#the expressions and the movement AND the lighting just really make this moment so dramatic and dynamic I love it so much

[2aceofspades]

FEELINGS. EMOTIONS.

Y'all. 🥲

3k Comic//002D-Alpha 9 (10 years post-mutation)

Part 1 | 001D-Alpha 9

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ darry rings - are limited to one per lifetime, emphasizing that love should be exclusive and irreplaceable. true love verification ensures each customer can only buy one ring.

includes: itoshi sae! x reader. 0.9k wc. fluff hehe

you are unable to believe the outrageous actions of your boyfriend. this time, his doings were diabolical to the point of no return. “get out!”

you push itoshi sae out the door in a fit of frustration. his sigh is so loud, it feels like it’s echoing in your head, only making your irritation worse.

“this is my bedroom,” he deadpans, as if stating the obvious will reverse his sudden eviction. it doesn’t work. you’re already diving into the duvets with a determined scowl.

“what are you even doing?” he asks, his tone tipping into annoyance. he narrows his eyes when you march a little closer and throw his pillow into his arms.

“you’re sleeping on the couch,” you declare, voice firm, matching his now sour expression. “and actually, that pillow is way too nice. hand it back.”

he blinks, baffled, before the "too nice" pillow is snatched away and replaced with a sad, flat one that looks like it’s seen better days.

sae stares at the new pillow and then at you. this is so absurd, so far removed from the usual luxurious facade of his life, that the ever-composed itoshi sae actually laughs.

“you’re forgetting something,” he says suddenly, catching your wrist and pulling you closer.

“sae! let go!” you yelp, squirming in his grasp.

“are you seriously this upset over that cheap ring?” his tone is somewhere between exasperation and amusement, as if he should've expected such a reaction.

“it doesn’t matter if it was cheap; it was mine!” you hit his chest with a fist, glaring up at him. “and you hid it!”

“because i got you a better one,” he says, his eyebrows raising slightly, as if that explains everything.

“well, you could’ve just said that!” you huff, shoving his arm. “i was freaking out, thinking i lost it!”

"why do you even like that ring so much?" sae asks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether this argument is even worth his energy.

"because you gave it to me in high school!" you snap back, arms crossing dramatically. "i've spent more time with that ring than with you!"

he freezes, the weight of your words sinking in. the usual sharpness in his expression softens, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you. his gaze lingers on you, quiet and heavy with a mixture of guilt and something unspoken.

it's true. he knows it. he knows just how many times he’s failed to be present for you, how many moments he’s missed, how many nights you’ve spent waiting for him to come back—both physically and emotionally. each time, each goodbye felt like he was leaving behind another piece of you. your glassy eyes were all he would remember during those long flights.

but that's exactly why he's been wanting to do this for a while. because, although he might not make it obvious, itoshi sae is more attentive than you think.

he reaches into his pocket. the movement catches your attention, and when he pulls out a small velvet box, your breath hitches.

“is that...” you begin to question, even though the answer is obvious.

he opens the box, revealing a sleek, elegant darry ring. it gleams under the soft light of the bedroom—intricate, expensive, but graceful instead of loud, the kind of thing only sae could choose.

“i didn’t hide your ring to be an ass,” he says, a rare gentleness lacing his tone. his firm hand captures yours and slides the perfectly fitted ring on your designated finger.

"i wanted you to have something better," he brings your jeweled hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss. "something worthy of you."

"i wanted to sign my name to you."

you blink, your chest tightening, and before you know it, you're rushing forward to throw your arms around him in an impulsive, tight hug.

"you're an idiot, sae!" you voice, sound coming out teary-eyed.

a moment passes without either of you saying anything. he just holds you tighter, as if making up for every moment he couldn’t be there. then, he chuckles softly, a low, soft sound that fills the space between you.

you pull back just enough to frown up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "you're laughing?!"

sae, with that trademark smirk, tilts his head slightly. "do you like it?" his voice teasing but with that edge of sincerity you know so well.

you scoff, still holding on to his shirt, a little stunned. "are you seriously asking me that right now?" you mumble, though your heart is already swelling.

"i love it," you finally smile, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "i love it, sae."

he leans forward, the tug of his smile remaining. "yeah?" he inches closer, grabbing you, leaving no room for escape. "how much?"

"so much.." you manage to whisper against his lips before he fully dives in for a kiss.

his lips move gently against yours, tasting the words you just spoke, savoring your happiness. it’s soft and tender, and deliberately slow, as he prefers.

when he finally pulls back, you're left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. you glance up at him, suddenly shy, feeling a soft blush creeping on you.

"you're still sleeping on the couch," you point and smile, face full of mischief.

sae shrugs, his expression slipping into one of playful indifference. “fine. but you’re joining me.”

before you can even protest, he scoops you up effortlessly, your squeals of protest only providing him amusement as he holds you securely in his arms.

"okay, okay! you can sleep on the bed!"

a/n: me ignoring my 1k wc essay to write a 1k wc sae fic 👍🏼

[cumironi]

i LOVE your works and i was wondering if you could write their ( toji, nanami, geto and gojo) reaction to you refusing to let them shower with the reader on purpose? if not that’s fine too! have a great dayyy.

SAVE THE WATER, SHOWER TOGETHER !’

you refuse to let your boyfriend join you in the shower, featuring. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna.

GOJO SATORU!’

as the warm steam curled through the bathroom, you were about to step into the shower when you caught movement from the corner of your eye. there, leaning casually against the doorframe, stood gojo with his arms crossed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. his eyes sparkled with that usual mischievous glint, and you knew exactly what he was about to suggest before he even opened his mouth.

