#is this oneshot perfect

[lvrgirl-inc]

☆ ★ ☆

pair. Satoru Gojo x f!reader

wc. 1k

genres. House husband, stickers, smut, drabble, lowkey comedy, smut, riding, praise, teasing, “way to go superstar”, twt art, submissive(?) ‘Toru.

A/N: Random drabble written after seeing @baobei-bu ‘s twitter work (s) . Completely spontaneous. All credits to the artist, bravo.

☆ ★ ☆

————

There you were, stuffed full with delicious inches from your loving and ever the immature, Satoru. Large hands on your waist as you straddled his lap as your hips worked to suck him off with your body.

Panting like a dog and yet he still just looked..priceless. Not because of his facial expression, how he was biting down on his lip like it was the tastiest thing on earth, the grunts and whimpers that you earned with each slosh of your pussy—but the stickers.

Just a while before you two had gotten..well, here, you’d been showing off a sticker collection that the people at your job had acquired via cleaning the storage unit. Rainbows of multi and mono-colored cats, hearts, stars that had wound their way up on your boyfriend’s face. 

Though, when you’d placed one on his lips, using your own, he brought a thumb and his index up to your stomach. Just eyeing the expanse from fingertip to fingertip. Reasonably, you inquired what exactly he was doing and he breathed easily, “Just measuring.” 

“Measuring what?”

And absolutely nothing else came after that besides a lowering of those fluttering blanc lashes as he stared up at you. Already perched above him, covered in a few stickers, yourself.

Following that was easy for one to see how you were now riding a sticker-covered Satoru like your life depended on it.

The solo act of your cunt squelching and drooling all over his cock was interrupted by a sharp smack! directly to your ass, followed by an odd feeling in said location.

“Nghh..! ‘Toru, are you— f-fuck, are you kidding me..?” you’d complain in a breathless pant, looking down and over your shoulder a bit. Practically planted in the spot at this point, knees buckled and slack jawed just from his cock alone, this cheeky.. “Did you just- p-put a sticker on my—haah..!”

Swiftly cut off by another playful slap to the fat of your ass, he pulled that smug grin up at you, leaning forward to take up one of your perky tits into his mouth. He could probably never name another place or another taste better than his girls that always bounced so nicely when he was fucking you right. 

Gingerly sucking and tugging at your nipples, alternating between the two on either focal point of your breasts, you were reduced to a whiny mess on top of him easily. 

That straight shot just dragging and digging out your inner walls easily just as he pulled off your soft mound, replacing his mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding you spread nice for him. Looking up at you through that sweat dampened fringe of white. “Yeahhh, I gotta reward my lil’ superstar, don’t I?” he panted with the proudest smirk on his face. 

Bucking his hips up to meet yours one good time, your head cocked back with a mean jolt that went straight to your head. Fuck he hit that spot, dead-on too in a way that had your mouth hanging open dumbly. Nails scratching at his chest to a loose close.

You were just being wrecked. Drowned in praises with your insides clamping down around his thick shaft, the base giving your clit much needed attention with the steadily increasing succession of his dick’s mean pummeling up into you. 

And he had the nerve to slap another on the opposite cheek. “Bullseye~” in a sultry tone against your neck as he bit down on your collarbone, hooking his palms exactly where he’d slapped—two, now—stickers, using the hold to fuck himself mindlessly through your cunt. “Mhnn..s’fuckin’ tight…gold star every..time, fuuuck..” 

His voice would trail off, mouth coming back down to suckle on your tits again, laving his tongue all over your sensitive buds, even moaning with a good portion of the fatty flesh in his hot, wet maw. 

Giving you a rush of euphoria as you squeaked out the words, “Mhm, mhmm, jus’ like that, ‘Toru..” you’d breathlessly encourage, never stopping your own eager up and down as both of you selfishly chased your pleasure through the benefit of the other. “Shit, ‘m gonna cum..~” whining out as your face came down on his shoulder.

You could hear him groaning beside your head, his own leaning back as he raggedly, “Hnn..me too, me fuckin’ too..ughh..” already too lost in the feeling of your pussy crying down his cock and balls, dripping down his inner thighs easily as you started to clench and unclench around him faster.

“Gonna do it f’me, huuhh? Yeahh, yeah you are, my little star~” he rambled, his cock screwdriving your G-spot so precisely that you bit down on his shoulder, almost screaming into the skin there. “Hhh, f-fuck, gonna fill this cunt so fuckin’ good..God..”

And if Satoru was anything, he was honest. Selectively, albeit, but honest nonetheless. So when he whimpered against your skin in a pitch he only hit with you, or rather with your pussy, “Fuuck, mhnn, fucking…cummin’..” brows furrowed down to the hilts and the crown of his cock did the same thing inside you, seemingly nuzzling its way deeep in your guts.

Needless to say, you were right there with him, strangled moans tearing from your throat as your hips twisted and milked him for everything he had whilst he willingly dumped his load inside. Hot, velvety ropes of the stuff pouring down the sides of your inner walls as you both moaned through it, grinding each other straight into afterglow where Satoru reluctantly pulled out.

It was such a mess. Your cunt obscenely dripping with his handiwork. Using a thumb to slightly spread you out with the most perverse grin.

He took a second to adjust your positions, moving you from on his thighs to sort of bent over the couch arm, sated and trying to catch your breath. Meanwhile, he took the time to admire his little sticker job. Well, that and your utter exhaustion. “Pfft—did the stickers make you cum harder? It’s like praise within praise. Ah, I’m so clever.” coming from the man who was just whining your name over and over.

“Maybe they did..if I say yes, will you let me stack donuts on it?” now that made both of you cackle, even in your fucked-out and tired states.

He didn’t say no, though.

————

☆ ★ ☆

[ink-stainedkiss]

Husband Sukuna Ryomen Headcannons

Husband!Sukuna who is completely wrapped around your finger, but would never make it known. He has slaughtered thousands, is feared by his own village, and is a horror story to children. Yet, he enjoys resting his head in your lap and falls asleep peacefully as you play with his hair. As one would expect, Sukuna wouldn’t dare to show the soft side of himself, as it’s reserved for only his adoring wife.

Husband!Sukuna who feels off whenever you aren’t right next to him. No matter where, if you aren’t standing with him, he shifts uncomfortably and ends up calling for your presence. When Sukuna realized he had these unfamiliar feelings for you, it was decided that you could never get rid of him.

Husband!Sukuna who is too stubborn for his own good and can not for the life of him express his feelings. His bull-headed attitude always made disagreements turn into petty fights. You had learned that it’s better to give him space, rather than go back and forth.

Sukuna had done it again. He had killed off an innocent servant without a second thought. You couldn’t help but feel guilty that Sukuna didn’t face you with his merciless personality. There were only a selective few that the King of Curses didn’t wish death upon if they served no purpose. As you got word of why the poor servant was cut into pieces, you felt frustration build in you at the insignificant reason for her demise. You marched to your shared chamber, a deep furrow in your brow, and unsurprisingly, Sukuna was ever peaceful, reading a book on your bed.

“Is something wrong?” He hummed boredly, not looking up to meet your hardened gaze,”As a matter of fact, yes.” The king raised a curious brow, but shared no more interest,”What is the issue?” Standing unwaveringly, you plead your case,”You killed off a servant girl.” Sukuna nodded shortly,”I did. Is that all?”

Your jaw tightened,”You did it with no reason at all.” Sukuna gave you an indifferent look, clearly not seeing why you were upset,”She knocked over one of your vases, I had every right to kill her,” Your hands turned into fist,”No you didn’t. It was just painted clay, we could have gotten another one from the town’s potter.”

Sukuna set his book to the side, anger beginning to grow,”That was a gift. Are you telling me that you show no care toward my gracious offering?” You pinched the bridge of your nose,”No Sukuna. I loved the vase, it was beautiful,” You gave him a desperate look,”But that girl didn’t deserve to die over a simple mistake.” He looked you up and down, his tense expression unmoving.

“I detest your ability to forgive someone so easily.” You felt your hope run out at his heartless response. You exhaled softly, beginning to turn away. Sukuna noticed your change and he felt a sharp pang in his chest. Moving towards the door, you turned over your shoulder,” I apologize for wasting your time,”

Sukuna reached out and tried to call for you, but his chamber door was already shut. The king tossed his head back against the headboard and let out an audible groan.

Husband!Sukuna who replays your saddened voice over and over again and realizes he has to make it up to you. It was clear you were passionate about this topic and all Sukuna did was make it worse. So even if he’s completely terrible at voicing his apology, he understands that’s the only way to make you feel better.

Husband!Sukuna who seeks you out all throughout the estate, rushing past the workers and making them jump at his fervency. After searching for what seemed like forever, he goes to the last place in his mind. The gardens. This place was for Sukuna to rest in and for Sukuna only, that was until he found you. The two of you shared the sacred space often, just whenever you needed a moment of quiet. The garden was fenced off and only a certain few could enter the premises.

Husband!Sukuna who lets out a sigh of relief as he finds you sitting alone near a thin river.

Sukuna calmly walked over, sitting down next to you, and it was almost comical to see this beast of a man resting by your side. The silence between you two was agonizing, but you seem unbothered. The king carefully moved his head, revealing a pure white rose,”I plucked this for you. Its beauty reminds of you.”

Despite your anger, his words made your heart flutter, and you took it quietly. Your fingers fiddled with the delicate petals,”Thank you,” Sukuna wasn’t greatly pleased with your words. His mind ran laps around what he should say and eventually he spoke up,”I will try to be more…pitying.” Your head whipped around, facing your husband in shock,”Really? Would you do that?”

He let out a lenient sigh, giving you a short nod,”If it makes you happy, then I shall.” Sukuna knew you were giving him those pathetic eyes that made him feel all warm and gross, so he didn’t meet your gaze. Before he could continue, your body was leaping onto his, making the King fall onto the grass with a small groan.

His face was decorated in tiny kisses and you thanked him endlessly,”Oh, thank you Kuna. I’m forever in your debt.” Sukuna rolled his eyes, staring up at you as you halted your persistent kisses,”Don’t say such foolish things. You’re in no one’s debt and you never will be.” His words made your smile wider and once again he was smothered in your lips.

