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paintedwritings · 1 month ago

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The Great Frosting Incident

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/her pronouns used)

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: Y/n and Azriel’s mating ceremony/wedding is three days aways, but the two can't help themselves and things get out of hand.

Warning/Notes: Mature content- definitely smut read at your own caution, there's some references to anxiety, but not too much. Hope you enjoy, would love any feedback!

✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧

Y/n thought she’d had a good plan, honestly.

She thought that she was being a kind, thoughtful mate and future wife.

Her wedding and mating ceremony with Azriel is in exactly three days. They had been planning the events for nearly a year and a half, now. The two most introverted people in the Inner Circle had somehow come up with a celebration that would rival all others. They had wanted their guests to enjoy the night just as much as they would.

Before their family-only temple ceremony at midnight–where they’d present each other with food and swear their vows to a priestess, they would be holding a party for all of Velaris at the House of Wind– Nesta had insisted on them using it as their reception venue, she’d wanted to help with decorating and guest-control. Feyre and–surprisingly– Rhys had helped her design her own gowns and Azriel’s ceremony garb. Amren had even gifted her a beautiful deep sapphire jewelry set, the same colors of Azriel’s siphons. Mor had taken Y/n to all of her favorite lingerie and silk shops to find the perfect little underthings for the frenzy– a day that Y/n would never be able to think about without blushing.

Mor had made her feel beautiful, telling her about all the different clasps and types of fabrics, how to remove items quickly, where to put the garters. She had given Y/n a long talk about not letting the male rip any of her beautiful clothing, that they’d pick specific ones out for that. She could still feel the lingering blush when the blond had shot her a wink over a barely-clothed mannequin.

She loved that their family had been building the perfect day with them, that they loved the two of them so much they each wanted to help in their own ways. She couldn’t wait to stand before her mate, the love of her life, and all of her family as they vowed to spend their lives together.

Despite the hectic year, the past week has been the most stressful and chaotic part. So much so, that it felt like the world had caved in to just their small corner of the world.

Tonight, however, she had a few hours of free time. Rhys and Cassian had wanted to take Azriel out for drinks and cards… which worked out perfectly, because she only had one thing left to prepare for.

Making a special frosting for the cupcake she planned to feed him–she needed to practice.

Y/n wasn’t exactly known for her prowess in the kitchen. In-fact, she’d had an incident a few years back where certain parts of the kitchen may have burned just a little bit. Really it was Cassian’s fault–not that the Lord of Bloodshed ever admitted to it– they had been trying to cook some old recipe that he’d found in a book in the library. It had ended very badly. The House of Wind had refused to help with anything the two of them needed for weeks.

And, Rhys? He had banned his two friends from cooking in the kitchen for a year.

But, none of that mattered because Azriel loves this frosting. He claims it’s magic and that it tasted like sun-dripped magic and frost-coated night. That it tasted like everything that reminded him of her.

She wanted to make what she presented to him meaningful, not that he wouldn’t love anything she had to offer him– but that wasn’t the point.

Y/n had to make the perfect frosting, for her perfect mate.

✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧

Things were going terribly.

Bowls were littering the counters, half filled and dry first attempts, jeering at her from the sidelines. The kitchen smelt like bad decisions had been charred and disintegrated from deep within, and oh gods, she couldn’t even think about the frosting.

It was everywhere.

All over the counters, on her clothes, in her hair, she was pretty sure some had gone up her nose at some point, blowing it out when the sugar had sprung to life and made her sneeze when one of Azriel’s shadows had attempted to help savage this disaster.

She had tried so incredibly hard to replicate the frosting recipe. For some reason, she hadn’t thought it would be so difficult, she didn’t even have to use an oven. But, no matter how many times she attempted the foul beast, it either crumbled apart in her hands, or ran so wet that it ruined any cupcakes she had tried to decorate with it.

Panic had begun living rent free in her chest.

So far, she only had one batch that looked anything close to what she remembered.

She set it down on the counter, about ready to burst into tears when she felt a tug in her chest. She had been at this for hours, and the only thing she had to show for it was a semi-smooth grayish blue muck pile.

Cauldron–she could scream.

She turned, running her back along the bottom cabinets as she found her way to the floor. A floor she only just now realized had been covered in all sorts of mess she’d created gods only knew how long ago at this point.

Azriel is enjoying his night out with his brothers, something he doesn’t get to do very often as of late. The last thing Y/n wanted was to mess up his fun night with her ridiculous baking skills.

She had one job, to make her mate something devine that he’d love. A representation of their bond to show him how much she loved him, and that she wanted to spend her life with him. And, somehow, she couldn’t even accomplish that.

I’m a failure.

Suddenly, as if the thought shattered whatever wall had been holding her impending tears back, her body wracked with sobs, shaking back and forth slowly.

How had everything happened so quickly? How were they already a few dozen hours away from the most important day of her life? Why couldn’t she make something as simple as frosting?

She felt the bond warm, the small thread singing as the person attached to the other end of it appeared before her. His worried hazel eyes met her round, tear-stained ones, as he gently pulled her hands away from her face. Assessing her state, quickly. Seeing that she wasn’t physically hurt only had her mate relaxing slightly and moving on to other devilish things that could have put her in this state.

“What’s the matter, little dove?” He spoke softly, his large hands cradling her face so softly.

She sniffled, sure she must look absolutely crazy right now.

“You look beautiful,” he spoke earnestly. “And your side of the bond is wide open.”

The statement only made her cry harder. How had she been blessed with such a wonderful male? While he got stuck with a girl who can’t even make a bowl of freaking frosting.

Lifting her with no effort at all, Azriel set her down on the countertop, his body pressing into hers as her legs fell apart, allowing him to stand between them. Apron scrunching around her hips.

“Talk to me, love,” he pleaded, his hands ghosting up the length of her arms. His shadows slithering up her exposed skin, the cool sensation setting a smile on her lips.

“I think I’m just overwhelmed,” she whispered, wiping desperately at the tears on her cheeks, the wetness mixing with all her miserable attempts. “Today’s the first day I’ve really had a chance to breathe, and I am just now realizing I am terrified.”

Azriel hummed, his way of letting her know he was listening, and that he’d wait however long she needed to get her thoughts out. “I am so excited for the next parts of our lives together,” giving him a small smile and a quick squeeze of his hand, “It’s just so much has been going on the past year, and I’m so ready to get to the next part. To just have you and not have to plan the perfect party or worry about flower arrangements and whether or not we want guests to eat on crystalled dinnerware or marble,”

Azriel chuckled lightly, placing a kiss against her hair, his hand– the one not clasped in her hands– rubbing smooth circles along her back.

“I’m ready, too.” He admitted. “And, that’s okay, little dove. We’ve had a great year, planning together and building something that we are excited to share with the people we love.” He lifted her chin, catching her beautiful eyes with his dark pools of hazel, “I think it’s normal to feel this way, it just means that we are ready for what comes after. And I–” he swallowed, his forehead falling against hers, “I cannot wait to be able to call you my mate, my wife.”

Letting out a sigh, tears finally cleared, his mate smiled contentedly at him. “How do you always know the right things to say?”

“I speak to you with what’s in my heart–” A coy smile pulled at his lips, “And sometimes what’s in my pants.”

Laughing, she smacked his arm, wrapping her arms around his neck, pure love shining in her gaze as she looked towards her mate.

“You have made quite a mess, haven’t you?” Azriel said lightly, his hand coming to the back of her neck, placing a chaste kiss against her lips. A small pout falls onto them when he pulls away to take a more in depth look around.

“Are you making…”

“Cupcakes and the dreaded frosting,” she sighs. “Or trying to. Elain got me the recipe of that blueberry-lemon frosting–”

“The one that tastes like a mix of my favorite guilty pleasures and you?” His voice sounded awfully close to giddy.

You give him a small smile, kissing the edge of his jaw softly. “Yes, that’s the one.”

He hummed, elation at the prospect evident as he lifts on the balls of his feet a few times. “And you’re making cupcakes with my favorite frosting, because?”

“Oh,” a blush creeps up your cheeks, “I wanted to practice for when–” she stops herself, eyes meeting his as understanding dawns. Those golden pools of hazel that she loves so much darken, desire flooding through him in an instant.

His lips are on hers in the next breath, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck tightening, so slightly. His other hand tangling in the messy bun adorning the top of her head, loosening the string that had been keeping it out of her face, and the frosting.

His wings flare behind him as her legs wrap firmly around his middle, dragging him ever closer, not a breaths space left between the two. He groans, rutting his body against the counter unconsciously, as her scent of crisp fall air and lavender envelopes around him, he can’t help but smile as he scents the blueberry from the frosting covering her, as well.

Gods, the things he wanted to do to her were endless.

His tongue tangled with hers, fighting for dominance for a brief moment before his hand tightened in her hair, yanking her head back gently, causing her to open her mouth fully, a moan coming out of her. He didn’t mind letting her have control every once in a while, but while she sat between his legs, leaning so wholly against him, trusting him entirely… practicing baking for when– for when they would accept the bond–

Azriel kissed her harder, more desperately.

Gods above, he was so in love with her. He knew she was nervous about the ceremonies, about being the center of attention. He would do everything in his power to ensure that he alleviated those anxieties as much as possible. He fell more in love with her each day. She had always fit right into his life, his family, so effortlessly. Perfectly.

Her generous soul and wondering spirit called to him in the deepest parts of his heart. She had been made as his equal, his partner, his mate, mate, mate. His shadows chanted, he shoved them down–away. Somedays he had no problem sharing his mate with them, but right now, he wanted it to just be the two of them.

“What–” She said breathless as his lips trailed down her jaw, her throat, leaving open mouth kisses everywhere he could. His scarred hands trailing the length of her arms now, one clasping her hands together, squeezing once, twice. “About Rhys and Cassian?” She sputtered.

Azriel had know idea what she was talking about, but couldn’t help the growl that escaped as two other men’s names came from your delicious lips. It didn’t matter that they were his brothers, it still set him on edge, especially when he had his tongue down her throat. Reading his confusion and possessiveness, she giggled softly as the two of them caught their breath. “Weren’t you supposed to be enjoying a boys night out tonight?”

Oh. Oh.

He fought a blush as it crept up his neck, beelining for his cheeks. “They’re fine, we were just drinking and playing cards– they lost miserably–truly you did them a favor by taking me off their hands.” A kiss placed on each of her cheeks before his forehead fell against hers once more. “You’re beautiful, and I’d much rather be here with you.”

“Besides, I think we should practice a different part of our mating ceremony tonight,” Her eyes glazed over as desire pooled deep within, every inch of her body standing to attention, ready to have this male, her male, ravish her wholly.

All thoughts emptied out of her head as his tongue danced along hers, hands cupping her breasts through her shirt, plucking at the nipples as they hardened, earning a moan from her that he happily devoured.

Trailing her fingers across his hard erection, palming him fully, mouth salivating at the sheer size of this male, their bond vibrated with ecstasy. Azriel jolted forwards, ricocheting her body backwards, her hand accidentally smashing into the bowl of frosting she had made early– the bluish mixture coating her fingers.

They were far too gone to care, his hands pulling at her clothing, all but tearing her apron off, as he shoved her skirt up to her waist. A growl leaving him as his hand slid along her skin, gooseflesh sprouting in their wake, cursing as he realized she had no panties beneath. A daring smile pressing along her mouth as he kissed her harder, losing his control, swiftly.

She cradled his cheeks with her hands, absentmindedly, her fingers flicking all over his face, painting him with frosting as they found their way into his hair, his mouth trailing down her throat as his fingers found the pool of her arousal, his fingers flicking deftly once, twice against the little nub, her back arching as a moan escaped her.

“Az, we should–we should go to our room,” her voice didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. Especially not when she let out a beautifully delectable noise when he ran his fingers along her folds, slipping one in quickly. Letting out his own groan at the heat of her core on his skin. He could die happy like this, he decided.

“Or,” his teeth grazed the edge of her ear, slowly pressing her down into the table, splaying her in front of him like his own personal feast. “I could taste you right here, take my beautiful little dove on this island and show her how I plan to worship her for the rest of our lives,” Her eyes trailed his every move of his body as he dropped to his knees, her knees closing on instinct around him, her core tightening.

Her body burned, his touch lingered on every inch of her as he trailed delicate kisses along her thigh, to the inside of her knee, and down to her ankle, then straight back up the other side. “So perfect,” he spoke between kisses, “my beautiful mate,” then he pressed a sweet, almost fragile kiss, directly against her.

She moaned, greedy for his touch, his lips on her most sensitive parts. Her hands needed a place to land, to grip onto so she didn’t fall straight off the edge of the world. She grabbed the table, his hair, even the bowls of frosting still surrounding them as he continued his assault against her clit, his finger being joined by a second one as they repeatedly hit that wonderful spot deep inside of her.

She settled on holding her breasts, the fabric of her shirt somehow ending up somewhere near her collarbone. She applied any kind of friction she could as her mate ravaged her, his hand flattened against her lower abdomen as his tongue replaced his fingers, dipping in and out of her–moaning right alongside her as he devoured her juices, did his best to capture every little bit, not wanting to miss even a ounce. His fingers found their way to her clit, stroking and massaging her into madness.

Once his tongue entered the picture, she had been a goner, quickly hurtling toward that ledge, her body alight with unfettered pleasure, something only this man could ever make her feel.

He drank her in as her body finally coiled tightly, a release so intense her back bowed off the table. His tongue lightly flicked at her entrance, trying to coax her through her high, her legs shaking so thoroughly she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to stand again.

Slowly, so slowly, her mate stood, still fully clothed, and gently pulled her up. Her skirt fell back around her waist, offering little to hide what had just occurred as she completely fell against him. He held her up, slowly stroking her arm, allowing her a moment to catch her breath.

Their eyes met, small smiles lit both of their faces. Y/n didn’t give much thought as she brought her fingers to his lips, feeling the soft, swollen skin. She still had frosting on them, and Azriel didn’t hesitate as he sucked a digit into his mouth, licking and suckling the skin, letting it go with a pop.

He stepped back momentarily as her giggles took control, his tongue reaching out, flicking across his lips, tasting it, some frosting still coating the area. “It’s good.” He amends. She didn’t know if he meant the frosting or her, as he lifted his fingers that had just been deep inside of her and tasted them thoroughly, his eyes never leaving hers.

