#for an impromptu drawing session

[cupiare]

i might finally get my wish of running an art club this is not a drill ‼️‼️‼️

[alpacacare-archive]

success

[revelingrexan]

"...not very clever!"

and then Alastor cusses for the first time in the show :D

[bee-calm]

home for the holidays 🌟

(obligatory cover for a long-overdue christmas fic- read a place beneath the snow here!)

[ellecdc]

teehee potions partners turned friends to lovers! James and reader. She has a massive crush on him and finally built up the courage to confess! On the other hand, James is all 😀🧍🏻? because he thought they’ve been dating for the past 3 weeks after their trip to hogsmeade <3

-⭐️

sooooo cute, thanks for the prompt!!

James Potter x fem!reader who can't be friends with him anymore [1.6k words]

CW: miscommunication trope? sort of?, fluff, written for a fem!reader but no gender is defined other than one mention of 'darling girl'

It felt beyond tortuous at this point. It felt inhumane to even have to be within the same vicinity as James Potter.

You’d always found him quite distracting; the kind of attractive that demanded your attention whether you wanted to give it or not. Between that and his penchant for drawing attention to himself, it was difficult to do anything but notice him.

Thankfully for you, you’d always found your attraction to the Gryffindor to be wholly physical and visual in nature; sure, he was nice to look at, but you had no interest in talking to the loud, brash, boisterous, mischievous Gryffindor who was nothing but trouble if his infamous pranks and many detentions were anything to go by.

And then Professor Sprout paired the two of you together for your year end project.

And then you were forced to spend every class sharing a potting bench with him plus the various library meetings you had to set up in order to finish the written portion of the assignment.

And then, possibly worst of all, the two of you had taken a trip to Hogsmeade to pick up some seeds and gardening equipment which turned into an impromptu shopping trip through Tomes & Scrolls, Honeydukes, Zonkos, and ended with a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks.

And you loved it, which you hated.

You hated it because you’d come to learn over the latter part of the term that James Potter was boisterous, but in a rather charismatic way. 

You learned that James Potter was mischievous, but in a painfully clever way. 

James Potter played an awful lot of pranks on Hogwarts students and staff, but the majority of them (save the ones against a few particular Slytherin students) were lighthearted in nature. 

And though James Potter was, perhaps, loud and brash when surrounded by his friends and quidditch team mates, he was somehow overwhelmingly soft and relaxed around you. 

For you, James always came across as rather…simple in the corridors of the castle and at mealtimes; you only knew him as the loud jokester who bantered with anyone and everyone within earshot. But you learned quite quickly that he was a very high-performing student and barely had to put in any effort to pass with flying colours.

Which, unfortunately, left him a lot of time to talk with you.

You learned that he was fiercely loyal and protective of his own; he loved no one more than he loved his friends who were more like family to him at this point. He had a strong sense of justice, and you learned that many of his more…aggressive pranks on the Slytherin’s turned out to be his own version of vigilante justice for some slur or hateful action they’d been stupid enough to say or do in front of the Marauders.

You also learned that he was just lovely; he always pulled your chair out for you if he got to your table before you, he showed up to the library one evening late for your scheduled study session and before you had any time to scold him for it, he presented a plate of food that he had procured from the Great Hall for you two to share with an apology on his lips for being late, ‘it’s important to keep your blood sugars up; we need that beautiful brain of yours, angel’ he’d told you, and it took you perhaps the rest of the study session to get your cheeks to cool and heart rate to return to normal.

And that was probably the worst part - the nicknames; the endearments that fell so naturally from his lips as if they were simply carved out of the English language just for you, as if there was no other possible way he could refer to you other than as his ‘angel’, ‘sweetness’, or ‘darling girl’. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, you just couldn’t; you found yourself feeling completely insecure about your … friendship? Relationship? … with him that when you so much as even heard him talk to another student, you were filled with a heavy jealousy that left you feeling nothing but shame because you had no right to be jealous over someone you had no claim over.

So, you had decided, today was the day.

Today was the day you were going to come clean, the day you were going to admit your feelings to James so that you could rid yourself of this heavy burden; this crush.

He’ll either turn you down and you can get on with life, or….

Well…

You had not really thought that far ahead.

And it didn’t look like you would have any time to as he walked through the door and flashed you a beaming smile that saw both dimples make an appearance.

Oh gods…there was no way that someone so lovely, so beautiful, so effervescent could ever reciprocate feelings for the likes of you.

Of course not!

There was only one way this was going to go, and it was going to end in your spirit being crushed.

“Hey, angel!” He greeted with a smacking kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad to see you! What did you want to talk about?” He asked as he sat beside you on the bench and angeled his entire body towards you; like you were the only thing worth directing his attention at.

Oh, you were going to miss that.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.” You blurted rather suddenly.

James looked as though you’d just slapped him; his head actually rearing back as he blinked at you.

“I- what?” He asked breathlessly. 

“I…I just don’t think we can be friends anymore.” You murmured quieter this time, no longer able to make eye contact with him and turning your gaze towards the woodgrain of the table you were sitting at. 

“And why not, exactly?” He asked; voice level and controlled in a way you’d not heard the likes of before. 

“Because I…I don’t want to be your friend, James.” 

“You don’t want to be my friend?” He deadpanned in return.

“I…I rather wish we were more.” You admitted. “I find that I’ve, uhm, well I…I seem to have feelings for you and…I can’t just be friends with you anymore.”

You decided to stop your rather embarrassing and nonsensical ramble and stole a glance at James in your periphery to see he was leaning on his elbow and had his hand covering his mouth as he stared at you.

His eyes were crinkled in the corners and shining with mirth and you realised then that he was laughing at you.

“Are you-”

“No!”

“You are!”

“No, angel, I’m-”

“You’re laughing at me!” You all but screeched in the library of all places and made to stand, only for James’ hands to shoot out and catch you at your wrists, exposing his beaming smile and the fact that his shoulders were absolutely shaking with laughter.

“Sh, wait, don’t go-”

“James Potter, don’t shush me!” You whisper-shouted as you tried to wrench your wrists from his grasp, only to have him laugh harder and pull you back down into your seat with little effort on his part.

“Hey, listen! Listen to me.” He begged between laughs. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m just laughing because- hey!” He paused as you managed to free one of your hands and whacked him in the very muscular arm for it. “I’m laughing because I was under the impression that we already were dating.”

You stared at him in shock as he let out a few more chuckles; holding your gaze with his warm brown ones as he rubbed circles on your wrists with his thumbs.

“What?” You finally asked dumbly.

“I was very much under the impression that our Hogsmeade trip was our first date, sweetheart.” He explained.

“But, why?”

“I told you I had a lovely time and asked if we could do it again?” 

“I thought you meant, as like…study partners!” You offered defensively. 

“Do study partners often kiss your cheek in greeting?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I just thought you were very affectionate!”

He nodded his head back-and-forth as if saying ‘fair enough’ before moving his gaze back to you and offering you a salacious smirk. 

“Then, for the purpose of being completely candid, I absolutely did not do any of the aforementioned things, nor what I’m about to do, in a platonic manner, okay?”

His eyes flit to your lips and back up as he leaned closer to you. “Okay..”

“Yeah?” He whispered, his nose mere centimetres from your own as he searched your eyes for any hesitation. 

“Yeah.” You agreed with a nod, moving your eyes to his lips just before he closed the distance between you.

His lips were warm and purposeful against yours, feeling as though they’d been longing to do exactly this from the moment the two of you shared words.

He took a long, deep breath in as if he was desperate to get more of you - to memorise how you tasted, how you smelt, and how you felt as he brought his hands up to rest on either side of your jaw - while you felt all of the tension, worry, and air leave your lungs with a whoosh of relief. 

‘Finally’ your body seemed to be saying.

James broke apart from you before pressing his forehead against yours and brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. 

“Finally.” He agreed with your internal dialogue. “Was that clear enough for you, angel?”

“Yeah, Jamie.” You offered with a breathless chuckle. “Finally.” You repeated.

Finally.

[moonxytcn]

Heyyy (btw before I request anything ur writing is literally pure GOLD) anyways could u write about how the reader and billie have always been friends since childhood up to her newest album hit me hard and soft. Billie is on tour and the reader always finds a way to get front row tickets to her bestfriends shows. A few days before tour started the reader posted a TikTok with billie lying across her lap on the sofa. In the comments there was lots of speculation about a flirty friendship (behind closed doors the reader and billie both knew that was true). A few days later Billie was performing in LA. An hour or so into the show billie starts singing ‘Billie Bossa Nova’ from her album happier than ever. When it gets to the lyrics “nobody saw me in the lobby…𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬” Billie gave a smirk to the crowd instantly locking eyes with the reader and winking knowing full well that due to that TikTok posted a few days before, EVERYBODY saw her in your arms.

Nobody saw me in your arms

| Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – Billie and you finally talk about how you feel after years of hidden feelings and fan speculation

warnings – fluffy

a/n – heyyy thank you so much for the request!! hope you like it

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned Post

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–––

Billie’s voice echoes through the packed venue, the energy in the room palpable as she performs each song with the intensity and emotion that only she can bring. You’ve always been amazed at how she can captivate an audience, how she can make every single person in the room feel like she’s singing directly to them. But tonight, as you stand front row, the bass reverberating through your chest, you know that, for at least one song, she really is singing to you.

It’s been like this for as long as you can remember. From the time you were kids, Billie had a way of drawing people in. You still remember the days when she’d sneak into your room with a mischievous grin, her hair dyed some new, vibrant color, and a guitar slung over her shoulder. Back then, it was just the two of you, making up songs and laughing until your sides hurt. You’d listen to her dreams of becoming a star, and though you always believed in her, it was hard to imagine the tiny spark of a girl next door turning into the powerhouse standing on stage tonight.

You’ve been by her side through it all. From those early, impromptu jam sessions in your living room to the first time she played in front of a real crowd, you’ve watched her grow into the artist she is today. And no matter how big she’s gotten, how many millions of fans scream her name, she’s always made sure you were right there with her.

When Billie’s latest album, 'Hit Me Hard and Soft', dropped, you were one of the first people to hear it. She’d sent you the demos before the rest of the world even knew it existed, nervously biting her lip as she waited for your reaction. Of course, you loved it. How could you not? The album was everything she was—bold, vulnerable, raw, and beautiful. It was a testament to everything she’d been through, and everything you’d gone through together.

But of all the songs she has ever made, one has caught her attention. 'Billie Bossa Nova' was different from the rest, and when you first heard it, your heart skipped a beat. The lyrics were sultry, teasing, full of secrets whispered behind closed doors. You recognized yourself in the song, in the way Billie’s voice dipped and softened, in the way she played with the words like they were meant just for you. And you knew, in that moment, that your friendship had never been just a friendship.

You never talked about it—not really. Sure, there had been moments, stolen glances, lingering touches, that said more than words ever could. But neither of you wanted to ruin what you had. The connection between you was too special, too rare to risk by putting a label on it. So you kept it quiet, hidden behind the walls of inside jokes and childhood memories.

But a few days before the tour kicked off, something changed. You’d posted a TikTok of the two of you lounging on your sofa, Billie sprawled across your lap, her head resting comfortably against your chest. It was an innocent video, just a moment of you two being you, but the comments quickly exploded with speculation. People saw what was between you, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourselves. The rumors of a "flirty friendship" spread like wildfire, with fans dissecting every interaction, every glance, every smile.

Billie had laughed it off when you showed her, her eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. "Let them talk", she’d said, and you both agreed to keep it under wraps, to keep the world guessing.

And now, here you are, in the middle of her sold-out LA show, and you can feel the anticipation building. The setlist is winding down, and you know 'Billie Bossa Nova' is coming. You’ve been to every show so far on this tour, using every connection you have to secure front-row tickets. It's become your little tradition, a way to remind her that no matter how big her world gets, you'll always be there, front and center.

The lights dim, and the crowd hushes as the familiar, sultry beat of 'Billie Bossa Nova' starts to play. Billie steps to the edge of the stage, her gaze scanning the audience, and you can feel your heart start to race. You know this moment is for you.

As she sings, her voice dripping with honeyed tones, she sways to the rhythm, her eyes locking with yours. The crowd disappears, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you, sharing a secret that no one else can touch. Then she gets to the line that makes your breath hitch every time: "Nobody saw me in the lobby…" She pauses for a beat, and you see the corner of her mouth quirk up in a playful smirk. "…nobody saw me in your arms."