It seemed like merely a fable that the King of Curses was letting out belly laughs as his wife showed him so much affection.

Husband!Sukuna who tells himself that nothing, no living or dead creature shall take you away from him, and he would rain hell on the earth if they dared to try.

[puckinghischier]

Can we talk about how hard Luke would try to be helpful while you’re on your period? I just feel like all of his efforts would be so endearing

oh this is so perfect bc my body decided to give me its own christmas present yesterday 🤩

he would be so attentive, god love him. he’d even have his own tracker on his phone so he can be prepared and make sure he always has your favorites stocked when the time comes.

the second he starts seeing the signs, he’s making your coffee or tea, whichever you prefer, in the mornings and having it waiting on you with your favorite breakfast pastry. on your worst day he’s bringing it to you in bed, heated blanket on his arm.

if he has a day off from practice or gets back early from a morning skate, he’s assuming all housework duties. he’s making sure the kitchen is clean, bringing you your favorite comfort meal from your favorite restaurant, doing the laundry, tidying up the living room. he wants to make sure you don’t have to lift a finger.

he secretly loves when you’re having a rough cramp day, if he’s honest. not because he enjoys seeing you in pain, it’s the opposite really. it breaks his heart that you have to go through this every month, knowing there’s nothing he can do to take the pain away. but he loves how clingy you get, whining every time he gets up to leave the bed or the couch, even if it’s to get something you asked him to get.

he’s constantly calling and texting you to see how you’re feeling and asking if you need anything when he’s not with you. the guys in the locker room all make fun of him for it, but he could care less. it’s the least he can do. you’re constantly taking all of this on every other week of the month, doing all you can to make his life easier, wanting him to come home and be able to relax and focus on resting before or after games. so he’ll gladly take the responsibility on for this one week a month, to show you how much he appreciates you and loves you.

you become such a homebody when you’re on your period and luke eats it up. he loves nothing more than being lazy with you, and he gets at least an entire week of it each month. you refuse any offer of plans, not wanting to have to put on ‘real’ clothes, content with living in one of luke’s oversized shirts, period panties, and a loose pair of his boxers. and luke loves coming home to the sight more than he could ever express.

you love the effort he takes each month to make sure you’re comfortable and cared for. you don’t know how you did it, but you truly hit the jackpot with him. you hear him constantly on the phone with ellen, double checking which painkillers work best for cramps and what the best remedy for period induced headaches. you crawl into a freshly made bed every night, despite rotting on the couch all day. you get baths drawn for you with soothing smells and low light, like either joining you or sitting in the floor with you and telling you all about his day. you have a never ending supply of sweets and baked goods, thanks to his bakery runs every morning.

you always ask him how you can repay him, but he always tells you the same thing. “what you do for me every day is enough. being able to do this for you is repayment in itself. this is what i’m supposed to do. it’s my job to make sure you’re comfortable, taken care of, and loved.”

of course, the words always make your hormonal self emotional, tears falling every time at how much you love him and how lucky you are he loves you. but then he ruins the moment, adding in “plus, the post-period sex is always great, so that’s a good incentive, too.” you swat at him, telling him to shut up.

“i’m just kidding, sweetheart. i love doing this for you, seriously,” he’d back track, nuzzling his face into your neck to place small kisses there.

rolling your eyes, you respond with “you might like doing this for me, but you weren’t kidding, don’t lie.”

he gives you a “welll….” look, making you laugh, forgetting all about the ache in your lower abdomen.

[blackenedsnow]

Hi how are you doing could I request yandere perfect cell x female android reader who was made by Dr. brief and who the total opposite of cell

perfect obsession

WARNING: Yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, slight psychological manipulation

PAIRING: Yandere! Perfect Cell x (Fem) Android! Reader

NOTE: Hi! I'm doing great, thanks for asking! I hope you like this!

SUMMARY: Perfect Cell is used to being in control—of power, of his plans, of others. But when he encounters a female android created by Dr. Briefs, who is kind, gentle, and compassionate, the contrast between them fascinates him.

The lab was quiet, save for the gentle hum of machinery and the soft clicking of buttons as you worked. Dr. Briefs had designed you with care—an android meant to aid rather than destroy. Everything about you was different from the world-destroying creature Cell had become, and yet, you could feel his eyes on you, watching with unnerving intensity.

“Dr. Briefs’ newest creation,” a low, menacing voice echoed through the lab.

You froze, recognizing it immediately. Slowly, you turned to face the towering figure of Perfect Cell. He stepped forward, his piercing eyes locked on you, that trademark smirk creeping onto his face.

“I must say, you’re quite the interesting little project,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with something dark. “So… different from me. I can’t help but wonder, why would the good doctor create something so… soft?”

You blinked, keeping your composure despite the growing tension. “Dr. Briefs didn’t create me for destruction, Cell. I’m here to help. You and I—we’re not the same.”

Cell chuckled, the sound reverberating through the lab. “No, we’re not,” he agreed, his eyes narrowing as he took another step toward you. “And yet… there’s something about you. Something that draws me in. You see, I was made to be perfect, to dominate. And you…”

His hand reached out, brushing a lock of your hair from your face, and you stiffened under his touch. “You’re flawed in all the right ways,” he murmured. “But that only makes me want to keep you closer.”

You stepped back instinctively, your polite demeanor giving way to discomfort. “Cell, you’re not supposed to be here. I think you should leave.”

Cell’s smirk widened as if amused by your defiance. “You don’t understand, do you? I don’t need permission. I take what I want.” His voice was low, a dangerous edge creeping into it.

“And right now… what I want is you.”

Your heart raced, not in fear of physical harm, but of the intensity behind his words. There was something twisted in the way he looked at you, as though you were no longer just an android to him, but something more—a prize, an obsession.

“I don’t belong to anyone, Cell,” you said, trying to keep your voice firm despite the unease crawling up your spine.

“Oh, but you will,” he whispered, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You just don’t know it yet.”

You tried to move away, but his grip tightened, holding you in place. “We’re opposites, yes,” he continued, his eyes gleaming with something possessive. “But that only makes this more… interesting. You’re the only one who could ever hope to complete me, little android.”

His voice was dripping with conviction, and you realized with growing dread that Cell wasn’t just toying with you. He truly believed you belonged with him—or rather, to him.

“But don’t worry,” he said softly, leaning in just enough for you to feel the chill of his presence. “I’ll be patient. After all, I have all the time in the world to make you see things my way.”

You pulled away sharply, finally breaking free from his grasp. “I’m not like you, Cell. I never will be.”

Cell’s smirk didn’t falter. “We’ll see.”

As he turned to leave, the air around you felt colder, heavier. You knew this wasn’t over. Perfect Cell was patient, calculating, and worst of all, utterly convinced that you were his. And no matter how much you resisted, you could feel the weight of his obsession closing in around you.

[qoldenskies]

more people should indulge in the idea of donnie enjoying baking like. cooking is an art form because you can play around with it and add all types of things to make the flavor work. but baking? that's a science, baby. and ive seen the kind of funny squabbling cooks and bakers have about how different it is and i think itd be funny if donnie and mikey were weirdly petty about it

[cococharm]

Just found your blog I’m so excited! Finally someone that writes for dpr!!!! Can I request something with dpr Ian. Whatever you want really maybe something cozy and cute ? -love Vivi

Shaping Love

Pairing: boyfriend!DPR Ian x reader Genre: fluff, romance, slice of life Warnings: established relationship Characters: 3320 Summary: After a long day, Christian and Y/n decide to go on a pottery date. AN: Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you enjoy reading this. It’s my first time writing so I hope it meets your standards as I'm not confident in writing. (I rewrote this 4 times)

I glanced at Christian as we ventured into the pottery studio, excitement bubbling in my chest. The fragrance of clay and the peaceful murmur of the wheel occupied the room.

The instructor welcomed us with a warm smile, directing us to our stations. Christian looked around with childlike wonder, his eyes lighting up as he took in the tools and materials. I couldn't help but smile at his energy, feeling a surge of love for him.

We settled in front of our wheels after donning our aprons. The instructor gave us a brief demonstration, her hands moving skillfully to shape the clay. I watched, captivated by the transformation from a lump of clay to a lovely, delicate pot.

“Ready to give it a try?’’ Christian asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

I nodded, putting my hands on the wet clay. As the wheel began turning, Christian sat close to me, his hands cautiously working on his piece. We exchanged glances and laughed silently.

From the get-go, my attempts were awkward, the clay wobbled and collapsed under my touch. Christian chuckled next to me, his laugh a comforting sound. He was also struggling, his pot looking more like a bowl than a pot, but he was having fun and that's all that mattered.

He came closer and said, “Let me help you.” his hands covered mine, guiding my movement. Together, we coaxed the clay into a steadier structure, our hands working in a state of harmony.

The feeling of his hands over mine, strong yet gentle, sent a thrill through me. We were shaping the clay, and as it were, molding a piece of our relationship. The wheel spun smoothly, and the clay began to respond to our touch, rising and forming a simple but elegant shape.

“You're a natural,” Christian teased, his breath warm against my cheek.

“Only because you're helping me,” I replied, leaning into him.

As the instructor strolled by, she gestured approvingly at our progress. “You two make a great team,” She remarked.

Christian grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We do, don't we?”

We worked on our pieces for a while longer, lost in the rhythmic motion and the tactile pleasure of the clay under our hands. Eventually, we both had something resembling pots, albeit a bit wobbly and imperfect.

“Not bad for our first try,” Christian said, inspecting his creation with a critical eye.

“I think they’re perfect,” I said softly, admiring the unique quirks of our pieces. “Very much like us.”

Christian gave me a tender look as he turned to face me. “I liked that. Imperfectly perfect.”

We carefully placed our pots on the drying racks, our hands canvassed in clay but our hearts full of warmth. The instructor offered to fire them for us, and we thanked her, already looking forward to seeing the finished products.

As we cleaned up, Christian reached out and took my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m grateful that you’ve agreed to join me today,” he said, his voice earnest. “This was… special.”

I squeezed his hand, having a flood of affection toward this man who always found new ways to make our time meaningful. “It was perfect. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The evening sun cast a golden glow on the streets as we left the studio hand in hand. The memory of our pottery date would be another cherished moment in the gallery of our love, a testament to our beauty of creating and growing together.

