#hes so silly and sweet i love him so so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

airybcby · 19 hours ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° and he keeps a picture of you

( bllk boys x gn! reader )

♡ a/n — been MIA for so long i wanted to write something small ans cute :)

♡ word count — 1k

♡ content — yukimiya kenyu x gn! reader, sae itoshi x gn! reader, alexis ness x gn! reader, rin itoshi x gn! reader, all characters are 18+, just cutieness , engagement (yukimiya), childhood lovers (sae), nickname 'love' used (ness),

♡ synopsis — some bllk boys (yukimiya, sae, ness, rin) and what their phone lock screen is :)

⊹｡° yukimiya kenyu

out of all the boys, yukimiya kenyu is the one most likely to have the cutest picture of the two of you as his background.

everyone gets sick of him bragging about your relationship, just how perfect you are, how sickly sweet you are to him.

yukimiya changes his lock screen every week, and of course he has to show them off to his team.

most of the time, it's a picture of you two holding hands- or you two in matching outfits that yuki had chosen himself.

everyone on his team had gotten tired of him showing off his perfect life and amazing relationship.

while, if you held down long enough, yukimiya's options for a lock screen weren't limited.

one was of you sitting across from him at dinner- a win glass in front of you as you gave him a smile. 'because you look like a dream in this' he'd told you when you asked why that one was his new lock screen of the week.

another of you asleep on his shoulder, a clear patch of drool showing in the picture. 'i wanna wake up to this every morning' he'd justified.

and this weeks lock screen, hm? well, it's his personal favorite.

a photo of you jumping on yukimiya while the two of you are dressed in another set of matching outfits. to anyone else, this may just look like his average screen saver.

but to him, and anyone who looks hard enough, the shiny new ring on your left hand ring finger is a clear sign; yukimiya finally asked you to marry him.

this one wouldn't be changed for a while.

not until he saw you in your wedding outfit.

⊹｡° sae itoshi

everyone of his nosey fans always wonders...what is sae itoshi's lock screen? flashes of it had been shown at press interviews, but no one could figure out what it was.

for a week on social media, fangirls (and guys) were stopping interviews for the tiniest glimpse at his phone. eventually, after coming to the assumption that he was a bland man who simply left it on the default lock screen, the internet calmed down.

and was sae a calm man who usually didn't change things that were fine as is? yes.

but what no one knew, what no one would ever find out, is that sae itoshi had a secret life- one secret from the press and internet- only for him to have and hold.

you.

you had been his girlfriend since he was 14, yet he refused to let the world and its nosiness ruin a perfect thing.

he was careless during the singular press interview, his phone in view- he was just lucky that the quality wasn't the best because then everyone in the world would know; sae itoshi was utterly whipped.

his lock screen, you ask? it's the only one he has set- and he'll never change it.

it's a simple picture of you on the balcony of your shared home, the sunset illuminating you perfectly as you looked over your shoulder at him with the most stunning smile on your face.

sae itoshi wouldn't let the world ruin that smile.

ever.

⊹｡° alexis ness

for the first year you were dating ness, his lock screen was a picture of him and kaiser in their uniforms- their last names stretched across their backs.

was this insane to you? yes. but you knew how much kaiser had changed ness' passion and love for soccer, and that's all you could be grateful for.

so when you grabbed ness' phone one morning to change the playlist while the two of you made breakfast and saw that he changed the background? you almost cried.

was it silly to be so emotional over? sure. but you knew how much kaiser meant to ness- he possibly loved him more than you (joking) (no i'm not)

the picture was so cute and innocent- the lock screen now a picture of you in a magicians get-up with cards in your hand.

you'd done it for ness' birthday, for his love of magic- you'd learned to do a few card tricks and he laughed at you as you tried ( and failed ) to shuffle- the cards flying everywhere.

when he realized the music hadn't changed , ness looked back at you - his pink apron wrapped around him, "everything okay, love?"

yeah.

everything was perfect.

⊹｡° rin itoshi

refused to change his lock screen when you started dating.

he was perfectly fine with the default one, why should be have to change his phone set-up just to prove his love?

in his mind, that was silly.

he loved you more than (almost) anything, except soccer.

let's be serious soccer was a very close second when it came to you, but rin would never admit that- his dream of becoming the best striker and his ego too high to say that.

he didn't understand why people needed their significant other on their lock screen. they'd see them everyday, was one picture really that important?

he thought that until he walked into your shared bedroom one day after a long day and a hard fought win against Manshine City.

all he wanted to do was take a shower, eat dinner, and lay down with you.

then he saw you, curled up on the bed wearing his jersey.

he told you not to wait up for him. you couldn't attend the game in person due to work, but he didn't mind. you were with him always.

but seeing you, fast asleep with his last name on your back- he finally understood.

he could look at this scene for hours.

he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and quickly snapped a picture before he slipped into bed next to you.

he suddenly didn't need a shower and he wasn't hungry.

he just wanted to be near you.

when you woke up the next morning while rin was on his morning run, you grabbed his phone to check the time

your sleeping face met your gaze, and a smile that probably looked so goofy spread across your face.

rin had never seen the point of changing his lock screen

until he saw you with his name on your figure.

suddenly he wanted to give you that last name for the two of you to share.

may make a part 2 , be on the look out :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

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lovebugism · 2 days ago

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eddie blurb about reader who is very preppy dressing up all punk/goth for one of eddies gigs at a bar to fit in with the crowd.

he likes it alottttt

ty for requesting :D — eddie plans to take his preppy!gf to the hideout for the first time (established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 0.8k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

“Do you like?” you wonder aloud, with your arms splayed at your sides and a smile brightening your face.

You watch wordlessly as Eddie’s wide brown eyes rake over your body — now intricately adorned with black and silver instead of your usual pastels. A flurry of butterflies bloom in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost shy, like he’s seeing you for the very first time.

Eddie opens his mouth but nothing comes out right away. Instead, he stutters, trying and failing to come up with a joke to conceal how flustered he’s gone. “Yeah. I—I like. I like very much, actually.”

His sneakers scuff the worn carpet of his bedroom floor as he takes a slow step toward you. He inhales the scent of your familiar, fruity perfume — a striking contrast to your darker appearance. You’ve teased your hair, smudged eyeliner beneath your eyes; you’ve even traded your delicate, flowery jewelry for chunkier silver ones.

He reaches out a ringed hand and brushes his fingers over your pleated leather skirt, nothing more than an excuse to touch you. His eyes catch a run in your fishnets, obviously borrowed and tucked into a pair of used boots. He has to force his gaze to meet yours.

“Where’d all this come from?” Eddie asks, peering at you with chocolate button eyes half-hidden behind long lashes.

“The mall,” you shrug. “…And also Robin’s closet.”

“That checks out,” he laughs and steps back again. “C’mon. Give me a spin. Let me look at you.”

You smile with your tongue between your teeth and twirl before him with glee. Your skirt fans out at your thighs, flashing the edge of your fishnets and a brief glance of your light pink panties. Eddie has to remind himself to breathe.

“What’d you do all this for?” he lilts.

“For you, dummy,” you giggle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I just— wanted to fit in with your friends, you know?”

The shy smile you give him makes his chest ache. “You’re sweet,” he hums. “But you didn’t have to do this, you know that, right?”

‘Cause I love you the way you are, he doesn’t say.

You think you hear it, anyway.

“I know,” you insist, dragging out the vowel like a sheepish child as you take a hesitant step toward him. “But I wanted to match my boyfriend. He’s a really famous rockstar, you know?”

Eddie tries not to melt at your feet when you close the distance between you. He wouldn’t say performing in front of his friends a handful of drunks makes him famous exactly, but he appreciates the spirit.

“I did hear that, actually,” he nods sarcastically.

“I even wrote his name on the hem,” you confess vaguely, smoothing your palms over his chest. “’Cause I love him and everything.”

Eddie tilts his chin to his chest, searching for his name on your skirt. “Really?” he wonders aloud, interest visibly piqued. Even more so, when you smile.

“Not there, silly,” you laugh.

His pink mouth forms a pretty ‘o’ shape when realization runs over him like melted honey. “Oh…” he hums, eyes wide and glimmering with intrigue. A funny feeling hits him in his chest and in the confines of his worn jeans. “Well, now I have to see it—”

You slap his hand away when he reaches for your skirt.

“No! You have to wait!” you insist, always so girlishly stubborn.

Eddie’s face scrunches like you’ve physically pained him. “Why?” he whines.

“Because you’ll make us late!” you argue, eyes narrowed with a faux-seriousness. “And I didn’t get all dressed up for nothin’, Eddie Munson.”

“I just want a quick peek. That’s all.”

“...Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” Eddie nods, eyes wide and sincere, fingers crossed at his side.

You lift the front of your skirt, giving him a proper view of your pretty panties. His eyes fall immediately to his name, written in a sloppy cursive with fading black ink, right beneath the dainty little bow at the center of your underwear.

Air rushes from his lungs like you’ve punched him in the chest. He goes dizzy with it, too. “Woah…” he mumbles, almost to himself, as his dark eyes glaze over.

“Do you like?” you repeat, more quietly this time, and with an air of subdued mischief.

You watch his tongue dart slowly across his pink lips. Like he’s more concentrated than he’s ever been in his life. Like you’re a piece of dessert standing before him that he can’t wait to dig his teeth into.

Eddie doesn’t answer you with words. He’s forgotten them all by now. Instead, he just sinks to his knees before you.

When he presses a chaste kiss to where you’ve stitched his name in your panties — then another, where you throb like a heartbeat for him — you realize you wouldn’t mind being late all that much. It was Eddie you got dressed up for, after all.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns two

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matchpointfaist · 3 days ago

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college best friend! art x reader °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

three days passed after the party, after the kiss, and art didn’t so much as text, call, or reach out in any way. you were hurt, confused, slightly anxious at the loss of contact, but more than anything, you missed him.

you missed his stupid jokes and the way he smiled like you were the funniest, most brilliant person in the room. the way his arms lingered when he hugged you goodnight, the way he rambled on and on about tennis and potential matches and probability for going pro next year. the way he’d sit patiently while you studied or read, even though you knew he was bursting at the seams to do anything but study. you missed your best friend, plain and simple, and you hoped that he missed you too.

his long awaited breach of silence finally came on the fourth day, early that morning, around the time you were sure he was getting ready for his morning job. it was simple, to the point, a text that quickened your heart rate unreasonably so; ‘can i come over later? miss you.’

‘of course you can.’ you replied in an instant, already making space on your bed for him to lounge, subconsciously making sure you looked okay, that your sleep deprivation and worry weren’t broadcasted too clearly on your face.

he was there thirty minutes later, a soft knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, jarring you and exciting you far more than it should’ve. “coming!” you called, straightening out your clothes before pulling the door open, fighting a sigh of relief at the sight of him.

four days was the longest you’d gone without seeing him since the two of you met, which seemed sort of pathetic to think of, but you’d grown accustomed to spending all your free time with him. “hi,” he smiled, less enthusiastic than usual, but a smile nonetheless, “can i come in?”

as if nothing happened, the two of you sat on your bed, and you tried not to let your eyes linger too long on his lips; your mind wandering to the way they’d felt on yours.

“i guess i should apologize,” he broke the silence that had settled over the room hesitantly, “i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking first. we were drunk, and i was an idiot, and i’m so sorry, and you can be mad at me but i miss you, and,”

you cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head, “shut up, art. don’t be sorry, okay? it was sweet, it was-“ your cheeks flushed, “it was good, i promise. i miss you too,” he blinked in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face, and it struck you then that you’d do anything to keep him this way. happy, awestruck, content.

“it was good?” he asked softly, like he was afraid if you repeated it you’d change your mind, “i could- i mean, we could kiss again, if you wanted, i just didn’t wanna assume, and i didn’t wanna overstep,”

this time, you cut him off with your lips over his, just as he’d done at the party. he tensed, ever so briefly, before melting into you, kissing you and smiling against your lips and tracing his fingers up your spine, pulling you into him and warming you so thoroughly you were certain you’d never felt anything like it.

you settled in his lap, curling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him until you were breathless, until you had to pause and rest your forehead against his, giggling slightly, giddy on affection.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he exhaled with a soft, breathy laugh, “you really have no idea, i- i’ve thought of you, like this, for so long,” “yeah?” you kissed him again, unable to hold yourself back, hoping you could show him that you felt the exact same way.

it was cliche, falling for your best friend. it was reckless and silly and so unbearably young of you, but you didn’t care. with art, it felt like you’d known him all your life. maybe even before that, in some alternate past life, maybe you’d been in love with him before your souls were even in these bodies, here in this dorm room. the statistical probability of meeting him, out of everyone in this world, was so slim, but you truly couldn’t fathom feeling this way for anyone else.

no one could come close to him, you were sure of it. he made you feel so alive and so at ease, so completely certain of yourself, so confident that this was the right thing to do. you’d never felt anything more right than kissing him, actually. it was like all the little pieces fell into place, and suddenly you knew exactly what to do, exactly where to place your hands, exactly how to move against him.

his hands made their way up the back of your shirt, tucked underneath the material, hot and smooth against your skin as you kissed him, and you were startled as a soft moan passed from your lips to his as his hand brushed a particularly tender spot on your shoulders, leaving chills on the delicate skin.

he smiled against you, pulling away to look at you from his seat underneath you, his eyes wide and admiring. “do you want me to stop?” he asked almost timidly, “we don’t have to do anything else,”

“wanna do this,” you said without a second thought, pausing to pull your shirt over your head, shivering slightly in your bralette. his cheeks reddened, and you felt him stiffen beneath you, hard between your thighs. “you’re so beautiful,” he exhaled, gently reaching out to trace over your ribs and chest, so featherlight and tender it almost brought tears to your eyes.

it was quicker after that, all of your clothes in a pile on your floor, pulled off between breathless kisses and murmurs of admiration from the both of you. art was all muscle under his shirt, his chest rippling with movement, and you were reminded of just how strong he really was as he picked you up, repositioning the two of you and laying between your thighs, kissing you from this new position with a power he didn’t have before.

“art,” you mumbled against his lips, pulling at his hair gently, “d’you want me on top?” his breath visibly faltered, and he looked you over, his eyes dark as he took in the sight of you laid out beneath him. “want you however you feel best,” he said quietly, pressing a warm kiss to your chest, and you sat up as you heard him laugh, felt the hot exhale of his breath against you.

“what?” you asked, suddenly self conscious, crossing your arms over your bare chest, and his eyes widened at the motion, like he was confused. “oh, no- i just, i can’t believe we’re doing this,” he smiled, gently pulling your arms down, kissing your cheek, “can’t believe i finally have you,”

he kept kissing you as he moved closer between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit with an unsteady hesitation, but he relaxed as you hummed in pleasure, your eyes falling closed. “feels good,” you murmured, tilting your head up to kiss his neck, arching into his touch, “god, art, that’s really good,”

only a few minutes and he had you practically writhing beneath him, whimpering and moaning and suddenly so embarrassingly desperate in a way that a man had never had you before. after he was sure that you were comfortable, that you were ready, he rested the palm of one hand on your cheek as he slid into you, his face all hazy with pleasure, a quiet groan leaving his swollen lips.

“oh my god,” he buried his face in your neck, resting his hand on your hip to hold you tight to him as he fucked you, and you were acutely aware of the way he shook like he was holding himself back.

you were a mess of breathless moans and messy kisses, your hands in his hair and his hands on every inch of your skin and taking pauses just to look at each other, to take in the beautiful simplicity of this; this, between you, this love that had been growing for months that you’d both been too shy or scared of just plain stupid to admit.

he made you come before he’d let himself finish, his mouth swallowing your moans as you trembled around him, digging your nails into his toned back as he fucked you through it, panting against your neck and praising you so softly you thought maybe he wasn’t even doing it for your benefit.

when he finished, your name spilled from his lips in a broken moan, and you wished you could capture it forever, play it on repeat whenever the mood struck. he was so doting after, cleaning you up gently, kissing you and taking breaks to laugh, to smile with the sort of giddiness you’d only seen on him after he won a match.

you fell asleep there, despite you both having classes that day, too caught up in the serenity of it all to leave your dorm room. when you woke up from your nap, art was still there, his expression peaceful as he lay curled up in your pink bedsheets, your stuffed bear under his arm. when he finally woke up, he laid in your lap as you read the study material for the class you both missed. later that night, he fucked you again, taking his time and kissing every inch of you, his movements so slow and careful that it warmed you all over. you knew you loved him far before that, but it finally came from your lips as you came undone for the second time, and when you both calmed down, he made you say it again just to make sure you meant it.

and oh god, you did.