And then she winks.

It’s quick, almost imperceptible to anyone not paying attention, but you catch it. Your stomach flips, a rush of warmth spreading through you as you realize what she’s just done. With that one simple gesture, she’s acknowledged everything. The TikTok, the rumors, the truth behind closed doors. She’s letting you know that she remembers, that she sees you, and that she’s just as affected as you are.

The crowd erupts into cheers, but you barely hear them. Your eyes are glued to Billie, your heart pounding as she finishes the song, still holding your gaze. When the final note fades, she blows a kiss to the audience, and you know that it’s meant for you.

The rest of the concert passes in a blur, your mind stuck on that moment, on the way she made you feel like the only person in the world. When the show finally ends, and the lights come up, you make your way backstage, your pulse racing with anticipation.

Billie’s waiting for you, her face flushed with the afterglow of the performance. "So." She says, a teasing lilt in her voice as she leans against the wall, "how’d you like the show?"

You roll your eyes, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. "You know I loved it."

"Good." She replies, her eyes sparkling. "Because that little wink? It was just for you."

Your breath catches as she steps closer, her gaze never leaving yours. "Billie, about that TikTok—" You start, but she cuts you off with a soft laugh.

"Don’t worry about it." She says, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Let them talk, remember?"

"But…" You hesitate, unsure of how to put everything you’re feeling into words. "But what if we want more than just letting them talk?"

She’s quiet for a moment, her expression softening as she reaches out to take your hand. "Then maybe it’s time we stop hiding." She says gently. "We’ve been dancing around this for years, and I’m tired of pretending. Aren’t you?"

You nod, your heart swelling with relief and something deeper, something that’s been building between you for as long as you can remember. "Yeah." You whisper, squeezing her hand. "I’m tired of pretending too."

Billie smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. "Good." She says, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home. "Because I want you in my life—front row, center stage—where you belong."

As you hold each other, the noise of the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you again, just like it’s always been. But this time, there are no more secrets, no more hiding. Just the truth, out in the open, for everyone to see.

[minkdelovely]

kinktober — day IX

prompt: biting

ripe

“but i know

you’ve got a taste

so just take a

bite of me”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: biting, blood / blood play, dub-con (covering by bases here), flirting but make it cannibal (no actual consumption — that’s a different prompt lol), power dynamics (alastor’s not your boss but also not-not your boss?), heavy petting over clothes, digital stimulation, tentacle play, squirting, descriptions of biting, mentions of eating fruit and its texture 🍑✨

word count: 3.5k

summary: you make an off-handed comment that piques alastor’s interest, and he decides to test a hypothesis that ends with promising results!

author’s note: i don’t have much to say here (because it’s all in the body) but if you’ve got an oral fixation or a thing for biting my only hope is that this fits the bill 🙏🏻 oh and uh… i really hope y’all still like fruit after this lol quote is from the offering by sleep token.

coven: @fraugwinska @hazelfoureyes @macabr3-barbi3 @sugoi-writes @synamartia 🕯️♥️

the coven’s kinktober masterlist

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Everyone was snickering, but what you said had been innocent enough. And honest!

“What? Is that strange?”

Angel put his hand on your shoulder while the others tried to kill their laughs, looking at you with kind pity. “Babe,” he started, smile trembling as he fought to stay neutral, “down here that’s, like, one step away from bein’ a cannibal.”

Was it, really? 

You couldn’t recall how the conversation ended up here, but you had all been discussing your favorite fruits. When it was your turn to share, all you had said was that you preferred fleshy fruits because they were satisfying to bite. Peaches, especially. 

Though perhaps the laughter had been a blessing in disguise. It prevented you from finishing your thought, the remainder of which you now resigned to keep to yourself. Wide eyes and the blush burning your face brought the group to heel as they noticed your embarrassment, coughing to smother what was left of their mirth.

“It’s not strange at all,” Charlie said reassuringly. “Your answer was just…,” her hands danced in the air as she scrambled for her next word, “unexpected! But now that you mention it, I like grapes because they pop!”

That earned her a few sideward glances and teasing eyebrow wiggles, but she immediately dove into how texture was just as important as taste when it came to food in some cultures. Whether or not she was falling on the sword, you did appreciate her commiseration. It was enough to draw away attention from your admission, and the conversation eventually made its way to other topics. Before you knew it, the bonding session was done and you were all going your separate ways.

You were headed to your room to freshen up when Alastor caught you in front of the elevator. 

“Afternoon, my dear! Do you have a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” His static voice was polite enough, but his grin seemed a bit… dubious.

Still, you didn’t really have a reason not to be honest. The two of you had a decent working relationship. Being in charge of inventory, Alastor checked in with you twice a day: nine in the morning and at night. You had already met up with him this morning, giving him a full rundown on what was stocked, what was getting low, and a few things Charlie had wanted to spruce up the common areas with. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary then, at least, despite his displeasure at the knickknacks the Princess had suggested.

Maybe something had happened while you were busy with the group? In the months you had known each other, Alastor had never asked for an impromptu meeting before… But there’s a first time for everything.

“Yes, I have time,” you conceded. “I was gonna touch up a bit, but I’ll just grab my binder and meet you in the conference room?”

The small conference room, A, down the hall of the main floor was where you usually met to go over your reports. It hadn’t been specifically designated for you two, but you met there so regularly everyone knew to leave it be. Being on the wrong side of Alastor’s temper wasn’t worth the trouble when there were other rooms available, if needed. 

“There will be no need for that,” Alastor assured brightly, hooking your arm through his to pivot from the elevator. “It’s something of a personal nature, actually.”

“Personal?” you blurted, immediately flushing at the slip. “Not that I mind, it’s just…”

Alastor smiled down at you, knowing what you meant without finishing your explanation. The relationship you had with him was strictly professional. Sure, you were friendly enough but in the way that co-workers are, but not confidants. For all intents and purposes, Alastor was your boss. If he was having problems in his personal life, he had friends worthy of his station to seek council with. So why you, all of a sudden? What advice could you possibly give to an Overlord who had been here for nearly a century while you were wet behind the ears?

There wasn’t much time to linger on it though, having quickly made it to your destination. Alastor removed himself from you to open the door, sweeping his arm before you with a flourish, directing you inside. The hand he placed on the dip of your back as you moved past him made you jump a little. 

Another first.

But you dismissed it, hoping your reaction didn’t put him off. This wasn’t a business meeting, after all. It was personal. And it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. In fact, it was a bit surprising how much the gesture excited you. The light pressure of his hand spanning across the back of your waist made you acutely aware of just how much larger he was than you. Something you had registered neutrally as pure fact — he towered over most, if not all of you living here — was now making your heart quicken.

Alastor was debonair, to be sure, but you had always kept the lines between you clear in your mind. Well… as much as you could, for your part. It would be a lie to say that your daydreams didn’t wander now and then. But as a rule, you had never entertained a romantic interest in anyone you worked with. Don’t shit where you eat, you remember your father joking on your first morning as part of the workforce. 

It was advice you took to the grave, apparently.

You were about to take your usual seat when Alastor tutted and tapped on the lacquered tabletop with his microphone. When you turned to look up at him, confused, you were met only with his expectant face lilting to the right in silent indication of where he wanted you to sit. 

“I really don’t understand this,” you muttered, apprehensive, but proceeded to sit yourself on the table anyway. You had to stand up on your toes to achieve it, feeling Alastor’s eyes on you the entire time it took you to get up there and settle.

He grabbed the chair next to you and adjusted it slightly before placing it in front of you to sit, causing you to squirm. Alastor was collected as ever, primping himself as if he weren’t practically sitting between your legs. Even with his impressive height, you were looking down at him. Not by much, with how he had raised the chair you were somewhat at eye level, but it was odd all the same. Perhaps even the intention.

Still… you felt anxious. Like waiting for bad news at the doctor’s office. Legs swinging softly over the edge of what might as well be an examination table just to give yourself something to do while you waited for him to speak.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation earlier,” he said, folding his hands in his lap. “For the record, I don’t think that puts you a step away from cannibalism.”

Is that was this was all about? Not that you had any idea of what to expect him to want to talk about, but this topic didn’t bring you any relief. You knew about his proclivities — hell, you were responsible for keeping certain items in stock for him! You shifted a little, feeling more under the scope than ever as he merely stared. The placid smile on his face akin to that of a biding alligator, luring its prey into a false sense of security with inaction.

“I don’t believe you got the chance to speak your peace on the matter,” he continued, voice smooth despite the static overlay. “And I, for one, am curious to hear more. If you’ll indulge me.”

He was right, in the strange way that he always seemed to be. His ability to read people was frightening — a quality you noticed others weren’t nearly as wary of as they should be. Too distracted by his enigmatic reputation and penchant for violence.

The image of a lolling alligator came back, closer to the shore. 

“Well, that really was most of it. I just… enjoy the texture of fruits like that? There’s not much else to say.”

Alastor blinked, one eye then the other, waiting for you to elaborate. But it felt too humiliating to say the rest. 

How you relished the sensation of your teeth piercing the skin, hearing and feeling the pop from serration. Sinking into the soft flesh, juice pooling in your mouth and inevitably down the side of it; dripping from your chin down to the floor. It was one of the few times you allowed yourself to be somewhat messy. Not caring about the juice that dried sticky on your face and hands — a sensory discomfort you couldn’t stand otherwise. It was part of the experience. Something about it tapping into a more primal part of your brain.

There were aspects of this you knew he’d understand, but you had never said these things out loud before. And you could tell that he knew you were holding out. You wouldn’t put it past him to keep you cooped up here for the rest of the day until you relented, and deflated.

Might as well rip off the bandaid…

“I like the way it feels when I bite into them the most.” The words fell out of your mouth, rushed and close together. Feeling much like you were confessing to your parents that you broke the neighbor’s window. 

When he didn’t answer, you began to ramble. The sensations you had just gone over in your head pouring from your mouth in a nervous effort to appease him and get the fuck out of there. You didn’t notice that he had inched closer, or how your legs had unconsciously spread to allow him room to do so. It wasn’t until his hands were on your hips that you snapped out of your babbling, his face the very picture of nonchalant. But his smile…

You were caught.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Don’t you feel better, getting that off your chest?” he mused, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. “And you’ve never been curious about taking a bite of something else? I’m not so sure.”

You yelped when he pulled you to the edge of the table, your legs on either side of his chest. It was only now that you realized how much the hem of your dress had risen, and you gave yourself a silent prayer of thanks for wearing black stockings today. Exposed as you were, it gave you some comfort that so far only your soul remained bare to him.

“I take my mentoring quite seriously,” he went on, crimson eyes burning holes into your psyche. His eye contact was something you had admired professionally, but withered under now. Heartbeat in your throat as his left hand roamed up to your waist, the right holding fast on your hip. “It seems I’ve overlooked an opportunity in your development. If you’d let me, I’d love to give you a demonstration.”

“Demonstrate what?” The question came out harsh, but he was talking around the subject and you were still trying to figure out how you practically ended up in his lap. Even worse, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, despite his forwardness, so you put your frustration in your mouth. “And where is this coming from? If this is your idea of flirting, it’s a little direct.”

You had to keep one hand planted on the table to maintain your balance, but you grabbed at the wrist of his hand that had moved to your leg in a futile attempt to hold him still.

Alastor chuckled, delighted, the hand you held now opting to massage the flesh underneath it as his smile widened. “Ooh, you’ve got a bit of a temper! Enchanting.”

He laughed again when you did your best to jab him in the side with your left knee, his kneading hand unrelenting on your thigh. You could feel the heat in your face beginning to trickle down, an ache blossoming between your legs as he leaned in.

“Flirting? I suppose you could call it that. But as for my being direct, as you put it,” his expression was coquettish as he leaned closer still. The tickle of his breath on your face as he spoke, “I just happen to know that this is a method you prefer. Or haven’t you noticed?”

Flashes of interactions played in your mind. While he had never been rude, you couldn’t deny that when you discussed business he was always concise and clear with his directions. There were never any gaps you had to try and fill or ruminate over what was expected of you. Not only did it allow you to get your job done, but to flourish while doing so. To the point where you were able to even anticipate certain needs before they were asked. Something Alastor had been particularly pleased with, which in turn, made you aim to do it more.