[reddamselette]

valgrace except it’s after a quest. leo returned with annabeth and clarisse, strength and wisdom, wisdom and fire, they were the perfect candidates. they celebrated as always with laurel wreaths and bonfires with stories and games but leo was growing paler by the second. his head pounded with a killer migraine, he was sick to his stomach, he couldn’t think clearly.

the few who noticed asked if he was alright and he nodded, said “yeah! i’m fine, don’t worry” and moved on. but his movements were sluggish, he kept dissociating, his vision blurred and refocused, he felt hot like the fire surging through his body was trying to burst.

it wasn’t until piper and jason came by to talk to him, to see him and check on him that leo excused himself with a slurred apology before the world went black and he collapsed. jason caught him, his heart beating in a wild, sporadic rhythm as he carried leo to the infirmary with piper.

the son of jupiter was worried, piper stayed at their side with teary eyes because leo looked terrible. neither of them left or slept, sporting dark circles and napped for ten minutes or so, waking up in a cycle to make sure leo was breathing.

but they were relieved when leo woke up. hugged him tightly only to apologized when will told them to be careful, he needed rest and recovery. yet they couldn’t have foretold leo wouldn’t remember who they were. thinking it was a joke he wanted to play, they laughed it off but leo was serious. in his eyes, jason and piper were strangers. and leo couldn’t understand why jason appeared so heartbroken, why piper held jason’s hand in comfort.

[taijuslegalwife]

Reader who's a baker and they made cookies with taiju's face on it frfr

Taiju Shiba x baker! Wife!reader

omggg this was the cutest thing to write for!! Thank you for requesting this 💖

warnings: established relationship, they are married, female reader, usage of female pronouns, tooth rotting fluff

(Y/n) got up extra early, specifically before Taiju, to give him a little birthday surprise. The night earlier she had been scrolling on the phone her beloved husband had bought her when she came across another baking video but this one was special; the video was of a woman baking some cookies for her boyfriend as his birthday surprise but instead of normal frosting the woman had drawn her partners face onto the cookies using some frosting. Albeit, they came out looking a bit ragged but that’s expected when someone unlike you, an ameture at baking, attempts something like this. Instantly the idea stuck to (y/n) as she thought to herself how Taiju might like something so personal yet simple done for his special day. 

This very same idea is the same thing that led her to set her alarm a whole three hours ahead of his, being extra sneaky at getting out of bed, and walking on the tips of her toes over to the kitchen in order to make said cookies. Being a professional baker herself, (Y/n) knew her way around making sweet treats and a kitchen. Reaching her gentle arms up into the kitchen cabinet to grab some flour, sugar, baking soda, and baking powder. She carefully walked over to the nearby counter, placing the dry ingredients nice and orderly near the large bowl she previously prepared last night.

Making sure to stay extra quiet, (y/n) began to preheat the oven to the necessary temperature needed before she turned around, beginning to quietly stir the flour, baking soda, and baking powder together in the said bowl laid out. She skillfully beat the  sugar and butter together in the bowl along with the dry ingredients before whipping out her electric mixer until the batter was smoother than her beloved husband's pale skin. She mixed the dough as quietly as humanly possible in order to not wake her sleepy husband before she stopped mixing the ready-batter. She laid out a medium-sized metal baking sheet, rolling the dough into walnut-sized balls and placed 2 inches apart onto the ungreased baking sheets.

(Y/n) carefully and gently placed the baking sheet into the hot enough oven before setting the oven timer; sneaking back over into her and Taiju’s shared bedroom, crawling back in bed to snuggle into the large burly arms spread deliciously onto their large bed. 

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

The loud obnoxious beeping of the oven timer had woken (Y/n) up from her light Power Nap, setting her in a rushed state of slight panic. She whipped her head around to check if her husband had slept through the beeping before jumping out of bed and running into the kitchen to shut the oven off. Once she effortlessly lifted the burning hot cooking sheet out of the oven with her beautiful golden cookies sitting perfectly on top. Setting the piping hot baking sheet down onto the rich white-marble counters, she then broke out her pre-used blue, yellow, black, and white frosting so she could hopefully draw Taiju’s face onto the cookies accurately. 

With the concentration power of a samurai in-battle, she gripped the icing bags to perfectly draw her husband's handsome face onto the fresh sugar cookies, some coming out less than satisfactory but all delicious! Before she knew it her small batch of ten cookies, all with Taiju’s poorly-drawn looking face plastered on them all. With a satisfactory sigh (Y/n) had stepped back, wanting to see her yummy birthday treats all at once, only to be very disappointed at how mediocre she managed to mess up Taiju’s face on the cookies. 

Due to the slightly drippy frosting, his face turned more into a blob of colors rather than just him. (Y/n) felt very, very upset at how poorly his face had turned out but she didn’t let that deter her from making her husband the happiest man ever on his birthday. After all, every great professional has made some less than satisfactory works but that never stopped them! She stifled a laugh behind her now frosting covered hands as she continued to stare at her failed attempt at his face.

She felt content with her amazing, and delightful golden sugar cookies, so she happily skipped over to where her husband laid peacefully still in his unbothered slumber where she stood over him, waking him with many warm loving kisses to his face to wake the man up. Taiju’s eyes fluttered open upon the feeling of his wife's soft lips on his skin, turning over to stare at her in confusion but with a lazy smile on his face. “What’s that fo’?” Taiju sleepily slurred out as he rolled his head over to face his lovely wife. She carefully positioned him upwards to that Taiju was now sitting up in the bed before taking his hand to lead him towards her creation. 

By now, Taiju has had a chance to wake himself up more and to be more aware. His face contorted in utter confusion before asking what had been on his mind for the past few minutes, “Where are ya leadin’ me, doll?” Taiju playfully asked in his usual deep manly voice; (Y/n) just looked back at him with a devious smile on her face before walking into the kitchen happily shouting ‘Happy Birthday!’ As soon as Taiju walked in immediately after her. While she announced his surprise she grabbed hold of the now cool baking sheet with the Taiju cookies in hand, nudging them towards him like a cat showing its owner the new prey it’s captured in hopes for praise. 

Taiju took a moment to study the cookies in front of him before noticing the similar features him and the cookies had. Realizing these cookies had his face on them, he broke out into a gleeful spout of laughter as he grabbed the metal sheet out of his petite wife’s hands, carefully placing it onto the counter behind her, and wrapping his large beefy arms around her in a warm loving embrace. His bellowing but light-hearted laughs seized before snuggling into his wife’s hair, whispering praises and thanks. “You're the best, (Y/n).” He warmly complimented before reaching around her with one arm and sneaking one cookie for breakfast.

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

╰┈➤ taglist: @fullmoonblood6 @petuniasmd @tr-mha-fan @dolledupformanjiro @eatingcak33s

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 2

the girlies asked so I deliver!

read part one here, or check out my masterlist!

summary: after the accidental cafe run in, harry and y/n have wound up with each others numbers. and are quick to go from casual texting to organising another time to meet up. including a cafe trip and an unexpected ice creamery visit.

warnings: fluff, swearing, minor mentions of alcohol, nothing too heavy, just our lovely italyrry who is the sweetest ever.

a/n: thank you all so so much for the incredible amount of support on the first part of this official series. and also for your patience in waiting for me to hurry up and post an update. i know it’s been like 2 weeks since the first part, but I really wanted to give you something i took my time working on <3

———

There’s a certain type of disbelief that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s the kind that you feel straight to your core. That randomly dumps on you during the day like a bucket of water, and leaves your head spinning like that very bucket came crashing down with it.

It happens in a single moment, but lingers for a long time after the fact.

That’s exactly how you felt after harry texted you first. Because not even a few hours later after you’d exchanged numbers, he sent you through, not only a message, but a photo of all things.

One that made your heart swell with its endearing qualities.

A photo of a plate, filled with the food you’d told him earlier that day was one of your favourites.

Sent with a further little message below it,

Your favourite is currently up for grabs at the family gathering. H

The way he’d signed his intial off at the bottom had you nearly throw your phone across the room at how adorable it was.

Like as if you didn’t even know who you were texting.

Again it strewn your thought— is he aware the kind of mental effect this is having on you? Because you’re borderline going to need to phone for an ambulance.

You’re a simple person. A fangirl, to say the least. This shit, despite being able to say ‘I’ve met and talked with Harry Styles for more than 10 minutes’ does not just disappear.

And you had promised yourself not to tell anyone that this had happened— or was happening? Because there would be nothing worse than this somehow ending up online.

And not to treat him like a flighty deer instead of a grown man, but you would hate for that to place a kind of distrust in his hands.

However, all of that self-agreement doesn’t take away the nagging voice in your head that just wants to tell at the very least your immediate friends and family.

But you’re proud to say— after a long 2 minutes of pacing around your hotel room— you manage to craft a reply back.

Well, only after a few rough and undeniably embarrassing drafts that quickly get deleted out of the text bar.

You’re back to sitting on the floor against the bed frame, facing the window looking out on the gorgeous colours of the evening Italian sky.

Heart pounding, and you’re sure this scene from a third person perspective would look like it was pulled from a hallmark movie.

Girl fawning over man’s simple text. Kicking her feet in the glow of Italian sun, with a glass of wine on the floor next to her.

You stared at your finalised message and decided if you didn’t send it now, you would spiral into a never ending pit of doubt. And just end up overthinking the whole thing.

So you just did it. And now on the screen, under his blue message, was your own grey one.

there’s no way. it looks so good! im gonna see if it’s on my room service menu tbh. consider me inspired.

You bit your knuckles. Acting up like a fucking teenager. Waiting for the shock to subside before you actually get up to find the hotel menu.

After you replied back, you were sweating, honestly. Anxious at the fact you had just sent a text to Harry Styles. And unlike a conversation, that shit is permanent. So too bad if it comes off embarrassing.

Which of course, it didn’t on his end. Unbeknownst to you, he almost physically gleamed at sight of your name on his screen for the first time.

You’d nearly dropped your glass of wine when your phone vibrated up on the counter of the hotels kitchen where it was charging.

It’d been about half an hour from when you replied, you’d since ordered room service and sat in your bed to watch tv.

You made sure to place your glass elsewhere as you ran over to grab your phone.