She could already feel that heat building up inside of her, nowhere near satiated yet. It only took one look at her mate to know that he was nowhere near done with her, either.

Then he’s coming towards her, and she barely has enough time to duck beneath his arms and scurry around the island she’d just been perched on. Already running from the male with mischievous glint in her eyes.

She barely makes it to the doorway when she watches Azriel with wicked intent in his dark, arousal filled gaze. His deft fingers dip into the blue frosting, quickly aiming it towards her retreating form. Y/n squeals and runs for her life as Az chases her through the corridor.

She doesn't even make it all the way down the hallway before he’s on her. A strong arm wraps around her middle, his other hand coming up and smearing frosting across her cheeks, and down her neck as they both laugh.

Then she’s against the wall, Azriel caging her in, frosting covered hands roving all over each other, his lifting her skirt once more, looking like he was ready to just tear the damn thing off her. Squeezing her thighs, traveling up the length of her stomach and breasts, before landing back on either side of her face. He consumed her whole.

A man starved.

One of her hands is gripping his leathers for dear life, trying to stay tethered to this world as it crashes down around her. Her other hand, well, it has a mind of its own as she lifts it slowly, eyes meeting his as she asks the silent question. When he nods quickly before going back to servicing his god, her finger runs a short, soft line down the side of his wing.

The noise that comes out of him is somewhere between a plea and a beast's snarl. His cock is straining against his leathers, rock hard against her leg. Another quick sprinkling of fingers across his wings has him rutting against her lewdly, his teeth sinking into her shoulder at the uncontrollable act. Kissing down the length of his throat, she finally releases the death grip on his leathers and unbuckles his pants.

“Y/n.” It’s a shallow, broken word. She swears she can hear a please come after.

She loved that she could drive him to this state. That he felt safe enough with her to be so free, at her mercy.

“What is it you always ask me?” she taunts lowly. His eyes lock with hers, something awfully close to intrigue, and complete submission simmering behind them. Giving him a wicked smile, as she frees his thick, swollen cock, her hand not able to wrap entirely around him. A needy-whimper falls from his lips, his breathing nothing more than shallow pants, as she strokes the length of his cock, up and down, over and over, squeezing when needed, and rubbing the pad of her thumb leisurely over the tip of him, precum oozing out. He’s smooth in her hand, pulsating at each wicked flick of her wrist. Her body pressed so thoroughly to the wall, if anyone walked in they would only see him.

“Are you going to be good for me?” She finally asks, a voice she doesn't even recognize falling from her lips. “We wouldn’t want anyone hearing you, your noises are mine.” She purred, hand still casually stroking her mate, watching as he slowly lost his mind, watched as his legs started shaking, his eyes screwed shut tightly, lips pressed together, biting his tongue, trying so desperately to not make noise.

“Y/n, I’m–” She had never heard him sound so undone. She wanted to carve it into her memory, trace it with her tongue.

It took no time for him to help lift her, her legs wrapping around his middle. It took even less time for him to sheath himself fully inside of her. The two far past caring that they were in the middle of a hallway in the House of Wind, some of their family occupying rooms all throughout.

The only thing that mattered to her was the feeling of Azriel, inside of her, filling her so full that she felt complete.

They were panting, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her middle, simultaneously pressing her hard against the wall and his chest. Her fingers found their way under his silk top, tracing the ridges of his abs, and following the lines of his tattoos that she could draw in her sleep.

“Az,” she panted, as her mate stood still, filling her completely, but torturing her by staying so utterly still. “Please, move,” she tried to lift herself, to bounce on his cock, but his firm hands.

“Little dove,” he spoke, his words strained, “I just need a moment–”

His lips pressed to her hair, then her cheek, her jaw, then, finally, so, so slowly he pulled out, slowly pushing all the way back in.

The moans that came from them would have sent a priest into the ground. Their breaths danced together, their eyes locking briefly before they’re lips connected and he began moving again.

“Oh, gods,” she mewled as he hit that spot so deep inside of her, his hips flush with hers as one of his hands found the cheek of her ass, hitting once, twice. The soft burn only brought her closer to the high already building inside of her, her arms wrapping around his neck, giving him easier access to her hips as he continued his torturous thrusts.

Noises were spilling out of her like symphonies to his ears, new melodies being born into the world. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching behind him, stroking the tips of her fingers around the curved edge near the top.

Whatever control Azriel had snapped.

His hands gripped her hips, his body flush against hers, the wall and his hands the only two things keeping her upright. He thrust into her over and over, euphoria shattering her vision as stars burst behind her lids. She could feel him pulsating, their slick centers making a deliciously crude sound as they came together over again.

When the tips of his fingers met that desperate, aching pearl, stroking and kneading in a way he knew she’d love, she imploded.

Her orgasm ricocheted through her body in waves. All thoughts emptying from her mind as pleasure consumed her. As her mate continued to ruthlessly pound into her, harsh breaths spilling from between his lips.

“That’s it, my little dove, milk my cock.” He soothed, his fingers finally relenting their ministrations against her. There was nothing but pure male pride laced in his voice, possessiveness oozing from every orifice.

Her hips circle his on instinct, ready for another round, it didn’t matter that she’d already come twice, she needed more. Besides, her mate typically didn’t let her go without giving her at least three to his one. He took great care of her, always making sure she was completely satisfied.

“I want you to cum in my mouth,” she pleads, stopping her tortuous movements. He let out a choppy sob at the sudden loss of feeling.

“Holy fuck, Y/n,” he growled, slipping out of her and guiding his mate down to her knees without a second thought. His hand staying put in her hair, helping to guide her exactly where he wanted her. Sitting back on her heels, looking up at him with big innocent eyes. This beautiful specimen of a man standing over her, stroking his cock like his life depends on it. There was a wild, animalistic look in his eyes, sweat beading across his forehead. He was still covered in icing, Suddenly she was so thankful she took to baking today.

Azriel smacks the head of his cock against her mouth, once, twice, before slowly guiding himself inside her hot, tight mouth. Both moaning into each other, it took everything inside of Azriel not to rut straight to the back of her throat, “fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last long, I don’t think I can hold myself back. Mother above, you're so perfect, perfect for me. Made to suck my cock. Isn’t that right, love?”

His cock hit the back of her throat, the stretch uncomfortable, but so delicious. “Remember, little dove, if its too much you hit my thigh three times,” She does her best to nod, but only manages to choke herself more as Azriel pulls his cock out to the tip, before slamming back in, her eyes blacking out for just a moment, a gag trapped between their bodies. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hand guiding her head.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” she could hear the control slipping from his tone, could feel as he quickly hurtled to that edge, she had every intention of joining him there. So, she did as she was told. She slipped her fingers between her legs, feeling their mix of juices as they leaked down her thighs, and began stroking–matching her swirls of her tongue with her fingers.

Starting to speed up his motions, as he pulled his greedy cock in and out, using her mouth like his own personal paradise.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he raspy voice chorused.

His thrusts turned sloppy, his hands tightening in her hair, when his cock hit the back of her throat one last time, a gag unstoppable as he spilled down her throat.

She drank him up, every last drop, she didn’t want to miss any of him. Thick, warm liquid that tasted of salt and the darkness and entirely of him coated her throat. His taste alone had her following quickly after, her third orgasm barrelling through her as she sat on her knees in the middle of the hallway, skirt lifted to her waist, cardigan lost somewhere around her arms.

When he pulled out, breathing heavily, Y/n couldn’t help but place a chaste kiss against the head of his cock, one last peck, just an ‘until next time’. He hissed at the overstimulation, his hands guiding themselves around her elbows before he guided her to her feet.

“That was–” he shook his head, letting it fall against hers. She smiled as he fixed his leathers, looking around to ensure none of their family had had the misfortune of bearing witness to the two of them.

She’s about to say something when Azriel tenses. One of his shadows darting around his shoulders.

Azriel looked her over, straightening her skirt, and closing her cardigan as he did his best to try to wipe the remaining frosting off of her face. That’s when she hears them.

Footsteps, loud, even in fae standards, coming down the perpendicular hallway. Purposeful, those steps were meant to alert the two lovebirds.

She could already feel the blush taking over her, flooding her cheeks, her chest, her shoulders, her knees, every inch of her being.

“It’s okay, little dove,” Azriel whispered into her hair.

She was so embarrassed–

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothed. “ That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. We’re mates, we’re bound to lose ourselves in the moments sometimes.” She nods quickly, pride slowly sawing away at her humiliation, “besides, Cassian and Nesta have done way worse things to each other, in far more of our shared living spaces.”

Burying her face in his chest, his soul finding solace as his arms wrapped around her, his cheek laying against the top of her head.

He came to an abrupt halt, inhaling his mate’s scent– it was different?

What the hell?

Rhys finally rounds the corner, peeking over slightly to ensure he’s not disrupting the two of them in the middle of their…relations. Cassian, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice or maybe he just didn’t care.

“What the hell is going–” Cassian starts, stopping short as he enters the hallway. “Good gods, what were you two doing in here? It reeks of sex and–”

“Cassian,” Azriel snarls. Stepping more fully between his brothers and his mate. Instincts flaring alive inside of him, calling to him to keep her far out of their sights. His wings rose as they stretched to their full length, keeping her out of his brothers’ line of sight.

She could only imagine how this must have looked to the males. Both of them breathless, him cradling her to his chest, face buried against him, both of them still covered in frosting, there were even some spots on the walls covered in the dark blue sugar.

“Uh, guys–” Cassian continues, ignoring Azriel, and the very nasty snarls coming from the shadowsinger as his grip on her only tightens. His shadows now back in full as they swarm to cover her skin where she’s bare.

“Stop staring at her,” Y/n’s eyes widened, she had never heard Azriel sound so…feral.

“Az?” She spoke so lowly only he could hear.

Azriel seemed to have stopped breathing, his eyes closed so tightly that the crinkles in his eyes appeared. He nodded his head, probably talking to Rhys via his daemati abilities.

When his eyes finally opened, they were filled with nothing but sorrow, and what looked like… an apology?

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I wasn’t thinking straight.” It was at that moment that everything clicked into place.

The frosting.

No, no, no.

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide as she stood stark still against her mate. He had licked the frosting. That she had made for him.

“But–but we,” she stammered, thoughts running a mile a minute. “It’s not like I offered it to you on a spoon!” She screeched as the past year started crumbling around her. All of the planning, all the hard work and long days, only for them to–

Oh gods.

Cassian cringed, making sure to stay far away, now that he knew why his brother had been pulsating, ready to burst at their appearance. The slight twitch of his wings, the only indication of his possessive rage, that took root deep inside of him.

“Whatever you did,” Rhys spoke carefully, also standing further back, she noticed. “Was enough for the bond to solidify, your scents–”

Azriel snarled so viciously when the High Lord met Y/n’s gaze, his mate quickly looking anywhere else as to avoid agitating him.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths, waiting to see if Azriel would continue to cradle his new mate against his rough-rising chest or if he’d lunge for one or both of his brothers, as they all walked a very fine, very unpredictable line.

Then, she laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Azriel’s eyes tracked her every movement, her head falling back against the wall, her fingers holding tightly to his leathers, keeping him close. His ears rung with pleasure at the sound, his fear of how this would change things dissipating at the sound. Did that mean… she wasn’t angry?

Then she smiled, unwavering and bright, her hands cradling his cheeks as she stared at her mate. “We’re accidentally-officially mated,” Her face aglow with utter joy and excitement.

She’s not sure when Rhys and Cassian finally made their exit, the males slowly backing away, giving each other looks, not having expected this turn of events.

She didn’t care, though.

“We are never going to live this down,” she groaned. Already knowing that their family and friends would tease them about this for years to come. She smiled, the thought not nearly as alarming as she’d thought.

Not when she was in her mate’s arms, not when their scents were merged in the most delicious ways.

“I guess it’s not practice, after all.” She spoke softly, her lips brushing along his, “now, are you gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or are you going to bring me to our bedroom and finish what we started?”

Pure male pride lit Azriel’s face, a wicked smirk that showed off his canines was the last thing she saw before they disappeared into his shadows.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #rhysand #cassian acotar #acotar fanfic

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listenerslanguage · 17 days ago

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Yandere dad and yandere mom, but they Lowkey hate each other-

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

To the outside world, they are but a simple, loving family.

Yandere!Dad payed for anything and everything – be it food, clothes, accessories, or some stupid nick-nack you found that only you could find the humour of. He drove you everywhere and was always happy driving you and your friends to a park, or the cinema.

Your friends kept telling you they wished your dad was their dad. How pampering and kind he was was making some of them jealous.

Then, there's Yandere!Mom. She was anything but unloving towards you. She frequently gives you hugs and kisses and never dares not support your next project or hobby. She is willing to talk to you whenever you want to. Spill the tea, as the kids say, she is willing to post-pone and drop everything just to hear you rant about the newest drama in your friend group.

They are the perfect parents!...but as a couple? Not so much...

You wouldn't say they would fight in the traditional sense, there was rarely any yelling.

They, instead, would send each other death glares whenever you spent time with one of them while the other wasn't included in the activity. They wore forced smiles that embodied mocking. They would talk passive-agressivly; your dad forcing out a laugh before pretending to remember how your mom spent the whole weekend with you...and it would only be fair now that he spend this weekend with you, seeing as your mom has hogged your entire life.

"I just think you're trying to get my child away from me, is all." Your father states through a fake smile, glaring at your mom as she can only laugh and deny that allegation, instead mentioning how he kept taking you out to restaurants and city fairs without her and her permission.

And that conversation goes on and on, and you always go the next room or put your headphones on to muffle their childish bickering. Sometimes, you wished they yelled instead...

Not to mention the constant one-upping they keep doing.

Your dad buys you some new shoes, your mom has to go out and buy you a whole new wardrobe. In response to that, your dad buys you a new PC with only the best features. Your mom scoffs and goes out to buy you the new VR set that came out. Your dad immediately retaliates by buying you a brand new TV along side some consoles and a bazillion of games. Your mom buys you a car, and your dad seems to give up!...but you know he won't.

Not when you see his laptop open in his room, multiple tabs open for when he searched for a brand new house for you...

Divorce? Not an option. They're definitely divorced mentally and physically, but legally, they still share the same surname. And they heard about the trauma kids can experience when they're parents go through a divorce, and they would never want to put you through that!