Fuck. He was right.

Alastor must have seen the revelation on your face in the way you felt it crumble, ashamed to have been read so easily. In more ways than one, he had you in the palm of his hand.

“There’s no need for all that,” he cooed, “It’s worked out well for us so far, hasn’t it? Think of this as a trust exercise!”

You wriggled against him and looked away, not wholly convinced. “I still don’t understand what the goal is here… You’re only being direct with your hands, not your words.”

If it wasn’t exactly flirting or seduction, what was it, then? Lessons in cannibalism? A shiver down your spine left you with a strange blend of nausea and intrigue. You did your best to ignore the throb you felt in your groin.

“The goal, my dear, is to find out just how far your fascination with biting goes. And before I offer up my own neck, we need to make sure you know what you’re doing. Hence, the demonstration.”

Alastor placed his palm over your mound, using the heel of his hand to grind against your sensitive nub. Your body jerked, the small scream of shock and pleasure that left you echoing in the room. With your hand still wrapped around his wrist, you could feel the way his bones moved under the skin. The sensation of it dueling with the arousal he was drawing from you in a way that replaced your mind with hot air.

“Wha—mm! What are you doing that for?” you managed to ask, breath heavy and face hot with embarrassment.

“My, what a face you’re making,” Alastor teased, leaning forward to lick a stripe up your cheek with his long tongue. His low chuckle rang in your ears, drowning out your own wanton gasp. “But to answer your question, I need to… ripen the fruit, so to speak.”

His hand over your sex emphasized this with a squeeze and you squealed, thighs clenching around his body in reflex. It only served to press him firmer against you, your grip on his wrist quickly becoming your tether to reality as his fingers stroked you over your stockings and panties. It took longer than you’d have liked for his answer to land, alarm bells going off somewhere in the haze that had become your logic.

“You can’t — ahh! You’re gonna bite there?!” 

Alastor laughed but didn’t stop working his fingers. The gaze he set on you was patronizing, but amused. As if you were a child who had unwittingly said something profane or clever. 

“No, darling, not today. That’s a bit much for the first time.” His voice dropped a couple octaves when he continued, leaning in to speak into your ear, “But I’d be happy to indulge you, should you enjoy our little experiment.”

You whimpered, your hand on him tightening as his lips planted a kiss behind your ear. 

He continued to pepper your neck, pausing now and then to tease you with a lick or graze of teeth. All the while his hand remained hard at work, your hips mindlessly rolling into his touch. The sound of your panting and moans harmonized with Alastor’s static, making the air around you heady and alive. Pressure mounting and threatening to spill over like the coil in your belly.

It was so hard to concentrate, feeling so surrounded by him. Alastor’s mouth had now latched onto your neck where it met your shoulder, sucking a bruise you knew would take at least a week to recover from. You didn’t even realize you had been saying his name with nearly every rock of your hips, chasing down your orgasm as he growled against your skin. His own hips grinding himself into nothing but the seat of the chair as his arm wrapped around your back to hold you close. 

The sting of his nails digging into your ribs didn’t even phase you as he gave your neck its first real bite. You cried out, hips stuttering as his tongue soothed over the raw patch of flesh. It hadn’t been strong enough to break the skin, but the rush of heat you felt prickling your neck and cunt was undeniable.

You wanted more.

 “Alastor, please… I’m so close,” you whined, feeling secure enough now to clasp your hands behind his neck. 

Whether it was what you said or how you clung to him, something triggered him to lose his composure, if momentarily. But you feared you would never forget the popping feeling of your stockings breaking under the force of his claw or the sound of tearing fabric that followed. His thumb swept down into your folds to collect your slick before resuming its task, rubbing harsh circles over your clit. The direct contact was almost overwhelming and you keened, high and desperate. Earning a low rumble of satisfaction from him in return.

Soon there was another sensation, something cool and slippery probing your entrance. It pushed forward just as he bit you again, this time on the shoulder. You felt your skin give in, the slightest puncture of his teeth sending a thrill through you. His saliva stung the minor wound, but the appendage working your core was more than a distraction. The lewd sound of your arousal now competing with your mindless cries.

“This is it, darling. Are you ready?” Alastor’s voice was husky and eager, while his eyes threatened to eat you alive. In a sense, he was, and all you could do to answer him was nod your head. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth before he hid his face in your neck again, placing open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips could touch before he settled back over the bruise. You moaned as he lapped at it, his tongue wide and firm, contrasting the pace of his thumb and what you now assumed to be one of his tentacles inside you. The last thing you truly remembered was his mouth parting over your skin. Everything that followed seemed to merge into one.

Was it your climax that urged him to bite down? Or was it the bite that set it off? It was more than possible that they happened in tandem… Alastor always did have impeccable timing. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your vision went white, the force of your orgasm with the exquisite pain of the bite nearly sending you into unconsciousness. As you began to return to yourself, it felt as if your body had three heartbeats. One in your chest, one in your neck, and one between your hips. 

You were vaguely aware of feeling wet. Sweat had made your clothes stick to your skin, but you could feel it in your lap as well as on your chest and back. The tentacle had retreated from your core and Alastor’s hand was back on your hip, his other still holding you against him as you heaved to catch your breath. He was breathing harshly through his nose, his teeth still buried in you as his mouth siphoned as much of your blood as it could. Your pulse seemed to match the rhythm of his swallowing throat, the early signs of pain beginning to bubble under your skin as your orgasm and adrenaline waned.

But on the whole, you felt incredible. Euphoric. As if your entire body had let go of some unknown burden, it was a delicious relief you knew you’d be chasing for the rest of your afterlife.

After a few moments, Alastor removed himself, blood coating his chin as he smiled up at you. Eyes glazed with an almost drunken glee. “What’s the verdict?”

You leaned down and licked off some of the blood, an absent thought of whether or not it was all yours coming to mind. Though in the end, that wasn’t really important, was it? Especially not when you pulled back to take in his voracious face, ears pinned to his head as his hands gave you a squeeze.

“How soon can we schedule the next trust exercise?”

Alastor chuckled, low and amused. “How proactive you are. We can talk about it while I get you cleaned up.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

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[dissapointu]

“More to Love”

How each of the main Arcane characters treats you as a chubby partner, supports you through insecurities, and makes you feel completely loved:

Jinx

Jinx is immediately drawn to your softness, both inside and out. She’s not one to care about societal norms or what people say about appearances, and she makes that very clear.

“Who cares what they think?” she says, draping herself across you like a cat. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Besides, all this?”—she squeezes your side playfully—“makes you the best cuddle buddy ever.”

Jinx can sense when you’re feeling insecure, even if you don’t say it out loud. She’ll do anything to cheer you up: crack jokes, pull you into impromptu dance sessions, or draw silly caricatures of people who make you feel less-than.

When she notices you being hard on yourself, she’ll sit you down and make you look her in the eyes. “You’re mine, okay? I don’t want anyone else, so stop thinking you’re not good enough for me. You’re more than enough.” Her words may be blunt, but the sincerity in her voice is undeniable.

She loves running her fingers along your curves, tracing patterns absentmindedly while cuddling. “You’re like a human marshmallow,” she says with a grin. “Sweet, soft, and impossible not to love.”

Vi

Vi is fiercely protective of you, and your insecurities are no exception. She’s always the first to notice when you’re down on yourself and refuses to let those thoughts win.

“Hey,” she says firmly, gently tipping your chin up to meet her eyes. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. I love every inch of you—every single inch. Got it?”

She’s all about actions, too. If someone makes a rude comment about your weight, they’re likely to get a very stern talking-to (or worse) from her. “No one messes with my girl,” she’ll growl, wrapping an arm around you protectively.

Vi also has a way of making you feel like the most beautiful person in the world without even trying. Whether she’s pulling you into her lap, complimenting the way your clothes fit, or leaving kisses along your jawline, she never misses an opportunity to show you how much she loves you.

“More of you to love,” she says with a cheeky grin, kissing your cheek. “Lucky me.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s love for you is steadfast and unwavering. She’s always been someone who values a person’s heart and character above all else, and she makes sure you know that.

“Darling, your worth isn’t tied to your size,” she tells you gently, holding your hands in hers. “You’re beautiful to me in every way that matters.”

Caitlyn is incredibly supportive when it comes to helping you feel confident. She loves taking you shopping for clothes that make you feel amazing, offering compliments that never feel forced. “That color looks stunning on you,” she’ll say with a smile, her eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

When insecurities creep in, Caitlyn is patient and understanding. She’ll sit with you, listen to your concerns, and remind you of all the reasons she fell in love with you. “You’re my everything,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And nothing will ever change that.”

Ekko

Ekko is all about making you feel like a rockstar. He loves hyping you up, whether it’s complimenting your smile, your laugh, or the way you light up a room just by being in it.

“Do you even realize how incredible you are?” he asks, spinning you around playfully. “Because if not, I’ll remind you every single day.”

He’s quick to shut down any negative thoughts you have about yourself. “You’re so much more than what you see in the mirror,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “You’ve got this light, you know? And I’m the luckiest guy in the world to be near it.”

Ekko’s favorite thing is dancing with you, holding you close and spinning you around like you’re the star of your own music video. He loves how free and alive you look when you let go of your insecurities, and he’ll do anything to make you feel that way more often.

Silco

Silco may not be the most openly affectionate partner, but his devotion to you is undeniable. He values your intelligence, your loyalty, and your kindness above all else, and he makes sure you know it.

“You underestimate yourself,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “You see flaws where I see strength. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, diminish your worth.”

When you express insecurities, Silco listens intently, his gaze sharp and focused. He doesn’t offer empty platitudes but instead reminds you of the qualities that make you unique. “You’ve faced so much, and yet you stand tall. That’s what I admire most about you.”

Though he’s not one for public displays of affection, Silco shows his love through small, meaningful gestures: a hand on your back, a kiss on your temple, or the way he always makes time for you, no matter how busy he is.

“You’re mine,” he says simply, his voice low and steady. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Vander

Vander is a comforting presence, always making you feel safe and cherished. His love is warm and steady, like the foundation of a home.

“You’ve got nothing to be insecure about,” he says, pulling you into a bear hug. “You’re perfect to me, just the way you are.”

Vander has a way of making you feel loved through his actions. He’ll cook your favorite meals, leave little notes of encouragement, and hold you close whenever you need reassurance. “You’ve got a heart bigger than anyone I’ve ever met,” he tells you, his voice full of pride. “And that’s what matters.”

When you’re feeling down, Vander’s the first to remind you of your worth. “The world’s tough enough without you being hard on yourself,” he says gently. “Let me worry about keeping you safe, and you just focus on being the amazing person you already are.”

All of these characters love you for who you are, making it clear that your worth goes far beyond appearances. Whether it’s through words, actions, or unwavering support, they remind you every day just how loved and cherished you are.

[yestrday]

hihi! may i suggest the 2nd years’ reaction to a teasing but easily flustered darling? they’re like a mix of a hiyakasudere (teasedere) and a dandere. long story short, it’s kinda like “oooo you want to kiss me so bad aha” to “WAIT WHY ARE YOU GETTING SO CLOSE” kinda thingy + don’t forget to take care of yourself! don’t forget to drink water and get some rest! :)

hoooly shit this has been in my drafts for so long and i finally had a sudden spark of inspiration to finally finish it. i'm so sorry anon you've waited a terribly long time

now, for the moments where your yandere harem is not-so-yandere and relatively normal-looking

you might like: yan! academy genshin second years

you thought that you'd get to share a nice lunch with your dear friend albedo after he invited you to a nice secluded spot for the both of you to spend lunch together. the food was definitely nice— this is albedo we're talking about after all— but you couldn't help but find yourself pouting. all he had been doing all lunch was sketch away at his papers.

hmph. you think. shouldn't he give me a bit of his attention?

hoping to sneak some sort of reaction out of him, you inch closer to his drawings. he’s never had a problem with you looking at his unfinished work and yet his strong but gentle hand reach out and firmly root you to your position. “don’t move,” he mutters. and then a long period of silence follows, but this time his eyes study every inch of your face and body.

"don't you think you're starin' at me a bit too much?" you croon, flashing one of your mischievous grins at the ever stoic student with the hope of alleviating some of the awkardness you feel. "someone might think you have a crush on me.”