If it wasn’t already all gone I’d save you some. Any luck with the room service?

You’d replied back swiftly, disregarding any kind of waiting to text back rule. You were all too eager to wait.

i managed to score some up from the room service. didn’t look as appetising as yours, but it was still enjoyed. x

And at this, he smiled, looking at the Italian sunset as he thought of you with a curiosity he recognised as all too unhealthy.

———

If you had told yourself two days ago in that cafe, that you have had several full conversations with harry after getting his number… you probably would have laughed.

Yet its not a joke of any kind. You can pinch yourself over and over again looking at those texts, but all you’ll end up with is a bruise and they will be just as real.

But as you read over the most recently received one, pinching would have not been enough of a reality check.

Maybe a frying pan? Probably would do the trick.

You scanned over his words, rubbing your eyes like you were tired and seeing shit— even though you’d been awake since 9am, which was 2 hours ago.

Unless you have plans, I’m going to try this cafe a friend recommended me a while back, if you wanted to tag along?

[ 1 attachment link]

And there’s simply no way that this is happening? But after 30 seconds without a follow up text telling you he’s accidentally sent this to the wrong person, you sit up straight.

Well, you’re not about to ask him if he’s serious right now, so you channel every fibre of casualness left within you and use it to construct a response.

id love to! I’ll get ready to go soon if you want to meet there before 12:30?

That works perfectly. did you need a lift, or are you in walking distance. I can pick you up if you need.

You almost keel over at his offer, and the absolute gentleman move he just made.

You also realise you didn’t even look where the cafe was. Because if Harry Styles asks you to go somewhere with him the answer should always be yes. Figure out the means of getting there and back later.

Either way you open the link and get taken to google maps, and the cafe in question is literally a 10 minute walk away from you.

im in walking distance, it’s about 10 minutes away. so I’ll just make my way there at about 12:15! thank you for the lovely offer though.

And you move as quickly as possible from your bed to your suitcase, ready to tear that thing apart for an outfit.

You don’t want to be over the top, but you have to go with something on the shorter side because it’s already in the high 20’s and it’s not even afternoon yet. So you lug out the many summer dresses you crammed in there, hoping that one of them will strike your interest.

Some get tossed back into your bag as you filter through them, not making the cut for a variety of reasons— like showing too much of your cleavage.

Yea, a good few of them get ruled out for that reason.

But eventually— and thank god, because you were starting to loose hope— you find one that is perfect for the occasion. It’s all types of flowy and comfortable, but still maintains the pretty connotation that summer dresses are known for.

Before putting it on, you go into the bathroom and do your morning routine— fixing your hair as a final step, but deciding to leave it out since there is hardly any wind outside to make it a mess. Plus it will suit the dress.

You somehow managed to take long enough that the next time you look at your phone you realise it’s nearing 12:15pm a lot faster than you expected. So you hustle to get the rest of your shit together, and make your way out the door.

The walk there is as peaceful as you could imagine, just the sounds of chatter from passer-by’s and birds lingering in trees dotting the sidewalk.

But on the inside you are still panicking. The last time you’d meet him in a cafe was a total surprise. This time it’s planned, and that leaves too much room for your brain to overthink it.

As you finally push through the doors of the cafe you had found your way to, a tiny bell above jingles. But you’re hardly focused on it as you look to the front counter.

Seeing the exact person you were here for already grabbing two drinks from a barista at what you can only assume is a pickup counter.

As he spins around, he catches your momentary surprise, complimented by flushed cheeks. To this he smiles and nods you over with his head.

He looked excited to see you. Like a longtime pair of friends meeting up again after a while apart.

Your feet kick back into gear at his nod, following him over to a table that’s tucked into the corner. He had his pleasing bag slung across the top of the chair.

“Hi lovely,” he says the minute you’re close enough to hear his deep voice.

“Hi Harry.” You smile, heart still beating too fast. The words feeling different as they get spoken from your mouth.

He walks the few steps around the table, closing the gap still between you— and he doesn’t wait for you to hug him, he just pulls you straight into the warmth of his arms.

Wrapping you up in a way that you can smell the cologne lingering on the dip of his neck into his shoulder.

His accent is muffled by your hair as he talks gently, “how’ve you been?”

The common question has your head reeling. In its simplicity is still sweetness.

You pull back, his eyes training on yours, looking keenly at you, awaiting an answer from your almost shy lips.

“I— yes, I’ve been really good thank you.” You nod, how could you not be? Look where your standing, who you’re standing with.

“What about you…?” You ask, watching as the corners of his pink mouth upturn.

He’s freshly shaven, you notice, and your fingers twitch with the need to glide over the smooth skin of his cheek.

You resist as he answers, still relatively closer than you should be out in a public place.

“I’m doing well, even better now.” He raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin coming on his face.

He revels in blood that rushes into your cheeks, reddening them up like you’ve just run a mile.

“Oh, stop it. You’re a bloody flirt.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to play it off, and you also take a step back to seat yourself in the chair at the table he’d picked.

Maybe he was a flirt at most times. But from his perspective, with you in a dress like that? Not to sound like he’s drawing on the one direction lyrics, but as if you don’t know you’re beautiful.

I mean, sure, he thinks you’re aware that you’re pretty. But in the way it’s working him up, you seem to be clueless.

Because he’s almost stumbling on his words at the sight of you, soft fabric flowing seamlessly over your tan skin, cutting off above your knees leaving him with thoughts that he should not be having in a public space.

But at the same time, he tries to convince himself it’s nothing but a wholesome coincidental friendship. Even though if at any point tabloids get a hold of this, it will be very very far from that.

You’re watching as he looks a little caught up in thought, and you chuckle at it.

The sweet noise breaks him out of it, and he’s grateful for that. It was a rabbit hole he was happy to just not go down right now.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, going over to his own seat.

“Now, i need the full story of what happened with your friends luggage at the Singapore airport?”

You let out a laugh, a little surprised he even remembers to bring it up. You had been texting about travel, and told him the time your friend had her luggage lost in a layover between Singapore and London last month.

“I mean, where did it leave it off?” You had explained a partial amount of the story. But told him, if you’d planned another cafe trip it would be a lot easier to explain the ins and outs.

And he was overly excited to watch you tell the tale. Watch the way your hands moved as you animatedly told the story, and the way your eyes get a little lost in thought.

He caught tiny glimpses of it the first time you’d met, but he craved to watch it happen in full. Among other things.

You told him how you’d had 12 hour layover, but that you guys didn’t want to book a hotel since they were so expensive. But you were still meant to collect your luggage— and everyone else but your friend Bonnie got it back.

“She’s Scottish, crazy red hair and she is like a fire cracker. She was actually at the last show, in the front with us, but anyway— so she’s running around Singapore airport accosting all the staff with her stressed out and angry Scottish accent.”

You went back and forth with the many fuck arounds of that day, how you went from halfway across the airport to a misplaced baggage unit per a staffs advice, only for the lady at the front desk to say it wasn’t there— and to go back to the support centre.

“It was not funny at the time,” you said, “but fuck, looking back now it’s pretty good. And it makes a fun story to tell.”

“So where did she actually get her stuff back?” He asks, frowning with a curious smile.

“Oh, like 6 hours after we originally got off the plan. They’d told us to wait up at that little customer support place and after like another hour and a half, some really frazzled guy came running up with it.”

And you laughed at the image in your head, sweaty and looked terrified he’d gotten the wrong bag, “We asked where it had gotten lost, but he just asked if it was certainly ours, then when we said yes he nodded and practically ran the other way.”

Harry was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

“God, is that quite a story.”

“See why I said texting it would have been way too hard.” You amend, reaching for the deserted cup of tea you hadn’t even drank out of yet, taking a sip.

Exactly how you like it, and you smile. Watching him watch you drink it.

“Just how you like it, yea?” He asks to confirm. But also lost a little in the way the liquid seamlessly travels from the cup down your throat.

“Yea, perfect.” You nod, clutching the warm cup between your hands, tongue swiping out over your lips.

“Anyways, what about your own crazy travel stories. Since you’ve done plenty of it.” You prompt, unaware of his remaining gaze.

The afternoon went of just like that. Telling stories and sharing funny little anecdotes that had you laughing so hard that tears were about to spill from your waterline.

You slowly forget that it’s Harry Styles you’re sitting with. And of course that sounds weird. But it’s like there came a certain point in the afternoon where he just became simply Harry.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It had been a rather long time you sat in that same cafe with him. So much that the chairs, originally very comfortable, had started to become the opposite as time flew on.

“Are these chairs starting to hurt your ass too?” He asks, humour lacing his tone as he watches you adjust yourself in the chair for the third time in the last 10 minutes.

“Yea, the metal seats are lowkey not it.” At this he laughs, the way you word things somehow being more entertaining than most.

“Well, cmon, I already paid, we can go for a walk if you want?” He rises from his place, and you’ve never stood up quicker.

“Braving the Italian sun at its very brightest are we?” You joke, smiling as he grabs his bag and slings it over one of his broad shoulders.

“Could be a big regret, could also be very scenic.” He says as you grab both your empty cups.

“I forgot to put sunscreen on as well, so might have a different colour forehead to the rest of my body but… oh well.” he shurgs, following you over to the small bin by the cafe door.

You’re immediately thinking of the time he went to a show after going out golfing and he had a sunburnt head.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” And it takes you by surprise that the teasing words made it out of your mouth.

Yet, he seems happily indifferent to it, like it’s of course something you’d know, “Whatever you.”

Your laughing at his response as you hold the door open for him, exiting the cafe into the heat.

A tortured sigh is let out of you both at the swelter of it. The concrete pavement doing nothing but intensify it.

“I underestimate the weather every day here, I’m wearing too many layers of clothing to be dealing with this.”

“Take your hoodie off you dolt.”

He usually keeps layers on so that his tattoos are less visible. Since they’re often a dead giveaway of who he is. So his hands hesitates as they slip to the hem of his jumper.

“Don’t tell me you went out with just a jumper on, no other layers. In Italy?” You shake your head, still smiling as you slowly walk into the shaded part of the sidewalk.

“No— I did.” He laughs, “just m’tattoos usually garner some attention.”