And besides, there will be the fight about custody, and they are not willing to share. When they live together, they can look after you whenever they want, and not stick to some one-week at your dad's and one week at your mom's bullshit. No, they can know and pester each other when they're under the same roof.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

#yandere father figure #yandere mother figure #yandere mom #yandere dad #yandere platonic #yandere parents #mommy issues #daddy issues #yandere #yandere concept #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #x reader #yandere x darling

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chumby4life · 1 month ago

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Don't Go Anywhere (Tenna x Reader)

Summary: “...Those scandalous tapes you rented from the video store… We watched them together late at night, when everyone in the house was asleep. Do you remember that? I do.”

You're a total TV addict who needs to get a job. But how does the TV feel about that?

~2k words

How long has it been since you’ve gotten up from the couch? Maybe… A day? Less? More? It’s hard to tell when you’re watching TV. No better form of escapism seems to exist, nothing quite so perfectly mind-numbing. But there in the corner of your eye is the Classifieds section of the newspaper, nagging you. You’d sworn to yourself that you’d have a job lined up by the end of the month.

Sighing, you pick up the paper and begin to peruse the job listings, even this small act costing you so much effort. You spend a little while leafing through the newspaper, until the TV’s volume seems to increase on its own, blaring an infomercial:

“Tired of feeling pressured? Afraid of being pushed out of your comfort zone? Now, you don’t have to…” You look up and notice the picture on the screen warping slightly.

“Ugh, not again,” you whine, getting up to smack the TV on its side a few times, a crude fix-all that usually seems to do the trick. Frustrated, you turn off the TV and resume your job search, eventually managing to schedule an interview for tomorrow. The job itself is nothing special, but hey, it gets your roommates off your back. You end the day watching reruns of your favorite sitcom, That 70’s Big Bang Fresh Prince of Full House, its witty quips and laugh tracks lulling you into sleep.

As you doze off, the sound from the sitcom becomes more distant, more muted until you find yourself suspended in perfect silence, surrounded by nothing but pitch blackness. You gasp when you hear a voice from behind you - it sounds fuzzy, like a worn-out tape.

“That hurt, you know,” it says.

You turn around, your eyes strained by a bright rectangle of light. A pair of hands come to rest on your shoulders before you can back away. “No need to fear,” the voice hums, softer this time. “The show’s about to start!” The hands on your shoulders move up to your face, where they gently nudge your mouth into a smile. “So let’s turn that frown upside down, hm?”

“I-what? The show?”

“Yes, silly, the SHOW! Now, Mike, let’s hit those lights!”

Again, you have to squint your eyes as the lights come on, transforming the darkness into a dated talk show set complete with cityscape backdrop and fake plants. You’re left standing there awkwardly to acclimate to the sensory overwhelm of it all - the cloying audience, the loud music, the bright colors… And, of course, the humanoid television dancing at center stage, soaking up every ounce of praise from his sea of fans.

“Aaaaand welcome back to another exciting episode of Mr. Tenna LIVE! Folks, we’ve got a great show here for you tonight!! But first…”

Mr. Tenna, as he calls himself, sneaks his arm around your waist and pulls you against his side.

“...Let’s introduce our very charming guest! Lover of TV, aspiring employee… Thanks SO much for coming on the show!”

Tenna points his microphone towards you and gives you a hopeful smile. “Come on now, don’t be shy,” he coos while pulling you closer with a quiet insistence.

You clear your throat, the sound echoing unceremoniously. “You’re welcome,” you begin, your gaze darting between Tenna and his expectant audience. You’re quite certain this is a dream, but that doesn’t completely quell your stage fright. “Didn’t have much of a choice, but… Yeah! Great to be here.” The audience’s reaction seems disproportionately enthusiastic, loud cheering and music filling the space around you.

“Aren’t they just lovely, folks? Yes, they LOVE being here! With me…” Tenna finally releases you, only to start rubbing the side of his head in exaggerated misery. “But don’t be fooled, ladies, gents, and germs,” he adds, pointing directly at you, a mischievous look on his screen. “This one here is feisty! Smacked me right upside the head!!”

A drawn out gasp from the crowd punctuates Tenna’s monologue. You look down at your feet, feeling a bit guilty for whacking your TV earlier. How were you supposed to know it was going to come into your dreams and will itself into corporeality?

“Oh, the things I go through for love, folks,” Tenna laments, his antennae drooping as he clutches his chest in a bid for sympathy, “Poor ol’ Mr. Tenna, too loyal for his own good…”

Thoroughly guilt-tripped, you mumble out an apology which causes Tenna to immediately perk up, a goofy grin spreading across his screen. “You really mean it?” He spins on one heel to face you, leaning forward and casting a long shadow over you.

“Then all our lovely guest must do is say, ‘I’m sorry for hitting you, Mr. Tenna!’” Again, the microphone is stuck in front of your face.

“I… I’m sorry for hitting you, Mr. Tenna?”

As you comply and recite the apology, Tenna fiddles with his tie in anticipation, getting some kind of satisfaction from your obedience. He steps closer to you, causing you to instinctively retreat.

“Very good,” Tenna praises, tilting your chin upwards as the microphone is once again held close to you. “But I think we can do even better than that, don’t you? Let’s hear it again… Like you mean it.” Despite the firmness of his words, that goofy smile remains on Tenna’s screen, so conveniently unaware of his own intimidating nature.

“I’m sorry for hitting you, Mr. Tenna,” you say with more conviction. You’re forced to take another step backwards as Tenna advances even closer, until you’re backed into the chair behind you. All you can do is watch as he places his hands on either side of your armchair, leaning in even closer so that you can feel the static emanating from him. It’s that warm, electric feeling you get when you’re right up against a CRT screen.

Tenna remains in this position until his static electricity makes your hair stand on end. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Before you can say anything, Tenna is already facing the audience again, reaching over to gently smooth down your staticky hair in a petting motion. “But who could ever hold a grudge against our charming guest? Not me!”

Waving and bowing to his adoring audience, Tenna makes his way to the desk adjacent to your chair, ready to assume the role of talk show host. You can’t help but feel endeared by how desperately he emulates the many charismatic hosts and actors you’ve watched on TV.

“Now, then,” Tenna says, shuffling a stack of cue cards. He tries to slick back his antennae, but they instantly stand back up like loaded springs. “Why don’t you tell us about this EXCITING new job opportunity?”

“Ah, well, it’s not that exciting… Just some office job. I’m supposed to interview for it tomorrow. Guess my roommates are sick of me lazing around and watching TV all day.” You give a self-deprecating chuckle.

In response, Tenna starts applauding, the crowd obediently following suit. “Well, now, isn’t that something?! Let’s make some noise for our guest, everybody!”

You lower your head, unaccustomed to this level of praise, especially for something as mundane as a job interview.

“You say it’s ‘not all that exciting’, dear guest, but think about what comes after this - a new job, new responsibilities, and BOOM! Your life is totally different!” Tenna takes a contemplative sip from what you’re pretty sure is a totally empty mug. “Isn’t that swell? No more of that lousy free time! No more video games! No more movies! And no more That 70’s Big Bang Fresh Prince of Full House!”

You notice Tenna’s fist clench slightly on his desk, crumpling his cue cards even as he keeps smiling at you. The other hand plays anxiously with his right antenna. Meanwhile, you’re feeling some anxiety of your own - you hadn’t thought about how much of your time and your hobbies would be sacrificed.

“Well, it’s not as if I’d lose ALL of my time-”

“It was a good run we had,” Tenna interrupts, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head in reminiscence. “Oh, folks, how I’ll miss it!!”

“Listen, we can still-”

The audience groans in canned sympathy as Tenna suddenly rises from his desk and tosses his cue cards behind him like sad confetti. “Remember how we stopped time’s cruel advances? Beating those old high scores, laughing at your favorite movies?”

You look on, slightly unnerved as Tenna begins to circle around your armchair. He continues nostalgia baiting you relentlessly, and you know you don’t stand a chance of getting a single word in. “I always loved having your eyes on me, how you’d tell yourself ‘just one more episode’ and struggle to stay awake, just so you could look at me a few moments longer.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you protest, moving to get up from the chair. But somehow, you failed to notice that the entire time Tenna was circling you, the cord of his microphone was wrapping itself around you. Now, you’re hopelessly bound to the chair, unable to escape this pity party.

Tenna tugs on his microphone a couple times, ensuring that you’re held in place with a self-satisfied smirk. “And who could forget our more… Private times?” This earns a teasing “ooooooh” from the audience while Tenna moves behind your chair, looking down at you. “Your favorite celebrity was on MTV one day… You were so enamored that you kissed the screen.”

Another “oooh” from the crowd, to your embarrassment. The heat and brightness of the stage lights suddenly feels oppressive in its intensity. You feel Tenna idly twirl a lock of your hair around his finger as he keeps humiliating you.

“...Those scandalous tapes you rented from the video store… We watched them together late at night, when everyone in the house was asleep. Do you remember that? I do.” Tenna’s voice lowers to a conspiratorial murmur. “You have no idea how… Honored I was to be there for you in those moments. To know that in some way, I was bringing you that pleasure.”

Your face flushes red at having these intimate, self-indulgent moments exposed in front of an audience. And yet, there’s also a faint sense of excitement at having shared those times with something… Or someone else. “Yes, I remember that,” you say quietly.

“Of.. Of course you do!” For a few seconds, Tenna goes rigid, a blush visible on his screen. Then, he scrambles back to center stage, all flailing arms and frantic steps, like he can’t contain himself. “Aaaaalrighty then, folks! Things are getting a little heated here,” he announces, attempting to return to his talk show host persona while tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Let’s hope the censors don’t take me off the air!”

The audience laughs while Tenna adjusts his tie, periodically looking back at you as if afraid you’ll disappear. His usual dopey smile seems more forced than ever, sharp teeth poking through that you hadn’t noticed before. “Now, everyone, I just know you’re gonna LOVE what we’ve got up next for you on Mr. Tenna LIVE! after these messages! Don’t go anywhere!!”

Right on cue, the curtain falls, separating you and Tenna from the audience. Without the crowd of adoring fans watching him, his demeanor becomes more unstable, more tense. He turns to face you as you struggle with the cord tied around you, his voice stern yet strained.

“...Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not,” you lie, fighting uselessly against your restraints while Tenna approaches you with slow, slightly trembling steps. He looms over you like a wilted flower, his posture drooping, his antennae collapsed.

“It’s a scary world out there, isn’t it? That’s why you love TV.”

You’re abruptly pulled forward in your chair when Tenna pulls at the microphone cord, your body brought closer to his. He grins down at you, as if trying to make himself appear less threatening. “Gee, 8 hours a day in that world… How long until you recognize where you really belong? Not very long, I think.”

You sit there frozen in front of Tenna, your body tense beneath the cord’s tight grip. But just as his words start to make you question yourself, you see him crumple to his knees before you, his final thread of composure coming undone. Where you were intimidated moments ago, you now feel something resembling pity.

“Baby, where did I go wrong? Is it… Is it because my warranty’s up…?”

Tenna grovels as if this were a tearful breakup, as if you could ‘break up’ with an electrical appliance. Even with the curtain closed and no watchful crowd, his emotions still feel a bit theatrical. Still, it’s hard not to feel a little sorry for him, the way he begs. “It’s not about you, I just need a job,” you try to explain.

“I get it, I really do,” Tenna sighs, finally freeing you from the tangle of cord. “You have better things to do now… Don’t let ol’ Tenna get in your way…” He waves you away even as he remains kneeling in front of you, blocking your path. His screen has powered off and lost its light, replaced with emptiness.

Your mind fills with doubt and remorse the longer you witness Tenna’s pathetic display. He wasn’t wrong - you can’t really see yourself cutting your screen time in half just for some crummy job. “You know, I think I would miss my TV a lot if I had to work… Maybe I can skip the interview tomorrow, I would’ve hated that job anyway…” You rest your hand atop Tenna’s head, trying your best to be reassuring.

Tenna visibly tenses at your touch and words of reassurance. He tentatively reaches up to place his hand atop yours. “You need me - I mean - you need TV, right…?”

“I.. I need TV.” You hear Tenna shudder at your reply.

“And… And I still make you laugh and feel good?”

“Yes, you do.”

Tenna leans into you, pressing into you slightly and leading your hand down to his ON/OFF switch.” Say it again. Say that you need… That you need TV.”

A small, more responsible part of you protests as you press down on Tenna’s on switch with purpose, holding it down for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. “I need TV, more than anything,” you say shamelessly, deciding to indulge him. “I don’t think anything could make me take my eyes off you…”

“O-oh,” is all Tenna can manage, that warm, static sensation brushing up against you as you release his on switch. After a moment’s delay, Tenna springs back to his feet, little happy jolts of electricity running through his antennae.

“Honey, I just love it when you turn me on!!”

With uncanny timing, the curtain swings open, the bright lights and lively energy returning to the space. To the audience’s delight, Tenna picks you up and hugs you close, swinging you around like a ragdoll in his joy and relief.

“And we are BACK, folks!! Our amazing guest has just come to the most wonderful conclusion!” Still holding you off the ground, Tenna looks down at you, blushing and grinning like a fool. “Promise me (and tonight’s audience!) you’ll stay tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, yes, fine, I promise.” You feel a bit crushed by Tenna’s grip as he swings you around some more. You can feel wakefulness touching the edges of your consciousness as he sets you down, waving goodbye to you before turning to his crowd.

“Well, our guest is in luck, folks, because TV Guide promises a MARATHON of That 70’s Big Bang-”

You wake up before Tenna can finish saying the sitcom’s long-winded title. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up on the couch to find you’d fallen asleep in front of the TV again. “Oh, right, the interview…”

But before you can get up, you feel something holding you back. You picture all the time and effort that would go into preparing for that interview and slump back down, your hand reaching for the remote without conscious thought. A smile appears on your face when you open TV Guide, noticing a particularly interesting marathon on the schedule.

“Well, just a few episodes wouldn’t hurt, then it’s back to the grind,” you say to yourself, settling in to lose yourself in the TV screen.