#art x reader #challengers #art donaldson fic #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #artdonaldson #art donaldson smut #college best friend! art #stanford! art #stanford art donaldson #stanford art x reader #so high school

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faiszt · 1 day ago

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⠀⠀⭑⠀𝆬⠀⠀CLOSE ENOUGH:⠀✴⠀ r. cameron.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ minors do not interact.

PAIRING:⠀s2!rafe x stalker!reader.

†⠀⠀LISTEN TO:⠀close enough by ava morse.

wordcount: 3.7k⠀⠀|⠀⠀CONTAINS: ⠀ smut content. violent behavior. obsessive behavior. hard / strong language. drug mentions. kidnapping. face sitting. rough sex. slightly size kink. p in v. unprotected sex. dirty talk. face fucking & tits sucking.⠀ minors who interact with this will be blocked.

꒰ SILLY NOTES:⠀hi, sweets! i still don’t have a masterlist and stuff, i know, but i just really needed to write this. also, this is my first time writing a smut in my life, so... forgive me for any mistakes, i swear i'm trying and i’d be so happy if you could tell me what you think of it.⠀⠀⠀⠀(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 💬 ♡

there were two perfect words to describe you from what rafe thought: kind and sweet. so sweet, the kind that made him stop and think ‘what hole did you crawl out of?’ well, in a honest answer, the hole you crawled out of was hell. this isn't a silly little joke, it's reality, your sweetness was the perfect counterpart to the kind of obsessive and insane devil you've become since the day you laid eyes on him.

it took rafe longer to figure this out than you had anticipated before starting this freak game between you.

if he needed someone lovely, you'd be her. if he needed someone gentle, you'd be her. but, if he needs someone as crazy and fucked up as he is? his lucky day, you were all of that without even having to hide it with cute clothes and a damsel in distress demeanor.

150 days that you knew him, 150 photos of him kept in the last drawer of your dresser, right under your panties like a stupid plan not very calculated, but existing. a photo a day that you wisely chose every time you followed him around like an abandoned puppy, finding out things about him and his life was part of the shameless fun.

and each time he accidentally noticed you, you acted as he expected you to act. a confused expression and a gentle smile, pretending you were doing anything that a weirdo would, acting like it was purely fate putting you in the same place as him. what kind of shitty fate was this? god could only be punishing you for putting you in each other's lives.

but, no siege was impossible to close, and eventually, the pieces fell right into place in his mind. too late, he was the little mouse that bit the cheese in the mousetrap.

not that his insanity had reached its limit—you were never any different from that—it was just something you wanted to do and felt he needed, given how much stress you'd watched him go through lately. it wasn't wrong, was it? it was just love, no matter how strange, violent, and intense.

just a little help, you wouldn't hurt him... you'd just show that you can take care of him as well as anyone else since no one would take care of him if not you. plus, in the meantime, he could taste his own medicine with someone just like him, or worse.

“what the...” his eyes opened with difficulty, a throbbing pain in his head and his body limp, tingling, almost struggling to move. a dimly lit room, definitely not his room, unless he had been drugged enough to forget how he got there—which was what it looked like. “that’s all i needed now.” rafe thought he was talking to himself.

until he notices you there, sitting in front of your desk, swinging your feet with only one side of the earphone in your left ear, scribbling something. how cute, he thought, not thinking really much about it and when he did, well, he knew he was so fucked.

hands tied to the headboard, he wouldn't even question how you managed to drag him there, but there he was, gagged on a girl's bed. he could kick you if you came near, if it weren't for the clear fact that you both knew he wouldn't do it, first 'cause he wasn't afraid of you, second 'cause he wanted to know how far you'd go.

honestly, if you didn't go all the way, he'd make you go all the way with him since you were the one who brought him here, you had to do something about it now.

“are you plannin’ to make me die here or just playin’ some insane weirdo game, princess?” he shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position—even though nothing felt comfortable when his wrists were gagged. he was just trying to get your attention. was it strange that he was finding this too interesting and appealing to simply want to run away?

you turned in your chair, taking the earphone out as you left your pencil on the table. his eyebrows slowly rose when he noticed you was you, the acting was good, he had to admit, not every girl who was into him would simply gag him in her bed like he was her own doll. it was confusing, arousing, a lot of things his mind was trying to think about.

“you looked stressed, i just wanted to make you relax.” you mumbled with a sweet, albeit fake, smile, still swinging your feet in the air. so handsome, you thought, watching him with his disheveled hair and looking so vulnerable to you. “are you relaxed, rafe? or you need me to help you again?” 'cause there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't do for him at this point.

your smile only made him let out a nasal laugh, looking away for a brief moment as he stared at the ceiling. “nice way to relax someone, huh?” he scoffed. “but, since you’re offering... i think i’d be more relaxed if you let my wrists go from that rope.” he tried to suggest, blue eyes looking at you again with a disguised pleading, as if he could actually convince you like that.

“you look better this way.” you grumbled, standing up and walking over to sit on the edge of your bed, his knee lightly brushing against you for a moment. “but, if you wanna leave, i’m not really stopping you. just say the word and we both pretend it never happened.”

“but, i don’t wanna pretend it didn't happen... and i don’t wanna leave either.” he wouldn't say it out loud, but secretly he thought you were kinda wimp. what? you just do all of it and brought him here to... well, nothing? no, no, he knew you could do better than that. “i want you to do what you wanna do, or have you bitten off more than you can chew? don’t tell me you’re that stupid, princess.”

for a man gagged in your bed, he sounded very confident and intimidating in every word. he wanted you to do it so badly, whatever the fuck you had in mind, 'cause it was turning him on to see you do this to him. “come on, you know you didn’t gagged me in your bed to let me leave.”

and, as expected, what he said had exactly the effect he wanted. in less than a minute, your legs were on either side of his hips, straddling him as he looked up at you with a smug little smirk, not caring about the darkness in your eyes. you looked hot like that, he didn't really care about the implications of fucking you without using his hands.

“you talk too much, cameron.”

“then, you should shut my mouth.”

the implication of his words had almost immediate consequences. you bent over him, hands on both sides of his head, pinning him even further into the mattress as you pressed your lips hard against his. there wasn't one percent of delicacy in that messy kiss, just hunger and desire and rafe noticed it, feeling his blood rush to his lower half.

he moaned softly against your lips as he returned the not-so-loving affection, letting your tongue invade his mouth as if he was completely at your mercy—and he, actually, was. not that rafe had ever agreed to be on the bottom very often, but if it ended with you riding him, then it was for a good cause.

when you had the urge to separate your lips from his, it was like being woken up from a trance, he didn't say anything and if his wrists weren't gagged, his hands would be saying something for him. he ran his tongue over his reddened lips, slightly swollen from the inner contact, as if he wanted to know if the remnants of your taste were still there.

“y’know,” rafe started talking after a few seconds, noticing how breathless you looked from just one kiss. it was kinda cute, he'd give you credit for that. “if i wasn’t gagged here, you’d already be face down in that pillow.” he said with such conviction that you had to roll your eyes, thrusting your hips down only to see his facade tremble at the small contact over your clothes.

“yeah, yeah, but you’re gagged and i’m on top.” you gave him a mocking smile, gently patting his cheek before grabbing his chin, making him look straight into your eyes. “and that’s a lose-lose, for you, not for me.”

“lose-lose? i don’t see it that way, sweetheart,” his blue eyes dropped downwards, indirectly giving you the message that it wasn't bad for him when you were the one straddling him in your bed on any given day. “i’m just wonderin’ when you’re actually gonna act beyond these boring little kisses and put that pussy to sit on somethin’.”

“you’re talking too much again, cameron.” you shook your head in disapproval, sighing deeply as you pretended to think about what you were going to do to him. “but, since you want me to do something and i want you to shut up...”

you let the words hang in the air as you got off his lap, standing in the corner taking off your shorts and panties quickly, but to rafe it looked more like you were doing it in slow motion. every second counted and he was already missing your weight against his lap.

kinda ironic... that he was so comfortable being gagged in the bed of a girl he must have seen less than five times in his life. but, rafe never thought straight and he wouldn't start doing that now. it was even pleasurable for him to know that you were obsessed with him to that point. you might have been in physical control, but you both knew better than that.

despite the tension, you were on top of him again. knees on the mattress, your hands holding onto the headboard, the best way to shut him up and he wasn't really complaining about it, in fact, this was exactly what he wanted from the moment he thought of the possibility. a devious smile formed on his lips, his tongue moistening them for a brief moment as you graced him with that sight. shit, he wanted to touch you so badly, but he'd have to do it only with his tongue for now.

his tongue slowly passed through your wet folds like a tease of power, you might be on top, but he had his share of power too and he'd make sure to remind you of that. “you taste so good, princess...” he smirked against your cunt, giving it a brief suck before running his tongue over it again, only to see your expression falter and a shiver run through your body. “like a fuckin’ lollipop, so sweet.”

you placed more of your weight on his face, closing your eyes gently as you rubbed your clit against the tip of his nose, feeling his tongue suck hungrily between your wet folds. “mmhm...” you allowed yourself to let out a moan, looking down as your hips rocked over his face, his blue eyes fixed on you, attentively wanting to see you break under the touch of his tongue. he didn't want to miss a single detail of it.

rafe's pants were tightening around his crotch, his thoughts were hazy and he could only think of one thing: you and the dirty little noises that escaped your throat. he wanted to hear each of those and he wanted to be the reason for them. no one else, just him and he hoped you had used your weird obsessive behavior to understand that he was possessive as hell.

but, you were going far, he could feel it, pressing yourself harder and harder against his face and suddenly, the sound of the rope coming loose. your eyes opened in confusion, still numb from the brief pleasure he gave you, only for you to notice his hands loose from the rope, his wrists not even red. “what...? how?” you whispered, looking between his wrists and his face between your legs.

then, he pushed you back, not too hard, just enough to make you fall back onto the mattress and get off of him. “y’know... you’re bad at tying ropes, really bad,” he grumbled, sitting down on the bed before using one of his hands to pull you closer, climbing on top of you with an even more sinister smirk than before. “but, that’s good, it means i can touch that pretty little body of yours now.”

rafe didn't want to wait for you to have any reaction to that, he already waited for too long pretending to really be gagged in your bed, he didn't give a damn if he should've waited a little longer, he got what he wanted.

he pinned you against him and the mattress, crashing his lips against yours as he kissed you violently, as if he was trying to mark you or, maybe, he just really wanted to mark you. his tongue didn't ask for entry, it just invaded your mouth, making you feel your own taste, exactly as he wanted.

“did you like to taste your own sweetness, baby?” he whispered against your lips, sucking your bottom lip before kissing you again. “guess i have to take care of you now, don’t i? you’ve been following me around like a good puppy... i think you deserve a reward.” he pulled away from your face a little, only for his hands to go towards your shirt, pulling it over your head.

on a normal day, he'd take more of his time with you, but not today. today he was a little too eager for this, today you wouldn't go unnoticed by him.

“so sweet...” his fingers caressed your belly before he moved his lips down your neck, making sure to press wet kisses against it before moving down a little further and lightly biting your collarbone. you heard the sound of one of his hands going down to his pants, undoing his belt without any difficulty, as if he had done it many times before, and he did.

pants and boxers on the floor, he was hovering over you with an expression of hunger and desire, one of his fingers running over your cunt, he wanted to feel with his fingers how wet and ready for him you were. he patted your thigh, a warning for you to open it wider for him. you looked so pretty like that that he even felt like sucking you again. but, no, this time he wanted to make you feel everything.

rafe bent over you again, lips against yours, a cheap deception only for him to thrust his fully hard cock inside you. you opened your legs wider in shock, but you didn't push him away, you just moaned painfully against the sudden impact and he liked it, he really liked the way you lost your composure when he had no mercy on your tight little pussy.

no niceties or "just the tip", you were a weirdo who stalked him and he'd give you exactly what you wanted when you drugged him and took him to your bed. the kind of fuck that would leave you sore for days, and when you forgot about the pain, then he'd fuck you again... and again... and again.

he lifted your body a little, holding your legs as he slammed relentlessly inside your tight cunt, his cock was having trouble getting all the way inside you, but he didn't really care, he'd make it fit. “what happened to all that attitude, pretty girl? where did that "lose-lose" go?” he went deeper, making you sink into the mattress as you tried to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape your mouth.

“no, no holdin’ back your little noises, i wanna hear ‘em all.” he roared, his hand letting go of one of your legs as he held your chin firmly. “and eyes on me. if you close them or hold back your moans, i’ll stop and you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

you couldn't say a single word, you just nodded, agreeing with what he was saying, even though you didn't know how long you could keep your eyes open. “good girl.” he released your chin, his hand trailing down your neck and collarbone until he reached your bra.

just fucking you could be enough, but it wasn't, not for a greedy man like him. he wanted more and your tits looked so inviting to his eyes, he wanted everything he could get of you. everyone knew, if he wanted it, he could get it. so, he didn't ask, he just pulled one of your tits out of the bra. his fingers pinching your swollen nipple and circling it as he stared at you, wondering if this would make you go further over the edge or not.

him being too big for you was already something, but rafe knew perfectly where to push your buttons and he'd make you tremble without needing much, he wanted to break you so you'd know better before you thought you could leave him in a position like that. your legs locked around his waist, just so he could go balls deep, feeling you squeezing him tighter and tighter as your tight walls clenched in pleasure.

“mmgmh, rafe, fuck...” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip hard as you looked down to see his rhythm. thrusts so rough that the bed began to creak and he had no intention of being discreet about how good and hard he was fucking that sweet pussy of yours. “rafe... i need to... i need to come...”

a mocking laugh came out of him as he slowly thrust inside you again, really much slower than before, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. “yeah, princess? you wanna come that fast? this pretty little cunt can’t handle such a big cock, can it?” he continued with the slow thrusts, like a tease that he was really enjoying doing.

“but, it’s okay... i said i’d take care of you.” rafe whispered, leaning over you again, his tongue flicking over your nipple that he had been pinching moments before. “then, come for me, princess, come while i suck your tit.”

his thrusts gradually increased again, making you see stars as he sucked on your nipple hungrily, his eyes flicking up to see your expression of pleasure. your loud moans and whimpers were music to his ears, like fuel that only motivated him to go deeper.

and when you got to the edge, by god, you squeezed him so hard and moaned like you were in heaven; and he enjoyed every second of it, pressing himself against you as he felt your legs tremble for him. “you did so well for me...” he licked your nipple once more before moving kisses up to your neck. “but, we still have one thing before we finish... and you’re gonna be a good girl and do it.”

“what? what’s left?” you mumbled, tired and breathless, your legs still shaking as he grabbed your body and made you sit on the bed. not understanding what he meant when you noticed him standing up, right next to you.