“soooo,” he began, his voice light and teasing, “need a little company in there? you know, someone to scrub your back?”

you sighed, not even glancing back as you adjusted the water temperature. “you know, you ask this every time,” you replied, your tone flat but laced with amusement. “and every time, the answer’s still the same.”

gojo pouted at your reply, moving into the bathroom and leaning against the wall near doorframe so that he blocked any escape. “oh, come on,” he whined, his bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated frown, “it’s not like i’ve ever been boring.” he stepped closer, his arms uncrossing as he reached out and tugged gently at your towel. “besides, showering alone is so lonely. i could make it much more… enjoyable.”

you turned to him, one eyebrow arching as you met his gaze. a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you crossed your own arms over your chest. “oh, babe, i don’t doubt that,“ you said, your tone teasing, eyes narrowing slightly. “i’m sure you'd make it very enjoyable.”

gojo’s grin widened, thinking he was getting somewhere, but before he could celebrate, you added with a playful roll of your eyes, “but you’d also waste a ton of water. and we both know you’re just going to end up making a mess.”

gojo’s grin faltered for a second, but it was quickly replaced with a mock-hurt expression. “oh, come on now,” he protested, placing his hand over his heart in a melodramatic gesture. “don’t insult me like that. i’m perfectly capable of controlling myself, thank you very much.”

he moved closer, his hands now resting on your hips, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin. “besides, do you really think i care about wasting water when i could have a nice, steamy shower with the most beautiful woman in the world?”

you shook your head, biting back a laugh as you placed your hands on his chest, gently pushing him away. despite the firm rejection, your eyes gleamed with mischief, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “no, babe. absolutely not.”

he gave you that charming smile, eyes twinkling, as if expecting you to give in any moment, but you raised a brow at him. “do i need to remind you what happened the last time we showered together?”

gojo blinked, his grin faltering again as you continued, “you broke my shampoo bottle, knocked over everything on the shelf, and somehow managed to flood half the bathroom.” you smirked, leaning closer, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “so, no. i’d rather not have a repeat of that.”

gojo let out a dramatic huff, his hands still resting on your hips, thumbs now tracing along your sides. he knew he was not winning this argument, but he always had to try. “hey, that was not my fault,” he protested, looking for all the world like a scolded puppy. “the shampoo bottle just... slipped. and the flood was a complete accident.”

he leaned in closer, his gaze sultry, as he tried once more to sway you. “how about i promise to be good this time? no mess, no accidents. just me, you, and a… very pleasurable shower.”

you laughed softly at his persistence, unable to hide your amusement, but you weren’t giving in that easily. you knew exactly what ‘pleasurable’ meant when it came to gojo, and you had no intention of letting him get his way. “and how many times have you promised that before?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

gojo chuckled sheepishly at your callout, his fingers still playing with the edge of your towel. “maybe a few times,” he admitted, a sly grin on his face. “but come on, you know I mean it this time. pinky promise.” he held up his pinky finger, wiggling it at you in a playful manner, as if sealing the deal.

you laughed again, shaking your head as you stepped forward, placing your hands firmly on his chest. “no,” you said, your voice playful but final. with gentle pressure, you started pushing him toward the door, slowly and playfully, until he was backed out of the bathroom.

gojo allowed himself to be pushed back out into the hallway, a hint of amusement in his eyes. he knew he was not going to win this time, but he wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“you’re missing out, you know,” he said, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes roamed over your figure, still covered by the towel. “a shower with me is a damn good time.”

you rolled your eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. gojo’s relentless charm always had a way of getting to you, even when you were determined to be firm.

“oh, i’m well aware of how good a time a shower with you can be. but i value my sanity and a non-flooded bathroom more than that,” you mumble, leaning closer to give him a quick kiss.

GETO SUGURU!’

you casually draped your towel over your shoulder as you headed toward the bathroom, fully prepared for a peaceful shower. your mind was elsewhere, already focused on the warm water that awaited you, when you heard a sudden shuffle from the bed. geto, who had been lounging comfortably moments before, was now instantly on his feet, following closely behind with a wide grin on his face.

feeling his presence just a step behind, you furrowed your brows and glanced over your shoulder, catching his mischievous gaze. “why are you following me?” you asked, confused but already knowing the answer.

he shrugged casually, his grin never faltering. “wherever you go, i go,” he said, voice smooth and teasing. you raised an eyebrow, stopping just outside the bathroom door. “oh, really? and what do you plan on doing in there?”

he chuckled at your question, leaning against the wall next to the door. “oh, you know. i was thinking of lending you a hand in the shower,” he said, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

he moved closer to you, his body towering over yours as he placed a hand on the doorframe, effectively blocking any escape route. “after all, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to make sure you’re thoroughly cleaned,” he teased, his voice dripping with innuendo.

you raised an eyebrow at him, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “oh? extra service, huh?” you tilted your head, feigning thought for a moment. “well, i don’t think i paid for that today.”

geto’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying your playful resistance as he leaned even closer, still blocking the door. “don’t worry, babe. this one’s on the house,” he whispered, his tone dripping with flirtation. you chuckled, shaking your head as you lightly pushed against his chest. “tempting, but no thanks. i’ll manage just fine on my own.” you slid past him with a grin, slipping into the bathroom.

geto let out a mock pout as you slipped past him into the bathroom, his arms crossing over his chest. “aww, come on. you're no fun,” he called out, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

he leaned against bathroom doorframe, listening to the sound of the shower starting. he let out a small sigh, a smirk forming on his face as a mischievous idea came to him. he waited for a moment, counting the seconds in his head before he spoke up again. “you know, it’s dangerous to shower alone...”

you turned toward him, already knowing where this was going, a sly smile playing on your lips. “oh, is it?” you called out as you casually started stripping, tossing your clothes to the side without a second thought. “and what kind of danger are we talking about here? other than a perverted boyfriend lurking around?”