#deltarune #deltarune fanfic #tenna deltarune #mr. tenna #tenna x reader #deltarune chapter 3 #ant tenna #tenna

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straylightdream · 9 months ago

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king of my heart

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: jeon wonwoo x f.reader

↳ I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own. I made up my mind, I'm better off being alone. We met a few weeks ago. Now you try on callin' me "baby" like tryin' on clothes

𝐠𝐞��𝐫𝐞: soulmates au?, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, they’re both so incredibly down bad for each other, wonwoo rides a motorcycle (I don’t know if that’s a warning), smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: my next story for SVT inspired by reputation songs by taylor swift. This is part of a loosely connecting series called “all for you” you can absolutely just read this as one shot. Vernon’s story is coming soon about him and his girl that’s mentions.

part two

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, big dick wonwoo, breeding kink, cum play, cum eating, body worship, breast play (wonwoo is boob obsessed), praise kink, glasses kink?(mc gets really turned on by wonwoo glasses), nicknames: baby (both)

It all felt like a whirlwind meeting him. You had lived your life mostly alone. You had moved to the city after college away from your family. You were heavily focused on your career. You had lived alone for the last two years and never even tried dating.

You met Wonwoo on a Friday night when a couple of coworkers convinced you to go out with them. You couldn’t say no to Mingyu when he practically begged you to join him and his friends. You and Mingyu worked for a publishing house.

Something tells you Mingyu wanted to set you up with Wonwoo all along. The moment you were introduced you were drawn to him. He’s so handsome and charming. You shared an instant connection with him you had never shared with anyone before.

Since that first night you met you couldn’t stop thinking about the boy with glasses. You went on your first date after only knowing each other for two days. He took you on a sunset picnic by the river. You instantly realized you had a lot in common but you were also quite different, but in a good way. That night was the first night you rode on his motorcycle. You never knew you could be so attracted to a man who rode a motorcycle before him. He took you home walking you up to your apartment. You had no issues with sleeping together on your first date, but Wonwoo said he wanted to wait a little. He said the anticipation of what’s to come will make it worth it. So that night with you pressed up against your front door you shared a heated kiss goodbye.

It’s only been two months and you can’t get enough of him. He still gives you butterflies and his touch feels electric. You spend almost every day with him one way or another.

His body is plastered behind yours as you lay on your side. His hand grips your soft stomach as he slowly thrust into you. This has been a normal way you’ve been waking up with him. You found out very early on that Wonwoo is quite fond of morning sex. Waking up with Wonwoo erection poking your stomach gave you an idea of how your morning was going to go. It didn’t take him long for him to slip off your underwear and push your oversized shirt up. You can’t help but question why you even try to sleep wearing clothes when Wonwoo is in your bed.

Pushing your hips back you can’t help but gasp at how deep he’s hitting. This is one of your favorite positions with him. He’s so big that when he’s behind you he feels like he’s going extra deep.

“Baby,” he moans your latest nickname he’s started calling you.

Everything about Wonwoo is perfect. Even his body is perfect. His wide shoulders and slim waist, and his dick is the biggest you’ve ever had. You don’t know how you’ll repay Mingyu for basically setting you up.

Wonwoo falls apart filling you to the brim. You learned early on that Wonwoo loves fucking you raw and has a fascination with coming inside you. Sometimes you wonder if he's trying to get you pregnant.

Sitting on his knees between your legs he watches intently as his cum drips out of you. His finger slowly scoops some up before pushing it back inside of you.

“You know you're the first man I have been with who seems obsessed with coming inside me,” you tease.

“Does it make me territorial!?” He smiles.

“Possibly, but you don’t try to dom me while you do it.” Your hand glides down your stomach and slowly dips through your fold smearing around his release.

“Do you want me dom you?” He asked, arching his eyebrow.

“Not really. I like the way things are with us.”

“That’s good because this is about as kinky as I get,” he laughs crawling off the bed. He disappears into your bathroom that’s connected to your room. He comes back holding a warm washcloth. Gently he wipes away the mess that you’ve both made.

“I think you’re kinkier than you give yourself credit for. You definitely like to overstimulate me. You also are definitely obsessed with my boobs.”

He walks over to the nightstand putting on his glasses. Shaking his head, “and you’re obsessed with me fucking you while I have my glasses on.”

“Who can blame a girl?” You slowly sit up. He presses his lips to yours for a soft kiss. “Oh we can’t forget the time you thought it would be fun to edge me.”

“Has Wonwoo convinced you to go to Seungcheol's birthday tonight yet?” Mingyu says sitting a cup of coffee down in front of you.

Going to events with Wonwoo’s friend group still felt odd to you. You weren’t used to a man proudly wanting to take you to things.

Before you started dating the man who has been stealing your heart, you didn’t realize you have a few mutual friends. Before your first meeting you had Mingyu mention Wonwoo’s name a few times. It turns out you and Wonwoo had a few mutual friends. One of them is your coworker Mingyu and the other two are friends from college Vernon and Sweetie. The latter who is now dating another friend from the boys’ friend group Soonyoung.

“Has my boyfriend recruited you to help convince me?” You take a sip of your iced coffee. Seungcheol birthday party has been a conversation with your boyfriend for over a week.

“He mentioned a couple times that you felt awkward going,” he sits down in the chair in front of your desk.

“I’m awkward in social settings. Hell I never went out with anyone from work until that night a couple months ago when you convinced me.” You we’re quite the homebody before you started working with Mingyu. Back in college you really only had two friends: your roommate at the time, sweetie and her best friend Vernon.

“And look what happened you went out and I got you a boyfriend,” he smiles. Mingyu is never going to stop bragging about the fact that he successfully set up you and Wonwoo.

“I guess I don’t need to go out again since I got myself a boyfriend. I only need one. I don't need to go try to find a second one.”

The eye roll he gives you makes you feel like you’re winning this conversation. “Very funny. (YN) just go to the party. It’s just a get together on the rooftop of Seungcheol and Shau’s place. We’re not going clubbing or anything.”

“Why do you and Wonwoo want me to go so badly?”

“Because your boyfriend wants to be able to show you off. Wonwoo wasn’t really a relationship guy before you. Let him be the doting boyfriend he loves to be with you.” It seems like both you and Wonwoo we’re fine on your own before you met.

“Are you going to bring any one?” You attempt to change the subject.

Leaning back in his chair he suddenly seems shy. “I have a friend who might come with me.”

“Is this certain friend a girl who works at your favorite coffee place.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” you smile before taking a drink of your coffee. “Has she ridden on your motorcycle yet?”

A smile pulls at his lips, “maybe.”

You’ve been home from work for about an hour before Wonwoo lets himself into your apartment. He finds you sitting on your couch with your laptop looking at a book manuscript.

He looks extremely hot with little effort. He’s wearing jeans, a tight fitting white shirt and a leather jacket. It’s clear by the helmet in hand he rode his motorcycle over.

“Hi,” you close your laptop.

He doesn’t say anything, he walks over and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss.

“I thought I would stop by before heading to Cheol’s birthday.”

“Did you miss me already,” you tease.

“I always miss you.” He pulls away sitting his helmet on the coffee table.

“You just saw me this morning.”

“Maybe that’s too long ago for me,” he sits down next to you.

“How can I get you to go to Cheol’s party with me?” With the amount of times he’s brought up this party it’s clear it's important to him. You’re starting to feel selfish for giving him such a hard time about it. When it comes to being in a relationship with him you know you both need to compromise sometimes.

“You really want me to go, huh?”

“It would be the first time most of the group is together and I would like to introduce you to more people.” He pushes his fingers through his hair. “Also a few of the guys Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Shau’s girlfriends will all be there.”

“I'm already friends with Soonyoung and his girlfriend. Are we forgetting she was my college roommate?”

“Just humor me and come. Please.”

“Do you have a second helmet or are we taking a cab to Cheol’s?”

“Let’s take cab so you can wear one of your cute little dresses.”

Parties and get together we’re never your favorite situation to be in. Things don’t feel as overwhelming when Wonwoo is holding your hand through it all.

All of Wonwoo’s friends are nice and they all seem very excited to get to know you.

Jeonghan went on a rant telling you how Wonwoo talks about you all the time at work. You feel your cheeks burn as you hear about all the kind things your boyfriend says about you.

Mingyu arrives at the party with a pretty girl. You assume it’s the girl you’ve heard him talk about. Anytime he’s ever mentioned her he sounds absolutely smitten.

“I think that girl with Mingyu might actually make him change his ways,” Wonwoo whispers in your ear. You’ve through working with Mingyu, and from dating his best friend/roommate that Mingyu isn’t normally the dating type. He likes to love and leave them. Most of his relationships seem to be only sexual.

“He looks happy,” you say.

“He is. Maybe he’ll find what we have,” he kisses your temple. “I’m going to get a drink. Why don’t you talk Vernon?”

Your boyfriend heads off to the table that is set up as a makeshift bar. Walking over to the edge that looks out onto the city. Vernon is standing there with a red cup in his hand. He seems lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Vernon looks up at you before taking a sip of his drink.

“Do you ever think that you’re destined to be with someone?”

You’ve been thinking about this a lot recently. Your opinions on it now are drastically different then they would have been at the beginning of the year. “You know if you would have asked me this three months ago I would have said no. But since meeting Wonwoo I feel like a part of me has always been missing before him. He makes me feel whole in a way I didn’t even know was possible.”

He leans back against the rail, “sounds like you’re in love.”

“I’ve been in love before, but nothing has ever felt like this.”

Vernon gives you a smile before taking another drink. “Sounds to me like maybe Wonwoo is your soulmate.”

That word has been floating around in your head for over a month. At the rate you fell in love with Wonwoo it didn’t feel real. Before him you were perfectly fine being alone. But somehow he changed everything.”

“Maybe he is,” looking over at the bar area you find him smiling while he’s listening to Joshua and Jun tell him something. You love when he smiles and makes your heart flutter. “I think I need to tell him I love him.”

“Have you guys not said the big L word?”

“Not yet. I think I will tonight.”

Vernon has always been someone special to you. He always seemed to understand more than any of your friends. “Why did you ask about being destined to be with someone?”

“It’s nothing,” he looks down at his feet.

“Vernon, just tell me.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, “I used to think I was destined to be with Sweetie back in college. But like clearly that didn’t work out and it’s a good thing it didn’t because her and Soonyoung are so happy,” he looks off into the corner where Soonyoung and his girlfriend are clearly having an intimate conversation. “I always cared about her and I definitely loved her back then, but there is someone else now.”

“The neighbor girl?” You’ve heard him mention the girl who lived across from him, Chan, and Seokmin. He just nods. “Is she still with that guy?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on her,” he sighs. “I found her crying outside her apartment again yesterday.”

“Have you guys gotten closer?”

“Yeah. I can’t really keep my feelings out of it either.”

“Have you thought about telling her? Maybe it would give her a reason to leave him.”

“It’s crossed my mind.”

Wonwoo walks up behind pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Hey Vernon.” He reaches over patting Vernon on the shoulder.

“Hey Wonwoo. I’m gonna give you guys a minute.” Vernon instantly excuses himself.

“Is he okay?” Wonwoo asked.

“I think he will be.” You can’t help but be sad for Vernon. He hasn’t exactly been the luckiest when it comes to the dating department.

Wonwoo hands you a red cup with what looks like beer in it. Staring at him watching as he takes a sip you feel like a college girl drinking beer out of plastic cups with the boy she’s fascinated with.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah baby?” He gives you that same smile that melts you every time.

“I love you.” Normally you would be terrified to say those words first, but with Wonwoo you’re anything but scared.

“That’s good, because I’m head over heels for you,” he steps closer to you. Leaning down presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss.

“Does that mean you love me?” You want to hear him say those three little words.

“I absolutely love you.”

You lean forward and kiss him again. You won’t ever get enough of the feeling of his lips on yours. Wrapping his arms around you he holds you close. There is something so warm and safe about being in his arms.

He releases you from his hold and leans down pressing his lips to your again.

“I need to use the restroom,” you want to get Wonwoo alone away from all his friends for a few moments.

“It’s downstairs in Cheol’s place.”

“I really need you to go with me,” you lace your fingers with his.

“Oh, I’m assuming you don’t need to pee?”

“Not at all.”

Bent over the sink he slowly thrust into you. Glancing up into the mirror, your eyes focus on Wonwoo reflection. The site of his hair a little messy and his glasses on as he fucks you turns you on even more. Strong hands grip your hip as he thrust into you quickly.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he groans. Reaching around he takes one of your boobs in his hands. You learned very early on that Wonwoo has an obsession with your boobs. He loves playing with them while you fuck.

“You’re doing so good for me,” his praises do nothing but spur you on. “You take me so well.”

“Fuck- you feel so good,” you quitely whine.

His hips snap into yours at a quick pace. He’s normally not this quick or rough, but doing this in Seungcheol’s apartment bathroom while everyone is up on the rooftop means he can’t take his time with you.

“I love you,” you moan.

“Say it again,” he continues thrusting into you.

“I love you Wonwoo.”

Putting your hand over your mouth you desperately try to muffle your moans. Everyone might be up on the roof top but you don’t want to risk someone coming into the apartment and hearing what you and your boyfriend are doing. They don’t need to hear you screaming because he’s absolutely railing you in the bathroom.

“I love you,” he moans.

“Harder,” you moan.

He snaps his hips even harder than before. If you weren’t bent over the counter he might knock you over with how hard he’s thrusting into you. Grabbing your bicep he lifts you up so you’re flush against him as his hips thrust into you. His hand slides push the straps of your dress down to access your breast. He squeezes tightly playing with your taunt nipple.

“Baby,” you whimper.

“Fuck-“

You normally like to look at him during sex but he’s hitting inside you so incredibly deep you’re practically seeing stars.

Fall apart together moaning each other's name. He rolls his hips slowly helping you ride out your high while he paints your inside walls white.

“Maybe coming inside me wasn’t a good idea at a party.”

Slowly he pulls out leaving you feeling empty. Your hand reaches down to your core where his cum is already leaking out. He stands there blissed out staring at you. He dips his finger through your slit picking up some of his release. He holds it up to your mouth and without even thinking you lick it off his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“Maybe we should clean me up, so everyone doesn’t know fucked in the birthday boy’s bathroom.” You say earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

Going back up to the rooftop you try to act like nothing happened downstairs with you and Wonwoo. You let him hold your hand taking you around the party talking to all of his friends. Even though you don’t like parties or anything like that you realize you’ll go to any of them with Wonwoo because you know that makes him happy. You honestly will do anything for him if it will make him happy.

Laying in bed you look over at Wonwoo. He’s adjusting his glasses as he reads something on his phone.