He clarifies, “that sounded really egotistical, not the tattoos themselves, I meant people recognise me easier when they’re out.”

“Oh!” You stumble a little in your thought process. Feeling a little silly for not realising.

“I kind of like… forgot?” You say, coming to a stop as he eventually succumbs to the heat and peels the jumper over his head. Folding it up and popping it into his bag, glancing at you with a tiny breathe of relief at his new found ventilation. Hands moving to tousle with his hair in attempt to flatten it after pulling the jumper over it.

“I mean, i did. too honestly.” He agrees, continuing to walk forward.

You read into that a million different ways. But he makes sure you don’t get confused, “Y/N, don’t look so worried. I just mean you’re a very easy person to get… i dunno, lost in.”

Oh okay? How does one just casually continue putting one foot in front of the other after someone says something like that?

“You flatter me too much.” You roll your eyes, still as awful as ever at masking your shock or adoration for something someone’s said.

“Cmon, you’re just too humble i think.” He bumps you with his shoulder.

You’re laughing at him. But stop dead in your tracks as you stop something across the road.

“H.” You say, and he also comes to a halt. Taking a moment to process your use of his nickname. Like the way it so gently came from you.

Yet you sound almost dire, so he’s looking over where you are, scanning the sunny street for something that could possibly concern you?

For a moment he thinks it may be paparazzi, but this side of town is usually much better in regards to that.

He feels protective of you, “What? Are you okay?”

“There’s ice cream over there.” You say, hand coming up to cover your mouth a little.

A breath of relief fills his lungs, “i— you made it out like this was a life or death situation about t’unfold.”

Your expression turns to a grin, “no, i just love Italian ice creameries!”

“Can we please go and get some?” You glance back to him, and his own smile widens at your face. Gleaming with this unfiltered excitement over something so simplistic.

“Of course we can.” And you’re immediately grabbing his wrist to tug him across the road towards the shop.

“As if I could say no to you, anyway.” He laughs as he keeps up with your quick pace, clearly on a mission.

Once inside the store, with its pink and mint coloured walls and decor, you move to look at the collection of flavours.

The staples such as vanilla and strawberry, but then a small selection of more slightly diverse ones, like peanut butter brownie or salted caramel.

Their cookie dough ice cream looks amazing though, filled with chocolatey chunks of cookie. So you decide relatively fast that’s what you want.

And then you turn to Harry, whose eyes are still darting between flavours indecisively.

“What one do you want?” You ask, and he adverts his eyes to you.

“No I’ll order.” He shakes his head.

“No-no. Let me get this for you, please.” He goes to protest and you nudge him with your elbow, “don’t be stubborn. I want to get you something.”

“I— fine. But know you’re just as pushy as i am.” He scoffs with a laugh.

“I’ll get… maybe chocolate?” He points to it, and you nod.

The older lady at the counter is overly lovely, and you’re rattling off your order to her with a beaming smile.

Harry watches your interaction with her, and how you take a moment to compliment the heart covered apron she was wearing.

His heart trips over it’s own rhythm at the sight.

You pays and he still feels a little guilty, but figures he can make it up to you next time they go out by getting you a cookie or two with your tea.

You come back to his side with the two cones, stacked two scoops tall, and hand one to him.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to though.”

“It’s fine, Harry. Do you wanna find somewhere outside to sit?” You ask, turning to wave at the lady who served you as your slowly exiting the shop.

“Sure, i saw that little bench under a tree a couple shops down near that park.” He nods, taking his turn to lead the way there.

You shortly find the way there, sitting yourselves down on it, looking out onto a small playground with some kids swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide.

“Italian ice cream will forever be the best kind of ice cream.” You sigh out with pleasure, licking over the cool scoop.

He unwittingly is blushing at the sight, suddenly batting away mental images at the sight of your pink tongue jutting out of your mouth.

Shaking his head, he pushes them aside. “Definitely. You can tell it’s handmade.”

He busies his own tongue on his own ice cream, only stealing occasional glances to you at his side.

But he can’t help but tilt his cone to you, “Wanna try the chocolate?”

His offer comes as the equivalent of a brick to the head, but you’re invested in making yourself not seem psychotic.

So you nod nonchalantly, “i will, but I have a feeling that’s just because you want some of mine.”

“Mm, maybe I do a little.” He agrees, but any other coherent thought dies where it was in his head at you leaning over to his own cone. Your tongue running over the ice cream, collecting up its sweet residue.

You nod, “That’s so good.” Acting like you’ve got a normal internal monologue right now. Even though she’s hurling things at you that you can’t all process in such a short flash of time.

You just put your mouth where his has been! He is about to do the same thing! His eyes look a little blown out! What the fuck!

Pretty much what it sounds like up there, along with some alarm bells and screaming.

However you just gesture your cone to him, taking mental images of him mirroring what you did just before.

He hums a sound of enjoyment as he pulls back, glancing up at you, pinning you with his green gaze. “Good choice.”

You agree with a slight mumble, shaking your head momentarily to clear your thoughts. Ready to change the subject so you can internally recollect yourself.

“I only regret sitting out here since it’s melting so fucking fast.”

“I know,” he also settles quickly back into the normality of the moment, “i cant eat it quicker than the rate it’s melting.”

“It’s cold though, which is at least a win.”

Conversation trails on as normal while you finish off the ice cream. Discussing if biting the bottom off an ice cream cone is normal or not.

And before you know it you check your phone when you get a text from your mum, asking what time you’re able to call tonight.

She misses you heaps, you can tell. But despite the timezone difference you are making it work.

You also glance up at the time and realise it’s nearing 4pm. And you have just spent majority of the afternoon with Harry.

You also realise you’d agreed to have dinner with all of your friends in one of their hotel rooms tonight.

“Seems like it’s my turn to have to be the one to bail.” You say, popping your phone in your back pocket and looking back at Harry.

“That’s okay, love, what’s the plans for the evening.”

You explain that you’ll go over the the girls hotel room and probably just eat pizza, and then go back to your own room and call your mum for a bit.

He feels a little sad you even have to leave, which is odd, but he nods anyway, “That sounds fun. Solid plan.”

You reluctantly rise from your seat next to him. “So…” you take a tiny breath in, “am I the one picking the next cafe we go to?”

He beams internally at the fact you’re also trying to plan the next time you’re able to meet up with each other.

“I reckon so, Angel.” He stands as well, “I’m good for any day.”

Any plans he has can be rearranged for you.

“Alright!” You feel better immediately knowing you can see him again soon.

“Thanks for the ice cream too, by the way.” He says, walking back over to the pathway with you.

“It’s okay.” You smile, nervously being the one to give him a goodbye hug. A small flutter erupts in your stomach as his hands pull you flush to him around your lower back.

“I’ll see you soon, mkay?”

“Yea. Ill talk to you later.” You remind yourself that he’s easily accessible to talk to. You literally have his number.

“Bye H.” You give him a squeeze, pulling away with a smile, “Bye Y/N.” And you wave as you start the walk back to your hotel. Plenty of things to think about.

———

“Did you guys see the supposed pics of harry today on harryflorals? He was hanging out with someone apparently!” Nina asks everyone.

Only two of you hadn’t, including yourself.

She passes the phone first to you, and you frown.

“I know, looks like it’s taken on a potato.” She says, assuming your furrowed brows are due to the fact the image is really hard to get anything from.

Unless you know that park bench he’s ‘allegedly’ sitting on. And that the blurry figure next to him is almost certainly you— but no one else can tell.

“Yea… shit that is…” You pause, brain freezing a little, “bad quality.”

You hand her phone back. But caption of the post still festering in your head long after the moment is over.

HARRY *SUPPOSEDLY* WITH A GIRL IN ITALY TODAY! but this is the only pic we got 💔

———

ahh and that’s part two! I hope you guys are enjoying this, and I’m so excited to write more about these two. cant wait for you to see what’s in store for them.

thank you again for your patience while waiting for this second part, and to all the lovely people who requested this oneshot to be made into something more.

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @lquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[lvrgirl-inc]

Breakfast

&

୨ৎ Head ୨ৎ

pair. Gamer Husband!Satoru x m!reader

wc. 2.6k

genres. House husband, comfort(?), eating “motivation”, edging, whiny reader + Toru, “thank you for the meal” backshots, domestic, soft—mostly, finale. [I suggest a slight content warning given the eating discussion, though it’s not dark, I did want to give the disclaimer..!]

Gamer Husband!Satoru mlist

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s missed breakfast more times than you can count. Constantly with the, “I’ll make some cereal later”, “It’s not that late yet—in a bit, babe.” that would earn a lecture of varying lengths from you each time.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you’d actually had to sit down and talk to about this bad habit of skipping meals. Hand over his in a sit-down at the dinner table after you’d gotten home from work late one evening. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who was simply over the moon for your return—treating every “Honey, I’m home” as if you’d just come back from war. Only to find out that he was, in fact, not getting that oh-so syrupy love talk that you shower him….but another lecture on his worrying eating habits.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who—if he had ears and tail—almost looked like a kicked puppy when you’d expressed your concerns. A gentle, “I know you tend to…forget. But, my love, the gas station is not a valuable source of nutrients.” Damn. Following that, he might as well have whined

Gamer Husband!Satoru who just might’ve if it weren’t for the security of your fingers giving his hand a gentle squeeze. The look of endearment he gave you wasn’t even voluntary but instinctual for whenever he caught you sticking up for him—even if it was often against his own uprooting of his complete success.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who looks at you through those snowy lashes, batting them twice, thrice in your direction before officially meeting your firm gaze. He knows you’re serious about this and that only spurs on a stronger protrusion of his bottom lip. A mumbled, “You..usually do all the cooking. I don’t really…like eating without you,” and you knew it was true. “Makes the food taste bland, every chew seems to take forever and on because all I can think about is…how you’re not there.”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you think might have heard the way your heart skipped a beat at those honest words. Sure, you two were only talking about eating properly and not stocking up on too many empty calories, but with how he phrased it—the tender on his slight lilt as he peered in a bit closer to you—it felt like..everything.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who took his hand up from both of yours, brushing back the tresses to settle behind your ear, letting his fingers linger there before sliding them along the crest of your jaw. A dreamy breath resting on his lips as he tried his best not to just stare at you for God knows how long. It was something he did often—just observing you in complete silence. Oh, you’re inquiring the reason? 