“maybe i do,” he hums. “what about it?” it’s so nonchalant that it’d pass through anyone’s ears as a joke, but you’re so hyper-aware of everything right now that the blush starts rising to your cheeks, gaping at him with an open mouth.

“wh– what?!” you hate how squeaky your voice is.

“oh nothing,” he resumes back to his sketching before he gives you a glance over and smirks at you. “don’t you think you’re blushing too much? someone might think you have a crush on me.”

“a– albedo!”

no one knows how xiao lets you get away with how overly touchy you are. you’re not exactly what they’d imagine to be hanging around xiao. you smile too much, flirt and tease with people, and you drag the boy around to places almost embarassing to be seen at. but xiao follows anyway. one moment he’ll go: “hmph. and why should i?” but when you pout and just whine about going with another boy, he’s immediately latching onto your arm.

you’re aware of how differently xiao treats you and to be honest, you’re a little bit smug. you like to exert your power over him time to time. pushing a little too close or trailing your fingers up his surprisingly toned muscles just to tease him.

“you’re shameful,” he’d huff and look away, but you’re delighted at how his porcelain face turns into a bright cherry shade and continue teasing him anyway.

xiao is aware of this power you have over him, but he doesn’t stop you. he likes this warm and fluttery feeling you overwhelm him with. still, it’d be nice if he could change the tables for a moment and make you stutter and blush instead.

this musing of his is shelved away in his mind until an impromptu study date comes up. poring over your textbooks for the upcoming quiz, you snack away on some nuts to help you concentrate. when xiao looks up, he sees some crumbs on you’re too focused to notice. absentmindedly, he reaches over the table and slides a finger to wipe away the crumbs. you take this the wrong.

“wh- what are you doing?!” you squeak, face blaring red. “we’re studying, you know!”

he hushes you. “hold still.”

he brings the finger to his mouth and licks up the food, confused at your shock and embarassment but no questioning it. he sits back down and resumes his studies while you spend the rest of the session covering your face with a book and fanning your face. xiao remains ever oblivious as he focuses on passing the test, unaware that his wish has already been granted.

kazuha takes your flirtatious advances seriously, because well, romance and love must be taken seriously. somewhere in the back of his mind he can sense that you’re just joking... still, let kazuha delude himself for a tiny bit.

all flirty remarks of yours are responded with sincere and genuine exclamations of love which has you blushing and running away with every encounter with him. you don’t even know why you bother anymore, but perhaps it’s the urge to see the ever so calm and serene kazuha lose his composure because of you.

it’s for the sake of blushy kazuha! you pump yourself up before pushing open the classroom doors. the boy idles by the window sill, away from the chatter of your classmates. your presence immediately has him perking up and smiling at you from across the room. you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

be still, be confident. you’re gonna get him today! 

“hi kazu~” you grin, sauntering over to him with brimming confidence. “your most favorite person is here!” you open your mouth, planning to pour out another set of cheesy pick-up lines and compliments, but kazuha reacts quicker.

“indeed, you are here right now,” he says in nigh reverence. he takes a stray lock from your hair and twirls it around his finger. “i’ve missed you over the weekend, you know?” he kisses it and smiles at you. the morning sun lights his face aglow, and the wind brushing past the window makes his hair flutter along with your heart. “oh, [your name]? you’re redder than a maple leaf.”

steam puffs out of your ears at being called out, and you stumble back, glaring at him. “i-i’ll get you one day, kazu! i swear i will!” and when you make a tactical retreat, kazuha only laughs to himself before fondly kissing the finger that held your lock of hair so tenderly.

you honestly thought that thoma would be the easily flustered type, but he's really not. it's always the same reaction out of him: you flirt, he stops, stares, and his lips crack into a brilliant yet amused smile. your charms, that have flawlessly worked on both me and women, are received like an elder brother witnessing their sibling's antics.

it makes your blood boil! really! the audacity of this guy to just shrug off your remarks when you're already growing desperate to get a reaction out of him! you up your charisma, bat your lashes more, but no, nada! it makes you a bit insecure— juuuust a little. is your allure starting to wane?

you're sulkily poking at your lunchbox, too caught up with your little dilemma to actually eat. thoma notices from across you, and his brows pinch together in concern as he regards your expression.

"is everything okay, [your name]?" he asks softly, placing a gentle hand on yours to let you know he's there. "you don't seem to have an appetite today. is the lunchbox i made not up to your liking?"

you might be sulking, but archon forbid you make thoma think his cooking wasn't up to standard! you frantically shake your head, before settling down and letting out a sigh.

"thoma~" you let out a whine, grasping his hand on yours with both of yours. you pout as prettily as you can, letting the lips you meticulously glossed this morning do their job, bat your lashes, and doing everything and anything you can in your power to turn it up a hundred times more. "be honest with me. do you find me pretty at all?"

his eyes widen at the question. "o– of course, i do, [your name]! there's no one in this school who doesn't find you attractive." something dark flickers in his eyes for a moment as he mutters lowly. "believe me."

that shadow disappears as soon as it comes, and squeezes your hands reassuringly. "more than just being attractive, i like you for who you are." his soft green eyes crease downward in a fond look, and you think your heart is racing a hundred miles per second. "i'm here with you, aren't i?"

you do your utmost best to respond, but your tongue fails you. your brain has short-circuited, and you can barely hear anything than the pounding of your heart and the muffled worried calls of your name. you slump in your seat, steam coming out of your brain and dizzy from the heartburn. you are defeated at your game.

there are advantages and disadvantages to flirting with the scaramouche. when you shoot him one of your teasing remarks or sidle a bit too close to his side, the people around you look at you like you're crazy.

and you are. you're crazy obsessed with his reactions, how sardonic and dry-humor they are but so cute and feisty. so what if his glares keep getting scarier and scarier, if his lips curl up in a sneer whenever he sees you. you don't waste a single moment in trying to get a reaction out of him!

"hey, scara~♪" your head pops out from the corner while he's busy with his locker, and glances at you before resuming with his work. "you're as cute as ever as always!"

"and i can see that you still insist on being annoying," he says plainly, before slamming his locker shut and fixing you with his signature dirty glare. "when will you stop bothering me, or do i have to put up with your nonsense until graduation?"

"only if you'll have me~"

"idiot," he scoffs. "to be disturbing me like this day in and day out. you have some nerve, [last name]. are you really that keen on breaking my peace? or—" he studies your face carefully, before a smug smile breaks out on his lips. "are you really that obsessed with me?"

your mind blanks out at the sudden accusation and you can feel the heat rising in your face. "o–obsessed with you? don't be absurd! i– you– you're not the only one, you know! don't get too full of yourself." your face reddens further as his smirk only grows, and you stomp your foot childishly. "believe me!"

"tut, tut, [last name]. you won't get further in this society if you wear your hearts on a sleeve like that. but don't worry." he lifts your chin up with a slender finger, and as much as that knowing grin of his is humiliating, you can't help but appreciate how alluring the expression is on him. "since you're so obsessed with me, i don't mind letting a commoner like you live under my care when the time calls for it."

[seoulzie]

daydreams & doodles

WHEREIN: huening mindlessly doodles on your arm pairing: college!hyuka x gn!reader genre: fluff warning: none (i think..)

the sun streamed through the classroom windows, casting warm patterns on the desks. you sat in the middle row, absently tapping your pen against your notebook. today’s lesson was a blur, the teacher’s voice a distant hum.

next to you, huening kai was equally disengaged, his focus not on the blackboard but on your arm.

you glanced at him, a small smile playing on your lips as he gently took your arm and started doodling. his concentration was adorable, his tongue slightly poking out as he drew tiny stars, hearts, and little animals. each stroke was light and delicate, the ink forming whimsical patterns on your skin.

“hey, what’s that supposed to be?” you whispered, trying to suppress a giggle.

huening looked up, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “it’s a surprise,” he whispered back, a grin spreading across his face.

as he continued, you found yourself watching him more than paying attention to the lesson. the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the slight curve of his lips as he enjoyed his impromptu art session – it was all endearing.

suddenly, the classroom fell silent. you snapped your head up to see the teacher standing directly in front of you both, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. huening froze, the marker still poised over your arm. the teacher’s stern gaze swept over the two of you, making your cheeks flush with heat.

“mr. huening,” the teacher said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement, “i don’t believe doodling on your classmate is part of the curriculum.”

a ripple of laughter spread through the classroom. huening kai’s face turned a deep shade of red, his eyes wide with embarrassment. he quickly pulled his hand away, trying to hide the marker behind his back.

“i’m sorry, mrs. lee,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

mrs. lee’s expression softened, and she sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. “just try to focus on the lesson, both of you,” she said, her tone gentle. “and maybe save the artwork for after class.”

as she walked away, the laughter died down, and the class resumed its usual rhythm. you looked over at huening, who was still blushing furiously, avoiding your gaze. you nudged him gently with your elbow.

“hey, it’s okay,” you said softly. “i like your doodles.”

he glanced at you, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “really?”

“really,” you assured him, holding up your arm to admire the little drawings. “they’re cute. just like you.”

he peeked at you, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "thanks," he mumbled. "sorry for getting you in trouble."

"it's fine, hyuka" you assured him. "besides, i kind of like being your canvas."

huening's blush deepened, but he couldn't help but chuckle. "maybe next time, i'll just stick to paper," he said, giving you a sheepish grin.

© 2024 seoulzie

[puppyxprincess]

Training Logs, Entry #2

6/23/24

I’m happy to report that her training has been a continued success.

The subject is eagerly submissive to me, her dedication grows in intensity with every passing day.

Our baseline levels of trust have far exceeded my expectations for her, which I attribute to her sharp judge of character. She has deemed me “safe” and has in turn, handed herself over to me willingly. I’m gaining a strong appreciation for subjects so happy to be trained.

I just concluded a rather impromptu training session, the subject requested I ask her some questions to further my knowledge on hypnosis, utilizing her existing stores of information on the subject. She suggested i drop her, making her incredibly tired and deep in trance before asking these questions, to see if she could recall our conversation in full.

At first I was intimidated, I must be transparent. An impromptu session stripped away my ability to be prepared for anything, to have my goals and path mapped out, my triggers pre-planned, all of it, gone. I almost told her no, I wasn’t feeling up to it, I couldn’t possibly engage in anything successfully. Better to wait than risk damaging progress, damaging her faith in my abilities, is how i reasoned with myself.

But something possessed me. Maybe it was the two drinks i’d just finished, maybe it was my intuition, my unwillingness to let the opportunity slip out of my hands.

I agreed to her request, how could i deny an eager puppy the chance to train?

I set up my equipment and took a deep breath. I began my greetings, already donning that syrupy, lilting tone reserved near exclusively for her, and I hoped inspiration would strike me.

I asked about her favorite inductions, how to decide on one, how to avoid falling into routine and allowing it to become predictable.

She began to explain using some comparison to a math concept I couldn’t really grasp, but I began to understand her point when an idea appeared to me.

Previously, my pet had mentioned to me that the bell jingling on my cat’s collar worked as an “ears perked” sort of effect. Instantly capturing her focus and drawing it to my words.

I removed the cat’s collar and shook gently it a few times near the mic. The puppy immediately lost her words, it was so wonderful to see. I prompted the pet to continue, but only let her get a few words out before i let the bell chime again. She lost her train of thought, immediately becoming focused on the sound of the bell, her thoughts slipping from her mind.

It was hard not to laugh, seeing the composed, intellectual subject immediately reduced to a brainless puppy. The efficacy was truly shocking.

I took the opportunity to wield her focus against her, knowing her predisposition would be to go deeper, to agree with anything i might suggest.

“Do you even remember the point you were trying to make?”

“Can you even answer my questions, pup?” The subject clung to the explanation that she could, but that she was just so focused on me, it was hard to let anything else take precedence.

“Doesn’t it seem like it would be so much nicer to put all that aside and be a Silly Puppy for me instead?”

At this point, her responses consisted only of an eager “mhm!” or two, if she was feeling very excited by the suggestion.

I interspersed the jingling bell over any pauses, increasing her focus on me each time. This began to work so well she stopped being able to respond. At this point, I asked the subject if she’d prefer to remain under and fall asleep, or if I should bring her back up. She requested “Up,” so after a few more moments i began to bring her out of trance.