“Wonwoo?”

“Baby?”

“I might sound crazy, but I think you’re my soulmate. I haven’t ever loved anyone like I love you.”

He sets his phone down and gives you a smile, “I thought I was crazy too. I definitely love you more then anyone I have ever loved before.”

“I feel like you have my heart, body, and soul,” you say.

“You have stolen every part of my existence,” he leans over, pressing his lips to yours for a heated kiss. The longer you’re with him the more you realize he is truly the king of your heart, body, and soul.

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wildflowersandvibranium · 2 months ago

Text

Waltzing Rescue

Pairing: 40s Husband!Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: While raining cats and dogs outside bucky spends a perfect evening with the love of his life , and the light of his life. Ft alpine iykyk

Word count: 1.8k+

Content: nothing!! Fluff Fluff more Fluff , Kissing , you and bucky have a daughter , set in 1940s/50s , no hydra bucky survives train fall!

A/N: after all the angst here’s my apology but don’t worry more angst coming for all the angst lovers ;) TYY for every reblog comment like! It means the world as always 💖🌷

The storm rolled in quickly that evening , pouring thick sheets of rain as it hammered down on the rooftops of Brooklyn like earth had a score to settle and was winning.

Streets glistened silvery-black beneath flickering lamplight , puddles swallowing boots and tires alike. But Bucky Barnes wasn't in a rush.

Just escaping the tiring day of his job. The brunette had something precious tucked beneath his coat lapel.

The tiny thing had been crying out under a fire escape , soaked to the bone , shivering and no bigger than a teacup. Fur like cream now a muddy grey.

Eyes a deep stormy blue looking up at the matching pair.

He didn’t think twice , just scooped the kitten up and stuffed it under his jacket , right against his undershirt where it could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

By the time he pushed open the front door of the Barnes’ brownstone , he was soggy , completely drenched. Hat dripping , coat soaked clean through , a puddle forming beneath his brown brogues.

“Sweetheart?” he called into the hum of home.

The warmth hit him first , the crackling fire still ablaze and alive from when he first left that morning.

That, and the smell of a home cooked supper . Meatloaf and gravy , biscuits fresh from the oven , as always .

A quiet melody swirled from the record player in the living room filling the home — something smooth , something soft , but the real music was the sound of your voice.

“In the kitchen , Hun! And don't forget to wipe your feet , Barnes!”

He grinned widely to himself . His name. Now-also yours. He liked when you used it. Made him feel like he was home.

With careful hands , he peeled off his coat and hat , setting them on the hook just in the entry of the house , before gently cupping the damp little kitten and holding her close to his chest. As he cooed promising her she was safe.

You appeared in the doorway, wiping your hands on a floral printed apron covered in flour from your dinner prep.

“What in the —?” you began , brows knitted together staring at your husband holding a little ball of damp fur.

“She was out in the rain,” Bucky spoke , giving you a lopsided smile.

“Couldn’t just leave her. Look at ‘er. You ever seen somethin’ so pitiful?”

The kitten blinked slowly , meowing once-turned into a silent yawn before burrowing into the crook of his arm.

You sighed, shaking your head , exasperated but already melting at the sight and now story. “Put her by the burner. It's still hot , it'll warm her right up. Im’a go find find some milk.”

He stepped inside, leaving a few damp footprints on the wooden kitchen floor.

“James , dear , your socks,” you warned with a smile.

“I know, I know, I’ll mop it up .” He gently placed the kitten in a small basket near the burner , padding it with one of Maggie’s old baby blankets she's now too grown for. “There ya go, sweet girl”

As if understanding his words , the kitten gave a grateful sigh and curled up against the fleece.

The kitchen now smelled like heaven on earth . You were spooning mashed potatoes onto the green ceramic plates when the sound of feet pattering overhead reached both your ears.

Margaret or Maggie as you both affectionately called her.

Before either of you could call up the stairs for her to slow down , the thumps turned into a quick patter down the hallway — and then there she was: three-years-old , hair wild and dimpled cheeks , dragging her stuffed white fluffy wolf her dad got her when she turned two , by the tip of its tail.

“Daddy!” she shrieked , making a beeline for him , her voice still rounded by toddler babble.

Bucky crouched just in time to catch her mid-leap , lifting her high in the air as she squealed and threw her arms around his neck.

“Hey there , baby doll!” he laughed , twirling her once , braid whipping around before tucking her under his chin. “Miss me?”

She nodded against his chest , then pulled back , wide-eyed nose scrunched , just like he did when he laughed- it melted your heart seeing the resemblance of the pair.. “You wet, Daddy.” she squeaked, pushing back off his chest , still in his firm hold.

“Don't I know it , rained like cats and dogs .”

He winked at you over Maggie’s head. “Even brought home one of the cats.”

“Where at daddy?” she asked with big eyes searching.

“She's sleeping right now warmin’ up , but you can see her after supper.”

He replied , swaying them gently to the rhythm to the song currently playing.

As you set the plates on the table, the record in the parlor changed , a new song drifting in , smooth saxophone and velvet like vocals .

It was Maggie’s favorite. You didn’t know why she’d chosen it , but every time it came on , her eyes lit up.

Sure enough, she gasped. “Dance song!”

Bucky grinned, already knowing what came next.

“You wanna dance, baby?”

“Yes dance , Daddy,” she demanded, pointing toward the living room.

“Well , you heard her,” he said, casting you a look of mock defeat as he swung her onto his hip. “Anything for my best gal.”

He carried her into the parlor and gently set her down — then placed her chubby little feet on top of his leather shoes , like they’d done a dozen times before.

She held onto his thumbs , her cherub-like hands only fitting one of his inside her grasp. She had a wide smile showing her tiny teeth , and let out a delighted giggle as he started to sway them.

They danced slowly , like it was the most important moment in the world.

For him it was. His girl choosing to dance with him will be the biggest gift he could ever receive.

You leaned against the doorframe , watching the love of your life twirl the light of your life that you’d made together in your shared love.

They continued just like that , in the golden lamp light of a stormy evening. The kitten purred quietly by the stove. The room smelled like love biscuits and safety.

“Daddy,” Maggie mumbled, resting her cheek against his middle. “You so tall.”

He chuckled, voice low. “That’s ‘cause you’re small , doll.”

“You my best friend,” she added, closing her heavy eyelids as they continued swaying gently.

Your throat tightened. And Bucky's eyes , instantly glassy.

He looked up at you , eyes full of something deep , full and aching in the best way. The kind of love that only came after war. After survival.

You beamed at him , brushing a tear from your cheek.

Oh how you two were the luckiest.

Later, after dinner , after dancing , Bucky carried Maggie upstairs. She’d fallen asleep halfway through telling them a story about seeing a squirrel splash in a puddle in the street making you both laugh.

She curled up against his side like a kitten herself. Warm and at peace.

He laid her gently in her small bed , brushing a lock of her chestnut hair from her forehead and pulling up the quilt you had made her when you were still pregnant with her.

Then he stayed there a moment longer, hand resting on her back as she breathed slow and deep. At rest.

When he came back down the stairs , the storm had quieted to a whisper against the windows. You were in the parlor, folding a blanket over the kitten’s basket.

He crossed the room in slow steps , you began to say something but were cut off by him taking your face in both hands , and kissing you , long and sweet.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling back enough to see in your eyes the same ones he fell in love with , and now the same ones that sparkle at him through your daughter , his thumb brushing your cheek gently as he spoke. Sincere–

“For this life. For her. For you.”

You cupped his face right back, feeling the slight scratch of his overgrown stubble , the warmth of his strong jaw.

“You’re home now,” you murmured softly. “You don’t have to thank me for something we built together.”

He exhaled, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I’ll still say it. Every day if I have to and even that won't barely express the love I have for you and our baby girl.”

You smiled. “Well, that’s mighty sweet of you , sergeant.”

He chuckled. “You think the kitten’ll stick? Maggie is already obsessed and i might have some names picked out. ” He smiled sheepishly

“She hasn’t moved in an hour, Buck.”

“I was talkin’ ‘bout you. You think you’ll stick with me and keep her?”

You wrapped your arms around his waist. “With you…always , but maybe talk to me before bringing any other strays in , alright?”

“Hey , you let me in now didn't ya?” he grinned that lopsided smile that never failed to make butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“I did , best darn thing I ever did , besides maggie.” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft peck.

The kitten stretched in her sleep. Upstairs, Maggie murmured in her dreamy state.

And James Bucky Barnes , home from the war, kissing his wife slowly and lovingly as thunder rolled soft in the distance — wrapped in the smell of baked bread , the warmth of hearth , and a kind of happiness no army nor calling could ever take from him.

-end

Comments , Reblogs , Likes and Requests are always loved!

(although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience)

They let me know that you are enjoying what I'm publishing and gives me motivation to write more and more! :33

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #writing #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes pov #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky x reader #wildflowersandvibranium #the winter soldier #40s bucky barnes x reader #fluff Bucky Barnes #husband bucky barnes #dad bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n

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bettys-redwinesupernova · 6 months ago

Text

THIS WAS A PRANK?!

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict readers’ appearance !!)

SUMMARY: y/n pulls her family into a trending prank where you pretend to embarrass your partner in front of your family…i wonder how drew reacts?

based on this ask!! i really hope you enjoy this @xoxosblogsblog , and i hope it’s what you asked for <3

WARNINGS: i think maybe one curse word?, just pure fluff really, me crying because i used ‘mom’ instead of mum because they’re american </3 (lmk if i missed anything!)

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SECOND PERSON +

Drew always tried his best to make a good impression on your parents. Even after three years of dating you, meeting them countless times, and attending every family barbecue or holiday dinner you invited him to, Drew still got a little nervous around them. You found it sweet, honestly—how this confident, charming actor, adored by fans worldwide, could still feel the need to impress your mom and dad.

You were currently spending the week at your parents' house, a cozy rural home in Vermont that felt like a world away from the bustling chaos of Los Angeles where you and Drew lived.

Drew had taken the week off from filming to join you, and so far, everything had been going smoothly. That was, until you saw a TikTok prank trend earlier that morning.

The prank was simple: embarrass your partner in front of your family by saying outrageous things and watch them squirm. You couldn't resist. Drew had pulled plenty of pranks on you in the past, and this felt like the perfect opportunity for some playful payback.

While Drew was in the shower, you shared your plan with your parents.

"Are you sure he's going to find it funny?" your mom asked, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, he will," you grinned. "Eventually. After he panics a little bit."

Your dad chuckled. "I'm in. But I'm not holding back—I'll really sell it."

Your mom rolled her eyes fondly. "You two are terrible."

"We'll keep it harmless," you promised.

By the time Drew emerged from the shower, fresh and smiling in a casual hoodie and jeans, you were ready to set your plan in motion.

The four of you were gathered around the dining table, enjoying your mom's homemade lasagna—a dish Drew had raved about during every visit. You decided to start small.

"You know," you said casually, "Drew actually told me he doesn't like your cooking, Mom. He says it's too... plain."

Your mom froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Really?" she asked, her tone clipped.

Drew's head whipped toward you so fast you thought he might get whiplash. His eyes widened. "What? No! That's not true at all! I love your cooking!"

"Hmm," your mom said, narrowing her eyes. "That's funny, because you always seem to clean your plate."

"Exactly!" Drew said quickly, holding up his hands. "I do, because it's amazing! I don't know what Y/N's talking about. I would never say that!"

You bit back a grin and focused on your lasagna, mumbling, "If you say so."

Drew shot you a bewildered look, his brow furrowing. You could tell he wanted to press you on it, but he let it go—for now.

Later that evening, the four of you were in the living room watching a football game. Your dad had always been a big fan, and Drew had made it a point to bond with him over it.

"He doesn't actually like football, Dad," you said offhandedly during a commercial break. "He told me it's boring."

The room went silent.

"What?" your dad asked, turning to Drew with a stern expression.

"No, no, no!" Drew stammered, his cheeks flushing. "I never said that! I love football! We've watched games together! We’re both huge fans of the Kansas City Chiefs!"

"You mean the team you pretended to like just to get on my good side?" your dad said, raising an eyebrow.

Drew looked like a deer caught in headlights. "No, I swear, I really like them! I even looked up their stats before we came here so I could keep up!"

Your dad folded his arms, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I thought we had something, Drew."

"I—Mr. Y/L/N—I mean, sir—I promise, I'm not lying!" Drew's voice grew more frantic, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

When your dad turned back to the game with a dramatic sigh, Drew leaned over to you. "What's going on?" he whispered.

You shrugged innocently. "I don't know what you mean."

The final straw came later that night when you were all sitting around the kitchen island, enjoying dessert.

"Mom," you said with a sigh, "Drew said he's still hungry. He wants you to make him something else."

Drew nearly choked on his forkful of pie. "What?! No, I didn't!"

Your mom gave him a sweet but pointed smile. "Well, Drew, if you don't like the pie, I suppose I could whip something else up for you."

"I love the pie!" Drew insisted, looking panicked. "I never said that! Y/N, why are you doing this?"

You shrugged again, fighting the urge to burst out laughing.

When your parents finally went their separate ways—your dad retreating to the living room and your mom heading upstairs to fold laundry—Drew cornered you in the kitchen.

"Okay," he said, crossing his arms. "What is going on?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, feigning innocence.

"Don't give me that," he said, narrowing his eyes. "You've been throwing me under the bus all day. First the cooking thing, then football, now this? I swear I didn't say any of those things!"

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Hmm, maybe you did, and you just don't remember."

"Y/N," Drew said firmly, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice now. "Are you messing with me?"

Before you could answer, your parents reappeared in the doorway, both looking serious.

"We need to talk," your dad said, crossing his arms.

Drew paled. "About what?"

"About all these things Y/N's been saying," your mom added. "We just want to know if there's something you need to get off your chest."

"I—I don't know what she's talking about!" Drew stammered, his hands flailing as he tried to explain himself. "I love your cooking, Ms. Y/L/N and sir, I love football, and I would never ask you to make me more food! I swear!"

That was it. You couldn't hold it in any longer. You burst out laughing, doubling over as tears streamed down your face. Your mom quickly followed, and even your dad cracked a smile.

Drew stared at you all, realisation dawning on his face. "Wait... this was a prank?!"

"It was a TikTok trend!" you gasped, clutching your stomach. "I had to try it!"