Because your presence was loud enough to him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who has you flush-faced and swallowing down nervously amid a reluctant, faint smile. “.. ‘Toru…you’re not focused…” you rationalized, even as your eyes were unable to keep off his. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who gives you the doofiest quirk of his mouth corner, smiling at the obvious effect he was already having on you. “Me? Not focused? Come onnn, that doesn’t even sound like me…” he’d purr, leaning in to steal a kiss, only for his lips to make contact with the palm of your hand instead. Did he really think he was getting off that easy?

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you’d had to eventually have another, deeper conversation about the matter—or went over negations more like—winding up with the following arrangement: If he could manage to fill in the rest of the meals for himself, you’d make a point to share at least one with him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru whose idea of compromise concluded with a morning that you’d never soon forget—nor really wanted to. Sunlight dashing the bed as you lazily and groggily woke up beside your husband for once, having convinced him to sleep in with you since he typically ran off..what? Four hours? Yeah. 

  Gamer Husband!Satoru whose fluffy platinum white ruffles were always fun to scan your fingers through in such peaceful scenery. Eventually, you got up, letting your deep sleeping beauty catch an hour or two. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who didn’t stir even as you climbed out of bed, stretching your limbs and yawning quietly before rubbing tired eyes on the way to the bathroom. From there, doing the basic cleaning routine, you made your way to the kitchen. It wouldn’t be too bad to have your first day of the deal be breakfast. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you eventually decided would benefit from it anyhow and then went on to unpack varying ingredients out of the fridge to prep a perfect meal to start off the day. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who always goes for sweets. Call it fast metabolism, workout routine or what—that man could eat. So, you, as his all-knowing spouse went ahead to make him a guilty pleasure of puffy pancakes, sidelined by a tropical fruit assortment, diced nicely. Humming sleepily and waking up as you went, you prepared that, along with a small smoothie from whatever didn’t make it into the mix.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you, after a while, assumed would be up since it’d been a tad since you started the cooking process. Easily assembling the plate that you two were inevitably going to share and deftly cleaning up behind yourself as quietly as possible just to be sure that you wouldn’t wake him if he was still asleep.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who actually had just been joining consciousness when you walked in, feeling around the empty space beside him before seeing your face and caught the aroma wafting off the tray. “You..spoil me too much..” a half-awake Satoru mumbled in that slight snag that came with his morning voice.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who definitely didn’t expect this when you’d replied to that with, “Let me spoil you some more, then.” This, referring to being leaned up on the headboard, shakily holding his fork up to his mouth, sliding the plump, syrup-coated batter off the metal with his teeth. All the while with you just underneath the sheets with a mouth stuffed full of him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who can feel how your lips stretch around his shaft, working hard to keep up the pace that was making that delicious, wet, slurping along his throbbing shaft. Making breathy moans fall from his lips in between his chewing. “F-fuck, babe..~”

Gamer Husband!Satoru whose shirt you pushed your fingers under, splaying them out across the smooth expanse. You could feel how his stomach was fluttering in time with how he throbbed on your tongue. Mumbled carefully, pulling your hair back a bit to look up at him—cheeks still stuffed full of him in the most erotic sight he’d ever seen, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ‘Toru..~”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who can’t do anything but whine at your muffled gibe, mostly because your moans and voice created such sweet vibrations around his already-dripping cockhead from the back of your throat. He knows you were quite literally being a hypocrite, seeing as. Not a complaint fell though. All he could do is grip the sheets that lay beside him, trying his best to stay focused on the delectable meal and not the delicious feeling of your tongue becoming reacquainted with the powerful throb that now distracted him as he picked at his food some more. Eating was clearly the last thing on his mind.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who gets a bit too close, a bit too fast. Easily leaving you to pull off with a wet pop! When you felt the telltale way his balls started to draw up close to his body, how the stream of pre had only gotten more coarse when you started to deepthroat him properly. Poor thing, he was just simply shivering from your ministrations, obviously pouting strongly when the sensation had been lost just as he was inching his way closer to an orgasm. Only for you to take his cock up into your hand, giving it lazy strokes that were a glide, thanks to the efforts of your trachea. It was so nasty. So loud. Sticky shluck, shluck, over and over as the ring you’d created with your index and thumb ran from his tip to base in that agonizingly slow pace. “Ah, ahh. Come on, ‘Toruuu..y’know you’ve gotta finish your food before you can try to get any type of reward.”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who noted your emphasis on ‘any’ from a mile away. It was a double-edged sword, referring to the actual dessert that you’d had made and well…being able to cum. But oh when he rushed to finish, swallow down the last bite and lick the plate clean—that, he held your eye contact for—all while your fingers kneaded his swollen sac in one hand and the other was still pumping in earnest as you watched him. Though, maybe you should’ve been working more on getting him to calm down from his previous denial because boy did the payback hit different when he finally set the dish down on the sheets and proudly announced, “Alll donee.”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who decided to thank you for the meal in one of the best ways he knew how—gifting you with a niiice arch in your spine, pillow prince treatment and the good length of his dick sunk into your tight heat as you needlessly poured out his name over and over. Oh my, if you had predicted he’d treat it this way, you probably would have just microwaved a corndog or something. Though, you had much bigger ‘n better things on your mind right now. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who felt like he got bigger every time you fucked him. He didn’t but damn. With your own recoil and how you were being fucked stupid just from him leaning back a bit and pulling you back to meet his hips each time. Slick of lube dripping and making a spread between the fronts of his meaty thighs and the backs of yours, you didn’t even know what to do with yourself. And especially not when he was leaning down to press his sweaty chest against the similarity of your back.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who changed up his thrusts for a bit, driving you wild as a hand came up from your navel, past your chest and up to your throat—not choking, no, just holding you there and lifting your face up out of the silk pillowcases. Moaning into your ear, rutting into you with a deeeep grind against your prostate that had you gritting your teeth and shuddering whenever he hit it just right. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s never been afraid to show his gratitude nor his submissive side. Borderline fighting for his breath as his cock took its sweet time mapping out your ridged insides in a way that had you breathless, scratching down at sheets with broken pitches. He was just so grateful for you. For making him food, for motivating him to eat properly, for taking him sooo well. Oh, he just simply adored you. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who hasn’t shied away from talking you through it, licking a stripe up the column of your neck as he continued that sensual grind that had you seeing stars in no time. “Haah, thas’ it..uhuuuh..f-fuck, mhn..” groaned out between his thrusts in an effort to encourage you the best that he could. “My sweet fuckin’ hubby, makin’ me such..mmf- goood food to wake up, lettin’ me fuck this even sweeter ass..fuck…” the last lament before he was speeding up his pace again.

Gamer Husband!Satoru whose balls slapped up against your taint at a quicker pace as he worked you both toward climax. “T-there you go, yeahhh, yeahh, that’s the spot? Mhm? Oh, I knoww, baby..” he’d coo along, feeling how you tightened up noticeably around his cock when the crown of it swiveled its way right into your sweet spot repetitively, seemingly aiming for it. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who most likely doesn’t even know the effect that he has on you, how he made your knees buckle and your jaw go slack, teetering on the edge of a shaking orgasm as you let out little “Right there”s and “I’m so close, so close”s. That was all the motivation that he really needed, that he’d ever really need from you to do anything. But right now, he took it as a sign to use his free hand to wrap around your underside, stroking your neglected, weeping cock in time with his thrusts that were becoming erratic and uncoordinated as his own release fast-approached.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who always likes finishing inside and who knows you love it just as much as him. Something about marking you up from the inside out that got him going real bad. So he made no effort to try and pull out, driving it home as he was ravaging your narrow channel with wild abandon, pounding you straight into the mattress and into climax. “.. ‘Toruuu, fuckin’ guh-! Cumming, ‘m fuckin’...mhn..!” weakly mewled out as your body finally tensed up, a few full-body quakes before you were finally spilling your load out over the sheets without a care in the world for the mess that you would have to clean up afterward.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who took the feeling of your cum spurting from your swollen tip as a sign that he could follow suit, going as far as to push you from a doggy position and down into a full prone bone. Completely seating himself in your boycunt as he let himself reach that pinnacle of pleasure inside.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who ground his pelvis down into you, furthering the intensity of your own ongoing climax as your fingers got a claw on the sheets beside your head. There would’ve been cartoonish swirls in your eyes had this not been your reality, so instead, they fell at a cross before rolling up and to a close.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s just so generously dumping ounce after ounce of his foamy strands into you, hips stuttering as he leaned his head back, letting the relief fully wash over him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who got to listen to your needy whining come up as breathless and airy successions that gradually calmed down. Then came his least and most favorite part about your coupling—pulling out. Softened cock sliding inch by inch out of your sore hole before finally breaking away, dragging a connecting string of cum along with.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s just marveling at you, to which you pipe up. “Are we gonna..haah…do this every time..?” somewhere between a genuine question and a rhetorical at the same time.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who cocked his head off to the side, casting you an impish grin as he came to lay down next to you. Leaning in to kiss up on your neck, shoulders, all the way down your arm and stopping at your hand. More specifically, your ring. Placing rows of the tender contacts to the precious stone that adorned your finger.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who finally gives up an answer, “If anything, this arrangement would be sooo much better if we ate afterward. How do you feel about me cooking dinner tomorrow night?” a hopeful smile accompanying the innuendo that was too tempting to let up.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who winds up laughing in a small victory upon your murmured agreement, tugging you into his arms and peppering your face with even more kisses.

A little sweet tooth pampering got you far. Having a husband who would die for you twice over doesn’t hurt, either. At least you know he won’t be skipping any meals after this…

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

A/N: Hiya, this has been pretty fun to debut with, lol. Satoru is a personal favorite, obvi but I’m so dearly excited for the next after a hiatus. Head over to this guy @lvrboy-inc , heard he’s crawling out from the ground to deliver some more fetching works while I take to B.T.S. ‘Till next time~

[lilacgaby]

Your stories are wonderful ♥️♥️

I couldn't stop reading ✨✨

I was thinking about a fantasy AU, where we have the big dragon bakugou and his tiny fairy friend a Tinkerbelk vibe lol

And what would their routine be like, perhaps scaring away some treasure hunters?