“come here ’n open your mouth, i’ll show you.” it wasn't a request, it almost sounded like an order, if you didn't do it he’d make you do it anyway. “open wide.” he said again as you sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of him. one of his hands gripped the back of your head, while the other gripped his still hardened length, positioning it in front of your lips.

your eyes widened a little, but you looked up to meet rafe's gaze and he looked very confident about what he was doing. “no hands, i just need your little mouth, pretty girl.” he definitely wasn't expecting you to nod, he just shoved his cock into your mouth and waited for you to do what he wanted. “mmh, yeah, just like that...” he smirked, satisfied with your work, moving his hips back and forth, not caring if you could handle everything he put inside that sweet mouth.

he, in turn, didn't need much either, you had already given enough of a show for him to feel his balls full, he just needed a little more, your lips around his cock would solve the problem. “that got you so far, didn’t it? this stalker thing, you’re exactly where you wanna be, aren’t you? with my cock hitting your throat, so pretty.” he moaned, using his dirty words to motivate you to swallow him all the way down.

his moans started to become more frequent, he stopped moving his hips, using your head as if you were a doll, back and forth quickly, choking you, he was slowly reaching his limit and the sight really helped with that.

rafe knew he wouldn't last longer than that, he was exhausted, panting, letting out long gasps every time he sank the tip of his cock into your throat. he needed to come. so, he did it. “stay there... that’s it... stop.” he gasped once more, thrusting himself deep into the wet heat of your mouth, his length twitching as he began to spurt hot streams into the back of your throat. “fuck... fuck... mhmm.”

he didn't move his head, not until he was one hundred percent satisfied, not until you had swallowed every little drop of him.

and when it was over, you were a complete mess, falling back on your bed, dealing with the intense aftermath of what rafe gave you. he joined you at your side, as breathless as you were, not regretting a single microsecond of what had happened between you. “next time you wanna do this, remember to tie me tightly to the headboard, princess,” he suggested, lying on his back to face the ceiling like you. “just call me and i’ll bring the rope.”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox, you'll be welcome. ꒰ ˶> ˕ <˶ ꒱ ♡

©⠀𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐙𝐓, 2025.⠀don't use my work without my consent.

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darkbluekies · 17 hours ago

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Valentines dates with the ocs♡

warnings: none<3

A/N: i found some times on my breaks to write something small, I hope you'll like it! I hope you're going to have a sweet Valentines, I'm going to study with a course friend and then go fika with my best friend from high school ♡

Silas:

This man is is sucker for dates and would have them every night if he could. Valentines day is his favorite, though, because it gives him a reason to go all out. He'd book an expensive restaurant and let you pick whatever you want from the menu. His men would be guarding every corner of the building.

"Why there are no prices in your menu? Why do you want to know the prices? Are you paying? Who am I kidding, of course you aren't. Silly thing, aren't you cute? I'm taking you out on a date, not the other way around. Pick something."

Dr Kry:

Spending valentines in a hospital is bad enough, but not being able to spend it with anyone is even worse. Dr Kry would act like your boyfriend. He'd come into the room with roses and a box of expensive chocolates and a small gift of some sort that he'd know you would appreciate.

"It's just me, unfortunately, but I hope i can make your day good enough, despite the circumstances. These chocolates, I've been told, are quite the deal. They're exclusive ones from Belgium. Cost me a bit but if they're tasty that's all that matters. And I hope you'll like the sketchbook and the pens i got you, I know how boring it can be in here sometimes. Draw me something, why don't you?"

King Edmund:

This man does not kid around when it comes to valentines day. He will gift you pearls, jewels, clothes, flowers, pets. He will shower you in all his suffocating love and if you dare to show the slightest bit of overwhelm he'll throw a tantrum. A perfect date for him would be something away from people's eyes, maybe take a trip on the royal yacht.

"It's nice to be away for a while, isn't it? Away from everyone lusting over you. Here, I can have you all to myself. I can't imagine a more perfect valentine's day. Do you like how I've decorated? Every flower in the kingdom has been cut and put in here, all for you."

Jerry:

Unlike the others, she detests Valentine's day. She doesn't believe in showing love once a year through capitalistic marketing tactics. Why should a teddy bear with an 'i love you' heart matter more than a normal teddy bear any other day of the year? Instead, she'd make Valentine's day into "your day" where you could choose a date and Jerry is not allowed to complain. This year, you've chosen a museum.

"What? No, I'm not making faces. I'm not complaining, baby, I'm just not understanding why a blob on a canvas is more popular than actual pieces of art. But if you like them, I do too."

Hedwig:

Hedwig's almost as bad as Edmund. She'll spend a fortune on gifts for you and cling onto you all day. She'll want you to match and will treat the entire day as a date. You'll go to amusement parks, cafés, restaurants, shops and eventually ending the day at her home where the two of you will have a cosy home date.

"I'm so happy, i love you so much. Valentine's day is my favorite day, did you know that? I love when people express love. And I love expressing my love for you. I'm so glad I can spend my Valentine's with you, I wouldn't want to spend it any other way."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere doctor #yandere king #yandere female #yandere rich girl #yandere reactions

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amarynthian-chronicles · 2 days ago

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It is so adorable to see how these two feral yeti robots see an offering of a good meal as a sign of courtship and of asking for their hand, it was so cute when Y/N was shocked to see that they basically awakened the beasts literally and figuratively! I love how sweet and caring Moon is, with definite undertones of being a hunter and capable of being as lethal as Sun. And Sunny is so sweetly unhinged, and it was also nice to see how instantly possessive he gets when Y/N "courts" him, he definitely does not want to share his dear new mate. I loved the sillies so much

Love Bites

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 8💘💘

Okay okay okay, back on track now, please enjoy this little diaster i made based on @divinit3a's yeti boys, it was, quite fun >:3c

Prompt: umm letseee... valentines...Typically the Sun is not Out.... (for... Reasons... ahah.) but----loves to hunt, and hunt for the thrill/sport/game of it. And loves to eat & eat & would love a properly cooked meal. preference to high protein meals, very rich, very tasty, salty & fatty. so Im sure if u wanted to tackle him, in particular, could have fun with that..... (Slaps a giant fish on the table. Token of affection. Totally Wont Eat You ) The Moon.......... is a lot quieter and subdued, but actually a far better caretaker. takes care of hurt animals; would probably take care of a hurt human, too. mmm hot cocoa. much pickier eater, he doesnt like much, and he doesnt like to eat meat.... I think overall, a 'meal together' would be the best valentines fhgjsdfghjsdf WITH THESE FREAKS IN PARTICULAR...

Word Count: 2907

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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The hall is quiet as you step out from your room. You strain to listen for any sign of life, nothing. Must be out. Good. That gives you more time.

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the shadowed hallway, not nearly as bright as your windowed room. Though, you weren't opposed to keeping the lights off. It saved energy for one—which meant warm floor beneath your feet as you pad through the facility—and two, it kept the not as friendly yeti from making an appearance. Which, yourself and Moon were both in agreement about at least.

When you'd first gotten here, so many months ago now, your first encounter with the yeti, robot, thing—you still haven't quite figured that one out—was less than, pleasant. Though, that may very well have been due to the state he first saw you in. Which was bloodied, bruised, and vulnerable. And as Moon would later explain it to you, that had triggered something in counterpart. Something more instinct than logical.

Luckily for you, a ragged chase into a darkened cavern had saved you from suffering any further injury, or worse.

Instead, you got Moon, and he was thankfully much calmer than the other bot. He also wasn't trying to kill you, so you took what you could get. He patched you up, gave you a place to stay, a nice warm bed out of the cold, and plenty of things to do while you recovered.

When you'd first ventured out into the snow, having heard the rumors of the 'ice devil' you'd be facing, this hadn't been what you'd expected.

Delivish upon first glance, sure. Those tusks didn't help anything, that's for certain. Not to mention Sun as a whole, the manic energy he radiated, the wild look in his eyes, the raw strength as he'd pinned you down to "Try a bite"—

But still, with Moon at the very least, the rumors didn't match up.

He was quiet, even a bit stern in certain cases, but polite. He took his directives very seriously, but beyond that, he held a compassion you wouldn't ever have expected of a machine. Though, maybe it was because he was a bit more than that, they both were.

Regardless, you owed him for not abandoning you out there in the frozen tundra to die. Much less putting in the effort he had to care for you.

As you traverse the hall now, there's only the slightest pain still left in your ankle as you shuffle. You'd left the crutches behind today, as you had been the past several mornings, despite the lunar-themed yeti's insistence for otherwise.

That was another thing, the care. For a so-called devil, he had the attitude of a saint. Or well, you didn't know any saints, so a good friend then. A very good friend, at that.

You found yourself in long conversations that would last hours, either listening to that quiet tone regale you with stories of all his travels, or sharing some of your own experiences prior to meeting them. You enjoyed the walks you'd take together through the caverns, or going with him out into the arctic—on the rare trips he would allow you with your injury—to scout for poachers and the likes.

And those rare moments you could get him to laugh at one of your jokes, it lit something inside you that you couldn't describe. Something that albeit would be a bit more frightening than it already was if not for your situation.

You think the combination of getting your foot caught in a bear trap, freed and then chased by a rabid yeti-bot, and then saved by the other side of that same yeti-bot, allowed you some freedom when it came to your feelings.

But that wasn't the point to what you were doing. Rather, you wanted to show your appreciation for Moon, not your feelings. Nevermind the fact that today did just so happen to be Valentine's, having found out by checking the date on your half-dead phone.

Besides, You didn't even know if it was even possible for him to return such affections. Truthfully, you preferred not knowing if it meant you could keep this peace you've had for so long now. You were almost afraid for when you fully healed.

Afraid that the moment you could leave, you'd be kicked out, back into the cold to survive to find your own way back to society. That the past few months were nothing but a ruse, set up by Moon and in fact once you were at a good range, your back turned and unaware, Sun would bear down on you and—

You shake your head, no. Despite your initial encounter, Sun had been fine. He wasn't allowed out much, so you didn't speak much, though you also think he would prefer not to. It didn't necessarily have to do with you in particular, you don't think.

Whereas Moon was more oriented to stay on task, Sun had his own personal drive to fulfill. You'd yet to figure out exactly what that was yet, however. Besides the desire to hunt and kill just for the thrill of it. Whatever it was, with your injury, you simply didn't fit into it. You had no use—for now—so he left you to your own devices.

For now.

You flip on the light to the kitchen area as you enter, dimmed lighting now illuminating the space.

You'd been surprised to find there was indeed working cooking equipment in the research station. Not originally all in the same space, but with a bit of help, you'd dragged everything functional into one space.

When it came to ingredients, you didn't have much to work with besides what either yeti brought to you. There was some very old canned food you'd found, and several containers of unopened spices, but beyond that it was slim pickings. The crate of hot coco you'd found had been a godsend. Considering the situation though, you weren't going to complain.

The idea of making a meal had come from the simple fact of the matter that beyond hunting and protecting, Moon nor Sun did much else. So, providing nourishment would have to be your way to pay back their hospitality. Or at least, Moon's hospitality. If Sun enjoyed something you made, you'd consider that in and of itself a victory.

So, you set to work immediately. Opening the fridge, you pulled out one of the the few items in there, a massive bluefin tuna, which took up the majority of the space. You struggle to take it out, much less carry it with wobbling limbs over to the island. When you put it on the counter, you almost swear you hear it creak under the weight.

You step back and let out a breath, admiring the giant fish for a moment. While the two really only ate for fuel—a fish like this would just simply be devoured as is from what you'd seen—you knew they could taste, and that when presented with chances to try something that was flavored in some regard, they did seem to enjoy it. Especially Sun, having taken one bite of your beef jerky and snatching the rest away for himself when you'd not been paying attention.

Though you only had the one fish and just a few other ingredients to work with, you had several ideas in mind for how to properly utilize it. Taking the large butcher knife, you cleaned, gutted, and scaled it, and divided it up into proper pieces.

The loin you'd make steaks out of, pan searing and basting in fats, utilizing the bit of pepper and spices you had available. You set aside three to cook and stored the rest in the freezer.

The back you would smoke, creating some jerky from the pieces there. Thankfully, Moon kept firewood around in case the power failed entirely, and you doubted he would notice a few pieces going missing. You'd utilized one of the broken freezers for your smokehouse.

The belly would be raw, sliced thin and served with a bit of the salty roe that you'd discovered inside the fish initially.

As for the remaining bits of the fish, you'd stew the bones for a broth and fry the collar and cheeks as one final touch to finish off the meal.

It was a lot, all things considered, and for them it may very well be next to nothing in comparison to their appetites, especially Sun's. But, that wasn't going to deter you from trying your best to make something from your heart. So, you got to work.

You had no idea when Moon would return, so you tried your best to work both quickly and effectively. Thankfully, since several items were basic prep, they took very little time to come together. You enjoyed it, the process overall. After all the time being spent on you, being able to give back felt gratifying in its own way, exciting even. Again, ignoring your own feelings about the yeti.

At some point, you even find a small radio, the batteries still good to your delight. Despite your location, you can just barely catch a signal as sappy love songs play from some far away station. You hum and dance and sing to the music as you cook, the time passing by like nothing to you in your focused state. You even are able to make yourself some hot coco, sipping on it throughout the cooking process.

You're so focused, even, that you don't notice the towering presence hovering around the other side of the counter until you turn directly to face it. You were just setting down the last bit of the meal, ready to sit and wait for Moon's return, so color you shocked when you find yourself face to chest with Sun instead.

His head cocked to the side as he looks down at you, expression unreadable as he examines you with that calculated stare.

"You've been busy." He states.

You come out of your daze, shaking your head. "I-yeah. I have."

"Tore up the meat. A pity. I was going to enjoy that." He picks at one of his claws, you see a hint of red stained there before he glances back up to you, grin wide. "Though, it's not nearly as good as when it's fresh, anyhow."

You both know that fresh isn't quite what he's implying.

You swallow, while you'd been expecting Moon—and would have preferred him, especially in this case—this was technically a gift for the day-themed yeti too.

Deciding you weren't going to let your lingering fear overtake you, you straighten up, and steady your voice. "This is all for you, actually. And Moon, of course. I, wanted to extend my thanks for, allowing me to stay these past few months." This again was technically all for Moon, but you couldn't exactly say that with Sun standing right in front of you.

"I—Me?" He questions, eyes widening and grin falling.

You nod. "Yeah, I um, figured that something made with a bit more care might be something you guys liked. I noticed you never really get the chance to... add more flavor to things, and you seemed to like my snacks in the past so, i just—" You stop when you find that he's eye to eye with you now, baring down on you with a serious expression you weren't anticipating.

"You made us, me, a meal?" The way the words are half-snarled mere inches from your face makes you flinch.

"Y-yes?"

Sun stares at you for a bit longer, and if you weren't so alarmed you'd move away. But you don't.

After a few moments more, he huffs, then starts to chuckle, standing straight again. "Aren't you just so interesting, Little Star?"

You feel confusion knit your brows only for them to shoot up in shock as Sun's hand suddenly grasps your chin, leaning in again.

His other hand snatches one of the pieces of raw fish from the table, eating it in one bite. "Such an offering from you is, surprising but, despite your, obvious misconceptions about our relationship, I suppose I can consider it." He tilts your head this was and that. "You're not the worst option I've ever been presented with."

"I, huh?"

He let's you go again, grabbing one of the steaks with his bare hands. His teeth tear through it like it's nothing. You can only watch as you try to understand what he's saying, not entirely comprehending it.

When he's finished, he wipes his mouth, snickering to himself. "I certainly can't wait to see what he thinks of your proposition. I'm sure it will be entertaining to say the least."

Before you can respond, he walks over to the light switch, dimming the lights as low as possible, thus allowing for Moon to take his place.

As the switch occurs, Sun makes one final remark, and it all finally clicks to you. "Something you should keep in mind though if I do accept, Sunshine, is that I don't share."

With that, you're left with an embarrassing realization, and Moon.

You can't make eye contact with him, instead turning around and starting to busy yourself with cleaning up to distract from the burning feeling spread across your cheeks.

You can't believe you didn't put together that something like this would mean something like that to them. But it's not like you would have known either! How were you supposed to understand the cultural differences between humans and yeti-robots that lived in abandoned research centers? This feels like something that was on them and not you to be honest.

Your half-delusioned reasonings do nothing to stop the racing in your heart as you clean, and you just hope to finish up quickly, grab a snack for yourself, and get out of there to keep yourself from any further embarrassment.