a soft laugh escaped his lips as you teasingly discarded your clothes, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin before meeting your gaze. “oh, you know. the kind of danger that comes with not having me there to protect you,” he replied, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

he pushed himself away from the doorframe and started to saunter towards the bathroom, his footsteps slow and deliberate. “and we can’t have anything happening to my precious girlfriend now, can we?”

you met his gaze, smirking as you stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over your bare skin. “i think i'm perfectly fine,” you said, your tone light and teasing. “pretty sure no one's gonna jump me while i’m in here.”

the water kissed your skin as you turned your back to him, enjoying the sensation of the steam filling the air. you could feel his eyes still on you, but you refused to let him win this round. “besides, the only danger i see around here is you,” you added with a playful glance over your shoulder.

he chuckled, the sound low and deep as he leaned against the tile wall, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes roamed over your wet, exposed body, appreciating the view before him. “oh, really?” he drawled, his tone dripping with challenge. “and why is that?”

he took a leisurely step closer to the shower, his eyes never leaving your back. “i seem to recall you liking the danger i come with,” he continued, his voice lowering to a seductive whisper.

you felt his gaze burning into your back, the heat of it nearly as warm as the water cascading over your skin. his words hung in the air, tempting and teasing, but you weren't about to let him have his way so easily.

without turning around, you whispered, “i think you should leave,” the playful edge in your voice is unmistakable.

with a soft chuckle, you slid the glass door shut between the two of you, the faint smirk on your lips not hidden from him. you heard him let out a mock sigh, but you knew he wasn’t going anywhere. “good luck with that,” you muttered under your breath, enjoying the feeling of having the upper hand for once.

when you slid the glass door shut, separating the two of you, geto let out an exaggerated sigh, feigning disappointment. “aww, come on,” he called, his hands landing on the glass as he pressed up against it.

he could see your silhouette through the misted glass, the sight of you naked in the shower only fueling his desire. he let out a low chuckle, a knowing smirk on his lips as he leaned against the shower door. “you really think a little glass door is going to keep me away?”

NANAMI KENTO!’

you were nestled comfortably against nanami’s chest, his arm wrapped around you as the soft glow of the movie flickered on the screen. the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing had lulled you into a sense of complete relaxation. but suddenly, you shifted, trying to pull away from his embrace.

“i’m gonna take a shower,” you murmured, starting to sit up. nanami’s arm instinctively tightened around you, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced down at you. “right now?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with mild confusion.

“mm-hmm,” you replied, a soft smile tugging at your lips. you wriggled a little, but his hold was firm, clearly not ready to let you go so easily.

he sighed, leaning his head back on the couch as if accepting defeat but keeping his arm loosely around you. “can i join?” he asked, his tone teasing but with a subtle hint of hope. you chuckled softly, glancing at the screen and then back at him. “noooo.”

he sighed softly in mock disappointment, his hand now resting on your hip, his touch both possessive and tender. “you’re being quite the tease, you know.” he teased. he slowly pulled you on top of him, his hands sliding down to your thighs to keep you in place on his lap.

his fingers absentmindedly traced circles on the bare skin of your thighs, his eyes never leaving your face as he continued his playful banter. “showering without me… what am i supposed to do while you’re gone?”

you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, your eyes flicking from the screen back to his face as you tried to stifle a grin. “i don’t know,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes, “watch a movie, maybe?”

he let out a dry chuckle, his lips curving into a half-smile as he arched an eyebrow at your cheeky response. “ah, yes, because that's exactly what I had in mind.” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcastic annoyance as he rolled his eyes dramatically.

he slid his hands up to your hips, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he pulled you closer, the heat from his body meeting yours through the thin fabric separating you.

nanami's dry chuckle softened into something more playful as his hands rested firmly on your hips, pulling you closer until your bodies were almost pressed together. his half-smile deepened as his gaze locked with yours, his eyes flickering with just a hint of mischief.

“you know,” he began, his voice smooth and steady, “being the gentleman that I am, it’s only right I join you in the shower. can’t have you slipping and falling without someone there to catch you.”

his tone was persistent, but there was a teasing edge to it, as if he already knew the answer but enjoyed the game of wearing you down. his hands slid gently up your waist, fingers grazing your skin as he added with a smirk, “besides, i’d hate to miss the opportunity to ensure you’re... properly taken care of.”

his words hung in the air, and though his expression remained calm and composed, there was no hiding the playful intent behind them. you raised an eyebrow at his words, your lips curving into a smirk as you playfully rolled your eyes. “properly taken care of?” you repeated, the sarcasm in your voice evident as you leaned in just slightly, your breath ghosting against his lips. “and here i thought you were just worried about me slipping.”

he chuckled again, the sound low and rich as he let his hands wander leisurely over the curves of your body, his touch both deliberate and tantalising, as if he was in no rush.

“you caught me,” he murmured, the corners of his lips curving into a half-smile, “i couldn’t possibly allow you to shower all alone. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” he paused for a moment, his fingers tracing a lazy path along your skin, “plus, i’m quite looking forward to helping you… soap up.”

you hummed softly, pretending to consider his words as your hands slowly slid across his chest, your touch featherlight. his muscles tensed slightly under your fingertips, but his half-smile never wavered.

