#young reader

[millermouth]

Daryl Dixon x Reader

tp!daryl x young reader, young Daryl Dixon, pre apocalypse, fluff

warnings: none except Daryl is kind of an ass at first

The night air hung thick and humid, clinging to the inside of Daryl’s truck. Crickets chirped faintly in the distance, their rhythm competing with the faint rattle of the truck’s idling engine. He leaned his chin on his hand, fingers scratching idly at his scruff as he stared at the empty stretch of road ahead.

“Goodnight,” the girl said, her voice pitched just a little too sweet, teetering on the edge of something expectant. Hopeful.

Her name was… Tessa? No, Tanya. Maybe. Wait, Tina? Hell, he couldn’t remember anymore. Not that it mattered.

“Night,” he muttered, the word coming out low, almost like an afterthought.

Still waiting. Still expectant.

Daryl’s jaw tightened, but his gaze didn’t waver from the road. He let the silence stretch between them, filling the cab like the humid summer air, heavy and suffocating. Daryl exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Why wasn’t she leaving?

She adjusted her purse on her lap, the clink of the metal clasp annoyingly loud in the quiet cab. He didn’t look at her, didn’t give her the satisfaction of meeting her eyes. Maybe if he stayed still long enough, she’d take the hint.

“You sure you don’t wanna come in?” she asked, her voice soft, but with an edge of insistence that grated against his nerves.

His eyes flicked to her, just briefly, before settling back on the road. “Nah,” he said, voice flat, as though the single syllable could put an end to the conversation.

She stayed there, unmoving, her nails tapping against her purse now, a nervous little rhythm that set his teeth on edge.

“Alright,” she said finally, though her tone carried more disappointment than acceptance. She shifted, one hand reaching for the door handle, but she didn’t open it. Instead, she paused, turning back to him. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

Daryl huffed, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Ain’t got much to say.”

That clearly wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Her face fell, the sweetness in her expression fading into something colder.

“Well, thanks for the ride, I guess,” she said, her words clipped now. She shoved the door open, stepping out onto the gravel driveway with a sharp click of her heels.

“Yeah,” he grunted, already reaching to shift the truck into gear. He didn't let her get another word in, already backing out of her driveway onto the road, eager to get away.

The road stretched ahead of him, endless and empty, the faint glow of the late night store's neon signs flashing by him through town. He turned the radio on, letting the static fill the cab before switching it off again. He was on edge.

It was late—closer to midnight than not—and he wasn’t sure where he was headed. He just knew he couldn’t go back to the trailer yet, not with Merle’s drunken yelling waiting for him. He needed space, air, something to quiet the restless energy clawing at his chest.

Before he realized it, his truck was pulling onto your street.

---

The sound of tires crunching over gravel pulled your attention from the book in your lap. You glanced up from the porch steps, squinting as headlights washed over you, the faint rumble of an old truck engine breaking the quiet of the night.

You didn’t have to see who it was to know.

The truck rolled to a stop, the engine idling as the driver’s side door creaked open. Daryl climbed out, his boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as he looked at you.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked finally, his voice low and rough.

You shrugged, closing the book and setting it aside. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

His lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Figured you might wanna get outta here for a bit.”

You raised a brow, tilting your head at him. “What, and ride around in that death trap of yours?”

He snorted, shaking his head as he turned back toward the truck. “C’mon. Ain’t gonna ask twice.”

You didn’t hesitate, grabbing your jacket from the porch and jogging down the steps. The cab smelled faintly of gasoline and old leather as you slid into the passenger seat, the bench warm from where someone might've been sitting earlier.

“Where we goin’?” you asked, buckling your seatbelt as he shifted into gear.

“Dunno. wanna stop at Sevs?” he muttered, his eyes on the road as the truck rattled to life.

--

The neon lights of the 7-Eleven cast a hazy glow over the parking lot, the hum of the buzzing sign filling the quiet as the two of you pushed open the glass door.

You bee-lined for the slurpees, the bright red syrup swirling into a cup as you filled it to the brim. Daryl followed behind, snagging a pack of jerky and a bag of chips before nodding toward the counter.

“Let’s go,” he said, jerking his chin toward the door.

The truck cab was quiet as you climbed back inside, the faint crinkle of the jerky bag filling the space as Daryl tore it open. You leaned back against the seat, sipping your slurpee as the engine purred beneath you.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an edge to it—like something unsaid was lingering in the air. You drove for awhile like that, listening to music, aimlessly turning down different roads in the quiet night. The truck rolled to a stop at a red light, its glow casting the cab in deep crimson. The roads were empty, no one else around this late. The hum of the engine filled the silence, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

“How was your date?” you asked finally, your voice casual as you stared out the windshield. The question had been boggling your mind since you got in the truck with him earlier.

Daryl froze for half a second, his fingers tightening around the jerky bag before he scoffed. “Pfft...Borin’.”