"It's very good, Starlight."

You pause for a moment, then hum. "Y-yeah?"

"Yes. The amount of flavor you've packed into each dish is... incredible." Moon says, sounding genuinely a bit in awe.

It only worsens your state, mumbling back a quiet response. "I'm, I'm glad you like it."

Quiet between the two of you. The radio still plays softly throughout the space, only disrupted by the sound of clinking as you clean things up, or Moon's utensils scraping against each other.

"So what Sun said—" "You should eat too—"

You both stop, and looking back to him, you laugh softly.

You nod. "You first."

"Join me." He pats a seat next to him. "It's only fair after the effort you've put in."

"Oh! Okay."

You try not to make a fool of yourself as you make your way over and sit down. You can only protest as Moon piles you a plate full of food, depositing it in front of you once he's finished.

He hands you a fork, chuckling at the scowl on your features. "You need your energy too, if you want to stand any chance at getting better."

"You're not wrong." You sigh, taking a bite of the smoked fish. As you'd hoped, it's delicious, and you appreciate your own efforts to make such good food in that moment.

"So,"—Moon reaches for a bit of the fried collar—"You were saying?"

You almost choke on the bite you just swallowed. You regain your composure to answer. "I, um, Sun mentioned, that um, something like this was very, very, important to you guys in a specific way. Which, honestly I didn't know and I'm so sorry if I've offended you I just wanted to do something nice—"

You're interrupted by a kiss pressed to your forehead.

"I would say offended is nowhere close to the feelings you've elicited. Honestly." The night-themed yeti states, amusement between the words. "Rather, I find myself rather interested in your proposal, intentional or not."

Your eyes widen ever further. "Pr-proposal?"

"If I'm misreading, then I am sorry, Star. But I—"

"No!" You shake your head, trying again. "No, you're not um, misreading. But again this wasn't my intent at all. I'm definitely all for it. I mean, to a point you know, sorry this isn't something I ever expected to happen but I really do like you, a lot and—"

Instead of a kiss, a piece of tuna is pressed into your mouth, and with how good it is you can't say for sure that you'd prefer the kiss or not. As you chew, a slight scowl on your features, Moon laughs. It makes your heart flutter for a moment.

"I really like you too. I wasn't sure that you'd feel the same, so I didn't act on those feelings. But, since you've shown that you clearly feel something,"—He snickers as you shoot him another glare—"For me, I'm more than happy to make it clear to you now."

"Gee, thanks."

Another kiss is pressed to your hair, arm wrapping around you and you welcome it, snuggling into the warm fur next to you. You grab a piece of tuna, munching on it to hide your fluster in that moment.

"And since he's already said it, I will too." Moon's voice is right next to your ear in that moment, low but lethal.

"I don't share either."

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank you for the request @divinit3a!! I had lots and lots of fun with the yetis and i can't wait to see what else you do with them yourself, i may perhaps do a bit more when I find the time hehehehe

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

#sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #sundrop #moondrop #five nights at freddy's #the daycare attendant #daycare attendant x reader #daycare attendant #celestial courtship

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suiana · 1 day ago

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hi hi hii!! I saw your requests are open so may I pleade request for more yandere classmate oneshots/fics/headcanons anything that is a yandere classmate content cause I really love your writing and those yandere classmates hcs/oneshots you wrote♡♡!! if you need me to be more specific here's a suggestion/scenario:3...(that's a bit too specific if you don't mind hehe)

Yandere classmate transfer to reader's school and class. Yandere meets reader and boomshakalala typical yandere scenario where he falls inlove with reader. Yandere finds out that reader is getting backstabbed and bullied by their classmates. Reader is an extrovert and silly but like can't do anything about the bullying so they just ignore their classmates comment. Reader can be gender neutral or fem, whatever feels more comfty for u to write:>>! yan is a male!

Also, if you're in a writer's block, u don't have to force yourself! Also jst ignore this if u don't feel comfty writing this. Take of yourself and sorry if this is a bit too specific or demanding !

xoxo - Anon

hey anon! you just pulled me out of my writers drought so please have this for valentines

Yandere! classmate who's the new kid and is trying to fit in. Right, the average new kid experience. You're not popular, not a loner, just somewhere in between and trying to get by with all the horrors school can throw at you. No one has enough time to bother with others when they have to focus on themselves.

But there is.

You know how there are some people who peaked in highschool that take out their sadness on others? Yeah, that's right. Those people. And he just so happened to walk into one of these sessions.

Some grown ass man pouring milk over- oh, it's you.

Yeah just like how there's the losers who peaked in highschool, there are the popular kids who remain popular throughout their life. Aka you. And he's fallen for you hard.

It all began one fateful day... When he bumped into you while running on 2 hours of sleep and simply passed out because of the force at which he walked right at you. That's right. He fainted from walking into you.

Anyway, when he woke up, he found out that you had dragged him to the nurse's office and had stayed right by his side until he woke up.

How fucking cute.

He was definitely attracted to you. That was for sure, he still could feel it even when he was still woozy. I mean, you were his type from head to toe! Physically at least.

But now you're telling him you stayed by his side and waited patiently by his side until he woke up? You've got him hooked. So he gave you his number, got you to be his friend, and everything else fell in place.

He started noticing you around campus, talking to everyone and socializing like a freaking butterfly. Figures. You were clearly an extrovert and loved being just an absolute sweetheart. Sweet and kind to everyone around you. He would give you the world if you asked for it.

Then, he started noticing the bullying. The whispers, backhanded compliments... Just everything about it enraged him. It's bad enough that people are being mean, it's even worse that they're called your friends. How could they do such a thing to you? You were a blessing to be around! These people should be grateful that you even wanted to befriend them! Hell, they should be grovelling and begging on their knees for even as much as thinking wrong of you!

The worst part of it all?

You don't retaliate. Or rather, you can't. These "friends" of yours are all kids of rich and powerful people. And you? You're just poor old you, unable to talk back in fear of them ruining your reputation and maybe even worse. They could have you removed from the school, falsely accused of a crime... They're scum of the earth and they know it.

He hates them.

That's why he's taken it upon himself to get rid of them! No problem if he isn't as powerful or rich as these... "friends" of yours... Who can fight back when they're dead after all? The dead don't speak, they can't. They're the best type of sinners, people who've dared to lay their filthy hands and words on your beautiful soul.

Of course... He doesn't let you know that. You're too kind for this world. You'd freak out and have a panic attack if he told such a thing to you! You wouldn't understand. He wouldn't want to scare you anyway. You think of him as just another tired student that's your really nice friend. So he's kept all this hidden away.

But right now? When he's faced with this? Milk? On you? While you're just... Forced to take it all?

How can he not act out?

"You think this is funny?"

His hands are on that losers neck in a second, depriving him of any oxygen possible. Damn you, damn you, damn you. This waste of space should just die now. He was even laughing when he was pouring the fucking milk over your head? Unacceptable.

Simply unacceptable.

"You're a fucking loser."

"You smell like piss and shit, did you piss yourself?"

"Not so much of a big guy now, huh?"

This guy's body is larger than him, muscle and veiny all over. Yet... His body was slowly losing... to him? An average joe?

Then he hears it. Your voice.

He gets pulled out of his rage by your voice. Oh... Your sweet, sweet voice. It's like an angel's touch, the warmth of spring after a cold winter. Usually it would be comforting to him, make his heart soar and face warm. Right now though? it's sending nothing but dread through him. Shit, he's exposed himself.

"Uh... Fuck, I didn't mean to-"

He's stammering, bumbling on his words like a fool. No, god no, he's messed up now. You'll surely hate him and think he's a violent creep. You'll never want to talk to him again and-

-You reached out to him and mutter a thanks? For standing up for you? With that smile and gentle hands? What was that? Did you just ask him to release the guy and go on a walk? Was that a date? He hopes it's a date. Ah, it's on valentine's too. Do you like him? Is this a sign? He's not overthinking it right?

...

Ah.

He's so cooked.

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere classmates #yandere classmates x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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levis-poison-is-my-medicine · 1 day ago

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Forget Me Not

A Reiner Braun x Reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

Reiner accidentally delivers flowers to the wrong person on Valentine's Day... and that person just so happens to be you.

tags: modern AU, flower delivery guy!Reiner, fluff and humor, silly and a bit thirsty, AruAni make an appearance (word count: 3.5k)

(Moodboard) / (AOT Fanfic Masterlist)

The doorbell rang while you were in the shower. You were just going to ignore it, but then it rang again. And again. Clearly, they weren’t gonna give up. You quickly rinsed out the shampoo and jumped out of the shower.

"Coming!" you yelled as you threw on a towel, then sprinted to the door.

You didn’t know what you’d expected. A postman, perhaps, who wanted you to accept a parcel for a neighbor. Maybe a salesperson of some kind. Definitely not this.

A solid wall of fragrant red. Red roses, hundreds of them, taking up the entire space of your doorframe. You stared at the sight, completely and utterly confused.

"Flower delivery!" said the wall of red in a deep, rich voice. Then it moved towards you, the sweet scent enveloping your befuddled senses. "What the—"

"I know, it’s quite big. Would you prefer me to put it somewhere for you?"

A head poked out from behind the roses, and you realized that there was, in fact, a person behind the humongous bouquet of roses thrust out toward you. Quite a good-looking one at that, with warm, golden-brown eyes that were currently fixed at you with a questioning look.

"Um," you said. "Sure. That would be great."

You stepped aside to make room, and watched in baffled silence as the man carried the rosy monstrosity inside, only then realizing the true scale of the thing. Which didn’t help one bit with your confusion.

"Is that table okay?" the man asked.

"What? Oh. Yeah. Just put it wherever."

"Got it," he said, setting the bouquet down with a low grunt. Without the bouquet covering him, you could see that he didn’t just have a handsome face, his frame was attractive too — broad-shouldered and tall. And here you were with your wet, unkempt hair, probably looking like a drowned rat in a towel. This was just your luck. Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned your rather unconventional outfit. You weren’t sure he’d even noticed it, as he hadn’t looked up once, still busy arranging the bouquet on the table.

"500 red roses," the man said with a grin. "That’s our most expensive order today. And it’s Valentine’s Day, so we get a lot. Someone must love you very much." He finally looked up at you then, his eyes dropping to your towel for a split second before flicking away again, suddenly very preoccupied with picking up the rose petals which had scattered on the table. Great. So much for making a good first impression. You shook your head, trying to cure yourself from the case of hot-guy-itis which had clearly befallen you and threatened to cloud your rational judgment.

Right. Time to look at the facts. It was Valentine’s Day. Hence the flowers. But it still didn’t explain where this abomination was coming from. Or rather, from whom.

"Does it say anywhere who sent it?" you asked.

The man straightened up from where he had crouched on the floor to pick up some more rose petals. He still avoided looking at you.

"I’m not sure. Think I saw a card in there somewhere. Probably says on there." The man scratched his head. "Maybe you have a secret admirer. Or something."

"Maybe," you said, voice filled with doubt.

His eyes darted to your face, and he cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something, but then didn’t, swallowing thickly instead. You could see his Adam‘s apple move in his throat, your eyes suddenly drawn to the neckline of his green uniform shirt. The first button was undone. You couldn’t stop staring. The hollow of his neck, the surrounding muscles working as he looked down to took out his phone…

"Oh. I almost forgot. Still need a signature for the delivery." Your gaze snapped back up at his words, and you could feel your face flush with heat, like you‘d just been caught doing something forbidden.

He took a step closer, then stopped, awkwardly extending the phone to you from a distance. You took it and quickly scribbled your signature with your finger. God, this was embarrassing.

"Thanks," he said, taking the phone back. When he looked back at the screen, his eyes widened.

"Shit, I’m late for the next delivery. I should go. Sorry about the mess." He sheepishly gestured at the rose petals still scattered on the apartment floor.

"Oh, that’s okay. I’ll clean it up later. After I finish my shower." You smiled, still embarrassed.

"Yeah. Have fun," he muttered, his voice a little hoarse, before practically bolting out of the apartment.

You blew out a breath you hadn’t realized you'd been holding.

"What the hell," you murmured, pressing a hand to your heart. It was beating fast against your fingertips, skipping like a broken record. What were you, a teenager? It had been a while since you’d had such a strong, visceral reaction to a guy. And, of course, the one time you did, you were half naked, and he was delivering you flowers from another guy. Great, just great. And you still had no idea who they could be from.

"Please, anyone but Floch," you mumbled, shuddering at the thought of your pushy coworker.

He’d asked you out as many times as you’d turned him down, but for some reason, he still didn’t get the message, forcing you to repeat it time and time again — a Sisyphean task with no end in sight.

You made your way over to the bouquet to check for the card, finding it hidden at the bottom of the arrangement, tied to the binding paper with a silky red ribbon.

It was made from thick, marbled paper, and the front simply read: you are my sun — beautiful and bright. I revolve around you.

You snorted. So corny. But as you flipped it over to read the rest, your grin faded, giving way to a frown.

Dear Annie, Please accept this bouquet as a symbol of my love for you — 512 roses, one for each wonderful day we’ve been together. Each petal represents a moment of joy, love and tenderness you’ve brought into my life. Someday, I hope, these precious moments will add up to be so many, these days with you become so countless that it’ll be impossible to represent them with roses or gestures or anything else. Even words might not be enough then. But I’ll never stop trying. Forever yours (if you’ll have me), Armin

This bouquet wasn’t for you at all.

You stared in horror at the moments of joy, love and tenderness scattered all over your floor, when it should have been Annie’s. Whoever this Annie was, she likely wouldn’t be happy to know that this heartfelt message had been passed on to somebody else. And Armin, well… You could just tell that he would be completely and utterly devastated by this turn of events. Clearly, he had put a lot of thought into this. And money. If you didn’t do something about this, his hopelessly enamored heart would probably break into tiny little pieces — 512 pieces to be exact, one for every rose paid for but not delivered.

You cursed under your breath, pulled your towel tight, and dashed out onto the street, frantically checking left and right for any signs of the flower delivery guy. But he was nowhere to be seen. No vans, either. You went so far as to check the parked cars at the side of the road, a final act of desperation. But to no avail. He was already gone.

"Shit," you muttered. An old lady walking her dog wrinkled her nose at you. She pulled at the poodle’s leash, making it clear that she deemed you bad company for the dog who had happily run up to you, oblivious to her judgment. You crouched down to pet him out of spite.

What now? As you got up and walked back to your apartment, you contemplated your options. You could call the flower shop and tell them it had been delivered to the wrong address. Only, that might get the cute delivery guy into a lot of trouble. After all, it was the most expensive order of the day, as he'd told you himself, though you didn't know exactly how much that amounted to.

A quick Google search make you gasp. 500 red roses – that was over 2000 bucks. He would lose his job, for sure.

But if you didn't call them, an inconsolable Armin certainly would. Either way, Cute Delivery Guy would be screwed. You couldn't let that happen. You'd just have to lie and make up some excuse.

As you dialed the number of Liberio flower shop, the name of which had been tastefully emblazoned on the card, your phone almost slipped out of your sweaty palms. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should stay out of this and leave this up to fate. It had nothing to do with you after all – so what if Armin's and Annie's Valentine's Day was about to be ruined, derailing Armin from his joyous orbit around his bright sun and potentially ending their 512 days of blissful unity. So what if Cute Delivery Guy lost his job, turning him simply into a Cute Guy. He might not be able to pay his bills anymore, but at least he wouldn't have to wear that awful green uniform shirt. (Though on him, it had looked awfully good. Illegally so.)

Who were you to go up against fate? But before you could get yourself into a philosophical debate about determinism and the existence of free will, a woman's voice spoke on the other side of the line.

"This is Liberio flower shop, Pieck Finger speaking. How can I help you?"

You froze, your mouth completely dry.

"Hello?" Pieck repeated.

"Hello. I'm, um... Annie. And I have a question. A bouquet of roses has just been delivered to me, and I was wondering…" You swallowed. "I was wondering whether there was a way of contacting the deliveryman?"