“hmm,” you mused, drawing lazy circles on his chest, “as tempting as that sounds, i think i can handle ‘soaping-up’ just fine on my own.”

your voice was teasing, playful, but firm enough that nanami could tell you weren't about to let him have his way this time. your lips curled into a smirk as you leaned in just a bit closer, your breath warm against his neck. “besides,” you added in a whisper, “you wouldn’t want to get distracted from the movie now, would you?”

with that, you gently pushed away from him, stepping toward the bathroom, glancing back over your shoulder with a mischievous glint in vour eye.

he watched you with a mix of amusement and frustration as you slowly disentangled yourself from his lap. his gaze trailed over your form, taking in every curve and contour, as if trying to commit your figure to memory. his expression was a mixture of playfulness and annoyance, clearly not appreciating being denied.

he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest as he let out a sigh of fake resignation. “oh, fine. go ahead and deprive me of the chance to witness your ‘soaping up’. i guess i’ll just have to sit here and suffer through the rest of the movie alone.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO!’

your head rested on toji’s broad chest, rising and falling with his steady breaths as the aftermath of your intimate moment lingered in the air. the room was thick with warmth, your bodies tangled beneath the covers, slick with sweat and the remnants of your passion.

you sighed softly, feeling the stickiness of your skin against his, a slight grimace tugging at your lips. “i need to take a shower,” you mumbled, half to yourself, your voice lazy and tired. “i hate feeling all sticky and clammy after... well, this. especially when i’m about to sleep.”

toji grunted in acknowledgment, his hand lazily running down your back. he didn’t say anything at first, just hummed as if he was contemplating letting you go. his grip on you tightened slightly, as if unwilling to let the warmth of your body leave his just yet. “a shower, huh?” he finally muttered, his voice gravelly and deep. “you sure you don’t wanna just sleep it off?”

you shook your head, chuckling softly. “no way. i’ll sleep better after. plus, you’re the one who’s all sweaty too,” you teased, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

he let out a soft huff of laughter, his chest rumbling beneath you as he rolled his eyes playfully. “yeah, yeah, ’m sweaty too. but i don’t mind it as much as you do,” he teased back, his fingers tracing light patterns down your spine. “you’re the one who always complains about feeling sticky and clammy. you’re such a princess.”

he shifted slightly beneath you, as if debating whether to let you go or not. “lemme join you, doll.”

you let out a sarcastic chuckle, the sound soft but filled with playful mockery. “oh, you’re funny, baby,” you mused, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze with an arched brow. “but no.”

you slid out of his hold slowly, feeling the cool air hit your skin as you sat up on his chest, straddling him. turning your head down slightly to glance at him, you added with a smirk, “besides, i can handle a shower on my own, tough guy. you can enjoy your sweaty self right here.”

toji's hands immediately found your hips, his grip firm as he chuckled at your cheeky rebuttal. “oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” he drawled, his eyes filled with amusement as he looked up at you. “you’re a tease, doll. you’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?”

he lifted his hips up slightly, his body pressing up against you, his desire clear against your thighs. “you sure you don’t want me to join you, princess?”

you nodded slowly, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as your fingers lightly traced the firm lines of his chest. “pretty sure,” you murmured, leaning down just a bit, your breath warm against his skin. “besides, i already know exactly what i do to you.”

your body, still bare, sat poised on his chest as you held his gaze with a teasing glint in your eyes. “but i’m still gonna shower alone,” you whispered, your hand pressing gently against his chest as if to keep him in place. “so, stay right here and be a good boy, yeah?” you added playfully, sliding off of him slowly, feeling his eyes on you as you stood up.

he watched you closely, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and playful annoyance as you slid off him. he let out a huff of resignation, reluctantly obeying your command and staying right where he was.

“you’re a cruel little thing, doll,” he muttered, his body relaxing back into the bed as he watched you. “but fine. i’ll be a good boy and wait for you.” he let his eyes roam over your naked body unabashedly, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“hurry back though,” he added, his eyes lingering on your curves as you started to move towards the bathroom. “don’t keep me waiting too long. the sheets are lonely without you, y’know.”

[littlelamy]

I got some thoughts spinning from seeing how Drew looks as Eugene in Queer with glasses and all. So Soft Nerdy Rafe request?  Very golden retriever-y, a bit shy and sweet. Maybe they are making out for the first time and….sweet nerdy rafe….switches up….not so shy. Ahhh it’s such a weakness when shy boys just become so forward, manly and give into their desires 💘🥹

a/n: AHHHHH! im so happy that you requested a nerd!rafe!!!!! i hope you like it ⭐️

the library was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights blending into the soft rustle of pages and distant murmurs. rafe cameron sat across from you, his glasses sliding down his nose as he frowned at the notebook in front of him. he was chewing on the edge of his thumb, a nervous habit you’d grown fond of, though it made you wonder if he realized how obvious he was being.

“you’re gonna wear your skin raw if you keep doing that,” you teased, nudging his foot under the table.

he looked up, startled, like you’d caught him mid-crime. “oh. right. sorry.” he dropped his hand, fiddling with his pen instead. “i’m just—this doesn’t make sense. none of it makes sense. why is calculus even a thing?”

you smiled, leaning forward to peek at his notes. his handwriting was neat, but his equations were a jumbled mess, arrows pointing in all directions. “you’re overthinking it,” you said, your voice soft. “here, look. you just forgot to carry the one.”

rafe groaned, his head falling onto the table with a dramatic thud. “i’m hopeless.”

“you’re not hopeless.”

“i am. you should just give up on me now.” his words were muffled by the wood, but you could still hear the pout in his voice.

“rafe.”

he peeked up at you, his cheek smushed against the table. “what?”

“you’re adorable when you’re dramatic, but you’re not hopeless.”

his face flushed a deep red, and he sat up quickly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m not adorable,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“you are,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “but if you really want to prove me wrong, maybe stop staring at my lips and focus on your math.”

his eyes went wide, his ears turning pink. “i wasn’t—I wasn’t staring at your lips!”