A flicker of something you couldn’t name stirred in your chest, but you kept your expression neutral, snuffing the feeling out and taking another sip of your slurpee.

“Did you talk to her, or did you just grunt the whole time?” you teased, turning to glance at him.

His eyes rolled, the movement slow and deliberate, the red light casting his dark blue irises in shadow. “’Course I talked to ‘er.”

“Hi and bye don’t count,” you said, a small laugh escaping despite yourself.

His lips twitched again, the faintest hint of a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “I talked to ‘er, alright?” he repeated, the words low, rough, almost playful.

You leaned back against the seat, the slurpee cup cool against your hands as you studied him. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the traffic light ahead like it held some kind of answer.

“Guess she wasn’t your type,” you said softly, the words barely above a murmur.

Daryl’s hand stilled, his fingers curling against the wheel as he finally turned to look at you. His expression was unreadable at first, but there was something simmering beneath the surface—something that made your heart stutter.

“Nah,” he said, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges. “She wasn’t.”

The air between you shifted, thickened, and you suddenly became hyper-aware of how close you were in the cramped cab. The light remained red, casting its glow over his face, highlighting the faint scruff along his jaw and the way his lips pressed together like he was holding something back.

Your pulse quickened as his eyes lingered on yours, the weight of his gaze making it hard to breathe. “What?” you asked, your voice softer, unsure.

---

The moment your eyes flicked toward him, framed by the crimson glow of the light, Daryl felt like his chest might cave in. He’d been fighting it for too long—the way you got under his skin, the way every word you said felt like it meant something, even when it shouldn’t.

But now, sitting in the truck, roads empty around him, it was like the world had narrowed to just you. The way you were looking at him, quiet, expectant—he couldn’t take it. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t desperate, but it hit him all at once. If he didn’t do something now, he might never get the chance.

His throat felt tight, his hands itching where they gripped the wheel. He wasn’t sure what was going through his head—if it was bold or just plain stupid—but it didn’t matter. Not now. Not when you were this close.

His hand moved first, almost of its own accord, coming up to cup your cheek. Rough and calloused, his thumb brushed over your skin, and the softness of it nearly undid him. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t flinch. You just… stayed. Watching him. Waiting for him.

Now or never.

His lips met yours, soft at first, just barely there, like he was trying to figure out if he was even allowed to do this. Every nerve in his body screamed to hold back, to keep it slow, but it was impossible—not when you leaned into him, not when your lips parted against his like you’d been waiting just as long as he had.

This was what he wanted.

The thought hit him hard, rattling around his head like a loose screw. It wasn’t just the kiss—not the heat of your lips against his or the way your hand found his shoulder, fingers curling into his shirt like you couldn’t let go. It was all of it. You. The way you fit here beside him, the way you always knew what to say, even when it pissed him off. The way you made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t some broken-down mess of a kid.

His grip tightened as the kiss deepened, his other hand finding your jaw, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. He’d waited too long for this, longer than he wanted to admit, and now that it was happening, he didn’t know how to stop.

He pulled back for a breath, his eyes scanning you. He couldn’t look away, not now, not ever. His heart slammed against his ribs, and his voice came out low, rough, as he whispered, “Ain’t no one like ya.”

The words weren’t planned, but they felt right, felt true in a way that made his chest ache. His thumb traced the corner of your lips, lingering, memorizing. He was certain now.

Before he could say anything else, you surged forward, your hands threading into his hair and pulling him closer. The heat of you pressed against him, the way your lips moved against his—like you’d been holding back too, like this was something you needed as much as he did.

He groaned softly, the sound low and guttural, and it only made you pull him closer. His hands moved to your waist, gripping firmly, grounding himself in the feel of you. It was frantic now, messy, but he couldn’t care less. You were here, in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

The kiss deepened again, hungrier now, more desperate. His hand slipped under the edge of your jacket, his fingers pressing into the small of your back like he was trying to pull you even closer. He couldn’t get enough—didn’t know if he ever would.

And then the horn blared.

The sharp, jarring sound ripped him out of the moment, and he jerked back, panting, his mind struggling to catch up. The light had turned green, and the car behind him was blaring their horn like their life depended on it.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff as he turned back to the wheel. He slammed his hand against it, leaning out the window to yell, “I’m goin’, alright?!” His middle finger shot up for good measure, and he hit the gas, the truck lurching forward.

His chest still heaved as he gripped the wheel tightly, the tension in the cab almost unbearable. You laughed softly, the sound breathless and light, and it made his ears burn. He glanced at you, his lips quirking just slightly, though his grip on the wheel remained firm.

The road stretched out ahead, but something between you had changed. He could feel it in the air, in the way his heart refused to settle, in the way he could still taste you on his lips.

[gatitties]

(I apologize if the English is bad, I'm using Google translate)

Can you do a headcanon of what it would be like to be Whitebeard's daughter? Like, what would the crew be like taking care of a child , how would they organize themselves and how would they react when she got her first period?