There was a pause on the other side of the line. "May I ask why you'd like to contact the delivery driver? Was there a problem with the order?"

"No!" you exclaimed, your voice high. You cleared your throat. "I mean… No. Everything was fine with the order. More than fine actually. It was perfect. It's just…" You tapped your chin, trying to think of an excuse. You should've thought this through beforehand.

There was a sigh on the other end. "If you're trying to get Reiner's number, I'll have to disappoint you. We don't divulge the personal information of our employ–"

"That's not what this is!" you interrupted, mortified. "It's just that he forgot something here. If you could get in touch with him, he could stop by and get it. While he's still in the area, you know? " You held your breath as you waited for an answer.

Another sigh. "Now that, I can believe. If his head weren't screwed on... Well. You get the idea. Was it his cap again?"

"His cap? Yes. The cap. He left it here." You weren't even sure he'd been wearing a cap at all, but you were grateful for the suggestion.

"A true classic. I always tell him to just keep it on, but he insists it's rude to wear hats inside." You could almost hear the eye-roll. "Anyway, I'll give him a call. He should be there soon to pick it up. I'm sorry for all the trouble."

"It's nothing. Thank you!"

You hung up quickly and tossed your phone onto the table, a huge grin spreading over your face. Fate had been fought successfully. Jobs would be kept and orbits would be maintained. You'd even found out Cute Delivery Guy's name. Reiner. Reiner, who was well-meaning but scatterbrained, forgetting caps and wrongly delivering orders. Reiner, who was probably the cutest flower delivery guy to have ever graced this earth. Giggling, you broke into a little victory dance. Your towel fell to the floor with a soft thud. Oops. Better finish that shower before he came back.

– –

When the doorbell rang this time, you were prepared. For one, you were actually sporting more than just a towel, having opted for a cute outfit that suited you well without seeming too dressed up. You'd also dried your hair and put on some light makeup, keeping it casual. No need for coming on too strong. After that rather dismal first impression, you were determined to at least make the second one good.

You got the door with a smile. And there he was – still cute, even in that grass-green uniform, the shirt hugging his chest in a way that brought out his toned form underneath. You forced your eyes upwards to his face again, where you were met by his golden-warm gaze.

"Hi," you greeted him, already feeling your heartbeat speed up.

"Hi," he said, a little hesitant. "The flower shop gave me a call. Said something about me forgetting something here?" He twisted something in his hands, something green. A cap.

"Yeah… about that." You rubbed your temple. "Sorry about the confusion. You didn't actually leave anything here. I just needed a pretense to get you back here."

"To get me back here?" Reiner raised an eyebrow at you.

You flushed a bit. Could have phrased that differently. "Um, yeah. I didn't want you to get into trouble but… you got the order wrong. That bouquet isn't for me."

His eyes widened. "Shit. Are you sure?"

"Yep. That card was by a certain Armin, thanking me for our 512 wonderful days days together. Think I would've noticed if I had a boyfriend, let alone for that long."

"Oh." Reiner huffed out a laugh. "Guess I got the address wrong. Let me check." He took out his phone, eyebrows drawn together in confusion as he looked at the screen.

"Shit. You're right. Mix-up with the numbers." He scrubbed a hand up through the back of his hair, shooting you a sheepish grin. "Man, I'm such an idiot. Thanks for covering for me, you really saved my ass here. And sorry for the trouble."

"It's fine. Besides, I couldn't let Armin's efforts be in vain. His beloved Annie deserves to witness this grand gesture of romantic sentiment while the roses are still red on this fine Valentine's Day." You gave him a wink.

His grin widened. "Quite the lovebirds, huh. I see you've already grown attached to them."

"Yeah. It's strange, but after reading Armin's heartfelt message to his sweetheart, I couldn't help but become invested. The flowers may be a bit over the top, but the sentiment behind it feels genuine. It was kind of adorable, actually." You smiled at the memory of the cheesy card.

"And I almost ruined it for them," he groaned. "Maybe I should start working as a reverse Cupid. Reiner Braun – destroyer of love and happiness."

You stifled a laugh. "I wouldn't go quite so far. You're here, aren't you? Just in time to save the day."

Reiner nodded. "Yeah, and I should probably get to it. Better late than never, right?" He took a step forward, then hesitated.

You motioned for him to enter. "Come in. I'm y/n, by the way."

"Thanks. I'm Reiner." He brushed past you through the narrow doorway, his arm touching yours for just a split second, but the warmth of it was enough to make your heart flutter. You really were down bad for him.

"I know," you said, trying to shrug off the butterflies swishing around in your stomach. "Already heard of you. Reiner Braun – almost-destroyer of love and forgetter of caps. Quite the reputation you've got there."

He chuckled – a low, rumbly sound at the back of his throat. "You don't have to rub it in, you know."

You pursed your lips. "But it's so much fun."

"Glad to know at least someone's having fun today." But his eyes betrayed his words, shining with amusement.

He walked over to the table where the rosy display of affection was already waiting for him, the card neatly tucked away again at the bottom. You'd tried to move it back to the door earlier, but the thing had hardly budged at all.

Reiner, on the other hand, lifted it effortlessly, the biceps of his arms flexing noticeably underneath his shirt as he carried the massive bouquet towards the door. You swallowed, finding it hard not to stare.

He stopped in the doorway, his face hidden behind the roses. But you could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Thanks again. I owe you."

Then he was gone.

You looked after him, a little wistful. Should've asked for his number. But as you made to close the door, something green caught your eye – a cap, hanging from the door handle. You smiled. It was the same color as his uniform, with Liberio flower shop embroidered in yellow thread on the front.

Had he left it on purpose? You shook your head, trying to shake off your delusions. He'd probably put it there earlier, when he needed his hands to check the address on his phone, and promptly forgot all about it. Oh well. You didn't mind, if it meant you'd see him again.

– –

The doorbell rang while you were taking a nap on the couch, ripping you from your peaceful slumber. For a moment, you were thoroughly disoriented. You squinted at your phone, trying to find the button to turn off the nonexistent alarm. Then the doorbell rang again. With a raspy groan, you rolled off the couch and stumbled over to the door.

"Flower delivery!" a familiar voice called out as you opened the door.

You blinked at the man in front of you, eyes still blurry with sleep. "Reiner?"

Your eyes fell to the flowers in his hands, a jumble of pink, white and yellow,

extended toward you with a lopsided grin.

"Very funny. You're probably here for your cap?" It had been almost a week since Valentine's Day, and you'd begun to think he'd never show up to collect it.

"My cap?" Reiner asked, a little perplexed. "Oh yeah. That, too, I guess. But it's not really why I came." He glanced down at the flowers still held out to you. "Actually…" He trailed off. "These are for you. To say thanks, and also sorry for the trouble. And for giving you flowers only to take them away again. That was pretty crummy of me, actually."

He shifted his weight, still not looking at you. Your heart melted.

"Oh, that's so thoughtful of you! They're so pretty, thank you!"

You gently took the bouquet from his fingers, holding them up to your nose to take in the smell. "Mm-hmm, they smell heavenly."

"I'm glad you like them," Reiner said, his face breaking into a wide grin. "To be honest, I kinda arranged them myself. Though I'm no florist or anything. But I asked which flowers meant what, and kinda went from there."

"Really?" you asked, taking in the eclectic selection of flowers in the bouquet. It looked a bit chaotic, but the fact he had arranged them himself made it so cute you could explode. "What do they mean?"

"Yellow tulips signify gratitude. Just like the peach roses." He pointed at the lighter shade of the two kinds of roses in the bouquet. "The pink carnations are for apologies. The white tulips too, and apparently they also symbolize new starts. Thought that was fitting. And the pink roses symbolize…" He cleared his throat. "Do you maybe wanna get coffee sometime?"

You bit back a smile. "That's… oddly specific. I had no idea pink roses could mean that. But I'd love to."

"Great, I know a good place." Reiner grinned. "And they definitely mean that. You should take my word for it. I'm fluent in flower language, you know?"

"Sure you are," you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's true."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really. Tell me, then – what's the appropriate flower for when you want someone to remember to take their cap with them this time?"

Reiner smirked, eyes gleaming with a smug confidence. "Easy. Forget-me-nots."

You broke into laughter. "Oh, that's actually perfect. That should be your flower. I'll give you some next time, as a memory booster."

He shook his head, clicking his tongue in mock offense. "Now that's just rude. I'll have you know that I actually have a good memory. I'm just sometimes a bit… distracted."

"Distracted, huh? If that's what you want to call it."

But as you looked up at him, your teasing grin faded into a genuine smile. However much you might poke fun at him about it, you were secretly grateful that he was like that. After all, it had brought him to your doorstep. Now you just needed to invite him in.

A/n: And this ends my silly little fic for the Valentine's Day prompt of @fromriches-tosin's cute AOT bingo <3 It's the first story I did for Reiner, and I'm thinking about maybe doing more for him in the future (he's actually one of my favorite characters.) Let me know what you think!

Credit: The cute forget-me-not divider is by @saradika-graphics!

Tag list: @nironasaran, @shakysif

If you'd like to be tagged for future works, follow this link to join my tag list (or send me a DM). See you <3

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #aot #attack on titan #reiner braun fluff #snk #shingeki no kyojin #reiner #reiner aot #reiner x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun x y/n #reiner x you #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #aotbingo2025 #aruani

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kirbmey · 2 days ago

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psycho killer zayne !

💌: this won’t suit everyone, veeeery graphic descriptions of torture, gore, etc. it was inspired by american psycho, so you get an idea. don’t like it? leave, block me, whatever.

the relationship you had with zayne was soft, quiet and intimate. he was such a sweetheart to you, truly.

for example, calling you when he had a break between surgery and surgery, checking on you and asking you the most caring questions with a lovely tender voice.

“honey, how are you? I just got out of the operating room. couldn’t stop thinking about you since I left this morning.” he confessed in a tender manner, holding the phone between his head and shoulder while he took off his surgical gloves, sitting on a random chair in an empty hallway.

you expected his calls, always. pacing around his house impatiently, dressed in his big shirts as you sat by the window, looking at the city lights from above as you two held the conversation in almost whispers.

“you shouldn’t think of me when someone’s life is at risk, silly.” you giggled softly, placing your head in the hand you rested on the windowsill, viewing the streets you always walked next to your lover while holding hands. “I miss you, want you here with me.” you added with a pout taken over your lips.

the line went silent for a second as zayne started to come up with ways to excuse the reason why he wouldn’t make it home for tonight. “my dear, I miss you too, more than you can imagine. but I have to cover my colleague for the night, I won’t make it home today.” you were the silent one now, feeling the sadness you were too familiar with creep to your heart.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’ll make it up to you.” he stated after waiting for a response that never came, fidgeting with the discarded glove as he expected your sweet voice to reassure him from the other side of the line.

you shut your eyes in an attempt to make the tears roaming around your eyes disappear. “it’s fine, don’t worry. don’t forget to rest a bit and eat, please?” he hummed as a response to your request, keeping up the conversation until he has to leave, saying goodbye with a warm ‘I love you’ to which you replied the classic ‘I love you too’.

you would never know, but he was doing this for you, to protect you.

protect you from the zayne you had no relationship with at all, the one you never met. and will never meet.

you see, zayne’s always been a calm guy, so put together and collected. he always knew how to handle any complex situation, any angry patient, any of your tantrums complaining about not spending enough time together.

you thought you’ve already met the unleashed zayne when he fucked you for the first time, distancing from the caring one you loved. how he pounded into your cervix so fast, how he slapped across your face after spitting on your mouth, how he spoke those mean words in such a condescending manner, as if he was making you a favor. you loved this zayne as well.

that was all the mean he could get to you, when he felt like fucking you instead of making love to you. and you never worried too much about it either, he didn’t mean those words, he wasn’t like that.

your zayne wasn’t like that.

the zayne stalking behind a woman your exact age to push a cloth over her mouth and put her to sleep so he could lock her in a filthy basement was like that.

he doesn’t know why or when those thoughts started to mess up with his mind, but he got off to them. the image of women crying in fear, begging for their lives as blood covered their oh so beautiful breasts was better than any porn video online.

and hey, he’s been doing this for a while now, even before you two met. but his little sweet angel only made it worse, because now you were the one he imagined crying and begging, covered in blood. and he was scared as he didn’t want to hurt you like that, in a permanent way. not in a kinky way, in a deathly way.

he wished he could kill you again, again and again, and then make you come back to life to kill you once more. he wanted to take care of you in the tenderest way possible and wanted to kill you in the filthiest way possible too.

so he started to murder more often, and he got crueler each time. the latest victim in front of him, oh poor soul, was going to be a witness to the zayne you’ll never know.

the girl in front of his broad figure stood naked with both her wrists tied to the ceiling with the roughest rope ever made, making the soft skin brake into small droplets of blood.

zayne fucking loved blood.

she stir awake, her eyes adjusting to the white light as her heartbeat raced faster each passing second, screaming for help and squirming around to try and break free form the restraints.

“my fucking god, why you whores always react the same way?” he spoke calmly as he approached her shaky form, grabbing a fistful of her hair to then slap her, not even close as the kind of slaps he gave you, making the girl shut up instantly as she started crying and apologizing.

zayne couldn’t care less about what she had to say, towering over her and fixated on the red liquid decorating her soft skin.

he had to touch it. smell it. taste it.

so he did, he leaned into her smaller frame, making her take a few steps back as he grabbed her arm to lick down on it, grunting when the metallic flavor covered his tongue. he got hard immediately.

he tasted it. now he needed to fuck into it.

“see? you can be silent for a while.” he chuckled lowly as he wiped the remains from his lips, turning around to grab a small cart hiding in the shadows and pull it in front of her, standing behind it. “but I’m afraid it won’t last—”

when she saw the contents of the silver platter on top of it she started crying and screaming once more. come on, it wasn’t so bad, was it?

his favorite scalpel with his name craved into the side, a sharp knife, a few nails next to a rusty hammer, a gun (boring) and a wrench.

lord, she didn’t even see the bat and machete in the lower shelf of the cart. how unconsiderate.

“I always let everyone choose, is the least I can do.” he clarified as he cleaned each of the tools before him with a cloth, pink with flowers. a gift you gave him; he carried a piece of you everywhere. “but don’t worry, dead or alive, you’ll test them all.”

after a little bit of pushing, yelling and cursing she chose the gun (he had to get rid of it, everyone chose the goddamn gun). he laughed wholeheartedly at her choice as he grabbed it and loaded it with a singular bullet.

he pushed the cart away to stand closer to her, filling her mouth with said cloth when her yelling got to his nerves. he always washed it after each job as he did with all of his tools, don’t worry. through and through a real and hygienic professional.

zayne traces the curve of her body with the head of the gun, palming himself through his briefs as he leaned down to whisper to her ear. “you think I’m gonna shoot you in the head and call it a day? after all the effort it took me to bring you here? no, no.” the gun stoped its travel, pointing at her tummy, caressing her bellybutton with it as he rubbed himself against his palm.

he held her head down to make her watch how he pressed the trigger, the bullet going trough her stomach. blood everywhere. now the fun part.

his white shirt was splashed with it, as his face, his hands, don’t even bother to think of how the wall behind her looked. everywhere he looked at, there was blood, red, warm blood.

zayne dropped the gun to the floor, grabbing her hips to bring her decaying body closer to him. he pulled the now bloody cloth out of her mouth before dropping it to the puddle next to the weapon, licking and kissing her crimson lips like a starving dog.

grunts and moans filled the four concrete walls as he rubbed his leaking tip against the hole in her tummy, tugging at the base as the foreskin feared to push a bit too much inside of said hole.

he didn’t even care about the now dead body in front of him, too busy breeding the wound after mere seconds. it was always like that, hard to get and fast to finish.

the other tools were used too, don’t worry. he had the time of his life that night.

and when he came back home to you, late at night when you were already fast asleep, after he burnt her and all of the possible evidence as he always did, he took a steamy shower, whistling full of joy, smiling at the dry blood converting the transparent water into that shade of pink you loved to then disappear down the drain.

you’d wake up shortly after with his dark and soft locks tickling your naked thighs as he nibbled at your clit and humped the mattress, offering you the best head he’d ever given to you. ever.

squirt all over his expensive sheets, over and over. so fucking wet, squelchy. warm, he needed more.

the sunlight met your lord knows what number orgasm, his jaw numb from all the effort and his mind cloudy because of the lack of sleep. “I love you, I love you.” he mumbled as he traced kisses from your thighs to your mouth, letting you taste the sweet nectar he got from you.

you’d ask him what’s gotten into him, he’d tell you he loves you once again.

your soft, quiet and intimate zayne loved you and wanted to take care of you.

the other zayne wanted to fucking kill you, stab you and beat you to death <3

let’s hope you never never ever meet him !