“you were,” you said, smirking. “it’s okay, though. i don’t mind.”

he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “you don’t?”

“nope.”

the air between you shifted, the tension palpable now. rafe’s gaze flicked to your lips again, this time more deliberate, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.

“you know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you could just kiss me instead of acting like you’re solving a physics problem.”

his jaw dropped, and for a second, you thought he might actually combust. “i—i could?”

you laughed softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “come here, rafe.”

he stood slowly, his movements awkward and unsure, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. when he rounded the table and slid onto the bench beside you, his knee bumped yours, and he froze, looking at you with wide, anxious eyes.

“is this… okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“more than okay,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

he hesitated for a moment longer, then leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most tentative kiss you’d ever experienced. his hands hovered near your waist, not quite touching, like he wasn’t sure where they belonged.

you deepened the kiss, your hand moving to his cheek, and he made a small, needy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, his hands settled on your hips, his grip uncertain at first but growing firmer as the kiss went on.

his lips were warm and slightly chapped, moving against yours in a rhythm that was both clumsy and endearing. but as the moments stretched, something shifted.

rafe pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and hunger. “is this… is this okay?” he asked again, his voice trembling.

“yes, rafe,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair.

that seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. when he kissed you again, it wasn’t tentative or shy—it was bold, almost desperate. his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the edges of your ribs, and his body pressed closer to yours, eliminating the small space that had existed between you.

you gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, his confidence growing with each passing second. his glasses slipped down his nose again, but he didn’t seem to care, too focused on the way your lips moved against his.

“you’re so… perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and husky now, a far cry from the nervous stammering he’d started with.

your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “you’re not so shy anymore.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his glasses crooked and his lips kiss-swollen. “guess you bring it out of me,” he said, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

“oh, so now you’re cocky?”

“maybe a little.” his grin widened, and he leaned in again, his lips finding yours with renewed fervor.

the kiss grew hungrier, his hands exploring more boldly now. one slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, while the other found the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

you let out a soft moan, and he responded with a low groan that vibrated against your lips. it was like a switch had flipped—gone was the shy, bumbling rafe, replaced by someone who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.

his tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for permission, and when you parted them, he deepened the kiss with a confidence that made your head spin.

“God,” he muttered, his voice breathless. “you’re incredible.”

you were too dazed to respond, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

time seemed to blur, the world outside the library fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on yours and the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your palm.

when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, his glasses fogged up, and his sweater slightly askew. “sorry,” he said, though the satisfied grin on his face suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

“for what?” you asked, still catching your breath.

“for not doing that sooner.”

you laughed, pulling him in for another kiss. “you’re such a dork.”

“your dork,” he murmured against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“yeah,” you said, your voice soft. “mine.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[diamonddaze01]

Love: Best Served Hot

pairing: chef! kmg x gn!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, slice of life wc: 2.7k

summary: even when he’s exhausted, mingyu wants to care for you. 

a/n: this was supposed to be a 300 word drabble idk what happened // i love chef mingoo!!

The door creaks open, releasing a gust of chilly air that carries with it the rich, savory aroma of sautéed garlic and fresh spices. The warm glow of the kitchen lights flicker to life as Mingyu steps inside, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his hair slightly tousled from a long shift. He kicks off his shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and stretches his arms overhead, letting out a dramatic sigh that echoes through the apartment.

“Guess who’s here to save your taste buds!” he announces, though the weariness in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders tells a different story.

You look up from your phone, a grin spreading across your face. “Don’t you ever get tired of cooking, Gyu?” you tease, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, the familiar warmth of the kitchen enveloping you.

He feigns offense, placing a hand on his chest as if you’ve just insulted his entire culinary career. “For you? Never. I’m making you gourmet ramen from scratch. The kind that makes you forget your ex. Trust me; it’s a glow-up for your palate.”

“You said that yesterday about the ribs,” you point out, watching him glide across the kitchen with practiced ease. The overhead lights cast a soft halo around his figure, and the way his hair flops into his eyes adds an adorable charm to his focused expression. “And the kimchi jjigae last week, and the burgers the time before that.”

“Shhhh.” He reaches around you for a cutting board, dropping a soft kiss on your lips to silence you. The warmth of his lips lingers as he pulls back, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ve never met someone who complains so much about getting wined and dined.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms with a mock pout. “I’m not complaining; I’m just keeping you accountable. I need to know if your cooking is really as good as you claim.”

Mingyu laughs, a rich, warm sound that fills the kitchen and dances around you; it makes your heart sing a little, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “If you’re so worried about it, maybe you should just let me cook in peace.”

As he focuses on the task at hand, the slight sheen of sweat forming on his brow catches the kitchen's light, his movements slowing just a fraction. His fingers are steady but the small tremor in his hands gives away just how long he's been on his feet. He brushes his hair back with a frustrated tug, eyes closing briefly as if savoring a second of relief before diving back into the task. It’s in these small, unguarded moments you realize just how worn he is—the dark circles under his eyes, the set of his shoulders that normally stand so proud, now sagging ever so slightly. But even through the exhaustion, there’s a determination in him, the same kind you’ve come to recognize every time he puts your needs before his own.

“Hey,” you say, your voice softening. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break? You’ve been on your feet for hours.”

He glances over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “And what, exactly, have you eaten today, hmm?”

“Uh…” You falter, feeling a familiar flush of embarrassment creeping in.

“Here, let me help you.” He sets down the knife and taps his foot expectantly, whisk in hand. “Knowing you, you probably just subsisted on iced lattes all day because you were too busy to get a real meal, right?”

You huff, your indignation flaring. “I’ll have you know that I had a Pop-Tart and a bag of Skittles! Those are major food groups, you know.”