It's okay if you don't want to do it and I apologize if this broke any rules about what you can order!

—Whitebeard x young!fem!reader (platonic)

—Summary: No one ever said that hormonal changes were easy to deal with, and now you understand.

—Warnings: none

nah its ok! you did all good dear <3

—Whitebeard took you under his wing when you were barely a child who couldn't walk more than four steps without stumbling, when you could barely babble meaningless and mispronounced words.

—He considered you his own child, just like everyone else who lived under his pirate flag, but of course, he took extra special care of you.

—You were the most precious and adorable member of the crew. His personal nurses adored you when you made that angry face when they are trying to put you away from your father's embrace, his lap and chest made for a very comforting bed, more than your actual one.

—To expend all the energy a child could have, you always had Ace and Thatch, they'd drag you into almost every argument so you'd choose who was right, even though you never understood what the hell they were talking about; you were only there for the drama.

—While Marco and Izo duo was more your comfort, the people you stayed calm with, you usually turned to Marco if you couldn't fall asleep, just like Ace, his warm embrace lulling you to sleep pretty quickly.

—Izo took on a more educational role, in charge of giving you a basic education, teaching you to read, write... basic things a child your age needed.

—Watching you grow was beautiful... and sad, your features were still soft, but you could already do things on your own without their constant help; you no longer needed to waste energy to sleep well, private lessons weren't necessary because you were an excellent self-taught person, and you no longer threw a tantrum at being taken off your father's lap.

—You were barely entering pre-adolescence when the worst of things happened to you, perhaps a little young, but predictable, Izo had already spoken and warned you about this, but seeing and feeling it... God.

—You caused quite a stir on the ship, not because you were making a scene, but because of your sudden mood swings, you seemed to be in a constant bad mood and acting unlike your usual self, but you couldn't help feeling irritated, annoyed, confused, disgusted... it was an unexplained whirlwind of emotions dancing around you.

—It didn't take long for Izo to connect the dots when he saw how you occasionally frowned, clutching your lower stomach, as if trying to endure pangs of pain.

—He said nothing and sent Thatch to make you some tea to help with the cramps, bloating, and bad mood.

—The cook didn't take long to catch on when you barely thanked him with a grunt when he served you the tea.

—Don't be so hard on him, you're his cute little sister who he pranks Ace with from time to time, he won't be long before he bursts into tears if you're hard on him.

—Whitebeard could only smile and stroke your head when you approached him for comfort, you had visited Marco for something to calm you, but nothing soothed you more than being protected in your father's arms, resting your head against his chest (more like his belly, since almost anyone would have to climb to reach his pecs), hearing his slow, measured breathing, and the hum of his powerful voice as he spoke.

—It gave you security, made you feel at home, welcomed, and protected by all those who respected him.

—It was a temporary solution that lightened your mood, but it was only the first day, God knows how much you hate that second day of the month.

—Day on which Ace will probably notice your changing behavior, because he's always the last to know about things in general.

—He'll pat you on the head many, many times, as if he were trying to appease an untamed beast.

—He's always surprised because he never knows how you'll react, you always oscillate between melting into the affectionate touch or biting his hand.

—Although Ace is another of your great reliefs, since Marco is usually busier, Ace is a big warm blanket that you like to wrap yourself in when the discomfort is most persistent, the warmth numbs the pain and makes you sigh with relief.

—This event only serves as a reminder that you're growing up and will no longer be the little girl who could barely walk without holding hands. Oh, time, they wish they could see you grow up healthy and happy.

[luccacaca]

Co-parenting with Kakashi

pt. 2: Sleepless nights

Naruto was not Kakashis' responsibility. Not at all. They had no relations, and the only thing that connected them in any kind of way in the first place was that Naruto was the son of the man who once was Kakashis' teacher. However, when Minato asked Lord third to take care of Naruto and Hiruzen Sarutobis understanding of taking care of Naruto was passing him down to a young girl that was faintly related by clan name only, Kakashi didn't need his Sharingan to see that this wasn't a life that you could lead on your own. Even if the third Hokage sends you money every week, it is barely enough to cover the cost of Narutos meals alone. To take care of him, you had to quit being a kunoichi. You couldn't go to work, the boy was too troublesome and there were too many people in the village who had it out for him. On top of all that, came the fact that you were really just an overwhelmed 16 year old girl that harboured a little too much trauma from life as a shinobi in the anbu and that you had barely the maturity to take care of yourself properly first. Kakashi couldn't watch that without doing *something*. So then, somehow, you'd started co-parenting with your best friend. He still worked in the anbu, which meant he was earning a lot of money, and he used it to support you and Naruto. He came by every day, helped you out when you needed someone to take care of the boy, he spent time with him and he took him to his place when you just needed the world to be quiet for a bit. Many nights did he stay with the two of you, falling asleep in your apartment and putting Naruto to bed. To Naruto, it was clear, Kakashi was his father and you were his mother. You never let Kakashi leave without a thank you. No matter how often he told you there was no need to thank him, you still do because you know that without Kakashi, you would've been struggling through every single day. Before he knew it, Kakashis home was barely his own anymore as the place of his comfort had begun to shift to your apartment.