Your mom patted Drew on the shoulder. "We're sorry, Drew. It was all in good fun."

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I can't believe you all ganged up on me."

"You've pulled worse pranks on me," you reminded him, wiping your eyes.

"Fair point," he admitted, pulling you into a playful headlock. "But don't think you're getting away with this. I'm going to get you back."

"I'd like to see you try," you teased, grinning up at him.

As Drew laughed along with your parents, you couldn't help but think how lucky you were to have someone who fit so seamlessly into your family—even if he was already plotting his revenge.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such an adorable one :’)) i really hope you enjoyed it my lovely !!

i’m still trying to figure out a master list, so fingers crossed i’ll have it up tonight !! but for now, you can click on my personalised tags to access my fics <3

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated !! <3

#bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#drew starkey #outer banks #fluff #obx #bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey obx #drew starkey outer banks #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey imagine

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aurynsia · 8 months ago

Note

what would be the life after hogwarts for james and reader? i can just imagine james thinking of the best ring he could give reader to ask her to marry him, or even like thinking of where they should live in.

Life After Hogwarts

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James won’t settle for anything less than perfect for his perfect girl...

Warnings: Intense fluff, Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, James is just a good hearted rich boy who wants the best for his partner <3

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this as a sequel to this series, but it can just as easily be read as a stand alone oneshot. Enjoy!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Pads, please focus here. This is serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius, born and raised! Are you sure you aren’t feeling lightheaded, Prongs?”

James and Sirius stood bent over the cabinet of delicate rings, the latter struggling to free himself from a ring size too small. James huffed in frustration, brows furrowed in contemplation as he glanced across the display one last time.

“None of them feel right, I’m telling you! We‘ll just have to find somewhere else, she won’t like how flashy all of these diamonds are,” James sulked and grumbled as Sirius finally eased the ring off of his nimble finger.

“Prongs, this is the fifth jeweller we’ve been to in the past four hours. Merlin, the sun is already setting and you haven’t even considered a single one of the more than acceptable rings we’ve looked at!”

Sirius scrambled to chase James out of the store, pace quickened along the damp concrete of the sidewalk.

“It needs to be perfect, she’s perfect. I will settle for no less.” James held his head high, nose turned upwards at the raven haired boy who grew visibly sluggish with every step.

Sirius groaned, only following his bespectacled friend for another quick moment before James stopped abruptly at a pawn shop window, eyes bursting wide with hope.

The ring in the window shone elegantly against the store’s harsh light. The metal twisted and turned in a smooth curve that was sure to make your skin glow radiantly in contrast. It was understated, with only the minor details in the engravings making a quiet display of the mountain of money James was about to spend.

“That’s the one. It’s perfect.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The cool breeze wrapped around the Potter’s summer house with ease, pressing against your skin to form goosebumps along the soft surface.

James had been acting strangely all day, almost avoiding you at every turn of the house’s walls like his life depended on it. He fiddled with his fingers, stuttered out his words and blushed at every subtle sound of amusement you made.

Finally relaxing into your side, James sheltered you from the wind with his body on his family’s beach-side deck. Your evening beverage was pressed between your legs, freeing your hands to run soothing circles over your boyfriend’s back.

His eyes clenched shut, head growing wrinkles as he sought his trademark courage that seemed to all but disappear the moment you were near.

Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his body from your warmth, flashing you a sympathetic smile to compensate for the absolute fool he was about to make of himself.

“Love, I- you mean the world to me…” he turned to face you. “These past years with you have made for some of the happiest moments I’ve ever experienced…” he shifted to lift up onto his knees, gazing down at your curious expression.

“I love you so, so much. I loved you when I first met you, the shy girl on the Hogwarts express. I loved you when we started dating, all smiles over candle lit dinners, and…” He moved again, down on one knee. “I want to keep loving you when you marry me.”

You gasped at the genuine glaze of his soft brown eyes, his lean towards your stationary body, and the ring sat in his grasp, shrouded by a velvet box.

He coughed slightly at the awkward atmosphere, repeating himself with clarity. “Will you…marry me?”

“Godric, James- yes!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Fleamont Potter was showering his son with engagement gifts. James never had any reason to complain about his family or economic situation, and to say he grew up comfortably would be a drastic understatement.

House hunting was James’ first protocol after his successful proposal. He had patiently listened to you ramble about your dream house for years, trying to stay focused under your captivating gaze and endearing energy. Big windows, lots of light, and a burning fireplace.

That’s exactly what James was searching for as he strolled down the streets of Godric’s Hollow. He had inspected every single house he could find, taken or not. The day was wearing out, washing lines already dried under the subtle summer heat.

His gaze fell in a wave of sluggish fatigue, only to be snapped open by the sight of a Southern-style mansion positioned right on the edge of Godric’s Hollow, towering over the sidewalk. The house was decorated with shutters and balconies, as well as a small red sign in the front yard.

FOR SALE.

He rushed to the front door, conveniently propped open. “It’s a beautiful place, really, but we’re after something a little more…modern.” A family glided past James in a pack, concluding what he could only assume to be a tour of the house.

The estate agent fixed his tie as he bid farewell to the family, promising something about searching closer to the city the following week. He spun around to find James gawking eagerly at the front door, before clearing his throat to gain the young Potter’s attention.

“Would you like a tour?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James flashed you a smug smile as you gazed in awe at the intricate architecture of your new townhouse. You were perched on the front lawn, tucked into James’ side with his hand on the small of your back.

“It’s so beautiful…” you mused wistfully, gaze drawn to the rustic tiles on the roof like sunflowers to the sun. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, I mean- this must have been an absolute pain to buy…” you finally tilted your gaze to see James peering over you, a lovesick longing painted on his features.

“Love, my father knows people - too many to count - who were more than happy to help with this little engagement gift,” he chuckled, eyes still locked on yours. “When I saw this house for the first time…it was calling your name. Our names.”

The house was big enough to hold a few kids and some small pets - clearly too big for just you and James, but he hoped that your family would fill it out in the coming years. There needed to be room for at least one big black dog.

Still uncertain, you gave James a sceptical look. “It was no trouble, really.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he drove you through the open door by your shoulders.

You stumbled through each room, captivated by the warmth in every corner you turned to. James was hot on your heels, guiding you by your waist every now and then to show you specific features of the kitchen, the bathrooms and the already decorated master bedroom.

You jumped onto the bed with glee, warmth engulfing you under your body.

“Jamie…it’s perfect…” you mused, eyes shut as you felt the bed dip with your Fiancée’s weight, who shifted to kiss your forehead with care.

“You’re perfect, love.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

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yanderedrabbles · 7 months ago

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✨Kicking my feet and twirling my hair thinking about what cozy basement set up boyfriend would have for me!✨

What are your OCs homes like anyway? Do they like certain decor? Does it smell a particular way? Trinkets lying around?

Yandere boys and their homes

Yandere! Cowboy keeps his boots by the door and his old ropes stacked in the entryway. Definitely a whitewashed farmhouse with an old wraparound porch. There's an old deer skull above the fireplace and a couple of hunting rifles on the wall. He likes the view and most mornings he'll drink his coffee with his elbows resting on the porch railing. He likes it when you pick wild flowers and leave them in vases around the house, but he'll never actually tell you that.

Yandere! Soldier's current apartment is pretty old, probably built back in the Soviet era. He doesn't really keep stuff around - he's always moving and being deployed so he doesn't see the point in keeping trinkets. If it wasn't for you, he'd be perfectly fine sleeping in the barracks. Function over everything.

Yandere! Boyfriend's place is honestly pretty cozy. He keeps plenty of throw pillows and afghan blankets. Lots of wooden furniture - most of it he made himself. It's a pretty manly place, but without being overwhelming. Usually smells like vanilla and fresh baked bread. His basement is totally remodelled, with genuine hardwood floors and fairy lights strung across the beams. It's the perfect place to curl up and watch a horror movie, if you ignore the heavy duty locks on the door.

Yandere! State Trooper is pretty young so his apartment is a bit of a mess. He has police gear dumped all over the place. Mostly Ikea style furniture, modern if a bit bland. The only thing he really added was a hook on his headboard to loop your handcuffs through - he can't have you struggling too much and disturbing the neighbours, now can he?

Yandere! Cop for sure has a bachelor apartment with just a bedroom and kitchen. Very neat and clean but pretty boring. It's one of those newly built places with lots of marble and millennial grey. Besides, he's way more interested in buying you whatever you want for your place. His single piece of decor is a scented candle you gave him. He sometimes lights it after a really long day.

Yandere! Gangster has a shitty New York apartment for sure, exposed brick and one of those noisy old fashioned radiators. It's clean but cluttered and there's basically only two rooms. And the worst part? Rent is still ridiculously high.

Yandere! Incubus has a cell in the abbey. It's almost too neat. Almost like it's not lived in. There's a crucifix above his bed and an uncracked bible on the nightstand. His one concession is his collection of dried flowers. Don't touch - they're all poisonous.

Yandere! Desert Bandit is nomadic and needs to move quickly from one hideout to another. He usually stays in a bayt-al-shar with woven rugs on the floor and oil lanterns burning in the corners. It's much larger than you'd expect and surprisingly warm, even through the icy desert nights. It smells of wood smoke and oud.

Yandere! Academic Rival is a thrift hoe and he knows it. Lots of antiques. He especially loves furniture with plenty of engraving or detailing. He either stays in an uptown penthouse or townhouse that his parents own. Spoiled litte brat.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor doesn't stay in one place for too long. And he usually picks places with very few entrances. So be prepared for lots of concrete rooms with boarded up windows.

Yandere! Greek Champion is always fighting, so expect everything from confiscated manor houses to canvas military tents. If he ever returns home, you'll find a villa stuffed with treasure from his conquests. Rare furs and rich tapestries and gleaming bronze urns, built with lots of marble columns and open balconies. He has his own bathhouse and he'll spend hours soaking in the steam, his muscles finally relaxing after months of battle.

#The Yandere Boys #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere x reader

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shrimpybbq · 8 months ago

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green thumb

synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.

The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.

Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.

Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.

When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.

"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.

"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.

"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"

When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.

"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.

"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"

He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.

Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.

“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.

The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.

“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.

“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.

“Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,

“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”

The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.

“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”

He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.

“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.

“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”

Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.

“Pinky promise, C.”

the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol

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professorsnape394 · 8 months ago

Text

Day 10: Dream Come True

Pairing: Severus Snape x ex-student

Rating: 🥵 ?

Prompt: Dream

Summary: Severus reunites with an old student of his and she is determined to live out her teenage dream.

A/N: Loved writing this one!! Hope ya'll have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

Warnings: ex-student and teacher hooking up.

Word Count: 3170

Credits to Gif Creator

Severus had always loathed Lucius Malfoy’s elaborate parties. He threw them multiple times a year, celebrating every possible occasion, and Severus almost always declined the invitation. While he would know most people in attendance, Snape wasn’t one to socialise and a party was his idea of literal hell. However, given that Lucius was the closest thing Severus had to a friend, he made a point to show face at one event each year; often staying for no longer than an hour or so and spending most of the time hauled up in the kitchen alone. Which is where he happened to find himself tonight.

Having already circulated the crowds earlier in the evening, Severus was simply buying time before he made his goodbyes and returned home to the peace of Spinner’s end. The drinks and food were set out on a banquet table in the drawing room of the manor, meaning he often had the kitchen entirely to himself to drink bottle after bottle of FireWhiskey alone.

This evening seemed to be following the same suit as usual, until his tranquillity was disturbed by the entrance of a familiar young woman and her absolutely foul mouth.

“Fucking disgusting shit. Who the fuck does he think I am. And why the hell is it blue?” She muttered to herself, staring deeply at the electric looking cocktail in her hand. She made a direct bee line for the sink and dumped the entire contents of her glass down the drain.

Severus couldn’t help but let out a small scoff of approval at the girl’s words. He, of course, recognised her from her time as a student at Hogwarts. Not only had he been the Head of her House, and Potion’s Master, he often found himself telling her off for her bad language at the risk losing points from the other professors. Severus himself didn’t mind it so much, in fact he found it rather amusing, which must explain why he was no where near as irritated as he usually would be by the disturbance.

“Professor Snape?”

The girl stopped in her tracks, eyeing the Potion’s Master appreciatively. Her tone had dropped to an almost sultry timbre.

Severus remembered now why he always seemed to be giving the girl into trouble. This particular young woman had not been nearly as discreet with her girlhood crush as she may have expected. It had been obvious to him that she acted out in his classes simply to get a rise out of him, and best-case scenario she would earn a detention, prolonging their time together. The latter Severus did not indulge, the last thing he needed was a hormonal teenager making heart eyes at him from across the classroom.

From the way she looked at him now, the young witch had yet to grow out of her school-girl crush. Feeling the effects of the sheet amount of alcohol he had consumed; Severus couldn’t resist raking his eyes over the woman’s figure in return. She was after all, no longer his student.

While her bad habits still remained, her appearance had changed a lot in a few short years. Her hair was longer now, darker too; she wore it down as she always had, allowing it to flow down her back like a waterfall of obsidian waves. Her previously baby face had been replaced by much sharper features; high cheek bones and a defined jaw line, lips that sat in a permanent perfect pout, painted a deep shade of red that only enticed him further. The dress she wore, tight and black, displayed her curves from ever possible angle, the lowcut neckline drawing his eyes to the exposed swell of her breasts.

“Miss Y/L/N.” He stated simply, not allowing his voice to betray his less than appropriate thoughts.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She sauntered toward him, swaying her hips with each step.

It wasn’t lost on her that her old professor had just been checking her out, in fact she welcomed it. Since her crush on him first developed in her fifth year, she had long since dreamed of running into him again after she graduated. It pleased her to know that now they were reunited, he seemed to appreciate her just as much as she did him.

“I could say the same for you.” He raised a single eyebrow at her, his eyes never leaving her body as she approached.

“Not sure why.” She shrugged, settling against the kitchen island opposite him. “I’ve been at every party this year. Draco keeps inviting me.”

“As his date?” The simple question drew a wide smile from Y/N.

Was Severus Snape jealous?

“I assume so. But if he keeps making me drinks that look like the result of a chemical reaction, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

Severus scoffed again, amused by her words.

Y/N watched as took a long sip of his whiskey, draining the remainder of his glass.

“What are you drinking?”

“FireWhiskey.” He said plainly.

“Mind if I join you?”