Mingyu bursts into laughter, but you catch a glimpse of concern flickering behind his playful facade. “Riiiiight,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So now, you’re going to shut up and watch your gorgeous, incredibly talented, hot chef boyfriend make you a meal that has an actual vegetable in it.”

He gets like this sometimes, when he's frustrated that you don't take care of yourself. It’s been a cause for many an argument in the past—his insistence that you need to eat and your stubbornness that you know how to take care of yourself. Those conversations often swirl around the kitchen like a storm, but there’s a gentleness in the way he brushes off your concerns that tells you he cares deeply, even if he masks it with humor.

You watch him chop vegetables, let yourself get lulled into dreamlike trance with the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board. He moves with precision, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration as he glances over to check your expression. His dedication tugs at your heartstrings, a reminder of how he loves: by placing food in front of you even when he’s on the brink of falling asleep standing up. You’ve learned that his love language isn’t just about the meals he makes; it’s in the way he basks in the glow of your compliments, how your smile lights up his tired eyes like a spark in the dark.

You take a step closer, your fingers absentmindedly grazing the cool countertop, the warmth of the kitchen offering little comfort against the concern gnawing at you. It’s moments like these that make your heart ache —the way he pushes himself, never stopping until he’s done taking care of everyone else, even when he should be the one resting. A small, tight knot forms in your chest as you watch him, the way his brow furrows with each precise chop, his body moving with a practiced ease that can’t fully mask the heaviness of his fatigue. You wish you could stop him, take over for once, but you know he wouldn’t allow it. Still, you try to lighten the mood. 

“You know, you could just let me make dinner once in a while,” you offer, though your voice softens with unspoken worry.

He shakes his head, a grin breaking through his feigned annoyance. “And ruin my masterpiece? Never.”

The way he leans into the task, the sheer determination on his face, makes you fall in love with him a little more each day. It’s not just the food—it’s the way he pours his heart into everything he does, even when it means sacrificing his own comfort for yours. You can see it in the way his shoulders relax when you compliment his cooking, how he laughs more easily when you’re around, and how the corners of his eyes crinkle with joy when you taste something he’s prepared.

“I just want you to eat something real, not just sugar and caffeine,” he continues, a hint of worry creeping into his tone, finally letting his humorous facade fall for a second.  “I can’t have you turning into a human-sized Skittle.”

You can’t help but laugh at the image, feeling the tension of the day slip away. “I’ll have you know that I’d be a delicious  human-sized Skittle, thank you very much.”

He rolls his eyes playfully but then yawns again, the gesture drawing your concern back to the surface. “See? That right there—no more yawning until you’ve eaten something substantial, got it?”

He feigns a mock salute, but you can see the hint of exhaustion etched across his features. “Okay, okay, Captain Concerned. I promise I’ll eat something as soon as this ramen is ready. Just… give me a minute.”

You nod, the sincerity behind his words warming you. As he stirs the bubbling broth, you can’t help but admire the way his brow furrows in concentration, how he occasionally glances your way to ensure you’re still there, still watching.

“Alright, but you’d better not fall asleep in front of the stove,” you tease gently, your voice light but your heart heavy with concern.

He nods, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. “No promises,” he retorts playfully, but the warmth in his gaze tells you that he appreciates your worry, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Just keep your gorgeous, incredibly talented hot chef boyfriend awake, alright?” he says, a teasing lilt returning to his voice.

You can’t help but smile, feeling your affection for him grow in the warmth of the kitchen, surrounded by the scents of his hard work. “Deal. But you’d better make that ramen quick, or I might just have to find a way to fuel you with caffeine and Skittles.”

The kitchen hums with quiet, the only sounds coming from the bubbling broth and the soft scrape of Mingyu’s knife on the cutting board. You don’t need to fill the space with conversation; just being there, your silent presence, is enough. It’s always been enough for him. After a long day of being barked at on the line, of rushing orders and chaos, this is what he craves—your calm support, your quiet companionship. You don’t need to ask him how his day was; the tension in his shoulders, the way he brushes his hair back in frustration, tells you everything.

You watch as he works, each movement slow but precise, his exhaustion barely hidden beneath the surface. And still, even in his fatigue, there’s a quiet grace in how he prepares your meal—chopping vegetables, whisking broth, his fingers moving with the kind of ease that only comes from years of practice. He flicks the pan to stir the ingredients and adds garnish with a flourish—and looks over at you for validation.

Even though you’ve seen him do this hundreds of times, you still smile when he meets your eyes.  It’s a dance you’ve perfected: him cooking, you watching, the back-and-forth that fills the space between you. It’s more than just food—it's the way he pours himself into each meal, hoping to see that spark of happiness in your eyes, that subtle nod of approval that tells him, once again, that he's done well, that you love what he’s made. And it never fails—you always smile, and in that moment, it’s like he’s won an award.

“That was slick,” you murmur with a grin, watching his tired eyes light up like you’ve just given him a standing ovation. 

In return, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, gentle and warm. “Only for you,” he whispers, but you know it’s true. It’s in the way he offers you spoonfuls of broth to taste, holding the spoon up to your lips, watching carefully for your reaction. When you hum in satisfaction, the tension in his shoulders eases, his tiredness momentarily forgotten.

Every compliment you give is met with a kiss—sometimes on your lips, sometimes on your nose, sometimes just a gentle press to your forehead. You know that this is his love language, this silent back-and-forth of care, and it’s how you love him, too. Just being here, watching him, letting him unwind at his own pace. You don’t need to talk for him to know you’re there, supporting him. He knows you’re here, watching him, feeling the weight of his exhaustion, without needing to say it. It’s in the way you linger nearby, always close but never overbearing, allowing him to move at his own pace. Sometimes, just your presence is enough to ease the weight of the world on his shoulders, the sound of your breathing in sync with his, the gentle hum of the kitchen filling the gaps. 

