she is done for. The pressure reaches its precipice, bubbling over into white hot waves of ecstasy that ripple from the top of her head all the way down to her toes, as she clenches ceaselessly around Aemond. He follows her shortly afterwards, stilling with a groan and pulsating inside of her with his release.

She holds him close, breathless and dazed in the wake of her climax, until she is recovered enough to speak.

“You are definitely late now.” She says with a smile.

Aemond smiles against the flesh of her shoulder. “Then it is a good job I have found a better way to spend my morning.”

[lunarfleur]

Blank Minds ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Summary: “I can’t do this.” “It’s not hard, you just need to-” “No. I can’t do it because every time I look at you my mind goes blank.”

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans

@ivys-graveyard @kombuuuu @n1cole-ghost @luvjunie @milesmolasses

Warnings:Cursing and a little bit of grabbing

This is x gender neutral reader!

“All you have to do is isolate the variable, baby.”

You and Miles laid on his bed, your laptop in front of the both of you. You had your notebook and a pencil, as well. Miles’s hands stayed in front of his chest, but he was close enough to you so his shoulder was touching your’s.

“There’s more than one variable.”

“Yeah, but you’re isolating y from the rest of them. It’s just like a normal equation, just without numbers.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t understand what he was saying. Truthfully, you did. He made sense. But he was so close. He smelled so good. His skin was so warm. You placed your head in your head, turning it to look at him. Fuck.

He was so beautiful. His eyes, a chocolate brown color, were speckled with green. His skin, dark and smooth, was covered in pretty freckles. His jawline was strong, his cheekbones a warmer hue compared to the rest of his face. His eyelashes were long and pretty. His nose sat perfectly against his face. His body was skinny, yet fit. His muscles were toned.

“What?”

“I can’t do this,” you sighed.

“It’s not hard, you just need to-”

“No. I can’t do it because every time I look at you my mind goes blank.”

Miles stared at you, smirking.

“That’s adorable,” he laughed. “You’re adorable.”

Miles leaned closer, his hand finding your’s. He squeezed it tightly while his lips touched your own. The kiss was sweet and gentle, but deep. Miles pulled away, then went right back in for another. You sat up, hands finding the sides of his face. Miles pulled you into him.

“We should be studying,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Shut up.” Miles was warm and relaxed with you, gentle with his every move. You pulled away, gasping for air.

“You good?” He asked. You nodded, humming.

You pulled him closer, putting your arms over his shoulders. His hands trailed over your body, caressing you.

“Miles,” you gasped.

He hummed in response, but didn’t really care.

“Watch your hands.”

[ask-warmer-hues]

Fozzer this is a very important question; do you know what a dilf is?

She_has_been_laughing_at_me_for_the_last_hour,_ but_has_not_been_saying_a_word.

Please_enlighten_me.

[diwatopia]

★ melt ; hobie.

synopsis. the love hobie has for you is eternal.

info. fluff, hobie brown x gn!reader, 481 words.

warnings. words of affirmation (?), kissing, physical touch, couple uses of y/n, grammatical errors :P

the giggle that wisps past your lips is pure happiness to hobie.

the way your eyes crinkle when you smile your goofy, toothy grin. or how your eyebrows knit together when you're attempting to understand a joke. or the way you curl into yourself when laughing, clutching your chest as if it would help the chuckles die down.

you look so unbelievably pretty under the moonlight, eyes twinkling as the stars reflect in them. the way your laughter continues to float around in the night sky, echoing into his ears as a constant reminder of how beautiful you are.

it honestly doesn't surprise him, you're the epitome of perfect and as he continues to watch you underneath the moonlight, he can't help but helplessly gaze at you.

he silently watches you, listening intently to all the things you have to say because everything that puffs past your lips is too important for him to ignore.

"bee?" you're voice is soft like satin, eyes still holding that twinkle. he cracks a smile at your crooked grin, head tilting sideways as if silently asking what was wrong. "everything okay?".

he nods once, twice.