It was a snowy winters day, the streets lit dimly, the streetlight reflecting on the thick piles of snow that had gathered on every surface. Kakashi had rushed through his mission report. He was tired, drenched in sweat and blood, and dirtied down to his very flesh. He pulled out his spare key, opening the door to your place swiftly. It was already night, and you sat on the living room couch with the toddler in your lap. Naruto was fast asleep in your arms, and you looked like you were just dozing off. The book in your hand already sprawled out on the pillow next to you. But your eyes snapped open at the quiet sound of Kakashi opening the door and the floor board creaking under the weight of his shoes. It was always that one floorboard that announced everyones arrivals. You looked up at Kakashis battered and worn form, gently setting Naruto down on the couch before you slowly got up, stepping closer to him. He did not have to say anything for you to know what he needed. The silence remained undisturbed as you helped him shed his anbu vest and get out of his shoes. You pulled his long gloves off his hands, making sure the armour wouldn't clatter together loudly. You unstrapped the pack from his leg, and when all he was left in were his sweatpants and his tight shirt that resulted in his mask, you pulled him into a hug. After a long moment, you finally whispered, "Take a shower, I'll bring you some of your clothes." He nodded, and you watched him disappear behind the door of the bathroom. You busied yourself with picking out clothes from the section of your closet that he had begun to claim as his own, depositing more and more of his clothes there with every visit. When you had all, you put them in front of the door. Then you returned back to Narutos' side. Watching him sleep peacefully. You heard the door open before it shut again, noting that he had taken his clothes. Shortly after that, he emerged from the bathroom. His hair hung down in wet, messy strands that had been half heartedly rubbed dry by a towel, and his skin was still damp. He wore a black shirt and black sweatpants. The mask was gone, revealing the beauty mark just beneath his lip. You had always found that he looked so much more gentle when he wasn't wearing his mask. "No mask today again?" Your voice was but a whisper in the quiet of the room. He tilted his head a little. "It feels comfortable to be free of it for once in a while." You knew it was an indication that he felt comfortable with you like he felt with no other. He hadn't even let his closest friends back then, Rin and Obito, see his face uncovered. Only you have ever seen it.

[katcoin]

ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪʟʟꜱ

(TW: none)

.

.

.

Long ago before the city thrived on steam and metal.

.

.

Long before you or I came to be 

.

.

.

A child born of the Harbinger, the ruler of all the Heavenly court entered these lands. 

.

.

.

Though rare, the child was set aside and forgotten 

.

.

Cruely, the Gods gave them the title of the lost and wanderers. 

.

.

That child was Areti, the Deity of the lost, wanderers, and finally the youth. 

.

.

But bestowing titles was a small thing to the Gods, so the heavenly court still neglected the child.

.

.

So one day. Before the rise of the sun and set start of the setting of the moon. They ran. 

.

 Over the hills, the child escaped. Vowing to never be a part of the heavenly court. 

.

.

But there, my children, I would say the story ends, but each story has its side—its own flip of a coin. And that's where my tale starts.

.

.

When the Gods woke from their slumber, they did not notice the absence of Areti and continued on with their heavenly duties. 

.

.

But this soon will later bite them back.

.

.

Years after the child ran to the hills away from the Heavens, chaos struck. 

.

All beings young started to die off.

.

.

First, the children were struck with sickness, 

.

.

seedlings perished from the scorching sun

.

.

Animals' young perished. 

.

.

Then starvation came.

.

.

Parents were unable to conceive children. So out of despair and hopelessness, they went to the Gods. 

.

.

"What did we do to anger you so?!" The public pleaded bringing offerings to maybe coax the Gods out of their anger towards them. 

.

.

"We? Foolish mortals, we have nothing to do with your famine!" Declared the Harbinger, confused about the humans' cries. 

.

.

"Then who would hurt and curse our young?!" The humans pleaded. The Harbinger thought the gods could only tarnish the subjects that they had the title of... Areti..

.

.

"ARETI!?" Called out the Harbinger, expecting the child to be summoned right next to him with their tale between their legs. But nothing, only a bright light from the summon but nothing came up. "ARETI?! COME TO ME AT ONCE!" He called out again, another white flash, still nothing. that means they aren't in the heavenly court. When was the last time he or the other Gods have seen Areti? 

.

.

"Why must you call after the deity that you have banished?" Called out a young man. He was a storyteller, he stood up from his kneeling position like everyone else. "Have you not heard the tale of the child over the hills?" The storyteller asked. The Harbinger, hesitant but willing to know the whereabouts of the little diety beckoned the storyteller to speak. 

.

.