The subject was still dazed when she began to communicate her amazement at my insecurity, even going as far as to ask if I had been joking, fully aware of my ability to drop her so quickly and effectively.

I laughed, assuring her that the entire session had been unprepared, allowing my ego to swell at the high praise from my far-more-experienced subject.

Over a brief discussion of the session, as my pet spoke to me, I couldn’t resist the urge to use the bell against her again. She slipped back down easily, blindly obedient once more.

After playing with my favorite subject a bit more, I brought her back to herself, and had to force myself to stay quiet. Every time I opened my mouth I pushed her back into that sharp focus and her brain into a state of arousal that rendered her unable to sleep.

One of the last things we talked about before I finally allowed her to rest was how towards the very beginning, when she first lost her train of thought, she found it difficult to grasp what she had been speaking about even once out of trance.

Something of note regarding this pet is that she has often recounted how ineffective memory impacting trances have been for her, likely due to her history of hypervigilance and perceived need to protect herself. Communicating that my spontaneous session may have allowed even a small memory to slip out of her grasp has emboldened me to try again and test my skills with a more overt memory play session with her.

It definitely serves my purposes that she’s so eager to hand over full control to me, not one ounce of doubt or distrust towards me present in her pretty little mind.

My next goal has been set: Make the puppy forget something.

I think it will prove easy enough.

[bokutos-biddys]

-I’ve Got A Race To Win-

Xaiver Thorpe X Reader

Part Two

Make out session. And you can very easily tell how down bad I am for this man with how many times I have the reader ‘let out a shaky breath’ Nothing specified about the reader except the fact that you’re shorter than Xavier (which shouldn’t be hard considering he’s 6’2) and that you’re a fast runner. Also I hate that this is what gets me out of my writing funk but oh well

Please tell me if there are any spelling mistakes.

This is about Xaiver and NOT Percy Hynes-White

____ ____

You were going to win. You had to. Everything was in place for you to win. All you had to do was get the flag, run back to the canoe, and win. And even with Xavier being your best friend you were not going to let him beat you.

So why despite all your determination was Xavier standing in the forest with both your flags above his head where you couldn’t reach.

“Looking for something?” He asks, a smug smirk on his face.

“This is a stupid game Xavier. Just drop my flag and run back with yours.” You say walking up to him, hands on your hips.

“I could, but as I hate to admit, you’re faster than me and would make it back to your canoe before I could get halfway.” He replies, moving to put both flags in one hand, dropping the other to his side.

“So we’re at an impasse, what do you suppose we do? Play rock paper scissors?” You quip back impatiently, crossing your arms.

“Hmm, I might have a better idea.” He says, leaning down so your faces are mere inches apart. Which has more of an effect on you than you would like to admit.

You let out a shaky breath before replying “Oh yeah, what’s that?” You ask, leaning in closer to him, hoping to psych him out.

He stares at you, no, your lips, are you imagining that? You can’t really tell considering how nervous you are. Xaiver has never given you any hints, least not any you picked up. Was he giving you hints? You try to think back throughout your friendship for anything that might show the potential of him having romantic feelings for you. None, you presume, but whatever games he’s playing with you now is a very large hint and your honestly pretty confused about it and wow your costume was getting hot.

You bite your lip and he very noticeably notices. This, you realize, might be your chance. With the both of you starting to lean in you can’t help but think about the two flags in his hands.

It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, distract you, then run off with his flag, hoping to throw you off enough that he makes it to the shore first. Well, two can play at that game.

But as soon as his lips are on yours you realize two might not be able to play at that game. Your hands are in his hair in an instant, has it always been this soft? You really don’t know. All you can focus on is him.

You’re practically done for when he grabs your waist with his free hand. He nips at your bottom lip and you let out probably the hundredth shaky breath in the span of five minutes. But who could blame you when he drops the flags and moves his hand to tangle in your hair like that.

You're both pulling, pushing, biting, honestly whatever that could bring the both of you closer. He almost makes you whimper with how he’s placing short kissing on your jaw then drawing longer one from your lips. You’re positively entangled with one another.

He groans when you tug on his hair to pull him away, moving to nip at his neck. But before he can get a strong grip on you you push him to the ground, dashing to grab your flag.

He looks completely undone, with a hickey forming on his neck and an exasperated look on his face, it’s honestly one of the hottest things you’ve seen and it takes everything in you to not pounce on him and continue your impromptu make-out session.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I have a race to win.” You say, and admittedly your voice quivers a little bit that’s besides the point.

You only hear his squawks of indignation as you're running away, trying to wipe at the remnants of his makeup on your own face.

Thankfully the others don’t mention your flustered state, only asking what took you so long.

You win, of course, you knew you would, but something about the look on Xavier’s face as he watches you receive the trophy tells you, you’ll probably be paying for your little stunt later.

[byhees]

casual affection.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 700 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship — more

a/n. blank

heeseung

would help you dry your hair after a long day; it’d be the late hours of the night, and he’d stand by the edge of the bed, hairdryer in one hand, brush in another.

makes it a point to kiss you, on the lips, before you two part on your own ways in the early mornings; slips a little playful comment before seeing you off.

would often put an arm around your shoulder, lightly pulling you close to his side with a small smile that almost goes unnoticed.

regularly picks up your favourite snacks on the way home, to the point where the cashier at the convenience store recognises the usual.

jongseong

would learn the lyrics to your all-time favourite songs, so you two can sing them together as an impromptu karaoke session.

holds your hand in almost every situation, finding it comforting to intertwine fingers with you, hands moulding together like perfect puzzle pieces.

cooks two servings when making food, because he doesn’t want you to come home empty-stomached.

keeps an extra hoodie at the backseat of his car, because he knows of your habit of forgetting, and doesn’t want to see you cold on a chilly day.

jaeyun

would change the lyrics of a song, so that it says your name instead; finds your delayed reaction and realisation adorable.

leaves some of your favourite shirts of his aside, and comes up with silly excuses to let you keep them.

brushes stray strands of hair out of your face, and takes the opportunity to leave a peck on, either, your forehead or your lips.

always slips his heat pack in the pocket of your jacket, not wanting you to freeze in the particularly snowy weather.

sunghoon

would be your personal alarm, waking you up to prevent any oversleeping for important events; tells you you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and ruffles your already tousled hair.

helps you put on a necklace; his hands leave feathery touches on your neck, and as he hooks the chain to the clasp, he has the cutest grin plastered on his face.

takes candid pictures of you when you’re in your element, and uses them as his lock screen.

would rub your back when you’re feeling down; additionally, he whispers sweet consolations and peppers your face with kisses.

seonwoo

would help you remove your makeup, and any large hair accessories, when you’re feeling tired from a long day; does so without any hesitation, despite being fatigued himself.

offers his shoulder for you to rest your head on; soft conversations as he gently caresses your palm, fiddling with your fingers.

draws a bath for you, and even prepares your favourite playlists.

gives you handmade gifts, even without a specific occasion; dedicates a good hour or two to folding origami pieces, and making cards.

jungwon

would send you heaps of pictures of his dog whenever you’re away, hoping that they’d serve as an energy boost for tiring days.

brings around a polaroid camera nearly everywhere he goes, because he loves snapping pictures of you; keeps his personal favourites at the back of his phone.

buys you flowers when you least expect it; always writes a short and sweet note with each ‘flower delivery’, something quirky like ‘if you were a flower, i would pick you, one thousand (and one) percent!’

a hand is always absentmindedly resting on your lower back, because he just likes being by your side.

riki

would tuck your blanket neatly around your body when it slides down, and press a kiss on your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.

hypes you up for even the small things, and is there 24/7 to support you; movie marathons and late-night talks under the covers afterwards to hear how things went.

lightly bumps your shoulder whenever you say something funny; it soon escalates to chaotic, yet unified, cackling and wheezing (but it’s so oddly comforting).

buries his face into the crook of your neck when hugging.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[cowgurrrl]

Okayyy bear with me, this for our OFTM! What about a celeb who meets actress!reader at some awards or something or they’ve worked together and the pictures turn out so gorgeous and he uploads it with some cheesy lovey dovey caption and it kinda sets Joel off with jealousy and a bigggg green eyed monster. It doesn’t help that Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah start pulling his leg in their fam group chat saying oh wow look at mom with him or something and y’know tommy would pull his leg more to get a reaction out of Joel. And Joel is just alternating between fighting for his life in the chat and fighting for his wife with actress!reader and just comedy and fluffiness????

(also I have one more inspo that I dreamt of sending you in the next one)

OOOOOHHHH LOVE THIS I haven’t played around with jealous joel in SUCH A LONG TIME also I know you weren’t necessary referring them but I immediately thought of Jessica Chastain and Oscar Isaac because I MEAN

ANYWAYS HERE WE GO

Wildflower & Barley

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: this ask

Warnings: ✨multi-media✨, jealousy, life stuff, literally just them being the sweetest couple

You sigh as you read the text. Joel is normally very comfortable in your relationship, unshaken by the various actors and actresses who’ve played your love interests and partners on screen. He shrugs off silly press comments, sits through love scenes remarkably well, and even goes as far as congratulating your costar on a job well done. “Not that it’s hard to pretend to be in love with her,” he said when asked about it in a red carpet interview a few years ago. But, once in a blue moon, he gets jealous and a little insecure. You figure Spencer’s post didn’t help with the little green monster sitting on his shoulder the past few months. 

With all your littles in school now, you’re extremely busy. You’re constantly running around from baseball practices, PTA meetings, recitals, doctor’s appointments, birthday parties, and more. Not to mention making time for all the Miller-Hernandez-Caradonna-Pierce grandkids, Isaac, Cecilia, and JJ. Joel’s working on a new album and getting his record label up and running while you’re not only directing and co-producing a smaller film while acting in a different one and getting ready to go on a (limited) press tour. You and Joel haven’t had the most time to catch up, and it feels like you’re passing ships. It’s temporary. You know it is, but it doesn’t feel good to see your costars more than you get to see your husband. You’re almost positive Joel’s jealousy stems from that. 

“Hey, you ready to get back to it?” Your co-producer, Ava, asks, jolting you out of your thoughts, and you nod. 

“Let’s do it.” You say as you tuck your phone into your back pocket. The day goes relatively smoothly with only one broken prop and an impromptu refresher session with one of your actors and the armorer. You make it a point to end the day early so you can get home and talk to Joel before one of you can fall asleep on the couch (a bad habit you’ve both developed recently), and thank god you did. 

The second you open the door, you can smell the delicious dinner Joel is making in the kitchen and hear the music he’s blasting through the Alexa. “Mom!” Sammy yells as he and the girls run over in a flurry of overlapping stories and demands for hugs and kisses. Even though Sam is nine now and on the cusp of thinking he’s too cool for his parents, he’s still your little love bug. 

“Mommy, will you come draw with me?” Violet asks and you smile as you tuck a curl behind her ear.

“Of course, baby. Can I go say hi to Daddy first?” 

“Fine but hurry!” Violet whines, making you laugh. You hang up your purse by the front door and toe off your shoes, already feeling better with your heels off, and pad into the kitchen. Joel is wearing the apron you got him for Christmas last year that says “Caution: Hot Dad” and made the older girls groan in embarrassment. You laugh when you see it on him, and he quickly turns down the Bee Gees to hear you. 

“You’re home early.” He says as he leans down to peck your lips and wrap an arm around your waist. You chase his lips and kiss him again before pulling away to look at him.

“Wanted to catch you before bedtime,” you say, and he hums. “Plus, we’re making good time on production. We can afford to cut a little early.”

“Well, I‘m glad you did.” He says. You can hear the kids in the other room playing loudly and you know Violet is gonna burst in any moment and order you to draw with her so you savor the semi-private moment with him.

“Are we okay?” You ask quietly and he takes a deep breath. 

“We’re okay.” 

“It’s okay if we’re not.” 

“Baby,” he soothes, slipping a hand in your back pocket. “We’re okay, I promise. I just… had a moment.” 

“It’s fine to have a moment. I don’t want you to keep that from me just because we’re busy,” you say. “You don’t actually think I’d trade you in for someone else or whatever the fuck Tommy said, right?” He sighs and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Just… please tell me this isn’t like a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing.” He says. You would laugh if he didn’t seem as upset as he does just because of how bizarre the idea is. How could anyone ever compare to him? How could he even think that you’d leave him like that?