I love your stories ♥️✨

dragonking!katsuki was the most feared king in all the lands. he was strong, wielding a sword he welded with his own flames, magic stronger than a clan of witches, and unforeseen knowledge that always gave him an edge.

how did he get this knowledge you ask? it was a secret to most, however.. only his most trusted dragonknight knew it was because of his pocket-sized fairy, you.

you wore a flower dress of your favorite color, always glowing and shimmery because of the fairy dust you used to keep yourself healthy and flying. you'd found katsuki when he was a prince, he was teary eyed as he sat out in the gardens, upset that his childhood rival had been revealed to have royal blood.

you were lost, still in a white, orchid gown as you slowly flew around, eventually landing on his knee. he eyed you oddly, jumping slightly when you landed on him. though, as he examined you further, he realized that he was being touched by a real fairy. something he'd only heard about in tales he'd hear at night. you spoke to him, though at first he could only hear a bell sound.

he saw you looked frustrated, until smacking your forehead with a "duh!" and flying up to sprinkle him with some fairy dust. after a bit of confusion, he kept his red eyes locked onto you as you cleared your throat. "can you hear me now?" you said, making him speechless. he managed a nod and you continued.

"i don't really know how to get back to my hollow so.. can i stay with you?" you asked, shyly putting one leg behind the other at your request. he sputtered, before managing a, "t-that's cool, fairy girl."

"it's actually [name] random guy!"

"okay [name], uh-- katsuki's fine."

he soon realized not everyone could hear you, and you explained that the fairy dust you used was too valuable to let just everyone use it. he smirked though, happy that he'd be special to you.

you were there as he was sent off on his crowning journey, telling him where to find the best loot, the best resting places you'd remember, and even how to scavenge for food. you'd keep him company through the uncomfortable nights, and he'd carry you in his gloved hands during winter, since your wing's would freeze over.

he'd make you tiny leaf beds and let you sleep a safe distance from his head, he'd make sure you ate and would take you to collect pixie dust from the various trees you'd remember.

with your help, he was the first successful one of all the heirs to help awaken the crimson dragon, officially crowning him king.

he celebrated with you, treating you to maple syrup and finding you the best flowers to finally make you a new dress, topping it all of with a baby's breath crown.

you were always on his shoulder, always hidden by the fur coat he'd adorn. people would find the king randomly smiling as he heard your jokes or comments, but when questioned he'd slam his fist.

the casual day for you two would usually be hunting for treasure. for some reason, fairies were hardwired with amazing intuition that was always correct, so you were like his own metal detector. he'd hold you close to him, a habit he formed after you were snatched out of the sky once by a hawk, and you'd point in the direction you'd need to go.

when he arrived, seeing the pirates already in process of looting the place, he'd ready his magic, whispering to you to get under his coat. he fought off the 20 some men alone, leaving with not only the treasure in the cave, but on the pirates ship too.

as he called his village people to come get their share of the fair amount of treasure, he smiled softly at you, who was now eating some more maple candy he'd got for you on top of his thumb.

he owed it all to you, his fairy.

can you tell i loved this req??? ty for the support always <3

[blackenedsnow]

Hiya! Could I request a Cell x Male Reader who is an entomologist that adores him and visits him often? The reader nearly dies one day, and Cell finds him after noticing his absence. kinda a mix of fluff and angst if you can

wings of concern

WARNING: Injury (near-death experience)

PAIRING: Cell x (Male) Reader

NOTE: Hi there! <3 Thank you so much for this request—it’s so fun, and I had such a good time imagining Cell in this dynamic. I hope you enjoy it! Sending all my love to you, and take care of yourself <333

SUMMARY: When your daily visits to Cell suddenly stop, the bio-android sets out to uncover what happened to you, only to discover that you’re in grave danger.

Cell wasn’t used to being appreciated.

The world feared him, loathed him, painted him as a monster—and perhaps they were right. After all, he was there to dominate, destroy, and surpass all others.

But then there was you.

You, the oddball entomologist who had stumbled into his solitude one quiet afternoon, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he could crush you with a flick of his wrist. Instead of fear, your eyes had lit up with fascination.

“Amazing,” you’d said, as if he were some rare specimen rather than the culmination of humanity’s arrogance and terror.

At first, Cell had assumed you were a fool, blinded by naive curiosity. But as the days passed and you kept returning, your interest genuine and unwavering, he began to tolerate your presence. Then, to his surprise, he found himself… looking forward to it.

You weren’t like the others. You didn’t beg for mercy or seek to challenge him. You simply admired him—his design, his abilities, even his connection to the insect world.

It was strange. But not unpleasant.

That was why your absence didn’t go unnoticed.

Three days. Three whole days without your familiar figure appearing in the distance, waving enthusiastically as you approached. No chatter about beetles or butterflies. No insistent questions about his biology, his wings, his exoskeletal armor.

At first, he assumed you’d grown bored or frightened. Perhaps you’d finally realized the absurdity of visiting someone like him.

But by the fourth day, irritation crept in. And by the fifth, a strange unease took root.

He didn’t like it.

It wasn’t concern, he told himself. Merely curiosity. A desire for answers.

And so, with a burst of energy, he took to the skies, his keen senses scanning for any sign of you.

It didn’t take long for him to find you.

The sight stopped him cold.

You were lying at the base of a rocky cliff, half-buried in debris, your body battered and barely moving. Blood stained the ground around you, and your breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps.

For a moment, Cell simply stared.

This was… unexpected.

Something twisted in his chest, an unfamiliar sensation that made his grip on control falter. It was almost like—no, it couldn’t be concern. He wasn’t capable of such weakness.

And yet, he was at your side in an instant, his movements uncharacteristically rushed.

“What have you done to yourself?” he muttered, his tone colder than he intended.

Your eyes fluttered open, barely focusing on him. A weak, broken laugh escaped your lips. “Hey… Cell…”

The sound made something tighten in his chest again, and he frowned. “This isn’t amusing.”

“Didn’t think… you’d notice…” you murmured, your voice faint. “Got a little… too close to the edge… I guess…”

Cell’s jaw clenched. Foolish. Reckless. Typical of a human.

But as he looked down at you—at the blood, the injuries, the fragile rise and fall of your chest—he felt something else beneath the frustration. Something he couldn’t quite name.

Carefully, almost hesitantly, he scooped you into his arms. Your weight was negligible to him, but the fragility of your form made him move with an unfamiliar gentleness.

“You’re fortunate I found you,” he said, his voice low. “Any longer, and you would’ve been…”

He trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

You gave another weak laugh, your head resting against his chest. “Guess I owe you… huh?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he took off, the wind whipping past you both.

Cell didn’t stop until he found a safe, secluded spot where he could tend to your injuries. His knowledge of human anatomy wasn’t perfect, but he was efficient, his movements precise as he worked to stabilize you.

As he wrapped a makeshift bandage around your arm, you managed a small smile. “Didn’t think you cared.”

“I don’t,” he said sharply, though the way his hands lingered betrayed his words.

“Liar,” you murmured, your smile widening despite the pain.

He didn’t dignify that with a response, but his silence spoke volumes.

Over the next few days, Cell stayed by your side, his presence both a comfort and a reminder of your own fragility. He didn’t ask why you visited him so often or why you saw something worth admiring in him.

But as he watched over you, ensuring your recovery, he realized something important.

You were a curiosity to him. An anomaly. A human who saw him not as a monster, but as something extraordinary.

And perhaps, that made you worth protecting.

[holdmymallowsweet]

A Wisp of Affection

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC

Word count: 1,635

A chance meeting in the depth of a summer night leads to some playful banter, and an intriguing question.

Also on AO3, properly tagged

a/n: I’ve been feeling a certain way about this ghost boy lately, and then I came across Sasha Alex Sloan’s “Dancing with your Ghost” by chance and it put me in a wonderfully melancholic mood. And now that you know what to blame for this, enjoy.

There was something enticing about the Forbidden Forest at night. Laced with a prickling sense of danger, it promised adventure and glory- or perhaps notoriety, for those bold enough to venture into it. He might not have met an untimely death, if it hadn’t been for his odd fascination with the place.

Soft footsteps and rustling in the grass told him someone was approaching, and he felt her presence before he even saw her.

She found him again.

He turned his head to look at her, which always startled her a bit-

But then, where was the fun in getting his head cut off, if he couldn’t use it for comedic effect? And it always made her laugh in the end.

This time was no different, eyebrows raised in a slightly disturbed frown, corners of her lips twitching upwards, she gave him a quick huff of laughter before closing the distance between them. 

“Hello, Jackdaw.”

She strode over to him, disturbing a swarm of fireflies as she went, before she sat down.

“Hello, you. Out for a midnight stroll?”

“Always, you know me.” She flashed him another one of her playful smiles.

He returned it fondly. They both liked to pretend that she came across him by accident when they met like this, usually in the depth of night, when everything was quiet, save for the ambient sounds of the forest. He always found it romantic, although not many agreed, at least not the girls he tried to court when he was alive.

She took a deep breath of air. The fireflies illuminating her skin when they flew close and the serene look on her face made her feel like something out of a dream. More of an apparition than himself. The sight would have made his heart flutter, if he’d had one. She brushed a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear, only getting it at the second try, and he wished he could have done it for her.

He’d known they were kindred spirits when he sent her off into the cave where he met his demise. When he noticed she still had her head, the next time he saw her, he was both relieved and disappointed. He wasn’t entirely sure how tangible relationships between ghosts could be, but Merlin, he’d have liked to discover it with her, if it had come to that.

Curious, fearless, playful and teasing in a way that felt warm and endearing rather than malicious. Traits that Anne had once shared with her, before Azkaban cruelly burnt them away. Perhaps that’s why he’d briefly entertained the notion of picking up where he left off with this one.

It was quite pointless to think about, really. He wasn’t of her world, and she wasn’t from his time, not even born yet when he was alive. It was no matter, he’d never mature- mentally or physically- beyond his 17 year old self. Whatever it was that they shared on these summer nights, it was a fleeting sensation. Soon enough, she’d outgrow him, worry about employment and other adult responsibilities, perhaps remember him as a schoolgirl crush as she aged while he would be no different than he was now. Waiting around for the next lass or lad who’d indulge him, but she’d likely always be one of his favourites.