.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LEFT?!" An hour has passed since the humans away from the court to reassure them that he will take care of the task at hand. For the first time in forever, The Harbinger felt regret. 

.

.

"My Love, what worries you so?" Anris placed her hand on her husband's shoulder. Anris, oh great Goddess of unity and peace. The way they met was interesting speaking of how they were polar opposites, but that is a story for another time friends. 

.

.

"What happened to Areti?" Pleaded the Harbinger. But his wife didn't know either. He asked every God, Goddess, Diety he could find up in the heavenly court. Still nothing. 

.

.

The harbinger declared a search for the little deity. The rest of the heavenly court followed. But nothing...

.

.

Out of desperation, to find his child and to end the famine, he jumped down from the heavens, grabbed an anchor and pulled it down to the earths land. Now the Gods live among us in hope of searching for their child.

.

.

But that Idea soon curroded with humans evolving and cities changing, humans once independent creatures thriving without the Gods help now live at the bottom. Each living in the slums of cities begging for basic necessities. While the Gods live in luxury only getting the best. But once a year on the day that Areti fled, the Gods hold a festival hoping for one day that the child would return. And this is where you were born into the world. 

.

.

And that is where a new story begins...

.

.

𝑀𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒮𝒰𝒢𝒜𝑅 𝒞𝒰𝐵𝐸!

[atlasscrumpit]

Platonic Miguel x Reader

(young reader, platonic)

Miguel had noticed you had been awfully quiet all day.

You sat on the couch watching tv when Miguel came over and sat beside you.

"Sweetheart, can I turn off the TV? I just want to talk." He asked as you nodded a little and let him turn off the TV.

"You've been really quiet all day, honey. Is something wrong?" Miguel asked as you continued to stare at the blank TV.

Miguel took your hand gently.

"Sweetheart, I can't fix this if you don't work with me. Can you look at me?" Miguel asked softly as you looked at him.

"Talk to me, love." He whispered as you sighed a little.

"I saw what you did, daddy." You whispered softly, looking away from him.

He gently reached up and turned your head back towards him.

"What did you see, baby?" He asked as he noticed tears in your eyes.

He reached up and held your face gently.

"Hey, talk to me. You can tell me anything, darling. I'm not going to get angry." He whispered as you nodded a little.

"I saw you hurt that man in the alleyway the other night." You whispered as Miguel's eyes widened.

"Oh... Sweetheart, you should've been asleep." He whispered as you started to cry.

"Are you going to hurt me, daddy?" You cried out as Miguel looked at you sadly.

"Oh, sweetheart. No, never I would never ever hurt you. Come here." He whispered as you climbed onto his lap and hugged him tightly.

"That man was a very bad man, he did some bad things and got away with them. Daddy had to do what he did to protect you and others in this city. No matter what you do, daddy will never hurt you, sweetheart. You're my everything and it's my job to protect you, okay?" Miguel whispered as he gently held you and rubbed your back.

"Okay." You whispered as Miguel slowly rocked you back and forth.

"I love you, sweetheart." He whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"I love you too."

[brienneoftarth1989]

The Simulator

Phasma x young f reader

Summary: “Basically Phasma is inspecting the ship while a new bunch of Cadets is training. F!reader is a Cadet who is obsessed with getting the highest scores on the simulator training, which is starting to affect her health. This becomes apparent when she passes out while the Captain is inspecting her unit on parade. The Captain is very impressed by her scores, and takes her to the medical bay herself. Later on, she gets a message from the medics that the Cadet has sneaked away from the medical bay and finds the reader in the simulator room. Angry that the Cadet has broken medical orders, Phasma gives her smack and decides to supervise her in the Captain's quarters instead, where she can keep an eye on her” requested by reddragon30000 on tumblr

Warnings: passing out, dehydration, exhaustion, young reader, comfort, parental Phasma

Requests open

———————————

Being a young cadet always required a lot of training and you were doing your utter best to make sure you were at the top of the class in all your training. At 13 years old it can be hard though. You were already considered one of the best cadets in your age bracket but you were also beating some of the older cadets in much higher age brackets.

There was one thing you were being defeated by though. It was called the simulator. It trains you to fly the aircrafts as well as your shooting and aiming. Each time you finish the simulator it saves your scores but you still weren’t the top scorer on the simulator and this bothered you massively.

You would spend every opportunity on the simulator to the point it was starting to affect your health. You were staying up late and getting up early to make sure you could spend as much time on the simulator as possible. This meant you were only getting about 4 hours of sleep a day which wasn’t healthy for someone of your age.

On top of that the simulator itself is mentally challenging as it requires a lot of focus which was probably why you weren’t getting the top score. Maybe if you let yourself rest then you could work at getting the top score.

But you couldn’t let that happen. Not today. You had overheard that Captain Phasma was doing an inspection of the ship today and there was a high probability that she would be coming through to check on the training of the new cadets. You were inspired by Captain Phasma and you so desperately wanted to impress her with the top score.