"what's going on in that head of yours?" you ask.

hobie shrugs, "you're beautiful, y'know that?".

his words are warmer than a cup of sweet black tea, and from the sound of it, it seems as if he was holding that in for quite sometime. your eyes grow wide alongside your smile. he smiles at the way you trip over your words, all twenty-six letters of the alphabet nowhere to be seen as you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water.

"w- well i — thank you, bee..." you finally say, bumping your shoulder into his as that all to familiar giddy feeling begins to wrap itself around your body like a warm blanket on a chilly night.

it takes you a second to collect your bearings, cheeks flushed a beautiful strawberry hue as you glance around the night sky. your heart is thumping against your chest at an animalistic pace as if you ran a marathon, your face hot.

"you're beautiful too," you whisper out into the night sky. hobie hums, scooting closer to you so your shoulders and knees were touching.

"so, so beautiful, bee. everything about you is —"

"perfect?" he finishes your sentence, easily catching your attention. you take a hard look at him, drinking in his features as you slowly nod. the two of you gaze into each other's eyes before you burst out laughing.

"yeah, i tend to have that effect on people" you joke around, placing your head upon his shoulder, wrapping both your arms around one of his lanky ones. "you're lucky i love ya', you geezer" he mutters, placing a kiss to the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.

"yeah, yeah. i love you too."

⋆ ˚｡ ���୧ reblogs / feedback are highly appreciated. thank you!

★ diwa's notes. lets hope this one gets more than 5 notes bc the last time was so unbelievably embarrassing (but also bc i was shadowbanned bc tumblr hates me)

© ilupearls 2023.

[ddejavvu]

i think hotch has a thing for freshly manicured nails. fucking LOVES when you get your nails done. walks by your desk, stops, grabs your hand and says "this is a beautiful color on you honey" before kissing your hand and going up to his office. loves it when you get matte brown nails but loves it even more when you get a shiny blood red manicure. cant stop picturing those pretty fingers pumping his thick cock. and how pretty your nails match your lipstick?? loves seeing those lipstick smears all over him. drives him insane. he slips you a $50 with a note saying "pink" or "blue" every week. LOVES that you always get whatever color he asks for. starts getting you dresses and skirts n stuff that match your nails. he thinks your square nails look prettiest but your pointed nails dig into his back in the most delicious way. no matter what really aaron is going to bust a nut over your pretty nails

this post is 18+, minors dni.

mmm the sugar daddy vibes that this gives off. doesn't matter that you're his girlfriend/wife and not his sugar baby, just bc the purpose of your relationship isn't money doesn't mean he doesn't shower you with it <3 he really likes holding your hand ofc, and even more than that he loves rubbing his hand over your nails, 'cause it feels nice over the pads of his fingers when there's smooth gel there instead of slightly rough nail. you're like his little stress toy :')

but absolutely is drawn to certain colors!! sometimes it depends on the seasons, he'll do warmer colors for autumn and lots of greens/pinks/blues for spring, but mostly it's just whatever mood he's in, matching whatever set of lingerie he wants to see you in this week. absolutely fucking loves when you match your makeup and especially lipstick to the color of your nails, or vice versa, and yes he loooves when you sit there and do some body worship for him, kissing all over his thighs and stomach and chest and cock <333 cover him in kiss marks while squeezing his thighs with your nails, he's begging u

no bc once he realizes he can formally request a nail color from you... sometimes he just venmos you the money, or transfers it into your account and texts you, but you really really loooove when he does it physically :') he'll bring you coffee in the morning and leave the cash/note tucked into the cup sleeve, or he'll whisk you away to the kitchen and murmur whatever color he wants against your lips while he tucks the cash in your back pocket <3333

most of his daydreams have to do with your hands (and matching mouth) all over his cock. he just can't stop picturing your hands everywhere on him, those nails scraping over his skin and those lips matching their hue, leaving stains behind for him to remember <3

[celestinqs]

[ 06:35 ]