💌: yes i love patrick bateman and gore, I’m just a girl >_<

#lads headcanons #lads smut #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #lnds zayne smut #love and deepspace zayne smut #lnds zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne smut #zayne x you

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colorlessjay · 2 days ago

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Concept: S16 Dean got really, REALLY into photography while retired. Why? Well he realized far too late he had barely any pictures of Cas, so Dean is making up for lost time once Cas came back. And like, Cas’s beauty is hard to capture with some dinky phone camera and so he does some research and learns about lighting and lenses and depth of field, etc

And of course Dean is an old fashioned guy so he of course uses an old school film camera and has a dark room in their marital home and of COURSE Cas is his favourite muse and model.

Does he take 1000000 glamour shots of his gorgeous wife? DUH. Does he take even more creeper CANDID shots of Cas? double DUH. Does he also force Cas into doing dumb couples shoots with him like awkward prom pics or whole family portraits with terrible matching sweaters? What do you take him for? of course he does

(He also loves taking pictures of Jack and Cas together, and he has an active and willing collaborator in Jack. They once did a silly shoot for Jack’s 5th birthday where they have him do a baby->Kindergardener photo shoot but as his fully grown self and it’s hilarious to Dean and no he doesn’t then almost start crying right along Cas at the set ending with Jack standing on their porch, wearing a backpack, a spider-man t-shirt, and holding up a chalkboard with “first day of school!” Dean DIDN’T start crying then because he was already crying at the picture of Jack all blanket burrito’s and swaddled up with a “welcome home jack” à la baby’s home from the hospital style pic lol)

Sam tries showing Dean his new phone’s super high end camera and Dean is sooooo annoying and dismissive of it and scoffs at the results, especially what he learns it’s got that post processing AI shit on it. Bah.

(Claire makes his break out his rapid shot gear to get some sweet pics of her fighting a vampire to send to Kaia. Dean promises he’s staying out of the fighting part cuz he’s retired and this is Claire’s hunt but he does get a twinge of FOMO when she is the one with a machete and he’s got the telephoto lens to stay out of the way. But him catching the money shot of Claire doing the final beheading? That’s more exhilarating that the last 10 vampires hunts he went on before retirement combined. The pictures turn out AMAZING considering the lightning conditions at night! And the blood splatter! No Sam this isn’t disturbing and serial killer shit this is art!!)

Dean’s 2nd favourite model is of course Baby, he ends up getting some gig work are a car photographer from fellow old heads that also want glamour shots of their old classic cars on real film. Jody teases that it’s like Dean is directing a porno for the cars with how he talks about “lighting the contours” and “we gotta highlight this lady’s curves just right”

(And speaking of porno’s, yeah Dean’s taken many, MANY erotic nudes of his favourite model. Often on or in his 2nd favourite model. And yeah the cowboy gear gets used a LOT in these. Why do you think Dean asked Rowena for a spelled locked box that OBLY him and Cas can open? It was a lovely birthday present from the Queen of Hell that was only happy to provide!)

I love this idea so much I'm gonna write smut about it

Anon, idk who you are but DM me more of these ideas

reblog

#destiel #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #destielbttfau

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musingsofmajesty · 3 days ago

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𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐈𝐈

summary one night when you’re all alone, you need Eddie in a way you never have before. He’s more than happy to be a shoulder to lean on—and a canvas for your restless fingers to trace | fluff, mild hurt/comfort | wc 1.2k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．

Lilac, baby blue, red, sheer pink. One day in the library, while you're helping him with an overdue project for biology, Eddie realizes he’s been keeping track of all the colors you’ve painted your nails.

You stop in the middle of cutting out a construction paper mitochondrion when you catch his gaze lingering on your hands. He offers an apologetic smile, but a smirk pulls at your lips. “It’s okay," you say. "I stare at you all the time too.”

As his cheeks warm, he chuckles and returns to gluing a nucleus into the cytoplasm. Without looking up, he says, “You’ve just never painted your nails that color.”

He can sense your gaze return to him. "Sage," he says. "It’s nice.” He finally looks up and finds you with that familiar sparkle in your eyes.

“Yeah? You like it?” You extend your hand his way so he can get a better look.

He takes your hand in his and brushes his thumb over your fingers. “Looks pretty on you,” he says.

“What about me?” you can’t help but lilt next. “Am I pretty too?”

Rather than answering right away, he takes you in. There’s a depth to the softness in his gaze that almost makes you want to turn away in fear he’d see right through you. See that you are falling and falling fast.

“The prettiest,” he says, low and sure. Like a truth cemented long ago.

A week later, there’s a chill in the air today even though the sun shines in the sky. Along with the fire alarm, the buzz of chatter lingers in the air as all Hawkins High files outside for the drill. Despite the sea of students and staff, you manage to find just the boy you’re looking for. It helps that you’d recognize his lovely head of curls anywhere. All Robin can do is roll her eyes in fondness as you disappear.

Eddie doesn’t hear you walk up behind him, but turns around when you tap his shoulder. The curious furrow between his brows smooths in the wake of your sweet smile. “How’d you find me?” he asks with a soft, impressed chuckle.

“Magic.” You wiggle your fingers in front of his face with a flourish. “Why’d they have to choose the coldest day of the week?”

Eddie takes your hands in his and blows into them. Maybe it’s the way his larger hands cocoon yours, or the simple thought behind the gesture, but it feels way too lovely. Enough to make pleasant, light flutters arise in your chest. Neither of you mind the curious eyes that drift your way.

Your voice drops lower as you say, “We should leave.”

“Now?”

“Yeah…” You bite your lip to keep from smiling wider.

“And go where?” he asks as a small thrill stirs inside him.

“Anywhere we want, silly,” you say.

You’d go anywhere with him. Do anything. It was so easy to be with him that it was all you ever wanted to do these days. If you’d told yourself that three years ago, you never would’ve believed it. You’d only ever seen him from afar. In the hallways in his band tees and funky jeans, at lunch with an unchanging group of friends, going to the drama room after dismissal.

There was something about the reserved way he carried himself in the moments that he was alone that drew you in. You’d gathered that he was well-mannered and kind. Sweet was the word everyone seemed to use. He lived a modest life out in Forest Hills with his hardworking uncle.

You don’t know why, then, it had taken you nearly four years to make a move.

Maybe it was the fear that you’d be too much. You knew everybody who was somebody at Hawkins High even though you kept your inner circle small. You always ran for student a council position when it came time for elections. There was seldom a party or sports game you missed, even if it was only to pop in for a little while.

But you weren’t too much. You could never be too much for him.

There comes a night, as Eddie strums his guitar in his bedroom, that the phone rings.

“Hey, kid!” Uncle Wayne calls out. “It’s for you.”

The older man, dressed for his night shift at the plant, bids Eddie goodbye after handing him the phone.

“Hello?”

“Teddy…” you murmur. You don’t sound like yourself. There’s a slight waver to your voice that makes a worried chill run through him. “Yeah, I’m here.” Thenhis voice gets soft and cautious, like he’s talking to a scared child, “What’s wrong?”

“I…I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. Not when he can hear your anxiety. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks carefully. “You can talk to me.” He’s fully prepared to stay up as long as you need.

But you remain quiet, so he tries something else: “Do you wanna come over?”

“Please?” you murmur. Because you can’t stop thinking about the future. The fact that graduation was a few months away. That prom, finals, and end-of-semester projects were due to start piling up fast within the coming weeks. It was the end of one of the most transformative periods of your life and the beginning of one you couldn’t even begin to conceptualize.

You soon find yourself curled up next to Eddie on his couch. “It’s just been so much lately,” you tell him, reaching out to absentmindedly play with his fingers.“And I know it’s stupid to feel this way since we’ve barely even started our lives...”

A brief silence stretches before Eddie disagrees,“We’ve started something.” He meets your gaze. “You’re not wrong for feeling the way you feel,” he continues. “So much is changing.”

You let your fingertips absentmindedly drift further up to trace bat tattoos on his forearm. Eddie’s watches as tingles spread up his arm. Your sage nail polish is chipped.

“So much,” you agree in murmur. Your fingers trail back down his arm, all the way to his palm that he turns upward for you. You trace the lines there, wondering what stories they hold. What fates they write out that you don’t have the insight to decipher.

Eddie swallows. “But maybe that’s a good thing. The change, he says, then amends, “We can make it good.”

Somehow it sounds possible coming from his lips. You raise his palm to your lips and place a gentle kiss against the callused skin.

You eventually lose track of how long you’ve been over, but it’s almost midnight. The TV glows with reruns of Happy Days, and your eyelids are getting heavy. He continues to brush gentle circles with his fingers over your shoulder, where he has draped his arm behind you across the couch.

“Hey, Eddie,” you sit up so you can look into his eyes. “Thanks for this.”

He offers a small smile. “Of course. Anytime,” he says, his voice a little rougher with tiredness. “I like having you over.”

Warmth blooms through you. “Careful,” you warn gently. “I might not ever leave.”

Eddie chuckles, but the thought doesn’t come close to bothering him. Then you get a nervous look about you as you pull your lower lip between your teeth. “Do you think I could maybe spend the night?”

He remains quiet not from the nature of the question, but from the fact it’s being asked. A peculiar, but pleasant feeling flutters in his chest.

"Sure," he finally answers.

Thanks for reading! All likes comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all! ♡

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson headcannon #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfiction

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crowliphale · 18 hours ago

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ALRIGHT.... after roughly three days and one complete re-work, i think i can now proudly show off my silly sims creation...

Madrick Roslof's House

(disclaimer: i know it's shown to be a cutesie little cottage in the module but hush i have an overactive imagination)

I took some HEAVY, HEAVY inspiration from @sweet-reaper's fic What Lies Between Us (as in, it was supposed to be a recreation but i'm more than 100% sure i messed some things up) so go give it tons of love!!!

Tour below the cut!

The Outside (front & back)

I'll admit I'm not the greatest exterior decorator, but I'm still happy with how it came out! I was going for a building that wasn't constructed professionally, but rather by the people living in it. Personalized, asymmetrical, kinda like my grandparents house...

The Foyer/Livingroom

You'll notice right away that Roslof has an absolutely chaotic variety of furniture, and that's completely intentional! I wanted it to feel like this house has been lived in for decades, becoming more of a place to store all of Roslof's trinkets rather than an organized space. For sims reasons I gave him a TV, but if it were purely dnd-based that wouldn't be there lol. The dollhouse is there for Hootsie, who's a toddler in my game!

The Kitchen

Kremy's baby. He practically lives in this room. Despite it being Roslof's house and kitchen, I REALLY leaned into the fact that this is Kremy's space. It's a lot cleaner than some other parts of the house, and feels slightly more updated while keeping that awesome vintage vibe. Not a ton to say, it's probably the 2nd most accurate to my initial vision while reading reaper's fic.

The Dining Room

Not a ton to say here! I honestly didn't even intend on adding a dining room at first, but realized i had an empty room that served no purpose, so why not make it a dining room? I'm really happy with the eclectic collection of chairs, and I felt like a genius for putting one to the side after I replaced it with Hootsie's high chair

~ UPSTAIRS ~

The Guest Room (currently Kremy & Gideon's room)

The MOST accurate to my vision while reading reaper's fic, I think the only part I wish I could change is that the table in the back is meant to be a vanity table. I also would've added more clutter and the shrine to the Baron, but I kinda just don't have the space/CC for that </3 otherwise I love this room!!

Roslof's Room (formerly, now deceased)

This one's the most lackluster in my opinion, I really didn't have a clear picture of what his room looks like. It's also likely getting changed in the future as Hootsie grows up--Maybe I'll move Gideon and Kremy into here at some point... either way it isn't awful, I wouldn't mind spending my final days in here.

Guest Room 2 (Frost & Gricko & Hootsie's room)

I think this is where I strayed the most from reaper's story. Not totally sure how the arrangement is in the fic, i haven't reread it in a minute, but I know I typically make the three other guys all bunk together... but as you can see, this room is WAY too small for that. So instead it's just Frost & Gricko & Hootsie. Didn't put a ton of effort in, but that's mainly because I don't think Frost or Gricko have very many worldly possessions to their names.

~ BASEMENT ~

The Workshop (Gideon's baby)

I literally just DON'T have the CC to make this work that great, but I tried to still arrange things the same way they looked in my mind! Again not much to say, without the proper CC it kinda just became a filler room.

The Storage Closet (Torbek's room)

Poor Torbek... FJDSKFS I'm actually so sorry I put him down here partially as a joke and partially because I couldn't remember where he sleeps in the fic. and because I was pretty much entirely out of space anywhere else. Sorry big guy, I gave you a night light as consolation

~ THE GREENHOUSE ~

The Greenhouse (the greenhouse)

THE GREENHOUSE!! It's my absolute favorite part of the build it's just downright gorgeous, I tried so so hard to make it work despite not having the correct CC/DLC, and I'm super happy with how it came out!! Literally all I would add is some hanging planters from the banisters this thing is great.

and... that's the house! Hooray! Not sure how else to end a post like this, so here's the worst photo ever of how the guys look (+ toddler Hootsie)

I'll probably make another post like this but for the family's closeups/outfits/traits if I notice enough interest for it.. anyway tho hope you liked my silly sims build!! go read reaper's stuff its actually peak i'm so serious!!

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ouaw #once upon a witchlight #legends of avantris #do i tag this as the characters too.. its not really focused on them #nahh i'll leave em out #i'll tag coalecroux tho cuz the fic is directly coalecroux related #coalecroux #ok scampering away now

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darksturnz · 7 hours ago

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── ⋮ ⌗ “BERRY MUCH. . .” ⟢ DAD.ᐟMATT ᵎᵎ

happy valentine’s day my sweet loves <3 i hope your day is full of kindness, love n gentle smiles. feeling a bit sappy today so here’s some corny corny fluff. all creds for dad!matt au to @mattscoquette

The first thing you register is the light—a little too bright for how early it should be.

Frowning, you stir beneath the covers, slowly stretching as sleep clings to you like a second skin. Something isn’t right. Normally, you’d wake to the sound of Matt shuffling out of bed, or the soft babbling of Leylani as he brought her in for morning cuddles.

But now? Silence.

Your stomach twists slightly as you rub the sleep from your eyes and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. The nursery. Maybe they’re both still in there.

Padding barefoot down the hall, you push the door open, only to find an empty crib.

Okay…so now the panic sets in.

You don’t even think—you just move, your feet quick against the wooden stairs as your heart pounds. The moment you reach the main floor, you exhale sharply, relief washing over you at the sight before you.

Leylani is fast asleep in her swing, chubby little fingers curled into loose fists, her small lips rising and falling with each little breath. The swing hums a soft lullaby, its gentle sway keeping her in deep sleep.

And then there’s Matt.

Sweet, sleep-deprived Matt, hunched over the stove like an overly stressed single mother, a burp rag draped over his shoulder, his free hand perched on his hip as he sways lightly from side to side.

The sight nearly makes you burst out laughing.

Then you notice the AirPods, grinning to yourself, you creep closer and poke his waist.