You sit at the counter, content to let him work in silence, knowing he’ll fuss if you hover too much. But, true to form, he turns around every now and then, his eyes narrowing like he’s assessing the situation. “You’re going to eat, too, right? Not just stare at me?”

“Obviously,” you tease, though the warmth in your chest says otherwise. He’s tired, you can see it in the way he brushes his hair back, but still, his concern is always you—making sure you’ve eaten something other than sugar and caffeine all day. “I had a Pop-Tart, remember? And Skittles,” you add.

He rolls his eyes, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Yes, of course, the epitome of gourmet food. You need actual food, not whatever sugar rush you’ve been riding on.” There’s a playful tilt to his voice, but beneath it, the care is genuine, the worry etched into his furrowed brow. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can feel it in every movement, in the way he insists on feeding you something real, even when he’s on the brink of exhaustion.

When the ramen is finally done, the kitchen smells like a cozy hug, and he brings the steaming bowl over with a satisfied smile, his usual swagger dimmed slightly by the long hours he's endured. But instead of sitting down at the table, you slide onto his lap. His arms wrap around your waist without hesitation, pulling you closer, his body melting against yours in a sigh that carries all the weight of the day. You can feel the tension leave his shoulders, the stress ebbing away as you press yourself against him. 

“Eat,baby,” he murmurs, pushing the bowl toward you. But when you don’t immediately take a bite, he reaches for the chopsticks, bringing the noodles to your lips himself.

You chuckle softly, but he’s serious, his eyes fixed on you as you take the first bite. “Good?” he asks, as if he isn’t already sure of the answer.

You nod, chewing slowly, savoring the warmth that spreads through you. “Perfect.”

Satisfied, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, but before he can relax completely, you grab the chopsticks from his hand and lift a bite of ramen to his lips. “Your turn,” you say, watching as his expression softens.

He laughs under his breath but doesn’t protest, taking the bite with a small nod of approval. “Good,” he hums, his voice lower now, sleepier. But as tired as he is, he still won’t stop fussing, making sure you take another bite, and another, before he lets himself have one too.

The silence between you is comfortable, filled only by the occasional murmur of approval or the clink of chopsticks against the bowl. Every time you compliment the ramen, he preens a little, leaning in to press another kiss to your cheek, your nose, your lips. And with every bite, you fall a little more in love—not with the food, but with him, with the way he cares for you in the smallest, quietest ways. Even when he’s exhausted, even when he should be the one resting, he’s still making sure you’re taken care of, that you’ve eaten, that you’re loved. And that’s how you know he loves you—because he can’t help but put you first, even when his eyes are heavy with sleep.

You sit there, nestled in his lap, feeding him and being fed, the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of the kitchen. This is how you love him—by just being here, letting him rest in the silence, your presence enough to soothe him after a long day. And in return, his way of loving you is by feeding you, taking care of you even when he’s exhausted. No words are needed; the quiet between you speaks volumes.

“You don’t have to always do this, you know,” you whisper, your fingers gently tracing the edge of the bowl. The ramen is long gone, and he’s running his fingers up your arm, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Take care of me, I mean.”

Mingyu’s chuckle rumbles in his chest, the vibration sending a warm ripple through your body. “It’s not about having to. I want to,” he says simply, his voice low and sincere. “Besides, you’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Someone has to make sure you eat.”

You can’t help but laugh, even though you feel a lump forming in your throat. His love is always like this—quiet, unspoken, wrapped in the warmth of small actions rather than big words. It’s in the way he insists on feeding you, the way he pulls you closer when he’s tired but still makes sure you’re taken care of.

“I love you,” you whisper, almost instinctively, the words slipping out before you even realize.

He doesn’t respond right away, but you can feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, his arms drawing you closer as if he’s pulling you into the very core of him. Then, softly, so softly you almost miss it, he presses a kiss to your hair and murmurs, “I love you, too.”

[expia]

creepy boyfie yuta!!! [ I love yandere yuta ☺️☝️]

Creepy boyfie!yuta who makes you stay on ft with him all day if you can’t see each other

Creepy boyfie!yuta who “jokingly” talks about locking you in his basement if you ever leave

Creepy boyfie!yuta who put up secret cameras in your apartment just so he can keep an eye on you

Creepy boyfie!yuta who texts you to ask wyd knowing damn well he’s stalking the cameras

Creepy boyfie!yuta who is more interested in watching you instead of the movie on date nights

Creepy boyfie!yuta who you don’t even think is creepy yes insecure and maybe unhealthily obsessed but not creepy

It was a quiet, cozy evening in Y/N’s apartment, the kind where the world outside could’ve been a million miles away. The lights were dimmed, and the only source of illumination came from the TV screen, flickering with the opening credits of a rom-com Y/N had been dying to watch.

Y/N was nestled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, with a bowl of popcorn resting on her lap. Yuta sat beside her, casually draped in a hoodie and sweatpants, his arm resting along the back of the couch behind her, just a little too close—though Y/N didn’t mind. She loved it when he was close.

“So, this movie’s supposed to be really cute, right?” Y/N said with a smile, glancing over at Yuta, who was already watching her, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“Yeah, but not as cute as you,” Yuta replied smoothly, nudging her lightly. His voice had that tender, teasing quality she adored.

Y/N rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “You’re so corny.”

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. “But you love it.”

The movie began, and the two of them settled in, comfortable in the silence, only interrupted by the occasional giggle from Y/N or a quiet comment from Yuta about the movie's predictability.

But, in the middle of a particularly dramatic scene, Yuta suddenly stood up.