Severus glanced at the woman out the corner of his eye as she came to lean on the cabinet next time him.

“Be my guest. However, this is the last of this bottle.” He said, as he filled his glass. “I’m sure there’s more in the next room, if you feel like re-joining the party.”

“Not particularly.” She huffed, folding her arms over her chest only to further accentuate her breasts. “Draco’s been fallowing me around like a lost puppy all night, I could really use a break.”

“And if I asked you to leave?” He tested, pining her with a stern gaze.

“I’d say tough. You don’t own this space, I have just a much right to be here as you do.” She never had yielded to his dominance.

“Well then.” He outstretched his arm to her, offering up his renewed glass of whiskey. “You might as well enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

Y/N accepted with a smile and a wink. Severus remained stoic, attempting to seem unfazed by her gesture. Y/N always knew Severus would be a tough nut to crack if this day came. But after years of dealing with a pining Draco, she could use the challenge.

“Why are you hauled up in here anyway? Avoiding someone?”

“Everyone.”

Severus couldn’t peel his eyes away from her mouth as she drank form his glass, her crimson lips staining the rim of the crystal. He felt his pulse quicken when her tongue darted out to collect any remnants of the amber liquid from her lips.

“Everyone?” She looked at him inquisitively, returning the glass to him. “Then why come at all if all you’re going to do is hide away in here the whole night.”

“Lucius is a friend. The least I can do is show face, but beyond I have no interest in attending these infernal events. So, I simply wait it out in here until such time as it is appropriate to leave.”

“Does it never occur to you that had you to actually venture out into the crowds, you might meet someone to help pass the time. A woman perhaps?”

Severus laughed into his glass, being careful to avoid the spot her mouth had just been. He knew this was her way of testing him, unfortunately he couldn’t help but fall for her bait; hook, line and sinker.

“I have no interest in any of the woman beyond that door.” His eyes finally met hers, their intense gazes boring into one another. A challenge to make the first move.

“What about those within this room, professor.” Y/N dared to venture.

That final word shook Severus back to reality; the sudden realisation that he was entering dangerous territory with a former student had him eager to make a swift exit.

“I think that may be my queue to go.” He set his now empty glass back on the counter.

“Wait. Stay for one more.” She pleaded, gripping his bicep in one last desperate attempt. It worked, Severus hesitated at her touch.

“It may have escaped your notice, Miss Y/L/N, but not only is the bottle finished, but so too is my glass. There is no ‘one more’.”

“I know where Lucius keeps his private stash. Draco and I would break into it all the time when we were younger.”

Despite his brain telling him it was time to go, Snape couldn’t resist the appeal of the young woman in front of him; her doe like eyes begging him to stay. It was obvious she was just as enticed by him as he was of her. And the fact remained; she was no longer his student. Still, it seemed wrong somehow.

“That would explain all those parties in the Slytherin common room I was forced to disband.” Severus raised a questioning brow.

“Guilty.” She smirked.

“You know those were the bane of my life. Dealing with drunk and hungover underage students wasn’t exactly how I planned to spend my weekends.”

“Just be grateful I was smart enough to avoid you, I can be quite the handful when I’m drunk.”

Severus didn’t know when she had gotten close to him again, but he wasn’t opposed to the way her hand rested on his chest as she fidgeted with the button of his robes.

“Show me.” He swallowed, nodding down to her.

Y/N led Severus through a door in the kitchen, to a wine cellar in the basement. In the corner of the room stood a solitary shelf of finely-aged whiskey, worth more than two teenagers could have even comprehended.

Snape watched on as the woman struggled to reach the top shelf where the best whiskey was kept. He made no attempt to look away when the hem of her dress began to slowly rise over the curve of her ass. He no longer felt so guilty checking her out down here in the dark.

“Clever girl.” Severus purred when Y/N handed him a dusty bottle for him to inspect. “These are what you stole?”

Y/N bit her lip and looked down guiltily.

“I don’t think we realised how expensive they were at the time. We just wanted to have a bit of fun.”

“Mmm. You always were trouble.” He eyed her once more.

“Still am.” She winked again.

Y/N led Severus back to the kitchen, leaving no trace of them behind besides the empty space on he shelf she had no intention of filling.

Despite the kitchen being full of glass and crystal ware, Severus opted to pour another singular glass for the two of them to share.

Y/N watched on fervently as Severus brought the glass to his lips, this time placing his mouth directly over where her lips had been. God, how she wished to know what his lips felt like on her, what he tasted like.

“Good?” She continued to look up at him, practically drooling now.

“Delicious.”

Y/N watched in awe as her ex-professor absent-mindedly run his tongue along a small part of the glass.

Without thought, Y/N brought a thumb to his mouth, brushing the pad gently across his bottom lip.

“Lipstick.” She explained. “Can’t have you leaving here looking like that, people will talk.”

“And what, exactly, will people say.” Severus closer to the young witch, his inhibitions slowly fading which each gulp of alcohol.

“They’d think you were with a woman.” She started, her voice now barely a whisper. “Of course, they wouldn’t know who at first. But seeing that colour on your lips, they’d begin to speculate. And when they saw me follow you out of here… We’ll they’d put two and two together, and jump to a whole lot of conclusions.”

“What sort of conclusions?” He passed the whiskey to her, allowing him to move closer still, their bodies close enough to touch.

“All kinds of things. The most obvious being that we kissed, but their minds wouldn’t stop there. Two people, alone in the kitchen at a party, we could have been up to anything in here.” With every word she spoke she drew Severus in closer, her lips calling to him like a siren to a sailor. “They’d assume we kissed. Maybe, we made out. But ultimately, they’re going to think we had sex. A teacher and his ex-student. How scandalous. There would be rumours about us; what we did in here. They’d say I seduced you with my body. They’d say you got me drunk. They’d say we fucked right here in the Malfoy’s kitchen, all while Draco searched the party for his supposed date.”

The mention of Draco began to boil Severus’ blood, he wasn’t oblivious to how close the pair were and he knew, if given the chance, Draco would have Y/N for his own. He wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Then let’s give them a reason to talk.” Severus stated firmly.

With his permission, Y/N threw herself at Severus. Her lips crashing to his hungrily. Like a starving hyena finally eating after being denied it’s prey for so long.

Practically throwing the whiskey glass aside, Y/N wrapped her arms around Severus’ neck, pulling her body closer to his. Severus felt his way around her; one hand coming to rest on the side of her face, the other gripping her rear possessively. The two became deaf to the world around them. Passion taking over as they devoured the other breathlessly.

Letting himself get carried away in the moment, it never occurred to Severus to move to a less public location. All sense of propriety gone with the taste of her lips.

Gripping her by her thighs, Severus lifted Y/N onto one of the kitchen cabinets, positioning himself between her open legs. Feeling the hardness of his cock at her core, Y/N let out a strangled moan.

Severus broke for breath, kissing his way down her exposed neck and chest, occasionally nipping at her pale white skin. Seconds before Snape was about to rip off the woman’s dress and fuck her in the middle of the kitchen island, footsteps and voices grew louder as they approached.

“Have you checked the kitchen, Draco? She can’t have gone far.”

“Not yet father, I’m just about to look.”

“Shit.”

“Fuck.” The pair swore in unison.

Y/N quickly jumped from her spot on the counter, making sure to right any clothing that may have gone awry. Severus let out a frustrated snarl at being torn away from Y/N.

“I’m going to kill that di-“

“Y/N?” Draco called out upon entering the room.

Neither Snape nor Y/N made an attempt to move away from the other.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry Draco.” Y/N replied through gritted teeth. “I ran into Professor Snape. We we’re just catching up.”

“I see.” The younger Malfoy eyed them suspiciously. “My father is about to make an announcement, he wants everyone to gather in the drawing room.”

“Of course.” She smiled falsely, making to meet Draco by the door.

“Here.” Severus stopped her, clenching his jaw and handing over the almost full glass of whiskey. “You’ll need it.”

“Thank you.” She grinned, lingering when his hand brushed against hers.

The three of them exited the kitchen and made their way through the manor; Severus taking a different route from the others, letting himself get lost in the crowd.

As soon as he was out of her sight, Y/N started to panic that she had missed her shot at the one thing she had been dreaming about since she was 15 years old. Draco had interrupted what was easily the hottest make out session of her life and now there seemed to be no chance of her and Snape actually finishing what they had started.

“What were you and Snape doing in the kitchen for so long?” Draco finally broke the awkward silence that had developed.

“Hmm. Oh, we we’re just having a drink together and chatted about all those times you and I pissed him off with our parties in the common room.”

“What are you drinking? What happened to the one I gave you?” He didn’t even seem to be listening to a word she was saying.

“Erm… I finished it. Sev- Snape poured me a glass of his whiskey.”

“That’s unusually kind of him.” Draco’s intense stare burned a hole in the side of her face.

“I suppose.” She shrugged. “I guess he just likes me.”

Draco didn’t get the chance to object before his father’s voice echoed through the room.

Zoning out after Lucius thanked everyone for coming, Y/N immediately began scanning the crowd for her beloved professor.

Having no luck even after the party commenced, Y/N downed the remains of her drink and followed Draco as he led her into the hall for a more private conversation. Backing her against the wall, Y/N had no way to escape the agony she was about to endure, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed.

“Y/N.” He began with a deep breath. “As you know, we’ve been best friends since our first day at Hogwarts. Our families have been intwined since before either of us were even born. We’ve had our fair share of fun together; both as friends and otherwise.” He hinted towards the few drunken nights where they had casually hooked up. It had meant nothing to Y/N, clearly Draco did not feel the same way.

“This year I have felt our relationship has evolved past friendship, and I think it may be time we take the next step. I like you, Y/N. I want you to become my girlfriend, officially.”

“Draco…” She sighed. They had been over this before, she wasn’t interested in being anything other than friends, he just couldn’t take the hint.

Before she had a chance to break the bad news to him a shadow fell over the pair; Severus Snape towered behind Draco, slapping a large hand on his suited shoulder.

“I’m afraid, Mr Malfoy, I do not believe Y/N is interested in pursuing a relationship with you.”

“Professor Snape.” Draco puffed his chest out, trying hard to hide the look of intimidation evident on his face. “With all due respect I don’t think this has anything to do with you.”

Severus moved the boy aside with ease, positioning himself between his two former students.

“I suggest you leave now, Malfoy, before your feelings get hurt.”

Severus did not warn him again. Instead, he took the opportunity to take Y/N in his arms and pick up exactly where they left off.

“Oh, thank god.” Y/N gasped, clutching at him desperately.

Just as passionately as before, Y/N captured Severus’ mouth with her own, pulling him in by his robes until their bodies were backed up against the wall.

“Want to get out of here?” Severus mumbled against her mouth.

“Fuck yes.”

Ignoring a dumbfounded Draco, the Potions Master and his former student made their way out of Malfoy Manor unable to keep their hands off one another.

Y/N’s dream was finally about to come true.

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waterdragon11 · 26 days ago

Text

MINOR BLOGS DNI

Nanami was a hard, hard working husband. He would be out of the house at sharp six, and back by five no matter what. The days he got home later than that, he seemed more relaxed than overworked- your best guess what that he took it out on his co-workers in an aggressively passive tone.

You would always be up before him, groggily moving around the house to make him breakfast and pack his lunch, even if your body was itching to crawl back into bed. You knew it meant a lot to him that you made sure you gave him a kiss goodbye. It was probably the only thing keeping him from pulling out his sword on that Satoru coworker of his. Often when he came back, he would have that specific irritation in his eyes that he had never directed towards you.

Kento Nanami was also a walking contradiction wrapped in a beautiful pale suit.

Your overworked beloved refused to spend his "hard-earned, well-made money" on small indulgences throughout the week.

Cafe? Kento invested in a coffee machine.

Biking Club? He bought a high-end cycling machine for you to burn those calories away.

Yoga? He got one of his friends to record private sessions so you could display them on the flat screen television.

But on the weekends?

If the thought even so crossed your mind, he would read it telepathically, car keys already ready. You were barely even thinking about being hungry, opening your mouth to suggest take out when your husband stands-up.

"Come on, darling, I've already got the car ready." "Ken, we really don't have to go to go out for dinner again-" "It was an online order from Raising Cane's. We're going to pick it up and drive to the beach." You're up in a flash, running to the room to change out of Kento's shirt into a top fit for the sand.

Even on days that you would rather stay home and cuddle up, Nanami has already made multiple reservations at high-end boutiques with "color sections" the size of your living room. You complained that you never wanted to try anything on, but the moment you got there, you were instantly enamoured by the sheer quantity of beautiful clothing. Kento would simply smile knowingly and sit on the couch in front of the changing room, placing a pillow on his lap.

Just for safe-keeping.

Especially when you wore those lovely nude satin dresses, with the spaghetti straps that didn't seem to hold onto anything, and cloth that bunched perfectly at your mid-thighs.

Just for safe-keeping.

You looked at it with even a little bit of interest? It was in the cart.

A little bit more excitement? Two in a different color.

Downright wanting? Kento would get a personal stylist to give you a complete set of what would look best.

After you had visited at least seven fashion stores in the mall he had picked by spinning a wheel with you, you would then go to one of the fanciest restaurants you had ever seen, wearing one of the sets that your enchanted husband had dearly picked out for you. It would hurt your soul to crush the satin fabric, even a little, sitting on those plush dining chairs.

But Nanami refused to let you wear the "normal" clothes you had arrived to the mall in (simply another set he had bought you last weekend), and to instead wear the newly bought clothes that made you look just so perfect.

What was that restaurant policy again? Napkins on laps.

Nanami could think of quite a few things that could be on his lap right now.

#jjk #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk nanami kento #jjk kento nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami #kento #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #nanami x you #kento x you #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #headcannons #he's just a fancy man

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cameronsbabydoll · 6 months ago

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SFW ALPHABET HEAD-CANNONS —.✦ RAFE CAMERON

A — Admiration ⟢ What do they admire about you?

Rafe admires the way you hold yourself, he admires the fact the amount of kindness in your heart and the way you see the good in everyone! — But he won’t deny that he always will admire you physically

B — Bonding ⟢ What’s their favorite bonding activity?

Rafe loves taking you to the country club, showing you off in your little tennis skirt showing you off to all the other business men. He loves looking back before taking a hit on the golf course and seeing you either chatting with some of your girl friends or seeing you sit in the golf cart scrolling on your phone with a pout on your face.