“This isn’t a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing. Not even close to it. Spencer has been married to his wife longer than we’ve been married and they’re solid. I promise, he just posted that to get people excited about the movie.”

“You’re not wearing your ring in the picture.” He says. You pull the chain hiding under your collar out and show him.

“I was. You just couldn’t see it.” 

“How long have you had that?” 

“Since we got engaged. You’ve definitely seen it before.” You say, laughing a little at the surprised look on his face. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that’s why you wore it. I thought you got it as a wrap gift or somethin’.” He defends. It makes sense why he wouldn’t know. You only take the necklace off when it can’t be hidden under the costume, and even then, it’s normally tucked into your pocket or, at the very least, hidden safely in your trailer. It’s a part of your routine to put your ring back on at the end of a shooting day or between breaks to help you transition back into your real life, which means Joel only sees it after it’s returned to its rightful spot. Even the few times he’s been on set filming something with you, you’ve been so busy that he didn’t have time to notice it. 

“Good to know I can still surprise you all these years later,” you say. He only looks a little embarrassed when he reaches around you to turn off the stove. The kids are, thankfully, still occupied, and you take the opportunity before it can slip away. “Joel, I adore you. I am still as helplessly in love with you as I was when we were in New York for the first time. There isn’t anybody else for me, okay? It’s you. It’s always gonna be you. So you don’t need to worry about costars or living Brangelina or whatever because you are it for me.” He works at his jaw as he processes your words, and you wait. Joel’s mind has always been an elusive one, so you like watching his gears turn. 

“Okay,” he mumbles finally. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to tell me when you’re feeling this way,” you say, kissing his jaw. “Besides, if you’d said something earlier, I would’ve been able to tell you that you’re a much better kisser than Spencer.”

“I was just gettin’ over the post, and now I have to watch y’all kiss?!” He groans dramatically, and you laugh. 

“You’re the one who married an actor.” 

“And I’d do it again.” He says as he kisses you, crowding your space so you’re stuck between him and the counter. It’s broken between giggles and kitchen timers beeping but it isn’t until Violet tugs at your shirt do you fully break away from Joel.

“Mommy, you said you would come draw with me.” She pouts, and you immediately drop down to her level.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I did say that. Daddy just had a hard day so I was trying to cheer him up. I can come draw with you now.” You explain, and she gasps, looking between you and Joel.

“Daddy!” She exclaims, putting her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a bad day?” 

“Because it’s not your job to fix Daddy’s day.” 

“But I want to! Can I give you a kiss?”

“I wanna give Daddy a kiss!” Sophia runs in, launching herself into Joel’s arms. He scoops both girls up and kiss his cheeks simultaneously, making you both laugh. 

“Thank you, girls. You always make me feel better.” He says, and they giggle.

“What about Mom?” Sam asks. He’s too big and too tall for you to pick him up anymore, but he snuggles perfectly under your arm and squeezes you tight. 

“You’re so sweet, honey. Thank you.” You say, kissing his head. 

“Are you better now?”

“So much better.” 

“Daddy, are you better?” Violet asks. Joel meets your eyes over the heads of the kids and smiles. It’s sweet and just for you, and you can’t help but smile back. 

“I’m perfect.”

[moonchildstyles]

Older h having a business dinner and taking pretty girl and she’s nervous but excited to dress up fancy next to him :( dressed in her nice dress and heels :( and she holds he bicep walking into the restaurant together :(( whispering in his ear asking what the difffernt hors d’oeuvres are :(( and making friends with the other girls there :(( and h is so proud of her his pretty perfect girl :(

wordcount: 6.5k+

—————

Harry pretended as if he wasn't sneaking peeks through the bathroom mirror as he trailed back and forth over the tile, tie hanging limply around his neck as he took his time knotting it. (Y/N) was still perfecting the styling of her hair, a hot tool in hand as she twisted and turned in the mirror, brows knitted in concentration at every angle. The very tip of her tongue stretched out between her lips as she pinched a section of hair between her fingers, tracing the tool over the strands in a careful run. 

"Do you need help with that, H?" (Y/N) chirped, dropping the now styled bit of hair as she flicked her gaze to the man pacing behind her. 

Her eyes traveled over the set he had donned for the company dinner party he was escorting her to, the same reaction she had given when he first shrugged into the crisp button up and well-tailored pants. The sleek grey lines of his suit were different than the casual blazer combos he tended to prefer when he took her out on more extravagant dates, but the polarity seemed just what was drawing her eye to the way he fiddled about.

"No, I've got it," he told her, biting back his smile, "I jus' keep getting distracted." 

It was the way he looked at her that told her exactly what was stealing his attention, leaving (Y/N) to grow flustered as she dropped her gaze in the mirror. "Sorry," she told him, now mimicking the way he had to sink his teeth into his bottom lip to stave off a sheepish smile. 

"Don't be sorry," he smiled, finally relenting and finishing the knot of his tie, "'S a good distraction. You're looking very pretty already." 

"I'm not even finished yet," she said, placing the hot tool down now that she'd perfected the bits she could spy in the mirror, "I still have to finish my makeup and get dressed." 

Trailing his gaze down her hair, Harry spotted a stray section that didn't match the pattern she had created with the hot tool. "Exactly," he smiled, reaching around her for her styling tool of choice while it was still hot, "Y'can only get even prettier from here, which doesn't seem possible, but y'prove me wrong every time." 

"What are you doing?" she asked, following his hands as he took the styling tool behind her back. 

"Jus' missed a piece," he mumbled, pinching the section in question. After all the times he'd seen her do the same thing to her hair, it wasn't hard to figure out how to operate the tool as he went in careful, timed runs over the pieces. "Have y'picked out your dress yet?" he asked her, distracted some as he worked. 

"Huh?" 

Harry had to bite back his laugh at her response. He flicked his gaze up to match hers in the mirror while he continued his work on her hair. "Your dress. I know y'were between those two, have y'decided yet?" 

"Oh, sorry," she said, blinking harshly as if to regain her attention from where she began daydreaming with him in the rearview. "I haven't picked yet, no. I need to before I do my makeup, though, but I just don't know." 

Pursing his lips, Harry combed through her hair with his fingers as he searched for any other stray strands. "What's making it hard to decide?" 

"I don't know," she mused, staying still with the help of his hand on her shoulder as he reached for a tucked away section at the back of her neck, "I don't—Neither of them... I don't know." 

Finished with his impromptu styling session, Harry replaced the hot tool on the counter before unplugging the cord. Looking to her face, he noticed too much apprehension there to be the same girl that he had woken up beside this morning. He didn't like seeing her flounder for her words like that or pluck at the stray string on her bathrobe (it was his, really, but she was borrowing it). 

"What's the matter, hm?" he crooned, dropping his arms to loop around her waist with his chin carefully tucking into her neck. 

"Nothing."

All it took was a look with a raised brow to get her to reform her answer. 

"Those dresses," she started with a sigh, "I usually wear those to work things—interning fairs, or interviews, or whatever professional stuff I have to look nice for. I don't really... like them that much but I don't want to look so young compared to everything there. Especially with what happened the last time I went to your office." 

Harry sighed, pouting now that he heard the cause of her nerves. It wasn't a surprise to hear this, but he had figured since she hadn't voiced any of these concerns prior, not even as recently as this afternoon, that she had been lucky to skip over it. But, picturing the dressed laid out on his bed, he remembered thinking they did look out of place in his pretty girl's wardrobe, the kind of garments she wouldn't hold to the front of her closet unless she felt the occasion called for a peplum waist or a pencil skirt. 

"Pretty," he crooned, using his grip on her waist to turn her in his arms until he could get a good look at her without the help of a reflection. "Y'don't want to wear either of those?" 

"Not really, but—" 

He shook his head as soon as he heard her conjunction. "Then y'don't have to wear either of them, okay? Don't worry about what anyone else will be wearing, or thinking, or anything. I want y'to feel comfortable and pretty. That's all that matters." 

"But, last time—" 

"Remember what we talked about with that? That they don't matter, because we love one another and we don't care about any of that?" It still stung a bit to talk about what happened the last time she got in her head about what their age gap meant, but he knew it was the only way to reference how easy it was to let go of those concerns. 

"I know," she peeked up at him through the fan of her lashes, "I'm scared, though." 

"What are y'scared of, sweetheart?" he prodded, his hands dropping to her hips to give a reassuring squeeze to the doughy fullness. 

She shook her head, dropping her gaze to where the knot of his tie was slightly crooked. (Y/N) busied her nervous hands by loosening the length of fabric and retying his off-kilter not. "I don't want anyone to be mean to me—or us. I want them to like me." 

Harry pet one of his hands down the length of her back, using the spread of his palm to hold her closer to his chest as she worked on his tie. "No one is going to be mean to you, lovely. I promise.  'M going to be there the whole time, and there's no reason for anyone to say anything like that to you, again. I wouldn't take y'somewhere where I thought y'wouldn't have fun or be happy." 

"I know," she murmured, her fingers slowing as she threaded the folds of fabric together. 

"Then, trust me, pretty. I've got you. You and me, right?" 

A delicate smile touched at her features at his words. "Yeah. You and me." 

He didn't hesitate to then cradle her cheeks in his hands, tipping her head up just so that he could seal his lips over hers. The contact was sweet, affectionate in the way he carefully held her with the melt of his lips over her pout. Drawing away only to nudge the tip of his nose against hers in a puppy's kiss had (Y/N) smiling up again, bright and lovely as the way he woke with her. 

"C'mon," he beckoned her, walking her back to his bedroom with guiding steps, "We've got to pick out a dress for you, right?" 

"Okay," she sighed dreamily up to him, hesitating before spinning around in his arms and holding her hand in his. She skated her gaze completely over the dresses laid out on his bed, the professional garments he was going to find a way to shove to the back of her closet now that he knew the intention behind picking them out in the first place. Just before she led him to cross the threshold of his wardrobe with her, (Y/N) perked up with a bounce in her step. She dropped his hand only to turn on her heel towards him. "You still have that white dress you got me a couple of weeks ago here, right?" 

"Should be somewhere back there, I think," Harry pointed out, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the excitement returning to her. 

"You don't think it's too much, right?" she asked, pulling the hanger from the rod to show off the gown he'd purchased on her behalf weeks prior. 

The cowl neckline of the dress made way for the sleeves to drop down, the bands of fabric aiming to drape over the mid of her bicep. Clean, white runs of fabric made up the cinched bodice before the line hit her hips, flaring into something looser to follow the line of her legs. The effect would give the skirt a flourish with every step she made. Harry's favorite bit about the whole piece, was the slit that ran over one side, high enough he could already imagine the length of thigh that would be unveiled. 

"Y'feel pretty in it? Like yourself?" he questioned, leaning against the doorjamb as he gazed at her. 

It was immediate the way she gave him a shy smile, nodding her head.

"Then it's perfect." 

—————

"One more kiss before we go?" 

(Y/N)'s pleading was unwarranted, Harry having already been leaning over the center console the second he heard the word kiss fall from her lips. After getting her dressed up and being her second in command while she finished her makeup, the drive over had been full of his pretty girl singing along to whatever song she had plugged into his speakers. Watching the way she blossomed into herself the second she settled into her skin instead of trying to navigate her way into something more 'professional' had made his heart ache. There was no need to beg for a kiss when she had him moments away from falling to his knees in worship. 

Fitting his hand around the back of her neck, he pressed his lips to hers in an adoring kiss. The slip of her lip gloss pillowed over his own mouth, the scent of raspberries and sugar lingering in her kiss. Given the fact the gala had started a half an hour ago and Harry was an executive who should be there to make the rounds and greet everyone, there wasn't much time to spend making out in his car despite how much he may have wanted to. 

Giving her one more peck against her pout, Harry pulled away with a small smile on his lips.

"Ready?" he murmured, forcing himself to keep from being drawn in by the sheen of glitter covering her eyelids. 

"Ye—Wait," she cut herself off, a pinch returning to the middle of her brows as she gazed down at his lips. Cradling his cheeks in her hands, she used the pads of her thumbs to carefully trace over his mouth. She worked diligently, not even skipping a beat when he broke into a smile at her actions. Once she was finished, she raised her fingers up for him to catch the sweet, sheer raspberry hue that had transferred from her lips to his own, glitter and all. "There—now we're ready," she said, using a discarded napkin from the glove compartment to clean her hands. 