✿ synopsis: in which you interrupt your boyfriend’s morning routine. ✿ pairing: boyfriend! yoon jeonghan x fem! reader ✿ word count: 847 ✿ warnings: suggestive, implied sex, kissing, lowercase intended. . .( let me know if i missed anything ) minors dni! ✿ author's note: hi lovelies, this is my first posted work, so i cannot promise that it is good, but i hope that you enjoy reading! feedback is appreciated. love, lina !

the room was enveloped in a soft, dim glow, as the light from the connected bathroom delicately illuminated your complexion. jeonghan, attempting to minimize any noise or disturbance, switched on the light with careful movements. however, the flowing sounds of sink water as he began brushing his teeth abruptly pulled you into a state of consciousness. slowly opening your eyes, you were greeted by the gentle hue cast by the bathroom light, feeling a sense of confusion as you wondered where your boyfriend had disappeared to.

in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, jeonghan observed as you stirred awake, your face displaying a mix of bewilderment. "good morning, pretty girl," he mumbled, gaining your attention, toothbrush still in his mouth.

the name "pretty girl" awoke something inside of you. "you know you can’t say stuff like that to me when i first wake up." you groaned, until your eyes met him through the mirror, causing your heart to skip a beat again upon seeing your boyfriend's appearance. suddenly feeling embarrassed as you realized jeonghan had witnessed your face reddening, you swiftly turned away, burying your blushing expression beneath the comforter. your cheeks grew even warmer as you heard jeonghan's gentle laughter, prompting you to peek out from under the covers and find him watching you, a fond smile adorning his face.

your boyfriend had always been handsome, a fact acknowledged by everyone, himself included. but there was something about his appearance in the early morning that stirred indescribable feelings within you, emotions you were too bashful to confess. he looked angelic amidst the soft morning light, with his hair messily falling over his eyes. his sleepy gaze, still heavy with slumber, seemed to sparkle when he smiled. your heart fluttered every time you witnessed him like this.

jeonghan watched your reaction to the pet name in the reflection of the mirror. "stuff like what'?" he asked, knowing exactly what you were referring to, but he enjoyed the reaction that it gave you, thus he chuckled softly in amusement, finishing up his morning bathroom routine before approaching your side of the bed. crouching in front of you, he absentmindedly brushed his fingertips up and down your exposed arm, gently reminding you of his presence.

pulling the comforter from over your face, you turned back to face him, a pout taking over your expression. "jeonghannnnn..." you whined, a playful grin forming on his face.

"what's wrong?" he knew exactly what was bothering you, but he wanted you to admit it.

"can you give your girlfriend just five minutes?" you watched as his expression changed, contemplating his next move. "please?" you mirrored his movements, trailing your fingertips up and down his arm. he shivered in pleasure at your touch, and a warmth spread through your body as you observed his reaction.

"five minutes is never just five minutes."

"...and whose fault is that?" you quirked an eyebrow at him. “it’s not my fault that you always tease me.”

"you know i want this just as much as you do, but i have to be at practice in..." he tapped your phone screen on the nightstand next to him, checking the time displayed, "... twenty-five minutes."

"but it's saturday..." impatience took over as you became more handsy, your fingertips trailing from his arm down his chest, and under his shirt. he jolted a bit, your cold fingertips shocking his skin. 

he gently grabbed your wrist in an attempt to stop you. "...and i have a comeback in two weeks." jeonghan also longed to cast aside his excuses. he desired to give in just as much as you did. "you know how hoshi and dino are; they won't accept anything less than perfection."

"fine, go to your practice." you eventually surrendered, groaning and turning away from him. "thankfully, i have other ways to satisfy myself."

you knew that jeonghan would not take that well. your response struck a chord within him. fortunately for you, jeonghan found it incredibly difficult to resist your desires, especially when what you desired was him.

"fine. five minutes," he relented, attempting to nudge you over to his side of the bed so he could get in beside you. taking you into his embrace, he peppered kisses along your face.

"that's all i was asking for," a smile spread across your face as you finally got what you desired. it always seemed to work out that way with jeonghan. it was simple: he couldn't resist you.