Therefore you weren’t going to let yourself stop until you were getting closer and closer to beating the top scorer. So the rest of the morning you solely spent your time on the simulator and it really was starting to affect you.

You heard the door to your training unit open and you could see Phasma walking through starting her inspection. “Oh god, I need to look busy!” You whispered to yourself. You continued on with the simulator but you were starting to feel weird. Your head was starting to hurt and the simulator felt like it was starting to spin. “I need to get out of this” you said to yourself but as you went to stand the whole world went black.

Phasma continued to walk around the room but what caught her eye was the score on the simulator. Phasma couldn’t help but be impressed that someone was getting closer and closer to beating her impossible score. They were only about 200 points from beating her.

Phasma had to know who this person was considering the cadet unit was for beginners. Phasma knocked on the door waiting for a response but no one responded. She opened the door and was greeted by your limp body on the floor.

Phasma was quick to react and quickly picked you up bridal style and ran you to the infirmary. She looked down at you and realised you were just a child. She was impressed but deeply concerned that someone your age had passed out. When she got you to the infirmary she was greeted by a doctor who guided her to a bed to place you down on.

“What happened?” The doctor asked Phasma. “I have no idea. I was doing my inspection of the ship when I came into her unit’s training room. I was drawn to the simulator and when I opened the door I found her on the floor passed out and white as a ghost” Phasma informed the doctor.

“Ok thank you for bringing her here. We are going to run some tests. I will inform you of the results Captain” the doctor told Phasma. Until you woke up there wasn’t a lot she could do so she went back to what she was doing and hoped that she would get an update quickly.

Phasma went back to work and continued to do her inspection of the ship. After about half an hour she was being beckoned to come back to the infirmary. Hopefully it was about your test results. She made her way to the infirmary and when she arrived she could still see you passed out in bed with a drip next to your bed.

“So did we figure out what was wrong with her?” Phasma asked the doctor. “Yes we did. After conducting a number of tests we found out she is severely dehydrated and she also has strained her eyes so we believe she hasn’t been sleeping either. If she is, it's not for a very long period of time” the doctor told her.

“Oh god that is terrible. Let me know when she awakes. I would like to speak to her” Phasma told the doctor before making her way back to the ship to continue on with her inspection. Phasma spent the rest of her time finishing her inspection which took about another hour to complete.

In this time period she hasn’t heard anything from the doctor so assumed you still hadn’t awoken. You must have been tired, Phasma thought to herself. With Phasma’s inspection finally completed she made her way back to the infirmary to see if you had woken up.

When she arrived at the infirmary she went straight to the bed where she had seen you early. To her surprise though the bed was empty. Phasma quickly called for the doctor to come quickly. “Where is she?” Phasma asked the doctor when he finally got to your bed.

“She was here 15 minutes ago when I came to check on her. She was still asleep. I don’t understand where she could have gone” the doctor said with a hint of worry in his voice. “Oh for god sake. You check the infirmary. I have an idea as to where she may have gone” Phasma said, turning on her heels and making her way straight to the simulator.

When she arrived at the training room she was not surprised to see the score on the simulator keep getting higher and higher before coming to a stop. Just before you could start up the simulator again Phasma was quick to open the door to the simulator.

Before you could even process what was going on you felt her hand collide with your hand. She just slapped your hand. You looked down at your hand before looking up at your captain. You were taken aback and then all the emotions came out of nowhere. You could feel the tears starting to stream down your face.

All Phasma could do was look at you feeling slightly bad for what she had just done. She didn’t slap you that hard did she? Phasma was quick to turn the simulator off before grabbing your hand and leading you to her quarters.

When the two of you arrived Phasma was quick to guide you to the sofa, grabbing a blanket to wrap you up in. “You need to rest. You passed out due to dehydration and exhaustion. If I catch you on that simulator again before you get the all clear I will be removing you from the cadet program! Am I clear?” Phasma said sternly.

Did you hear that right? You weren’t allowed on the simulator until you were better. “But Capt…” but before you could finish Phasma interrupted you again. “Am I clear y/n?” She once again asked.

“Yes Captain” you sighed knowing there was no point in trying to fight this. Phasma was always going to have the final say. She left you to rest in her quarters before making her way to the kitchen to make dinner. Phasma decided on making comfort food so just put a pizza in the oven to cook.

There was an awkward silence in her quarters until the pizza was done. Phasma was quick to plate up the food and bring it out so you could both have some dinner. Phasma was getting slightly tired with the awkward silence so tried to start a conversation with you.

“So why are you trying your hardest to beat the top scorer?” She asked. You had a little think before answering. “Well I’ve always wanted to prove that I’m the best at what I do so if I was able to beat the score then I would finally prove that I am the best” you smiled slightly. Phasma knew deep down you just wanted to feel accepted by everyone and if you could show that you were the best then they would have to accept you.