He looked up at her- which reminded him that he was still holding his head, which he promptly replaced on his neck- waiting for her to speak. In the beginning, he’d tried to woo her with tales of his adventures, but she wasn’t easily impressed. Understandable, as she had plenty of adventures of her own under her belt. Over time, he realised that it was more rewarding to enjoy the silence with her, until she’d suddenly have a thought, or a question that led to something- a jaunt through the forest or sometimes just a bit of teasing back and forth between them, but he loved it all the same. 

“How’s Anne?”

All right, not what he’d hoped for. 

“Much the same, really, but I don’t want to talk about Anne right now.” He only ever visited her in St. Mungos out of a sense of moral obligation, she only vaguely remembered him and they no longer had anything to talk about anyway. Being ultimately responsible for her fate, the guilt would forever stay with him, but he didn’t want to let it spoil the moment.

She said nothing, only measured him with those piercing eyes of hers that seemed to see right through him, in more ways than the obvious one. She’d always been the perceptive sort, had a knack for figuring out what went on in the heads of others. It could be quite unnerving, but thrilling at the same time.

“How come I never see you around the castle?” she asked, evidently content to drop her previous question.

“Why, did you miss me?”  

He’d avoided her on purpose. She had her own life in the light of day, and he didn’t want to constantly fight the temptation to invade her privacy. This was at most a dalliance, not the romance of the century, and it was better that way, considering their circumstances.

“Do you remember the deathday ballroom? I thought I’d see you there sometimes, but I never do.” 

He made a face. “Not really my preferred choice of location. Or company.”

She chuckled. “Not one for dancing, are you?”

“Did you happen to take a look at the other ghosts? Hardly anyone there who’s not old enough to be my mother. Or my grandmother.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain at least some of them died after you.”

“That’s not really how this works.”

She laughed. If only he could dance with her- 

Actually, perhaps he could. One of those stiff, boring dances that didn’t involve touching. He watched her as she pushed back that strand of hair again. It was hard to imagine her curtsying in a pretty dress anyway, she looked much better running and scrambling through the forest, with the hems of her robes frayed beyond the capabilities of even the most potent repairing charms.

“You know, speaking of dance partners…” 

“Yes?” He was perfectly willing to change his mind though, if that’s where she was going with this.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” she asked, giving him a curious look.

“I’ve done more than kissing, little fledgeling. I was quite popular with the girls in my time.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a derisive snort. “Oh? How’d that work out for you?”

He grimaced. Poorly almost seemed to be an understatement, but then neither of them had ever been as good a match for him as her. More willing and able to follow his clues and solve his riddles than Anne, more intrigued by the treasures in his thief’s den than Apollonia- she was a bit of a magpie herself, much like him. They would have been so good together.

“Why, looking to take advantage of my expertise, are you?” She had no shortage of male acquaintances she might possibly want to kiss. Personally, his galleons were on the freckled brunet- that one reminded him a bit of himself. He wasn’t sure what she would have wanted with the sarcastic, blind one, but then there was no accounting for taste, and she always was a bit unpredictable. He wouldn’t blame her either way, there could never be anything real between the two of them, and she had needs like any other person.

“Do you miss it?”

“Obviously.”

She didn’t respond immediately, staring at her outstretched legs, tapping the tips of her boots together.

“If someone kissed you… uhm, had their lips close enough to yours that you would be kissing, I suppose, do you think you could feel it?”

He took a moment to stare at her. “Of course not.” 

She turned to meet his eyes. Was he imagining the slight blush on her cheeks? It was hard to tell in the darkness. Was this going where he thought it was?

“I mean emotionally. You can clearly feel joy, and sadness-”

“Only one way to find out.” He swiftly grabbed his head again, holding it so that he was at eye level with her- if she wanted to, she could laugh, play it off as a joke.

Merlin, that startled expression was even more adorable up close, and her theory was already proven right. He couldn’t remember ever being so excited and nervous about a kiss, not even when he was alive. But there was no way he’d tell her, not while there was still a chance that she’d close the distance, and he could perhaps feel the tiniest sliver of her warmth, or get an idea of what she tasted like.

He almost couldn’t believe his luck when she leaned forward, close enough that he could count her eyelashes, only to stop a finger’s width away from his lips. 

Then she smirked. “Did you think I was going to give you my first kiss? Just like that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have to count-” he pouted.

She laughed. “If you want my kiss, you’ll have to earn it.”

“How?”

She stood up, brushing dirt off her robes. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said, flashing him a last, teasing smile before she turned around and started walking back the way she’d come.

“You’re leaving?” 

“For today.”

His mind feverishly tried to come up with something, anything, to get her to stay.

“Wait.”

She turned around, looking at him expectantly.

“How about a riddle? Just for you. In exchange for the kiss.”

Her eyes sparkled.

There was no version of forever that they could share, but on these summer nights, for a brief, fleeting moment in time, she was his.

a/n 2 : So there you go, I wrote this over the course of two glorious moody summer nights and it was so much fun. They always say ‘write what you want to read’, and this really is just something I really, really wanted at that moment, but if you liked it as well (let me know if you did) I’m happy. ❤️ This little encounter takes place after the whole Ranrok issue is resolved and Mc is just another (adventurous) student, Anne has been released from Azkaban and is living at St. Mungo’s permanent care ward, while Jackdaw is trying to settle in as one of Hogwarts’ ghosts. Also, I always imagined Jackdaw as a Slytherin (but I’m coming around to Ravenclaw!Jackdaw) and both MC and Anne as muggleborn Hufflepuffs (I just like the idea of those two being awfully similar, but with the crucial difference that Mc really is as adventurous and clever as Jackdaw expected Anne to be), but in the end none of their houses came up 😅 And finally, english isn’t my first language, so if you liked the story but you had a “she keeps using that word, I don’t think it means what she thinks it means” moment, feel free to let me know (just be nice about it) Cheers!

[cococharm]

Hello, may I request something for DPR Ian where readers meet his friends?

I understand if you are busy or don't want to take this request 💕

Impressions

Pairing: DPR Ian x GN!reader Genre: Romance, Fluff Warnings: established relationships, Characters: Summary: Y/n meets Christian's friends for the first time. AN: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I decided to use their stage name instead of their real name, so people don't get confused.

I tugged nervously at the hem of my shirt as Christian led me into the dimly lit bar. The place had a intimate vibe, with warm lights casting a soft glow over the wooden tables and leather booths. I wasn't sure what to expect when he suggested a casual night out, but it wasn't this.

"Are you okay?" Christian asked, his voice low and soothing as he squeezed my hand.

"Yeah, just a little nervous," I admitted, giving him a small smile. "It's not every day I meet your friends."

He chuckled, pulling me closer as we weaved through the crowd. "You'll be fine. They're going to love you. I mean, how could they not?"

I appreciated his confidence, but my stomach still fluttered with nerves. Meeting Christian's friends felt like a big step, a glimpse into a part of his life that I hadn't yet been privy to. I knew how close he was with his crew, the people he worked with and trusted, so I wanted to make a good impression.

“Hey, guys!” Christian called out, catching their attention. “I want you to meet someone.”

All eyes turned to us as we reached the table. Christian gently nudged me forward, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of my back.

“This is Y/N,” he said, his voice full of pride. “My girlfriend.”

The group greeted me with warm smiles and enthusiastic hellos, and I couldn’t help but relax a little. They seemed friendly, welcoming even. Christian introduced each of them one by one—there was Live, Cream, and several others.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Live said, extending his hand with a grin. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, Christian doesn’t shut up about you,” Cream added, teasingly nudging Christian, who just rolled his eyes with a grin.

I laughed, feeling my nerves start to melt away. “All positive things, I hope?”

“Of course!” Live said, patting the seat next to him. “Come, sit down. We’ve got plenty of room.”

Christian and I slid into the booth, and the conversation quickly resumed. I listened intently as they joked and shared stories, their camaraderie evident in every word. It was easy to see why Christian cherished these people—they were like a family, a close-knit group that had each other’s backs no matter what.

As the night wore on, I found myself slowly being pulled into their world. They were funny, down-to-earth, and full of energy. They asked me questions about myself, genuinely fascinating in getting to know me, and shared stories about their adventures with Christian.

Christian whispered in my ear at one point, his arm wrapped casually around my waist.

I smiled up at him, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “I can see why you care about them so much.” I whispered.

“They already like you,” he said softly, his eyes shining with affection. “But then again, who wouldn’t?”

Before long, I was laughing along with the group, feeling more at ease than I ever expected. We talked about everything from music to travel, and I even got to hear a few embarrassing stories about Christian’s past that had me in stitches.

Eventually, the night began to wind down. The bar had emptied out a bit, and the energy had shifted to a more relaxed, mellow vibe. Christian’s friends started making their goodbyes, one by one, each of them giving me a warm farewell.

“It was great meeting you, Y/N,” Cream said as he gave me a quick hug. “You’re welcome to hang with us anytime.”

“Thanks,” I replied, feeling genuinely touched. “I’d love that.”

Once everyone had left, Christian and I were the only ones left at the table. He glanced at me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” he said, leaning in to kiss my temple.

I smiled, leaning into his touch. “You were right. They’re amazing, Christian. I really enjoyed tonight.”

He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “I’m glad you did. It means a lot to me that you got along with them.”

I hugged him back, feeling a sense of contentment settle over me. Meeting his friends had been nerve-wracking, but now that it was over, I realized it was a huge step in our relationship—a step that brought us even closer.

As we walked out of the bar hand in hand, I felt a renewed sense of belonging. Christian had opened up another part of his world to me, and I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be—right by his side.

[yesterdaysproblem]

i love christopher owen sturniolo

[pastafossa]

Tomorrow to celebrate the trailer I'm going to do a little one-shot celebrating older!DDBA!Matt with Reader/Jane Hind because we all deserve that, as a treat. It'll be sweet.

I thought about doing smut, but quite frankly I already have a smut fic about his DDBA coat and his DDBA beard and I need to balance that out with some fluff celebrating their love in a SFW way in addition to the NSFW way. And then I'll go back to working on TRT's next chapter cause this is the dopamine burst I need, ya'll.