"you're insatiable, you know that, right?" he teased, and as he began to nip at your neck, a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"and yet, you still love me." you didn't resist as he shifted his position, hovering over you, a proud smirk adorning his features. he then leaned in to kiss you softly, but you pulled back before he caught your lips, "no kissing though. i haven't brushed my teeth yet. my breath probably smells."

"i don't care if your breath smells like death; just kiss me," he declared.

"how romantic," you muttered, teasingly, leaning in to meet his lips. 

@celestinqs - all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any sort will not be tolerated.

[yuellii]

could you maybe write something with zima/зима :3? i loved your writings with neuvilette!!!!

“ Now... now I'm going out for a walk... The moonlight is... beautiful... It's good for writing... Maybe... you should try to write a poem too. ” — zima / gn reader

There’s a particular silence in the air in which you have yet to get accustomed to; but for Zima, it was his comfortably preferred state of existence.

He does not speak a word to you in the middle of this cold expanse, the top of his cheeks a snowy pink hue as the bottom half of his face is buried warm under the top of his coat. This old, stone bridge was icy, yet it was glimmering under the brilliant moonlight. A mere simplicity his eyes followed—from the cracks of stone to the sightless ocean, from the ocean to the cloudless sky, and from the sky to the lonely moon. A serenity that encompassed nature; also only a serenity that encompassed you.

You, who encompassed his blanking mind of ethereal solace no poet could ever portray.

Due to his nature of silence, though it does not register to him—perhaps it does not occur to you how lines and lines of the prettiest sentences form in his head just at the sight of you, nor the penmanship inking the inner folds of his sleeves. They were stained with all the words he can think of to describe you, and all the rhyming lines that rivaled you to the royalty and to the heavens. He was quite dramatic at heart… But you didn’t need to know that.

No, not when he can barely form words around you. Not when sometimes, he has too many words to say and he cannot speak a single one of them. Not when you cloud his thoughts with foreign phrases—so admirably, and so helplessly lovestruck in analogy—he can’t even begin to try and translate to English. And so he keeps his mouth shut under his coat, choosing a silence he knows so well.

He sees you stop at the top of the bridge from his peripherals, halting in his steps to join as you stare out into the moonlit ocean. You were just as cold as he was—he could see it in the crinkle of your eyes; but when your head leans to rest on his arm, there’s a beating of his heart that makes him feel warmer than a fire.

“Are you cold?” you ask, gently like the brushing waves below.

“…No.”

It’s so artful, painfully woven like ribbon around his eyes, like he’s blinded by your brilliance in rivalry to the moon. Any poet would kill for a muse like you.

Yet, he still can’t find the words.

Maybe one day, he’ll be able to ink something. Maybe one day, his pen will be able to form something as beautiful as you are. But for now, in this present moment ( from the moon, to the stars, to the ocean, and to the ever-gleaming ice framing perfectly around the Earth ), even all nature were utterly minuscule to the way he thought of you.

🕰️ ;; thankyew anon for liking all my neuvillette fics because i hope they are clear to show how absolutely deranged and delusional i am over him ( insanity )

[avatartophblindbanditbeifong]

Miles Morales x Reader Summertime Headcanons

1610!Miles Morales x Reader

617 words

Summary: a window into your relationship with Miles during the summer months.

At the end of June, school is out. You and Miles rid yourselves of your uniform pants, skirts, and blazers in favor of jorts and tank tops as the weather starts to get warmer in the city. The end of June is Miles’s favorite time of year for a plethora of reasons. The end of June means no more school; the end of June means sleeping in; and most importantly, the end of June means spending more time with you. Miles made an itinerary for summer break titled ‘MILES & Y/N’s SUPER AWESOME SUMMER CHECKLIST ‘23,' written in his signature graffiti calligraphy and bubble letters in his sketchbook.

"Miles, skydiving? Are you forreal?"

"Okay, I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out!"

And he intended to follow through with each and every single activity on the list.