“Do you want to know something y/n?” Phasma asked you. “Sure, why not?” You smiled as you continued to eat your pizza. You were kinda glad to actually rest. “I’m the top scorer. I got that score when I was 17 years old. I was 4 years older than you and the fact that you are getting so close to beating my score at your age is an accomplishment on its own” she said, smiling at you.

You really had to let that sink in. Your captain had the top score and the fact you were so close to beating at your age was an accomplishment! “You just need to let yourself rest y/n. No one has beaten my score. Well not yet anyway. If you actually let yourself recover you might finally be able to beat it” Phasma said trying to reassure you.

“Thank you Captain. I promise I will let myself recover before going back on the simulator” you said as you finished off your pizza. “How about we just relax for the rest of the day. We could have a movie evening?” Phasma offered. “Yeah, that sounds like a brilliant idea” you said excitedly.

So that is what you did. The two of you spent the rest of the evening watching a variation of films ranging from animation to comedies providing they were age appropriate. By the end of the night you were snuggled up in Phasma’s arms drifting off into a deep sleep. Phasma could only hope that you will listen to her advice.

[bookscribblings]

Books to Entice Reluctant Early Readers

Engaging reluctant early readers can be tough but rewarding. Many kids struggle with reading for various reasons. They may lack interest, find comprehension hard, or be distracted by digital devices. The right book can change everything. It can spark a lifelong love for literature. This article shares effective strategies, recommended titles, and resources to help young learners enjoy…

[roguerebels]

Hutt business! Scav droid swarms! Nanny droid shenanigans! And habitual runaway senate kids! Check out Sal's review of The High Republic: A Valiant Vow! #TheHighRepublic #StarWarsbooks

[h2pinky]

i just read someone on twitter saying that sevika met silco because she thought he was a lesbian and tried to flirt with him at the last drop years ago i think im gonna piss myself

[gatitties]

War & crack II

—Task Force 141 x young!reader

—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic

—Warnings: none

Part One / Halloween special

yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣

─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.

─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.

─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.

─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.

─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.

─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).

─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.

─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.

─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.

─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.

─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.

─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.

─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.

─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...

─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.

─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.

— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.

─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.

─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.

─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.

─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.

─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.

─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.

─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.

─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.

─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).

— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.

— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.

— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.

— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.

— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.

— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.

— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.

— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.

— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.

— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.

— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.

— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?

[caitlynbuceta]

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

[seiwas]

just thought about stepdad bakugo being caught off guard the first time your teenage son calls him “dad” 🥺

it’s after years of being with you. their relationship isn’t bad by any means—it’s okay; it’s good. but your son has called him katsuki for the longest time, and he was happy with that, perfectly content even (at least, he thought he was).

it was enough that your boy dubbed his cooking “the best in the entire universe and beyond”; it was enough that your boy trusted him enough with a few harmless secrets that you may never know. it was enough that you’d both welcomed him into your home, into your lives, in a way that’s made him feel like he belongs.

it was enough (at least, he thought it was), until your kid comes home with a group of friends one day and they ask him, “who’s the guy in your backyard?”

between the scrapes of soil against his gardening shovel and mild hearing problems, katsuki shouldn’t have been able to hear anything—but he hears this loud and clear.

your kid tells his friends, “oh, that’s just my dad,” like it’s the most obvious, natural thing in the world and it hits katsuki square in the chest.

the next thing he knows, he’s smiling, eyes a little wet but not yet crying (—is what he’ll tell you later). it’s a small curve of his lips, but it stays plastered on until the moment you come home.

you wonder, when the three of you are cleaning up after dinner, “what’s got you all smiley today?”

he looks at you, back a little straighter and chest puffed out just a bit more. then, he glances at your son just an earshot away, wiping the table clean; he turns to you, mumbling, “tell ya ‘bout it later.”

(like he’s got all the pride in the world, like he’s got all the love in the world).

[saymio]

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

[greengoblinswifey]

Beneath Chaos—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— amid the deadly Squid Game, you form a forbidden bond with Young-il, a married man. one night after lights out, seeking comfort, you ask him to stay by your side and things escalate.

warnings— no spoilers, age gap(reader is in her 20s, young-il is in his 40s), infidelity, oral(f!receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— for the newbies, y/n in all my stories is black but ofc, everyone can read <3 also this man has so many names, omfg.

Part II

The games had taken their toll on everyone. The latest round had been especially brutal, dead bodies across the arena, screams still ringing in your ears even after hours. Everyone was on edge, fear settling deep into their bones as they huddled in their corners of the dormitory, too paranoid to sleep.

You sat in the dim light, knees drawn up to your chest, trying to quiet your breathing. You glanced over to the group you had managed to stick with, Gi-hun, Jung Bae, Dae-ho, the rest and—Young il.

Your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. He was older, quiet, and deliberate in his actions, his face lined with age and attractiveness. There was a steadiness to him, even in the chaos of the games, that drew you in despite your better judgment. You knew he had a wife, he had mentioned her being in the hospital when the group shared snippets of their lives. But the magnetic pull you felt toward him was undeniable.