"Thank you, pretty," he told her, resisting the urge to smooth a kiss over her lips once more. He wouldn't have minded having her raspberry kiss on his lips for all to see, but he knew she was trying to make a good impression on his colleagues. He'd get those kisses later, anyway. 

 After opening her door for her and ensuring she stayed upright on the teetering heels she was test-running for the first time that night (something he advised against, knowing her feet were going to be beyond sore by the end of the party), Harry offered her his arm. He watched as a bright smile bloomed on her features—just the reaction he had hoped for.

"Thank you," she peeped, threading her hand around the bulk of his muscle with her delicate hold. 

He only dropped a kiss to the top of her head in response. 

Harry escorted her through the private parking garage that was offered to the associates of his company, leading to a pair of grandiose double doors that were flanked with venue workers wearing white gloves. The venue was a new one for this year's party, seeing as how the company had grown exponentially in the past year and a half. While the occasions were usually sprawling and extravagant, this one was especially so. The heightened dress code came as a request from the head of the company after having picked out the venue, wanting to match the ambiance of the crystalline chandeliers that hung over their heads after stepping over the threshold. 

(Y/N) stumbled in her steps beside him as she craned her neck to catch every detail of the space around them. "You always have parties here?" she asked in a hushed whisper, aware of the concierge escorting them to the hall where the gala was taking place. 

"Never here before, but usually fancy enough," he mumbled back, a quiet smile on his features as he watched her, "'S pretty, right?" 

"So pretty. Now I don't feel so overdressed." 

As soon as the set of doors housing the party were pushed open with a polite "Have a wonderful night" from their attendant, (Y/N) could feel her eyes widen at what lay before her. Harry had told her it was one of the more important occasions for the company when he had invited her, and she knew there was a dress code in place to ensure that everyone lived up to the ambiance of the space, but she couldn't have expected something like this.

Maybe it was because she was so used to sticky-floored bars, sweaty clubs, and rowdy frat houses, but there was no way she could have ever dreamt up the idea of her attending a party at a place like this. Those same chandeliers she had been entranced by out in the halls were now stationed on cords above their heads, twinkling like stars with every string of glass gently swaying to a song no one else could hear. Waiters in black tie were going around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes with bubbling champagne. Rounded dinner tables were dotted around the space in wait of the coursed meal that was to be brought out later along with a string of speeches by executives of the company (Harry had opted out, not one for public speaking at this scale). Everything was elegant down to the lacquered woods under their feet, to the centerpieces adorning the tables, and the twinkling music playing through the discreet speakers packed into the space. 

"Want a drink?" he asked with his head ducked down to her ear, "Or do y'want to meet people first?" 

"Drink first," she answered automatically, hand tightening around his arm. While many of her nerves had been quelled by the help of her man, there was still some tickling the back of her mind at the sight of so many people with expectations of her slated in the room. 

"Alright," he laughed, guiding her towards the set of tables stationed around the space, "Lets get y'settled in and then I'll get y'something to drink, okay?" 

"Thank you," she murmured, following him as he scanned over the space. 

Cards were placed all around the tables, set in front of each chair with a name scripted through as a seating chart. (Y/N) followed along as he beelined towards one of the front most tables, closest to the raised stage that would house the speeches for the night. It was there she found a card with Harry Styles scrawled in elegant, gilded script. For the seat just beside him was a card with her own name on it. She was definitely taking both of those home in her purse before they left. 

"Wait right here for me, alright?" he asked her, pulling out her chair at the empty table, "What did y'want from the bar?" 

"What do they have?" 

"Probably wine and champagne mostly. Do y'want me to check if they have anything mixed?" 

(Y/N) shook her head at his offer, not wanting to cause any more work for him. "Do you think they have a prosecco?" she asked as she pulled her purse from her shoulder, the bag being settled in her lap. 

"I'm sure they do," he smiled at her, knowing that it was him who had introduced her to the drink, "The sweetest one they've got, right?" 

"Yes, please." 

"You've got it, sweetheart," he beamed, dimples deep before he dropped his head to press a delicate kiss to the top of her head, "I'll be right back." 

With that, he was off in search of the bar that was pouring up each of the delicate flutes of alcohol. (Y/N) allowed her gaze to trail over the space, spotting the small groups and couplings chatting away. Seeing the dresses and gowns adorning the other women in attendance, she was relieved Harry had convinced her to stray from the business ready garments she'd condemned herself to. She was perfectly dressed within the realm of what the others were wearing, if not on the tamer side given the piles of tulle and crystals seated around. 

On instinct, she pulled out her phone after a few moments, undoing the clasp of her bag to field the notifications dotting her screen. Just as she began scrolling through the groupchat of her next group presentation, the sound of someone pulling out the chair beside her had her gaze flicking upwards. 

A man she didn't recognize had taken Harry's carded spot, light brown eyes gleaming at her with a styled coif of blonde hair on his head. His teeth seemed too white to be natural as he smiled at her, leaning his chin on his fist as he immediately got comfortable beside her. 

"Hi, how are you?" he smoothly started, catching (Y/N) off guard with the familiarity he was treating her with right away. 

"I'm doing well, thank you," she offered politely, "Um—I'm sorry, but who—" 

"Right, I'm sorry," he laughed off with a shake of his head, the gel in his hair glittering in the light, "I should have started with that, I think I just got distracted. I'm Charlie, Denise's brother." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, not knowing who Denise was but not really caring to find out through this guy, "Nice to meet you, Charlie. I'm (Y/N)." 

"Nice to meet you," he beamed at her, reaching out to catch one of her hands in a gentle shake. (Y/N) slipped her hand away when she swore she could see him thinking about pressing a kiss to it. "Do you work with my sister?" 

"No, I don't," she disclosed, looking out in the direction she thought the bar had been in, "I'm actually here as a plus one." 

"Oh, really? Who are you with?" 

A static shift was felt behind her then, like the feeling of someone entering a room that hadn't been there prior. "She's with me," Harry answered, a stern edge to his tone. A gentle hand settled on her shoulder then, palm warm against her skin as Harry ducked down with a decidedly more gentle look on his face. "Got the sweetest one they had, love. Let me know if y'want something else," he told her as he passed the wine glass off, pressing a delicate kiss to the apple of her cheek despite the prying eyes trained on them. 

"Mr. Styles, I didn't know you were coming tonight," Charlie bleated, standing from his chair with a less than confident aura he started with. 

"I didn't know you were coming either, Charlie." 

(Y/N) had to tuck her smile away behind the rim of her glass at the sound of Harry's voice. If she didn't know any better, she wouldn't have detected anything but measured pleasantness, but she could hear the lilt in his voice as he spat out Charlie's name. 

Charlie awkwardly toed at the ground for a moment, making a point to miss Harry's eye contact before he dropped his gaze down to (Y/N). "It was nice to meet you, (Y/N)." 

Before she could offer any kind of response, he was bolting away. (Y/N) didn't bother to figure out where he was going before she twisted in her spot with a crane of her neck to face Harry. "What was that about, huh?" 

Harry rolled his eyes, taking his rightful spot beside her now that it was vacant. "We told Denise he wasn't invited. He always starts trouble, and harasses anyone he deems pretty enough to hit on." 

"Why was he so scared of you?" (Y/N) laughed out, remembering the way Charlie's eyes all but bugged out of his head at the sight of her boyfriend. She knew he could be intimidating, but it was hard to picture her teddybear boyfriend as anything scary—at least to her.

"I brought m'sister one time, and he would not leave her alone until I had to scream at him outside. Denise said he was crying on the way home about how mean I am." He couldn't resist another roll of his eyes but (Y/N) could see amusement edging the annoyance. 

To be fair, if he had been bothering Gemma enough for her to need her brother's help, (Y/N) was more than sure that Charlie deserved the lashing Harry gave him. 

"Anyway," he started after taking a sip of his darker liquor, "Your drink alright?" 

(Y/N) happily nodded after her own drink, the bubbles sweet and peach-scented as they popped through her system. "It's perfect. Thank you, H." 

"Of course, sweetheart," he smiled, petting a hand over her hair in lieu of drawing her in for a kiss like usual, "Ready to meet some people then? I promise they're not all like Charlie." 

"I think so," she settled, pinching the stem of her glass as a lifeline as she followed to stand beside Harry. 

"We'll only really talk to m'favorites, alright?" he whispered to her, offering his arm up once more to escort her through the hall, "Gotta introduce y'to everyone to be nice, but after that we'll ditch them and we only have to talk to m'friends." 

(Y/N) let out a small laugh at the mention of his plan. It was nice to know that he didn't expect her to be best friends with everyone here, either.

"Harry, you made it!" a chipper voice caught (Y/N)'s attention.

A man with dark hair and a matching stubble gave her boyfriend a bright smile, beckoning him over to the small group that had been forming just off to the other side of the stage. A blonde woman dressed in a deep green gown was at his side, along with a few other people who looked just as happy to see Harry. He slipped his arm out of her reach just long enough to shake hands and hug the group they joined. (Y/N) took the opportunity to gulp down half of her prosecco. 

She absently noted the small talk that started up between he and his colleagues before he made a pointed step back to join her ranks once more. Instead of the offered arm he'd been giving her all night, he carefully wrapped it around her waist with her being tucked into his side. 

"Everyone, this is (Y/N)," he introduced her with a bright smile, dimples and all, "(Y/N), this is Jeff, his wife Glenne, Ben, Jenny, and Alexa." Harry made the round, pointing out each face to go with the name offered. She hoped she would be able to remember these people at least, this being the group that Harry seemed to like the most. 

"Hi," she offered, a wave of her hand accompanying the gesture. She suddenly felt shy under everyone's attention, unsure of what she could say that could be interesting to this group of people. 

"It's nice to finally meet you," Jeff's wife perked up, stepping away from her husband with an offered hand to shake, "He talks about you all the time." 

(Y/N) couldn't stop the bright smile that ticked up her lips. "Really?" she asked, craning her neck to look up at her boyfriend who only shook his head with a lopsided smile. 

"Constantly," Jeff chirped, elbowing Harry with a prodding grin, "He's been very nervous about tonight, haven't you, H?"

"Alright, I thought we would do this later, at least," Harry shook his head, "I haven't even finished m'drink." 

"I'm sure you will soon enough—if you plan on having a replay of last year, anyway," the woman (Y/N) is halfway sure was named Alexa piped up, a dark brow raised over her glimmering eyes. 

"Alexa," Harry warned, the threat coming out like a cloud with the grit that was lost through his smile, "We're not telling those stories, yet." 

"What stories?" (Y/N) perked up, looking to Harry whose cheeks began to burn red. 

"He hasn't told you?" Jeff laughed out, "Harry, I can't believe you haven't told her any of that." 

Standing in the middle of Harry interacting with his friends, listening in as he shared jokes with her that she was sure he'd rather had been kept hidden, (Y/N) felt any unease that had followed her there begin to melt. How was she supposed to be worried about what they would think of her dress, or nails, or hair when this small group of people was already so excited to meet her and share the best parts of Harry with her. 

Hopefully they were sat at their table, too.

—————

"Does anything look good, love?" 

Harry's arm wrapped around her shoulder squeezed just enough as he peeked at the desert menu clutched in her hands. He had been kind enough to order for her with every course of their main meal, even with his colleagues seated around them, leaving her to pick out one of the deserts for herself. The confections were being carted around on trays much like the appetizers earlier, but (Y/N) had a hard time catching where any of the waiters had wandered off to after the ending of the dinner speeches. 

"The strawberry shortcake looks good, but I don't know where anyone is," she told him, her chances of spotting the desert slimming even more as guests began to mingle again, leaving the safety of their tables. Even their table had vacated some after the last speech had been given and plates were cleared away (unfortunately, Harry's friends had been scattered all over the hall, leaving (Y/N) to do another round of introductions and much less fun small talk).

"I can find it for you, if y'want," he murmured to her, taking advantage of the growing privacy now that they were the only two at the table as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking up at him through the fan of her lashes, "We can share if you want, so you're not just getting up for me again." 

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart, okay? 'M jus' happy you're having a good time, I don't mind getting up for you," he told her, sweetened words wrapping around her as she warmed under his attention. 

"Get something for yourself too then, while you're up," she told him, something edging on stern flicking to her tone, "Please, H?" 