In mid-July, you go on vacation out of state with your family, much to Miles’ dismay. "This is going against the itinerary!" He jested while passing you a t-shirt for you to pack into your suitcase. To ease his yearning for you during your time away, Miles resorted to spending hours upon hours on the phone with you. Day and night. No exceptions. He's fighting the villain of the week? Miles is throwing punches with one hand and talking to you with his phone in the other. You didn’t even need to be having a conversation; he just wanted to see your face on his screen. The calls would last into the later hours of the night and into the early morning, with both of you slurring incoherent sentences to each other, promising that you wouldn't fall asleep.

In early August, Miles turns a year older, and you, Rio, and Jeff plan a surprise party for him. A few weeks before, you asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. He said, "I don't know; I haven't really thought about it." To which you replied, "Well… do you want to celebrate?" To which he responded, "Are you going to be there?" That was enough for you to go to his parents and start plotting a little party for Miles behind his back. When Miles’s birthday rolled around, you had Ganke distract him for the day while you and his parents decorated the apartment. When Miles got home, it was empty and dark. He called out to his parents to no avail until he got to the dining room. Suddenly, the lights were on, confetti was snowing around him, and you and his parents appeared. It was a nice surprise. Although it wasn’t really a surprise because he knew the whole time, his spidey senses told him. But he wasn't going to ruin the happiness it brought the three most important people in his life to do something special for him.

In September, the days begin to cool down as summer turns to autumn and school starts up again. You and Miles are in his room, basking in your last moments of solitude together before busy schedules pull you in different directions. You were on his bed with your back against the headboard while the weight of Miles’s head on your shoulder was ever present. The atmosphere of the room was tranquil. The melodies of the songs off of the summer playlist you had curated together swirl around the four decorative walls of his room. The feather-light touch of your fingers carding through Miles’s curls nearly lulled him to sleep as you mindlessly stared out of the bay windows of his room, admiring the way the sun cast its hues of yellow, pink, and light blue off of the window pane from the apartments across the street.

[bro-atz]

the best friend — wooyoung/gn!reader drabble wc: 918 | genre: suggestive | @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols net: @cromernet

You didn’t know a damn thing. Seriously. One second, you’re sitting on a couch with a glass of wine in your hand and taking the occasional sip while talking to your best friend about your day, and the next, you’re flirting with your best friend— well, he’s flirting with you, and you're trying your damn best to keep it together.

The two of you flirted on a regular basis as a joke, but there was something about the look in his eye today that made you wonder if he was even joking anymore. As twilight painted the city skyline in hues of indigo and amber, you settled onto Wooyoung’s plush couch, your favorite throw blanket of his resting on your legs, and questions of doubt resting dormant in your head.

What you didn’t know was that Wooyoung was tired of lying to himself and you. He had feelings for you. Plain and simple. And he wanted to confess. He wanted to confess that the flickering lights of the city below casting a warm glow on your features, highlighting the sparkle in your eyes and the soft curve of your lips was making his heart flutter.

The two of you started talking about the mundane: how your day went, what your plans for the weekend were, if you saw what Mingi posted the other day, so on and so forth. At some point, Wooyoung started spacing out. He was spacing out because he was thinking about how to make his next move, but you didn’t know that. Not yet, for that matter.

“Tired?” you asked, your hushed voice pulling him out of his trance.

“No. Never,” he replied. He brought his gaze to meet yours, then lowered and lingered his line of sight on the delicate slope of your neck. “Not when you’re here.”

Your heart raced. Usually, a cheeky smile would pop up on Wooyoung’s face after a suave line like that, but not this time. His eyes were serious, and the smile on his face was genuine.

“You know,” you said as you cleared your throat, trying to make sense of the situation. “I never noticed how comfortable this couch is…”

“Yeah? I can make it cozier for you.”

He shifted closer to you, moving your legs so he could get so close that you felt your butt rest against his thigh. The two of you had sat like that thousands of times in the past, and not once was it sexually charged until that night. Everything from his fingers brushing up your calf to his palm resting on your knee made your body get warmer and warmer.