C — Cuddling ⟢ How do they like to cuddle?

Rafe is 100% the big spoon, he loves holding you, wrapping your legs around him, feeling your head on his chest and your acrylic nails drawing shapes on his arms.

D — Dates ⟢ What are date nights like?

When Rafe chooses date nights it varies from dinner at the country club, a night on the yacht, or taking you outside Outer Banks to an upper class restaurant! (And he books a night at a fancy hotel)

E — Emotions ⟢ How do they express their emotions?

Rafe has never been one to show their emotions, it takes him a while to slowly express his emotions and when he does it’ll take him a minute. He usually shows his emotions through his body language whether it’s a clenched jaw or his knuckles turning white.

F — Future ⟢ How do they see their future with you?

Rafe sees himself marrying you and living the “all american dream” living in the mansion of Tannyhill, and he’ll be the CEO and the man of the house. All he wants is to come home to his beautiful wife dressed in a pretty sundress making dinner and their two kids playing around the house.

G — Gifts ⟢ How do they feel about gift giving?

Rafe is a huge gift giver! He absolutely loves to take you on shopping sprees, picking out clothes (especially lingerie) for you to try on, for you he doesn’t mind spending a good ten thousand dollars if it makes you smile.

H — Holding Hands ⟢ How do they hold hands?

I don’t think Rafe is a big hand holder but when he does, is hand is on top engulfing yours, gently squeezing your hand when you zone out.

I — Injury ⟢ How would they react if you got hurt?

His protective mode is on! He’ll set you down on the nearest surface and bend down to your level asking you “What happened? Did someone hurt you?” best believe if someone hurt you he will grab his gun and deal with it.

J — Jealousy ⟢ How jealous do they get?

Very!!! Rafe is a jealous and possessive man, he sees a man just talking to you and you best believe he is seething! He can’t help it, he doesn’t like seeing what’s his being around someone else!

K — Kisses ⟢ How do they like to kiss you?

It depends, it goes between him giving you a soft kiss, he usually gives these when he’s in a rush in the morning for a meeting or he’s busy trying to get a perfect shot on the golf course, but for the most part he kisses you with passion, putting his large hands around your neck bending down and picking you up, never stopping the kiss. (Sometimes the kisses get quite sloppy)

L — Love ⟢ What’s their love language?

I’d say Rafes love language is both physical touch and acts of services. He loves having a hand on you at all times, it helps him feel grounded when he feels your skin on his, plus it’s a way to show you off. Rafe loves doing things for you, it makes him feel manly and proactive, sometimes it’s him making sure you don’t bump into anything or him bringing you breakfast after a long night!

M — Morning ⟢ How are mornings spent with them?

Mornings are usually spent tangled between each other on the kings side bed, sometimes Rafe is already in the shower when you wake up and sometimes he’s on the balcony porch overlooking the backyard, he’ll be sitting on one of the couches dressed in just his grey sweatpants manspreading his legs and patting his thigh for you to join.

N — Nightmare ⟢ What is their worst fear?

Rafes worst fear is losing you, he’s so afraid that you’ll see him as he sees himself. He doesn’t want you to leave him, he can be insecure and it’ll lead him to trying to get you to be co-dependent on him sometimes.

O — Obvious ⟢ How obvious is their love to you?

It can be obvious in some cases, he isn’t the type to pull a Patrick Verona stunt and sing you a song in front of everybody, he gives subtle hints. He will drop off large bouquets of your favorite flowers and he’ll give you his overprotective nature to show you that he loves and cares for you.

P — Pet Names ⟢ What do they call you?

In public it goes between “Doll” “Sweetheart” “Baby” but he’ll say it in a bit of a condescending way! (But to preface his pet names are very different in private)

Q — Quirk ⟢ What is one of their quirks?

Rafe is a neat freak! He does not tolerate messes, it overstimulates him. Rafe can not deal with his bed being messed up or his clothing all over the floors.

R — Romance ⟢ How romantic are they?

Rafe can be romantic, like I said he doesn’t go over the top in a show off way, but in private he will. He doesn’t feel the need to show his love to you for the purpose of others but he will do anything you ask! You want to go shopping? He’s already in the car, you want to go on a vacation? He’s already preparing the private jet!

S — Show Off ⟢ Do they like to show you off?

Rafe absolutely loves it! Like I said he’s a possessive guy, so nothing feels better than to walk around Outer Banks with his hand on your lower back as you cling to his arm dressed in a cute dress and kitten heels! Oh boy does he love the way the other guys look at the two of you with faces of jealousy and envy!

T — Time ⟢ How quickly do they fall in love with you?

I think Rafe knew the moment you moved to the Outer Banks that you were the one for him, however it did take him a minute to admit it out loud.

U — Upset ⟢ How do they comfort you?

Rafe isn’t the best at comforting people but he tries for you, he’ll ask you to talk about it but he just ends up threatening whoever upsets you so now he approaches these situations by pulling you onto his lap and asking if he can do anything to help.

V — Value ⟢ What do they value most about you?

A better question is what doesn’t he value about you? Rafe finds value in everything when it comes to you, even if that value annoys the hell out of him. But overall Rafe values your sweet and loving personality, it’s a comforting and warm feeling to be around.

X — X-Ray ⟢ How easily can they read you?

Rafe can read right through you, he can tell your upset by the pout on your face and the crossed arms and the way you stomp your foot on the ground like a little bunny! He may tease you at first but just know he will always be there for you.

Y — Yearning ⟢ How easily do they miss you?

As much as Rafe tries to make you co-dependent on him, he definitely has his co-dependcy issues when your away. Even when your just gone for the day going shopping or to the spa, you best believe Rafe is constantly checking on you through messages, instagram, and even your location.

Z — Zzzz ⟢ What are nights like with him?

It depends on the nights, sometimes Rafe comes home late from work and he’ll see you cuddling his pillow waiting for his arrival, but on a normal night you two eat dinner and sometimes you’ll watch a movie and fall asleep in each others arms. (Rafe refuses to go to sleep before you do, just in case something happens!)

#cameronsbabydoll ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#rafe cameron ۶ৎ #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fluff #outer banks ｡𖦹°‧#rafe obx #outer banks x reader #sfw alphabet #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x yn

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lostwrlds · 2 months ago

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hiii this is my first ask im a lil nervy hehe um im not sure if ur requests are open iii tried looking and couldn't find it anywhere so if they're not im sorry!! but i think a rly cute lil drabble could be like. reo (if u write him!) with an s/o that was raised significantly less well off than him. like lower lower class, but she's not with him for status, obv! i think it'd be cute if i dunno they're hanging out and she's talking abt some event from her childhood that she thought was totally normal and reo's like ml.... wtf is wrong with u

that or like! maybe they're dating and she's always been hesitant to bring him to her house bc she knows how reo lives and she's like well,, what if he hates me afterwards. but he insists on visiting and reassuring her that he's not like. shallow and nasty abt it i dunno

feel free to ignore this if it's not hitting! i do not mind, i really like ur blog anyhow and i hope ur well! kiss kiss

no matter what ─ reo mikage .ᐟ

summary ✩ ! in the sweet breeze of spring, reo mikage reassures you that he'll like you...no, love you, no matter what difference is between your worlds. no matter what. 1.5K

✩ cw; fluff, all characters are adults, afab!reader, minors, blank & ageless blogs do not interact. mwah mwah thank you for taking the time to send an ask and for your request, lovie! i hope you enjoy! sorry it took me so long to get to it! >_<

“promise you won’t laugh.”

your voice is quiet, gentle like the breeze that rustles through reo’s amethyst locks as you walk together — side by side. it’s your fourth official date, fifth if you count the lunch you shared at his soccer practice the other day, where you'd made him the cutest little homemade bento full of his favourite snacks. either way, the pro player is happy to be by your side this evening, to watch the sunset glow halo your silhouette and the way your shoulders hunch beneath the sliding straps of your sundress each time you laugh under your breath. he liked this dress on you, it’s perfect for the weather.

“i swear, i won’t!” reo insists, reaching out to fix your strap with a delicate touch that strays no further than the bare skin of your shoulders. you twitch underneath his rough fingertips as they graze you — you’re nervous and your skittish behaviour gives up your jig. ever since you met him, you’ve never been one to shy away from the purple haired player — bold and confident as ever, that’s how you got him hooked like this. the look you give him is a curious mix of bashfulness and fear, you’ve got nothing to worry about; so he does his best to reassure you. “c’mon, you know i'm not that type of guy…”

tonight, you’d invited him over to your place and allowed him to walk you home. he knows it’s a big deal for you, that you secretly worry your background and home life won’t appease him as someone raised in the comfort of the top one percent. but reo doesn’t care, he’s dated rich girls and even richer older women but none of them have a heart of gold like you do. they’re all bitter and callous, cruel with all of their riches and ridiculous spending.

if anything, you’re a nice pace and change from the spoiled, snobby lifestyle he’s accustomed too.

“i've got siblings, you know. the place is always crowded,” you quip, burying your fears under amusement — turning away from reo to stare out into the setting sun.

“doesn’t matter, my place was always quiet growing up. ‘m sure i’ll appreciate the company,” he shakes his head, fingers cascading down your arms as if to stop you from pulling away. his deep, alluring eyes trace over every part of you, drinking you in under the setting sun as if to commit you to memory — reo doesn’t want to let this go or let this end. he wants you in his life, no matter what that may look like. “how many?”

nerves get the best of you and you avoid his gaze, swallowing the thick claggy lump in your throat as best as you can. you find his presence in your life intimidating, yet comfortingly constant. you’re so afraid of the disparities between your backgrounds, how much more the soccer player has and was raised with, compared to yourself. he had it all and you had enough to get by, living semi-comfortably. logically, you know if reo mikage were to judge you, he’d be a narcissistic and privileged piece of crap.

but you don’t do that, you don’t want to have to give him up because of that. you like reo and you so selfishly want to keep him. “two.” comes your shaky reply and you stop walking, taking up space on the sidewalk as the man holds you close. “and the dishwasher is broken but i swear we’re trying to replace it,” the excuses flow without you really meaning to let them out — rushing like a river. if he really cared about what you have and don’t have he’d have given up on this and the very end of your first date… but reo mikage wants you so bad, he refuses to acknowledge any out that you give him.

“hey, look at me,” tutting, reo releases one of your arms to grasp at your chin using a thumb and forefinger — cocking his head to the side as he leans down to your height. trying to see you, attempting to understand you. the gesture makes you clam up and attempt to squirm away, but he’s stronger and faster than you. you’re not going to run this time. “i know that you think i’m some kind of rich snob—“

“— i don't,” you cut him off in an attempt at being firm, heat flaring under your skin with shame whilst you try to shake it away with your head moving side to side. “i-i’m not trying to make you feel that way—!”

the air to mikage corp and the most understanding, caring man you’ve ever met only smiles softly, tutting at you with an air of fondness. “let me finish, and then you can tell me how you feel after, okay?” reo hums carefully, looking you in the eye with the hopes that you can trust him. “i’ll be the first to admit, i grew up rich and spoiled. guys like me are always born with a silver spoon in their mouths… so that i could have anything and anyone that i wanted,” he begins, pushing the words around his mouth with his tongue and navigating how to be honest and firm with you. how to properly communicate his feelings to you without scaring you off.

the spring-like and floral scented breeze carries his words right through you, touching your heart as the soccer player speaks thoughtfully. “but i promise you? i’m not anymore. i want you, want to prove that i’m worthy of you. it doesn’t matter that we’ve come from different worlds and i don't care that things are broken or your home is always loud,” reo hesitates, nerves surrounding the beating organ in his chest because he never pictured this — pouring his heart out on the pavement while he walks the person he likes home. “none of that, all of it… it doesn’t matter to me. i like you. like seriously. i don’t need you to have grown up the same as me for us to work. i like you, no matter what.”

a beat of silence passes between you, only broken up by passing cars and the wafting laughter of people enjoying the warmth of the spring evening. “do you mean it? are you okay with… everything?” you ask tentatively, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

reo swipes a thumb over the bottom one, stopping you from hurting yourself. “i do, i want to visit your home and see where you grew up. where you became this person that i like so much,” he says, treading lightly, as if not to spook you. “but only when you’re ready,”

the sincerity decorating the cadence in your voice tells you that he means it and you believe it too. reo wouldn’t abandon you because you don’t cover yourself in twenty-four carat gold, just as you wouldn’t leave him if he one day lost it all. standing on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose and grin when his face scrunches adorably in surprise.

“i’m ready, i want this. for you to see my home.”

and with that, you open your heart and your world to reo mikage. he walks you to your place and is polite in closing the front gate while you sift through your purse for your house keys. he greets your mum at the threshold as he toes off his shoes, who’d turned from your worn down kitchen at the end of the hall after hearing your familiar voice and jingling keychains. reo bumps fists and shakes hands with your siblings and teases them playfully — dubbing himself ‘the boyfriend’ once you reach the landing on the first floor, having been stopped by them on your way to the bedroom.

he likes the business, the family photos hanging on faded painted walls and the creek in your floorboards and the whining of your bedroom door. your bed feels loved and slept in, the mattress holding your shape. he detects it when he sinks into it after sitting down. the rest of your evening is spent recounting memories of your home, how you were raised and all the times you’d left the nest for work and uni and exploring the world.

it’s only when an inky black sky replaces the orange coloured sunset outside that you pause to ask. “what do you think?” fiddling with reo’s large hands as he snuggles up to you on your adorable single bed.

“i love it, it’s full of memories. feels safe and like home.” the purple haired player comments wistfully, linking your fingers before he brings them up to his lips. “i wish i grew up in some place like this.”

reo kisses you on the back of your hand and this time you don’t shy away, accepting his affections like you’ve accepted sharing the intimate parts of your home life with him. “maybe one day, we’ll have a place like this. fill it with our own family and memories.” comes your timid offer.

“yeah?” reo smiles, practically saying ‘yes’ already and his heart sings at the thought of a future like this. with you.

tucking yourself into his side, your head nuzzled safely under his chin, you hum in content. “yeah.”

and then, reo mikage makes you a promise. the cross my heart and hope to fly kind of promise, the kind of promise imbued into a ring that he’ll probably get for you, someday — squeezing you close with no intention of letting you go. “then, i’ll make that happen for you, no matter what.”

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