Matt jumps, spinning around so fast that he nearly knocks over the pan. His expression is wide-eyed, panicked, and—to your utter delight—he wields a spatula like a weapon, as if preparing to defend his scrambled eggs from an intruder.

It’s too much. You lose it.

A laugh bursts from your lips before you can stop it, and Matt, realizing what just happened, exhales dramatically, yanking out his AirPods. “Jesus Christ, woman! What is wrong with you?”

You giggle harder. “I—nothing—oh my god—”

“You’re sick,” he mutters, though his lips twitch upward as he sets the spatula down.

You step closer, winding your arms around his waist, still grinning. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

At that, he softens instantly. His arms come around you, pulling you against him as he presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your lips—slow, warm, and sleepily sweet.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

You hum against his mouth before pulling back, glancing at the stove. “What exactly are you doing?”

At that, Matt sighs dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

You blink. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He gestures vaguely toward the counter, where a tray is set up—coffee, eggs, toast, and a little bowl of cut-up fruit. “I had this whole plan, but uh… Ley had other ideas.”

You raise a brow, prompting him to continue.

“She didn’t fall back asleep until, like, six,” he groans. “And then the freakin’ DoorDasher showed up way too early and woke her up again, and she got all fussy. By the time I finally got her back down, I clearly didn’t have enough time.”

Your heart melts at the sheer defeat in his voice.

“Matt,” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I wanted to.” His hands settle on your waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns through your shirt. “I mean, it’s our first Valentine’s as parents. Figured I should do something special.”

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming beneath your ribs. “You already do so much for us,” you say softly. “You being here—being you—that’s already special.”

He exhales, leaning into your touch. “Yeah, well…” His eyes flick toward the counter again. “There’s something else, too, it’s kinda silly.”

Before you can ask, he steps away and grabs something off the side. When he turns back around, he’s holding a small canvas.

Your breath catches the moment you see it.

It’s a tiny, painted strawberry. But as you look closer, you realize—it’s made from Leylani’s footprints.

Beneath it, in Matt’s careful, slightly messy handwriting, are the words:

“I love you berry much, Mommy!”

Your throat tightens.

“Matt…” Your voice wobbles, your fingers ghosting over the dried paint.

“I saw something like that online,” he murmurs, suddenly shy. “And I dunno, I thought it was cute. So, uh… I got the stuff and did it last night while you were sleeping.”

Tears prick at your eyes.

Matt immediately panics. “Oh, shit—wait, don’t cry—”

A watery laugh bubbles out of you as you clutch the little canvas to your chest. “I love it,” you whisper.

His shoulders slump with relief. “Yeah?”

You nod, stepping forward to kiss him, slow and deep.

“Yeah.”

Matt melts into the kiss instantly, his hands settling on your waist as if he never wants to let go. It’s slow, lazy, and filled with so much warmth that you almost forget about the breakfast he painstakingly tried to prepare.

When you finally pull back, his forehead presses against yours, his eyes still fluttered shut like he’s savoring the moment. “So you really like it?” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep.

You smile, running your fingers through the mess of his hair. “I love it, Matt.” You pull back just enough to glance down at the canvas again, a soft laugh escaping you as you trace the tiny footprints. “I mean, look at this. Her little feet—oh my god.”

He chuckles, watching the way you admire it like it’s the greatest masterpiece ever created. “Yeah, she wasn’t too thrilled about the paint. Kinda made a mess. There’s still some on the back of her neck—I couldn’t get it all off.”

Your laughter deepens. “Matt, how does one even get paint on the back of their neck from a footprint project?”

Matt shrugs. “I dunno, man. She’s creative like that.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is so full it might burst.

Still clutching the painting to your chest, you glance over at Leylani, her tiny chest rising and falling in deep sleep. “She looks so peaceful,” you whisper.

Matt follows your gaze, something unbelievably soft settling into his expression. “She had a rough morning,” he says, but there’s no complaint in his voice—just adoration, just love.

Your throat tightens again, because how did you get so lucky?

You look back at Matt, taking in every sleepy, disheveled detail—his wrinkled T-shirt, the dirty burp rag still draped over his shoulder, the stubble darkening his jaw that he clearly didn’t have time to shave. He looks so tired, but he also looks so unbelievably beautiful, standing there in the early morning light, having sacrificed his entire night just so you could rest.

And he’s still here, still showing up, still loving you in ways that leave you breathless.

You reach up, cupping his face again, your thumbs brushing over the faint shadows beneath his eyes. “You’re such a good dad,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

Matt’s breath catches.

His eyes soften in a way that makes your chest ache. “Yeah?” he asks, like he needs to hear it again, like he needs it tattooed into his skin.

You nod. “The absolute best.”

His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something—maybe something too big for words—but instead, he just leans in, pressing the gentlest kiss to your lips. It’s not rushed, not hurried, just pure love wrapped up in the soft press of his mouth against yours.

When he pulls back, his hands slide down to your waist, tugging you just a little closer. “So…” he starts, a lopsided smile creeping in, “does this mean you’re officially accepting my botched Valentine’s Day surprise?”

You laugh, leaning into him. “I think this might be my favorite Valentine’s Day ever.”

His grin stretches, but then his stomach rumbles loudly between you, and you both freeze before bursting into quiet laughter.

Matt groans dramatically, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “God, I’m starving,” he mumbles into your shirt.

You giggle, running your fingers through his hair. “Well, I was about to be served breakfast in bed, so…”

He scoffs, pulling back with an amused look. “You still can be. I’ll just, y’know, reheat everything and pretend it was fresh.”

You snort. “How romantic.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “I do try.”

You shake your head, biting back a grin before standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “How about we eat in here?” You glance toward the couch. “So we don’t have to wake up ley up.”

Matt’s eyes practically twinkle. “Sounds perfect.”

And it is.

Because as you sit together, plates balanced on your laps, feet tangled beneath the couch, stealing soft kisses between bites of slightly cold eggs and toast, you realize—this is love. Not the grand, extravagant gestures. Not the fancy dinner reservations or diamond jewelry.

This.

A quiet morning. The smell of scrambled eggs. The weight of Matt’s arm draped lazily around your shoulders. The soft sounds of your baby’s swing, lulling her into dreams.

And a tiny, precious footprint strawberry.

The best Valentine’s Day ever.

authors note: i’m a sucker for corny valentines idc

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gul4bjamoons · 2 days ago

Text

✩ scoops of doubt;

aurélien tchouaméni ──────

grabbing ice cream after a meal is a cherished tradition for the two of you, but the sweetness fades when a single comment sends your emotions over the edge.

⭑ wordcount : four thousand four hundred sixty-seven.

⭑ notes : not sure if you guys will like this fic as it is more sensitive, but i wanted to write about a topic that everyone struggles with to some extent: body image. everyone’s body is beautiful and comes in different sizes; as for this story i picked a reader on the chubbier end and will be diving into some insecurities that they could face. i tried my best to display this topic in an appropriate manner and and as always, my dms are open if you ever need someone to talk to, though i'm not a professional. <3

warning : body image struggles

˙⋆✮ masterlist.

Going out with Aurélien was always special, and tonight was no exception. You both enjoyed taking turns picking places for your date nights, and no matter where you dined, you always ended up at your guy’s favorite ice cream shop afterward. This summer evening, it was his pick—a hidden gem that his teammate, Federico Valverde, had strongly recommended. After just a few bites, it was obvious that the footballer had made the perfect choice.

The night was filled with the usual tender smiles and exchange of dishes. Each of you stealing bites from one another and debating whose choice was the superior one. It was silly, but it made the meal feel more like an adventure in itself.

“Okay, so I definitely picked the best dish this time,” Aurélien grinned, as he leaned over to offer you another bite of his meal. “I knew you’d love it.”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing him. “Oh really? Are we going to keep a tally of who picks the better dish? Because, overall, I’m pretty sure I’m winning right now.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, no. You definitely think you are, don’t you? But you can’t deny that this is a strong contender.”

You pouted, taking the bite he offered. "Fine, you win this round. But next time, I’ll make sure to pick something even better."

He leaned back, giving you a playful, mock-dramatic look. “This is war, then. Prepare for the next round.”

You both laughed, enjoying the easy rhythm of the conversation. The little games you played over shared bites of food made the whole experience feel so much more fun.

“So,” Aurélien started, swirling his wine in his glass. “If I win this little food battle we’ve got going, what do I get as a prize?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm, well, what kind of prize do you think you deserve?”

He leaned in with a teasing smile. “A kiss, obviously.”

“A kiss, huh? ”Your lips curling into a playful smile as you raised an eyebrow. “Well, I guess I could be persuaded,” you teased, a flirty spark in your eyes.

Aurélien leaned in close, a teasing smirk on his face. “Come on,” he whispered.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, playing along, and your thumb grazed his cheek as you leaned in like you were going to kiss him. But, just before your lips met his, you quickly swiped your thumb across the side of his mouth, wiping off the sauce he’d missed earlier. His eyes widened, and he groaned in disbelief, clearly disappointed.

“Oh, come on!” he muttered, though he couldn’t help the small smile that crept back on his face.

A mischievous laugh escaped your lips as you watched him, his mock frustration only making the moment more delightful. The soft glow of the candlelight danced across his face, highlighting the amused sparkle in his eyes. It was as if you guys were in your own bubble of happiness.

You savored the moment, the rich flavors of the meal dancing on your tongue as you made your way through the courses. Aurélien’s rants about training filled the space between you, his voice blending with the clink of silverware against plates. It felt almost dreamlike—the way the world outside faded away as you both sank deeper into the rhythm of each other’s company. You both finished your plates slowly, savoring the last few mouthfuls, reluctant to leave the comfort of the cozy Italian place.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick before we head out.” Your boyfriend stated as he squeezed your hand to signal his departure.

You nodded, watching as Aurélien stood and melted into the crowd, his tall frame effortlessly disappearing toward the restrooms. Left to your own thoughts for a moment, you took a slow sip of your drink, letting your eyes drift around the warm ambience. As you glanced over the dessert menu, you pondered your options. You knew you’d both end up at the ice cream shop later—it had become a tradition—but maybe you could share something here first. It seemed like the perfect compromise. After all, the idea of a sweet Italian pastry was tempting. A crisp cannoli? Or a velvety tiramisu? You couldn’t decide, so you waved down the waiter, hoping for a little guidance.

“Excuse me, could you help me choose between the cannoli and the tiramisu?” you asked, flashing a smile. “Which one do you recommend?”

“Oh, another order?” The waiter raised an eyebrow. “Well, the tiramisu is world-class, but after all that, I doubt you’d even fit in your dress anymore.” He chuckled as he answered you.

The words hit you instantly, meant to be playful but coming across with an edge that caught you off guard. You froze, a flush creeping up your neck as the comment sank in. For a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond.

A wave of self-consciousness washed over you, and instead of anger, you felt a rush of awkwardness. Was that really necessary? You opened your mouth to say something, but the words never came.

Finally, you let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to brush off the discomfort. "Uh, yeah... can I just get the check, actually?" you said, offering a tight smile as you reached for your drink, hoping the awkwardness would pass.

The waiter nodded, clearly unaware of the effect his words had, and turned to go. You sat back in your chair, fiddling with the napkin in your lap. You shook your head slightly, trying to push the feeling aside. You felt silly for letting the situation impact you like this. Nothing had seemed overtly wrong. Just… a bit strange. But then again, it could have just been in your head.

Although the waiter left, it felt like every eye in the room was suddenly fixed on you, each gaze heavy with judgment. Of course, you knew this wasn’t true—logically, you understood no one was staring at you—but that didn’t stop the feeling from washing over you like a cold wave. Your body suddenly uncomfortable in the chair, too much for the space around you. The fabric of your outfit felt suffocating now—clinging to you in ways that highlighted every inch. You wished you could just disappear.

Your stomach twisted, the pressure growing unbearable, the feeling of nausea even crept in. Every breath felt like too much effort, too loud, as if just being alive was drawing in too much attention. Your arms crossed over your torso instinctively, hoping you could somehow hide yourself from the world. But nothing helped, the ache was deeper than anything you could physically conceal. Your thighs pressed against the seat, and you could swear they expanded under the weight of your thoughts, a cruel trick of perception that only fed the panic rising inside you.

The heat clung to you, pressing down on your chest, its weight making each breath feel shallow and strained. It was like being trapped inside the very furnace that had just baked your pizza, the warmth heavy and stifling, consuming everything in its path.

You managed to steady yourself before Aurélien returned, but the floor beneath you betrayed every shift. Each small movement sent a sharp creak reverberating through the silence, an intrusive sound that seemed to echo your every restless gesture.

As Aurélien came back, the waiter dropped the check off. Your boyfriend’s focus immediately shifting to it, his hand instinctively reaching for his wallet. He sat down across from you, as he placed down his card.

You tried to hide the faint tremor in your hands and the nervous habit of tugging at the hem of your dress, hoping he wouldn’t notice. It was a silly plea when you considered the fact that Aurélien had been trained on the pitch to detect even the smallest shifts in movement—to read the slightest twitch of a muscle or the faintest change in posture. It was second nature to him, a skill honed over years of relentless focus.

So, of course, he noticed.

“You okay, mon amour?” he asked gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. He wasn’t demanding, wasn’t pushing, just offering you a space to speak.

You swallowed, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Mhm, just tired,” you muttered.

Aurélien didn’t press further, but the eerie quiet between you lingered once he stood up from the table as he thanked the waiter. He reached for your hand as you both moved toward the door, his grip warm and steady, though his fingers tightened slightly, as if sensing something was still off. You followed him outside, the streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement.

As you approached the car, Aurélien opened the passenger door for you, his usual confident smile back in place, though there was something in his gaze that seemed to weigh you down even more. You sat down staring out the window, the city passing by like a blur as he drove, you hoped for a reprieve from the heavy feeling in your chest.

With dinner finished, the next step in your routine should have been a trip to the charming little ice cream shop nearby, a tradition that had started on your first date. It was a small, unassuming parlor where, with complete confidence, he had declared he could figure out your favorite flavor just by looking at you. Of course, he was wrong—but his confidence had made you laugh so hard your stomach ached, and in the end, you picked that flavor as your new favorite.

Yet tonight, the thought of ice cream twisted your stomach in a different way.

“Aurélien… I’m not really feeling it tonight,” you said in a hushed voice, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

Aurélien shot you a glance, brow furrowing. “Not feeling it?” he echoed, as if the words themselves were foreign.

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll get any ice cream”

His face fell slightly, a small frown tugging at his lips, but after a moment, he nodded. "Okay."

Instead of heading toward the ice cream shop, he smoothly made a U-turn at the next light.

“Wait, did you not want anything either?” you asked, blinking at him.

He glanced over at you with a half-smile. “It’s okay. Ice cream doesn’t taste nearly as good unless I’m sharing it with you.” He paused for effect, his grin widening. “I mean, have you ever tried chocolate chip cookie dough all alone? It’s just... sad."

You let out a soft chuckle, your shoulders relaxing a bit. "You’re ridiculous."

He just shrugged, eyes still on the road. "Hey, I swear the flavor will grow on you one day."

You looked back out the window, resting your head against the cool glass, feeling the weight of your earlier thoughts lighten just a little.

Then, his hand reached for yours, his grip warm and steady. His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of your hand, a quiet, soothing motion—one that seemed to soothe something deep inside you, though he was unaware of what.

When he pulled into the driveway, he turned to you, opening his mouth as if to say something. But you were already unbuckling your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle before he could voice his concern.

“I’m gonna go change,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t wait for a response, slipping out of the car and into the house, where the warmth should have been comforting but only felt suffocating.

Aurélien lingered in the entryway, watching you disappear up the stairs, his frown deepening. This wasn’t exhaustion. This wasn’t just a passing mood. This was something deeper, something festering just beneath the surface, something eating at you from the inside out. And he knew. He always knew.