“H-hey, what’s going on with you? How much did you have to drink?” you offered a light laugh and tried to push his shoulder away, but instead he grabbed your arm.

Wooyoung got even closer to you as he said with his voice at a low volume, “I only had one glass of wine, Y/N… And everything is okay.”

You shivered hearing Wooyoung’s voice hit a register that low. Your eyes went wide when his fingers tiptoed around your waist and under your shirt to caress the small of your back. He let go of your arm, placing it so your hand would rest on his shoulder.

“Are you sure?” you breathed out, wondering both about him and the situation the two of you suddenly were in.

“I’ve been sure for a while now.”

Your heart pounded against your chest as you felt the air between you two charged with anticipation and desire thicken at an exponential rate. “Wooyoung…” you breathed, your voice a soft plea.

Wooyoung couldn’t hold back any longer. He cupped your face in his hands, leaned in, and brushed his lips against yours in a featherlight touch— a whisper of a kiss, mingling of warmth and longing, a question posed without words.

You responded with a sigh as your body melted against his, your hand moving from his shoulder to the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair. The kisses started small, light little smooches that were soon replaced by deep kisses that made your breaths mingle, the passion behind them igniting a raging fire within.

The more he kissed you, the more you could taste the slight bitterness of his merlot, the flavor of black cherries drawing you into him more and more, savoring the sensation of his soft lips molded against yours.

Wooyoung’s hands moved to wrap around you, his fingernail tracing along the delicate curve of your spine and his fingers grazing your waist as he pushed them up your shirt. You gasped and pulled him in closer, your own hands gripping at the fabric of his shirt

The acidity of the wine washed away the boundaries of your friendship with the man; yet, you didn’t care. You didn’t care about what became of your friendship with him when this, his sensuality, his drive was so extremely desirable that if you didn’t have him right then and there, you would probably seize to exist.

As you clung to him, your soft whimpers fueling his passion, your every touch burning right through the layers of his clothes, he knew that there was no turning back, no denying the irresistible lust and desire for you that had taken root in the depths of his heart. Yet, he had to ask.

“And you?” Wooyoung asked you breathlessly in between the chain of kisses.

“I’ve been sure for a while now, too.”

[sleepyxxhead]

༉‧₊˚. flufftober 2023!!

WEEK 2: Grumpy!Megumi x Sunshine!Reader

CONTENT: fem!reader, light swearing, established relationship

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

CHARACTERS: Fushiguro Megumi x fem!reader

NOTES: this one was definitely a shorter one! soz :(

Throughout your relationship with Megumi, you two had both learned to enjoy each other’s company in many different ways. Whether it be a memory to enjoy with others, laughing and having a fun time; or maybe a moment of silence between the two of you, just basking in each other’s presence; and of course, the more intimate moments the two of you shared, getting close and comfy together. 

As autumn began to settle, the days became cooler, leaves of gold and red hues scattered across the ground. Today was one of the last warmer days of the season. You and Megumi walked side-by-side through your local park, leaves crunching under your boots as a small breeze blew across your face. Your pinky was hooked with Megumi’s, swinging your arms back and forth like a child. You wore one of Megumi’s sweatshirts, cradling a small blanket in your arms. Megumi held a picnic basket in his free hand, filled with all of the food you had packed for your picnic date. 

When you found an open spot on the grass, you spread the blanket out and unpacked the food that you and Megumi had prepared before walking to the park: two bentos, some sandwiches, some onigiri, and some cut fruit. As you sat down on the blanket, you opened your bento, breathing in the crisp autumn air. Megumi sat down beside you, grabbing his own bento. After a few bites, you leaned your head against his shoulder, sighing contentedly.

“Yooo! Fushiguro! L/N!” 

You turned around to see Itadori, Kugisaki, and Gojo approaching you. You gave them a small wave as Megumi sighed out of annoyance.

“We finally found you two love birds~!” Gojo-sensei sang, wrapping his arms around you two.

“Why are you here?” Megumi asked, clearly irritated.

“We wanted to hang out with you guys, of course!” Yuji exclaimed as he passed Nobara a sandwich, trying to find something in the basket for him to eat.