The sleeping quarters was cold, the hum of fear in the air. You hesitated before shifting closer to him. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his expression calm but questioning. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling foolish for even asking. “Can you—can you stay beside me tonight? I just, um, I don’t feel safe.”

He regarded you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, after a beat of silence, he nodded. “Alright.”

Relief washed over you as he moved closer, sitting beside you on the thin mattress. The proximity made your heart race, but you told yourself it was just the stress of the situation.

Hours passed, and the room slowly quieted as people succumbed to exhaustion. You and Young-Il lay on your sides, facing each other. The dim light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the lines etched into his skin.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You blinked, startled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the answer to whatever you’re feeling right now,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You flushed, breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know you’re married. I shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours. “Let’s just forget everything for a moment.”

Your breath hitched as he moved closer, his face inches from yours. His lips brushed yours, hesitating at first, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, but the weight of everything unsaid between you made it feel electric.

You pulled back suddenly, guilt flooding you. “I can’t. This isn’t right. You have a wife—”

“Don’t think about that right now,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Just stay with me.”

His lips captured yours again, this time more insistent. The kiss deepened, a hunger building between you as the world outside faded away. His hands roamed down your body and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth. Your breath came in shallow gasps as he moved lower, his hands gripping your hips firmly. When he reached the waistband of your sweatpants, he paused, looking up at you for permission.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both desire and restraint.

You nodded, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest.

With deliberate care, he tugged down your sweats and underwear, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your thighs as he did. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe.

With his eyes locked on yours, his head lowered between your legs. His lips captured your bundle of nerves, sucking softly as a soft gasp left your lips. You pressed them together, not wanting to wake anyone to see what was taking place. His tongue flicked your clit sending more pleasure than you had ever felt throughout your body, making you shiver.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured between your legs.

You nodded frantically, fingers lacing in his silky hair as he continued feasting on your pussy. His tongue glided from your hole back up to your clit then down again. He circled your hole, letting his tongue slip inside as he collected your juices on his tongue. Your free hand clamped over your mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet as he slipped a finger inside your pussy.

Your back arched from the bed as his skilled finger curled and his tongue sucked on your clit with ferocity.

“You’re doing so well, cum for me, cum on my tongue and my fingers,” he whispered.

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath you as he continued, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his finger sending shivers down your spine. His movements became overwhelming and you pressed your lips together tightly as an intense orgasm washed over you making your back arch from the small bed.

“That’s it, good girl, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

In that moment, the fear and chaos of the games melted away, leaving you wanting more. You trembled beneath him, breathless and aching, your skin tingling from the intensity of his tongue. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the dormitory. “I need more. Please.”

He stilled, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear as your fingers gripped his shoulders.

His lips curved into a soft smirk, his hands sliding up your sides. “Then beg for it,” he said, his voice low and commanding, with dominance you hadn’t expected.

Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your chest won out. “Please,” you murmured, your voice soft but trembling with need. “Please, Young-il, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he interrupted. He shifted to sit back on his knees, his hands deftly tugging his sweats and boxers down. He watched your reaction as he freed his hard cock, his gaze heavy.

“Look at you,” he murmured, one hand stroking over your hip as his other lined himself up at your leaking entrance. “So perfect, so beautiful. I don’t deserve this, but, God, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You gasped as he pressed his cock into you slowly, his whispered praises filling the space between you. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his hand braced beside your head. “You’re doing so well. So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts measured and deliberate. The quiet around you made every sound amplified, the soft rustle of sheets, skin slapping, the hitch in your breath, and his murmured words of adoration. “Cum for me,” he whispered into your ear, his voice cracking with need. “Do it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You cried out softly, your hands clutching him as you surrendered, your body shuddering against his as your pussy gushed on his raw cock. He held you through it, his touch firm and grounding.

Moments later, he shifted, his body warm and solid beside you. “I’m not done with you,” he murmured, lifting your leg over his hip as he slid into your throbbing cunt.

The angle made you gasp, your hand flying to his arm as he held you close. “You’re f-fucking me so good,” you managed, your voice breathless.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Stay with me. Feel everything, just like this. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”

Your breaths mingled as he began pounding into you harder and the rhythm grew more intense, both of you trying to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape. His lips pressed against your ear. “Cum with me,” he urged, his voice a broken whisper. “Cum on my cock as I cum inside you, sweetheart.”

You clung to him as your orgasm took ahold of you once more, the world fading away as waves of warmth washed over you. His grip tightened, and his soft groan against your skin coupled with the feeling of his cum filling your pussy were the only confirmation you needed that he’d joined you.

When the high ended, he rolled onto his back, pulling you against his chest. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your hairline, your forehead, your cheeks. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender. “You’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

You nestled against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, the fear and chaos of the games momentarily forgotten.

[rat6ix]

I like guys that are pretty like girls …