"Alright, alright," he faux-sighed, relenting into her request as if she were asking the world of him, "I'll get the brownie, (Y/N), jeez." 

"Stop, don't be mean," she laughed, leaning into him, "I want you to have fun, too." 

"I am, I am, promise," he murmured to her, drawing close enough to steal her breath.

A gentle brush of the tip of his nose against hers had a small smile touching at her features before Harry's own mouth melted into a kiss against hers. This was the first real kiss they'd shared since walking into the hall, leaving (Y/N) wilting into the contact after what felt like days without his affection. It wasn't until moments like these that she realized just how much she loved kissing him, even if it was juvenile the way they locked themselves in his bedroom just to makeout. 

"I'll be right back," he mumbled into her kiss before giving her one last parting peck. 

(Y/N) would never admit to the dreamy sigh that left her lips as she watched him walk away, heart full for him. 

Left alone at the table with none of Harry's familiar friends in sight, (Y/N) instinctively began puttering through her purse for her phone. But, she didn't get very far before someone stole the chair beside her (not Harry's, at least). Unlike the blonde head of hair she feared had made his way back to her, (Y/N) was greeted with a woman dressed in a white dress, long dark hair down her back with matching dark eyes. A bright streak of red painted her smiling lips as she took her in.

"You're Harry's date, right?" she started off, pleasant smile on her features that matched her voice. 

"I'm his girlfriend, yeah," (Y/N) elaborated, her hands in her lap fiddling with the case on her phone. 

"I'm Kaeleen. I work in Harry's division," she offered, tone bubbly as she reached out a hand to shake, "I love your dress, by the way." 

"Oh, wow, thank you," (Y/N) beamed, easing some at the compliment, "I was just going to tell you the same thing. We kind of match with the white and all." 

"That's what I was thinking! Even with our nails and everything," Kaeleen smiled, perking up in her seat before settling with her chin in her hands, glittery eyes trained in (Y/N)'s direction. "You and Harry are really sweet together, by the way, if you don't mind me saying." 

"No, I don't mind, thank you." The praise was getting to (Y/N) with her stretched grin and happy heart. "I'll have to tell him you said that. He's been trying really hard to make sure I'm having a good time tonight, so I think he'll be happy to hear that." 

"Since he's my boss, I only see him serious a lot of the time," she continued animatedly, "He's not mean or anything, but there's that line, you know? None of us have ever really seen him so... relaxed before. It's really nice." 

"He can be pretty reserved, yeah," (Y/N) nodded, thinking about her man and his tendencies to grow a little shy at times, "But that makes me happy he seems relaxed around me, thank you." 

"Of course," Kaeleen offered, scanning her gaze along the room, "Have you gotten to meet anyone else tonight?" 

"Mostly Harry's colleagues, like Jeff and Alexa and everyone," she prattled, trying to spot familiar faces hoping that their names would come to her, "And a few other people, but we've mostly kept to ourselves." 

"Have you met Charlie?" The scrunched look on Kaeleen's face told (Y/N) she had a similar story hiding underneath her question. 

"Unfortunately, yes." 

Kaeleen let out a bodied laugh. "Did he come onto you too?" she asked after she brought herself down. 

"As soon as I walked in. Harry was getting me a drink and I guess that was just me begging for company," (Y/N) rolled her eyes, happy to have found a common ground with her. 

"He's the worst," Kaeleen agreed, tossing a layer of dark hair over her golden shoulder, "Have you met any of the other execs?" 

"I don't think so?" she mused, "But, I'm really bad with names, so I might have but forgot already." 

"Well I hope you haven't, because Harry's one of the only nice ones, pretty much."

"Really?" 

Kaeleen only nodded her head as if she had a plethora just under the surface. "You should come sit with me and some of the other ladies," she bubbled, gesturing behind her to one of the round tables packed with chairs stolen from other arrangements to seat all of the women chattering away, "We've all been hoping we could get a chance to talk to you. I can tell you all the gossip about the office, too." 

(Y/N) couldn't help the bright smile on her features. Maybe it was silly, but the offer had her grinning large enough creases appeared around her eyes and she could feel the way her skin warmed at her cheeks. "Really?" 

"Of course!" Kaeleen beamed, "If you're alright with leaving Harry for a little while, I'll save a seat for you and everything." 

Just then, the man in question made his reappearance in the form of a gentle hand on her shoulder, rings and painted nails catching the corner of her eye. (Y/N) looked up towards him as he placed her plated desert in front of her. "H?" 

He didn't hesitate before he was dipping his head to be level with her glossy lips. "Hm?" 

"I—I think I'm going to go sit with some of the girls, if that's alright?" she murmured to him, unable to bite back her smile. 

"Of course, it is, sweetheart." He gave her a curl of his lips that matched her own, something proud edging beside his dimples. "I'll go sit with Jeff and everyone then, alright? Y'have fun, pretty. Y'come get me when you're ready to go." 

"Okay," she quietly chirped, "Love you." 

"I love you, too, pretty girl." 

She couldn't help herself before a kiss was pressed to the warmth of his cheek, his smile stretching under her lips as he lent into the contact. 

(Y/N) felt his eyes on her as she followed Kaeleen with her plate of strawberry shortcake in hand. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him looking at her with hearts in his eyes and her raspberry kiss on his cheek. She was sure her pupils had turned into hearts at the sight.

Tonight was a good night. 

—————

"Harry, stop moving," (Y/N) laughed out, pulling her pink clay covered fingers away from his face as he couldn't stop squirming. 

"But, 's cold," he whined, sounding just as petulant as he was acting. 

"So? I got my mask on and it was just as cold," she scolded him, her tone losing all authority as it slipped through her smile, "I'm almost done, anyway. Just stay still for a second." 

Taking a deep breath, Harry flexed an attitude as he settled with a huffed fine before pouting his lips. She only shook her head, using the pads of her fingers to spread the clay face mask over his skin. 

They'd only been back at Harry's place for twenty minutes, but (Y/N) had worked quick to get out of her dress and wipe her face clean of makeup. Now, clad in one of Harry's shirts and a pair of underwear, styled hair thrown atop her head, she had wanted to do something to soothe her skin after the long night with a full face of makeup. It didn't take much for Harry to relent to joining in with her, settling on the closed toilet lid as she fished out the trio of jars holding face masks she wanted to play with for the night. She had gone first, explaining to Harry what each mixture did for her skin and where she planned on putting it on his face. He had been so sweet and patient listening to her, but the second she stood between his legs and started on his own mask, that had gone out the window. 

Harry braced himself with his hands on either of her thighs, fingertips denting her flesh as he tipped his head up towards her. His dramatics quelled some as she began to spread the mask over his nose, following the bridge up to his forehead. She was only halfway aware of the flutter of his eyes opening as she worked, the fan of his lashes extending up to his brows as he looked up at her with glittery irises. 

His hand on her thigh trailed up the curve of her side, following the dip of her waist through the fabric of her borrowed shirt. He stopped only when he found the slope of her neck, fingers fitting themselves around the back. She knew exactly what was on his mind when he held her like that. 

"Harry," she warned, not stopping her work of spreading the cool clay across his skin. 

"What? 'M not doing anything." 

"We can't kiss with these on. It'll make a mess." 

Harry only shrugged. "Don't think it'd make any more of a mess than we already are. I mean you're painting m'forehead blue." 

"But—" 

"Please, pretty girl. I've barely got to kiss you all night, 's not fair." 

Finally, she removed her hands from his face, still caked in clay. She got a clear view of the same eyes she could feel watching her as she interacted with Kaeleen and the other ladies of the company, always ensuring she was still having a good time and never looking away even when she caught him. It really wasn't fair, was it? For her or for him.

Besides, if she wanted to kiss him, she had to do so now before the clay could dry and make this a much harder to execute. 

"Only for a second, though, okay?" she conditioned, relenting as she ducked down to match his gaze. 

"Only a second, love, you've got it," Harry murmured, already sounding as if he was discarding her request as he used the leverage of his hand on her neck to guide her down to him.

 Harry smoothed his lips over hers in a gentle press, fitting his bottom lip between her two as he nudged the tip of her nose with his own. The soft sounds of their lips separating sounded in the quiet bathroom as the gentle peck turned into more with the way he tipped his head just right to split her lips open. As firm as she wanted to be in that moment, (Y/N) didn't do anything but surrender to his kiss, only keeping her hands to herself with the knowledge there was colored clay painting her fingers. 

It wasn't until she drew away to catch her breath, having to catch Harry before he trailed down her neck with the mess of the face mask following, that she could feel the cold clay on her mouth. Fluttering her eyes open, she was greeted with the sight of Harry's acutely applied mask now ruined with stray streaks of pink and blue running to the corners of his mouth, green that she knew had been on her nose now dotting his bridge. 

"Oh my god," she laughed, bringing her hand up to hover over her mouth as a laugh escaped.

The craters of his dimples could be seen through his mask, a matching laugh falling from his lips as he figured what she was giggling over. "I look like you right now, don't I?" 

"Probably," she breathed out on another peal of laugher, noting the way they somehow had managed to trail the clay down his neck. Maybe she hadn't been as careful with her hands as she had thought. 

Giving a nonchalant shrug, Harry drew her back down to him with his hand still fit behind her neck. "I don't care," he told her, drawing her in for another kiss that had (Y/N) immediately captivated. 

Though she hadn't caught a glimpse, she was sure her face was a mess, the process of getting the clay off now more complicated with the layers. But, as Harry said, she didn't really care. 

Tonight had been a really good night, and this was more than worth it. 

—————

thank you s much to everyone who sent in ideas and concepts when I needed them!! I tried to fit in as much as I could while still having everything make sense so I hope you enjoy!! thank you for reading and to everyone who requested, sorry for mistakes and if you have any ideas and requests of your own please send them in!

[lumiambrose]

yoichi x reader, fluff, baking together :>

yoichi loves to cook with you. he's not a master chef, but he enjoys the process of making meals together, laughing over failed attempts and celebrating your successes. it's not just about the food, but the fun and bonding that comes with it. he especially loves baking desserts, decorating them together, and sharing the sweet treats while watching a movie.

the kitchen is filled with the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods, a delightful contrast to the flour and bits of dough scattered across the countertops. you and yoichi are in the middle of one of your impromptu cooking sessions, the kind that starts with a simple craving and evolves into a delightful, chaotic, mess.

yoichi, with his sleeves rolled up with flour sprinkled across his cheeks, is whisking together a mixture for frosting. He glances up, catching your amused expression, and grins. "hey, no laughing at the chef," he teases, flicking a bit of frosting in your direction.

you laugh, dodging the missile of frosting and grabbing a spoon for yourself to retaliate with a dollop of whipped cream. "oh, it's on!" you declare, and soon, the kitchen turns into a playful battleground, filled of your laughter.

eventually, the giggles subside, and you both return to decorating the cupcakes. yoichi hands you a piping bag filled with frosting, his eyes twinkling. "your turn," he says, watching as you carefully pipe delicate swirls onto the cupcakes.

with the cupcakes finally decorated, you step back to admire your handiwork. they’re not professional, but they’re beautiful in their own way, each one a memory of the precious moment shared.

"movie time?" yoichi suggests, already reaching for the tray of cupcakes. you nod eagerly, and together, you carry the treats to the living room.

settling onto the couch with the cupcakes within easy reach, you snuggle under a warm blanket. yoichi picks a light-hearted movie, something perfect for the mood, and presses play. as the movie begins, you each take a cupcake, savoring the sweet, fluffy texture. yoichi’s arm drapes over your shoulders, pulling you close, letting you lean into him, feeling the warmth and contentment radiating from his body.

throughout the movie, you share bites of the cupcakes, laughing and exchanging playful commentary. the room is filled with a cozy, comforting atmosphere, the simple joy of being together.

as the movie draws to a close and the last cupcake is finished, yoichi turns to you, his expression soft and affectionate. "i love these moments with you," he says quietly, his voice sincere.

you smile, your heart swelling with love. "me too," you reply, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

in the peaceful silence that follows, you cuddle closer, grateful for the love you two share. its in these peaceful moments, where you feel at most content and overjoyed. getting to cherish your life with each other, making every day special.

an: tbh im not a big fan of the ending but i was loosing my sanity. hope this wasn't too cringey