Megumi rolled his eyes, watching them rummage through the food. You rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb, looking at him with a small smile on your face. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled quietly.

“For what?”

“Our date’s ruined,” he stated as if it was obvious.

“What? I don’t think our date’s ruined,” you commented. “We can have some more time to ourselves later!”

You gave him a big smile, to which his eyes softened, turning back to his friends. You leaned your head back on his shoulder as you watched your friends and your teacher now fighting over who should get which onigiri.

“No, I want the tuna mayo one!” Yuji whined, holding the rice ball to his chest protectively.

“Come one, Itadori! Be a gentleman and give it here!” Nobara yelled, trying to grab the rice ball.

“But your sensei always works so hard to teach you all! I think I should get the tuna mayo!” Gojo whined, sounding even more childish than the students half his age.

As Megumi sat down in the chair across from you, you opened your book, ready for a quiet library date with him. 

The two of you had made library dates a weekly occurrence, hoping to find some peace in the chaos that made up your lives as sorcerers. 

As you read on, you kicked your feet a little, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate that Megumi had bought for you on your way to the library. The liquid’s warmth spread throughout your body, extending to your fingers and your nose, almost making you feel drowsy.

The silence between you and your boyfriend was comforting, so pleasant after a week filled with training and fighting cursed spirits. 

After a couple hours however, your hot chocolate wasn’t nearly as hot anymore, the silence between Megumi and you felt deafening, and you couldn’t read through a paragraph without having to read it 5 times over. Your eyelids felt heavy as you lightly kicked Megumi’s foot, signalling for his attention.

His eyes shot up to meet your gaze, finding you in your tired state.

“‘Wanna go home ‘gumi…” you yawned, rubbing your eyes.

Without saying a word, Megumi closed his book as well as yours, stowing them away in his backpack. 

As you stood up, you stretched your legs and arms out. You felt sore all around your body for sitting down in a strained position for so long.

Grabbing your bag and his, Megumi hooked his pinky with yours before heading home.

Tonight was finally Friday night, a night when you and Megumi rarely had anything to do but to spend time with each other in your dorms. 

“There you go!” you beamed as you smoothed a face mask over Megumi’s skin. He was wearing a fluffy headband to match yours as well as a pair of bunny slippers you had bought for him. 

Despite doing this with you every week, Megumi made a weird face at the uncomfortable feeling of the mask on his face.

You giggled, as you snuggled up next to him, turning on a K-Drama to watch together.

“This guy is so stupid, he needs to confess to her already!” you groaned at the end of the episode. “Anyway, it’s time to take of our face masks!”

As you peeled away your face mask, you rubbed the extra serum into your face, doing the same for Megumi. “You’re such a pretty boy,” you mumbled with a smile.

Megumi blushed at your words, looking away. You laughed at his shyness, pressing play on the next episode.

Snuggling back into his side, you continued to complain about how you were getting impatient with the love interest. “It’s been like, 12 episodes now!”

Megumi listened while he brushed his fingers through your hair, giving your head light scratches. You didn’t even notice until half an episode later that he had fallen asleep.

You exhaled through your nose, a small smile creeping up on your face. You took his headband off and pulled the covers over the two of you. After closing the lid of your laptop, you tossed it to the side and gave your boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek.

“G’night Megs…” you mumbled into his neck before the sound of his steady breathe and the warmth of his skin lulled you to sleep.

BONUS:

“Yuji! Come look at this!” you heard Nobara whisper as you started to wake up.

“Whatwhatwhat!”

A camera shuttered as you started to open your eyes. “...What time is it?” you mumbled sleepily, raising your head.

“Oh shit! Shit!” Yuji whisper-yelled before hurriedly shutting the door.

“...hm?” Megumi groaned, shifting beneath you. “Y/N?”

“It’s nothing Megs, go back to sleep.”

NOTES: fjdksal;fjskda this one was so late oml

anyways have a nice day cutie <33

dividers: @cafekitsune

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