But he also understood you wouldn’t talk until you were ready. With a quiet sigh, he leaned against the doorframe, dragging a hand down his face before slowly removing his shoes, giving you the space he knew you thought you needed.

Upstairs, you hurried to the bedroom, the door swinging shut behind you—or so you thought. You barely noticed it remained slightly ajar, too preoccupied, too desperate to strip yourself free from the weight clinging to you.

Your dress pooled at your feet, as if even the fabric was eager to rid itself of you. Shedding you like an old skin—but unfortunately, this was no simple transformation. You didn’t even spare it a second glance before tossing it onto the chair in the corner. Your heart hammered in your chest, beating so fast you could feel it in your throat.

Your hands reaching for one of Aurélien’s shirts—the one that always offered solace in ways nothing else could, especially when he was away, swallowed by the distance of football and travel. But just as you were about to pull it fully down on yourself, your gaze flickered to the mirror.

And everything stopped.

The reflection didn’t greet you with kindness. It didn’t soften its edges, didn’t smooth out the harsh truths you spent so long ignoring.

It stared back, merciless, cruel in its honesty, dragging your eyes down the lines of your body like an artist outlining every flaw with deliberate strokes. As if it’s not just your body that feels burdened, but your mind too.

Your stomach—softer than you wanted, pushing outward when you wished it would vanish instead. The skin stretching slightly, smooth with a few faint lines marking where it met your waistband.

Your chest—felt fuller than before, both physically and emotionally heavy. The discomfort pulling at your spine, making every movement feel strained.

But worst of all? Your thighs.

You let your shirt slip, falling softly over your figure as your hands instinctively found their way to your thighs. Your fingers pressed into the warm flesh, grasping, as if to test reality. You felt the resistance of how they refused to shrink, to yield, no matter how desperately you willed them to. Each inch of flesh that you grip only deepens the chasm between who you are and who you wish to be. There’s a sense of helplessness in the way your fingers meet the soft curve of your thighs, like you’re at war with your own skin.

You want to recoil, to pull your hands away, but they stay, as if your own touch has become a punishment. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the reflection in the mirror, but even with your lids shut tight, it’s as though the image is burned onto the back of your eyelids. The feeling doesn’t go away, not even in the dark. It lingers, clinging to your skin like an unwelcome shadow that refuses to leave.

You wanted to sever off the parts that wouldn’t obey.

Your breath hitched, nausea pooling in your stomach. The mirror made a mockery of you, highlighting every insecurity, every whispered doubt, every cruel thought that lurked beneath the surface. You crossed your arms over yourself, dread curling around your ribs like barbed wire. A sickening thought sank its claws into you:

Why would he want you when you look this way?

The thought struck without warning, a tightening coil cutting off the oxygen to your lungs.

Would he still trace his fingers over your skin with that same reverence? Still hold you, still love you, when you felt like nothing but a burden too heavy to carry? If you couldn't even love yourself, then how could anyone else?

The faint sound of movement drew your attention, and a chill swept through you. You spun, and there he was—Aurélien Tchouaméni, standing in the doorway, his eyes shadowed with something you couldn't quite place. His heart silently shattering as he watched the person he loved more than anything crumble beneath the unbearable weight of their own reflection.

He had seen everything.

Your arms yanking down the shirt, a pathetic attempt to shield yourself from his gaze, but it was too late. His expression was no longer just concern—it was heartbreak. For you. For whatever cruel battle you were fighting inside your own head.

“Mon amour,” his voice was quiet, hesitant, as if afraid to startle you.

You wanted to say something, anything, but your throat had closed up. Embarrassment burned through you, hot and suffocating. You felt exposed, vulnerable in the worst way, like every insecurity you tried to hide had been laid bare for him to see.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away. "I—I’m fine…really I—"

“Amour…” he interrupted gently, stepping inside the room, closing the distance between you both. “Please, don’t try to hide from me.”

You shook your head, averting your gaze. “I can’t—” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed, shaking your head harder. “Please... just give me a minute. I don’t want you to look at me when I’m like this.”

Aurélien’s expression faltered, his brows furrowing as the hurt on his face became undeniable. He reached out, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like what?” he asked, stepping closer, his heart in his eyes.

“Like this— I’m a mess,” you whispered, gesturing at yourself like your own body was something disgusting, something shameful. “Like—like I take up too much space. Like I’m too much. I—I don’t feel like—"

The footballer sighed, stepping back, running a hand over his head. His jaw clenched, and his whole body tensed.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. His hands curling into fists at his sides. “Who made you feel like this?” His voice was quiet, his protectiveness beaming through.

“Who?” he asked again, not taking your silence as a response.

You could hear the barely veiled frustration underneath, but not at you—never at you. It was anger at whoever had planted this seed of doubt in your mind, at whatever had made you believe that you were anything less than extraordinary.

You swallowed, shaking your head. “Well the waiter,” you finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “He made some stupid comment, but… it’s not just that.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” he said, his posture stiffening.

You let out a shaky breath, shaking your head. “I wish I was.”

His fingers curled into fists at his sides, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “If I’d heard it—” he exhaled sharply, reigning in his anger. “I would’ve said something.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But it’s not just about what he said. It’s how I’ve been feeling for a while actually.”

Aurélien exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before stepping closer, his hands hesitating before cupping your face. His thumbs caught the next tear before it could fall. "Amour… I love you so much," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Please, just talk to me about it."

The weight of his words unraveled something in you, and before you could stop it, a sob broke free from your throat. Your knees buckled slightly, but Aurélien caught you as you stumbled, his arms scooping you up, strong but delicate. His warmth enveloped you entirely, and for the first time all night, you felt at ease as you laid in bed.

“I hate that you feel like this,” he murmured against your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. “I hate that someone made you doubt how incredible you are.”

You let out a choked laugh, but it held no humor. “It’s not someone, it’s me,” you admitted, voice trembling. “It’s how I’ve felt for a bit.”

His hold on you tightened, his jaw tensing against your hair. He was quiet for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was raw. “Still, I wish I could just make it all go away. You shouldn't have to carry this alone. I’ll carry it with you.”

More tears slipped down your cheeks as he peppered your face with kisses. His lips brushed over your skin in the softest, most reverent way. But then his hands found your thighs, gripping them firmly, kneading them as if committing them to memory. His fingers traced over the softness of your stomach, his grip both possessive and tender.

“Mon amour,” he whispered, voice husky, thick with emotion. “Do you know how perfectly you fit against me?”

Like you were made to be there, pressed into him like the missing piece of a puzzle.

A shiver ran down your spine at the sheer conviction in his voice, the way his hands never wavered as they caressed you, he was worshiping every inch. He pressed a hot, lingering kiss to your jaw, then down your neck, his breath fanning over your skin.

“I love being suffocated by your thighs,” he murmured, nipping playfully at your skin, earning a startled laugh from you despite the tears still clinging to your lashes.

You swatted at his arm, pushing at his chest. “Aurélien!”

He grinned against your skin, placing one last kiss to your temple. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

You sniffled, hands clutching at his shirt, the fabric bunching between your fingers. “I just don’t feel—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted gently, cradling your face again so you had no choice but to look at him. His eyes were burning with something fierce, something unshakable. “You are enough, mon amour. You always have been. And if you can’t see it right now, that’s okay—I’ll remind you every single day.”

A broken sob escaped your lips, but this time, it wasn’t from sadness alone.

It was from the overwhelming love, the sheer depth of what this man was offering you. A love so pure, so unwavering, that for the first time, the voice in your head telling you that you “weren’t enough” quieted.

Aurélien exhaled, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t care if we have to stay up all night, but I’m not letting you go until you understand how much I love you.”

You let out a wet laugh, sniffling. “That might take a while.”

His lips quirked up, but his eyes were still serious. “Then I hope you’re comfortable, because I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

Another moment of silence passed, your ears pressed to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat. He took a deep breath, then smiled—this time lighter, with something familiar in it.

"You know what we need?" he asked, his voice soft but certain.

You blinked up at him, still sniffling. “What?”

“Ice cream.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “I just said I didn’t want any.”

“And I just decided that’s unacceptable,” he said, guiding you toward the door. “Come on, we’re going.”

You gave him a half-hearted glare, but he simply grinned ear to ear. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

A small smile broke through your haze of sadness. “Fine. But no more strange flavors!”

The drive to the ice cream shop was quiet, filled only by the soft hum of the music playing in the background. Aurelien’s hand never left yours, his touch a steady reassurance, grounding you in the present. Every now and then, he’d steal a glance at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips, as if he were silently reminding you that you weren’t alone.

When you stepped into the familiar little shop, the soft chime of the bell above the door echoed in the stillness, and for a moment, the weight pressing down on your chest lifted just a little. The warm scent of freshly made waffle cones filled the air, wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

Aurélien made a show of examining the menu, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I think… I’m going to pick for you, just like our first date.”

You arched a brow, crossing your arms as you challenged him. “Oh? And what makes you think you’ll get it right this time?”

He smirked, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Because I know you, mon amour.”

A few minutes later, Aurélien handed you a cone with a knowing grin. The flavor he picked wasn’t just good—it was perfect. Honey Vanilla Bean.

“You know, I really wanted to go with blueberry,” he admitted with a teasing smirk. “But I figured… you deserve something like you. Sweet, comforting, a little bit of warmth when everything feels cold.” He paused, feigning exasperation. “Also, I really didn’t want to get yelled at over an ice cream scoop.”

You shook your head in disbelief, holding back a grin. “Alright, fine. You win.”

His grin was smug as he bumped his shoulder against yours. “So, can I get my prize now?”

With a playful glint in your eye, you stood on your tiptoes and pulled him in, pecking his lips. The moment was brief but full, the sweetness melting between you as his fingers brushed your waist, holding you steady.

Hand in hand, you wandered outside and settled onto the curb, the cool night air wrapping around you like a quiet embrace. Aurélien pulled you closer, his warmth a contrast to the gentle chill.

Aurélien nudged you with his elbow, holding out his own cone. "Here, try some of my chocolate chip cookie dough. I even got star-shaped sprinkles on it."

Rolling your eyes as you leaned in, ready to taste it, but just as your lips parted, the ice cream dripped on to your face. Your eyes widened in shock as he burst into laughter.

Before it could roll off your body, Aurélien leaned in without hesitation, licking the ice cream off your face before pressing a brief, puckish kiss to your lips.

“There, crisis averted.” He announced smugly, pulling back with a satisfied smirk.

You shoved him away with a mix of laughter and disbelief. "Eww Aurélien, what is wrong with you?!"

He grinned, completely unfazed. "Oh, plenty, but you still love me."

You rolled your eyes, but as you looked at him—at the man who had spent the last hour trying to hold you together when you felt like you were falling apart—you felt your heart flutter.

“I do,” you whispered, leaning into his side.

His arm tightened around you, holding you securely in his arms as his cheek rested against your hair. “Good. Because I love you more. Every single part of you.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you actually believed it.

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nlovesbjh · 3 days ago

Note

hello!!! can i ask you to write something about nct wish hyung line? or sion specifically :3

details are up to you🤭

𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑏𝑎𝑑! nct wish hyungs x reader ៸៸ fluff

( 시온 ) — sion

yall remember that one fancall when sion said he's always getting nervous around pretty women? yeah, i think about that one pretty much a lot especially because sion is super giggly and soft and just so idk gentleman type yk? i believe he'll adore everything and anything about you. even the things you didn't know existed in you or your habits he noticed that you would never think of. you'd never think that such small things would attract your boyfriend, which is cute obviously <3

"have you seen my lipstick? it was somewhere in the living room.." you'd ask him, looking for your other makeup stuff in your room, while your boyfriend were preparing for a movie night. you held some makeup in your one hand, searching through your things with another.

"why do you need this lipstick right now?" sion asked, look for it anyway. he'd literally do anything you asked him to, doesn't matter if it didn't make any sense to him like why would you need a lipstick on a movie night at home?

you walked out of the room, hand is still full and the other one is holding your bag. you placed everything on the kitchen counter, turning around to look at your boyfriend. "because i can't find it! i don't wanna lose it again, okay? i just bought it…" you explained, sitting down and placing your head on the counter and sighing.

"is it pink?" you heard sion ask. you only hummed approvingly in response. then you heard your boyfriend's laugh. his laugh was always so bright and sweet, you looked up with a slight smile. you couldn't bring yourself to be annoyed by his behavior, he was too adorable laughing.

"why? what is it?"

"it was in your hand all the time!" he pointed at the lipstick that you placed on the counter, your eyes widened, face confused. how could you not notice that? sion was still laughing, seemed like he was enjoying this situation a bit too much.

"im so stupid!" you laughed as well. and all the thoughts in sion's head at that time were about how adorable you are when you're clumsy and a bit silly like that, loosing something that right there where you can see it.

( 리쿠 ) — riku

i feel like riku is not jst clingy boyfriend type ( as we all know by the way he's acting w jaehee yeah ) but also super supportive and entertaining lmao. he'd literally embarrass himself just to make you smile and feel better even if you're feeling down :) he loves to see you happy and concentrated on things you like, he's extremely proud and supports you through all the way. he'll give you all the time in the world to finish something, will help you and if you need some space or wanna do it yourself — he won't push it. he's understanding and caring, but he cares more about your comfort and the way you can express yourself without his help.

you were feeling down all week, everything wasn't right. your hair looked bad, makeup was not looking good, pimples pissed you off and you had nothing to wear because of the tricky weather. your mood was ruined, that's why you didn't wanna go on a date with your boyfriend, afraid you'd ruin his day too.

"no, riku. im not going out today, sorry.." you said on the phone as your boyfriend asked you out to new restaurant down the street where you live. you wanted to go there as soon as this place opened, but now you can't because everything is not working out.

"you sure? why?" riku sounded a bit concerned and confused at the same time, because he knew you wanted to go just a week ago.

"i don't know, everything is pissing me off and i look bad.."

"you never look bad!" riku cut you off, making you smile a little as he continued. "we can order takeout from that place and just watch something at your place? how about on of the barbie movies?"

"you seriously wanna watch barbie with me?" you giggled.

"if it'll make you feel better, i'll do anything. i can be your personal clown if you want to," he says and you couldn't hold back a laugh.

"okay that might be too much!" you joked, feeling a bit better from the fact that your boyfriend loves you so much that he can do anything for you and to light up your day. "you can come over, yeah. thank you.."

( 유우시 ) — yushi

we know yushi is shy and a bit awkward and im more than sure that he's like that with girls. doesn't matter if you've been dating for a month or three years, he'd be shy around you especially when you're giving him all your attention. but he definitely thinks you are his best friend, he trust you enough and have a special spot for you. the fact that he feels comfortable around you, not ashamed of doing something wrong, can talk abt everything with you and not afraid to speak his mind is important for him. he knows you won't judge him, he knows he can tell you anything and knows you can be trusted >.<

"y/n, stop.." yushi whispered, hiding his face in your shoulder after you kissed him on the lips infront of his members. it was a quick little kiss, he obviously liked it, but he was too embarrassed to enjoy it for a little longer. sion started giggling, pointing at his friend and smiling.

"you two are so cute!" sion clapped and the other members agreed, making you smile. you knew yushi is always shy like that, but you wanted to steal that little kiss from him anyway. he deserved that kiss, you thought he deserved all the kisses in the world and that's exactly what you whispered into his ear.

"you're making me feel more embarrassed.."

"i love making you embarrassed when you're cute like that," you said, bringing your hand to his hair to gently play with them. he smiled, sighing, finally giving in.

"honestly, i love when you're making me feel like that.." your eyes widened a little after that confession, making your boyfriend more sit up and look at you more confidently. "it's okay when it's you. making me understand that i am wanted."

"awww!" you heard his members mocking, making you roll your eyes in annoyance at them but still kissing your boyfriend again.

#⠀ ⟡ 𝒩. 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 #nct wish #nct wish x reader #sion x reader #riku x reader #yushi x reader #nct x reader #nct imagines #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #nct drabbles

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