“I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom,” he said, stretching a little too dramatically, as if to draw attention to his exit.

Y/N didn’t think anything of it. She was far too engrossed in the movie’s over-the-top romance to notice anything odd. “Okay, hurry back. I’m about to see how this one ends!”

Yuta smiled softly, his eyes narrowing for a split second as he turned away. He had something else in mind.

As he stepped out of the living room, he made his way down the hall to where his phone was charging on the nightstand. His fingers hovered for a moment before unlocking the screen.

There it was.

The hidden camera feed he had set up earlier that week—four small, discreet lenses placed around her apartment, capturing every corner of the living room. He never let her know about them, of course. She’d never suspect something so intrusive, especially when he’d always been so sweet and loving.

Yuta’s heart rate picked up as he clicked through the various feeds on his phone. On the screen, he could see her sitting on the couch, staring intently at the TV, popcorn resting idly in her lap, her expression one of pure joy as she watched the movie.

Yuta couldn’t help but grin. He liked watching her like this. He liked seeing how relaxed and content she was, how at peace.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her—it was more that he simply wanted to always be part of her world. Even when he wasn’t physically there beside her, he wanted to be sure she was happy, safe, and… all his.

With a soft sigh, he leaned back against the wall, watching the feed for a little longer, his eyes flicking from one camera to the other. Her every movement, every shift of her posture, was like a personal performance meant just for him. He adored it.

He let the feeling of possessive affection settle inside him, but not in a way that felt bad—just in the way lovers might feel when they can’t imagine life without the other. In his mind, they were already living their perfect future, and this was just a small part of it.

[moonselune]

I loved your one for the girlies! What do you think each of the guy’s favourite kisses to give and receive are generally? Ty!!

Okay I ended up making these ficlets because they ended up being too cute ! Thank you for your support !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The quiet of the library was broken only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional muttering of incantations. Gale, deeply engrossed in an abstract spell, was lost in his work. His face illuminated by the flickering light of the candles scattered across the table, casting shadows that danced across his features. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he manipulated the weave, his fingers moving with practiced precision.

You, on the other hand, had been watching him from a nearby chair, your gaze fixed on his focused expression. You couldn’t help but smile at how absorbed he was in his spellcasting.

Quietly, you slipped off your chair and approached him, your footsteps light and nearly silent. As you neared, you leaned in close, just enough for your breath to brush against his ear. Without a word, you pressed a quick, teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, your lips barely grazing his skin before you pulled away.

The effect was immediate and unmistakable. Gale’s spell faltered, his hand momentarily freezing mid-motion. His eyes widened as he turned his head, his focus shifting from the intricacies of magic to the unexpected interruption. His lips parted in surprise, and he looked at you with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Really?” he said, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You know how much I hate it when you do that.”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across your face. “What can I say? I like seeing you get flustered.”

Gale set aside his spell components with a dramatic flourish, the frustration evident in his movements. His expression shifted from irritation to determination, and he pushed away from the table with a sense of urgency. He straightened his tunic, his gaze locked on you as if you were the most important thing in the room.

“You know,” he said, his voice taking on a teasing tone as he began to walk towards you, “I believe you owe me a proper kiss for that little stunt.”

You started to back away playfully, your laughter a soft, musical sound that echoed through the room. “Oh, do I now?”

Gale’s steps quickened as he pursued you, his usual grace turned into a purposeful stride. His eyes, normally so focused on the arcane, were now filled with a playful intensity. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm as he closed the distance between you.

Finally, he caught up to you, his hands gently cupping your face. The teasing glint in his eyes was replaced by a genuine, tender affection.

“You’ve made me wait long enough,” he said, his voice softening. “Now, how about that kiss you owe me?”

Before you could respond, Gale leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both passionate and impatient. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. His fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his earlier frustration melting into a deep, consuming affection.

When he finally pulled away, his breath mingling with yours, he looked at you with a satisfied smile. “See? That’s much better,” he murmured.

You chuckled, feeling a warm glow spread through you. “I’m glad you think so.”

Gale’s expression softened as he gazed at you, the playful edge replaced by a tender smile. “You always manage to get the best of me,” he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You rested your forehead against his, savoring the closeness. “And you always manage to make me feel special.”

Gale’s smile widened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a comforting warmth. “That’s because you are special to me. More than you know.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

As night fell, the soft glow of lanterns cast gentle shadows across the room you and Astarion shared. The air was filled with a quiet intimacy, the kind that settled over you both after a long day. The bed was invitingly rumpled, the sheets disheveled from the evening’s earlier activities. You had just finished preparing for bed, and Astarion, ever the nocturnal creature, was lounging with a book, his pale fingers tracing the edges of the pages.

“Astarion,” you said softly, your voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. “I’m heading to bed, but I see you’re still enjoying your book.”

Astarion looked up from his reading, his crimson eyes meeting yours with an almost theatrical nonchalance.

“Yes, well, some of us have a penchant for late-night reading,” he replied, his tone both playful and dismissive. “Sleep is highly overrated, don’t you think?”

You chuckled softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Suit yourself,” you said, your fingers brushing against his cool skin. “But I just wanted to give you a goodnight kiss before I go to sleep.”

Astarion’s expression flickered with something unreadable, but you knew better than to be deceived by his mask of indifference. You leaned in, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin at the top of his ear. The kiss was light, barely more than a whisper of touch, but it had a profound effect on him.

The moment your lips made contact with his ear, Astarion’s breath hitched ever so slightly. His body tensed, and for a brief moment, he closed his eyes as if savoring the sensation. His usual composed demeanor wavered, and he struggled to maintain his dramatic bravado. He set the book aside with an almost exaggerated flourish, his fingers gripping the edge of the cover as though it were a lifeline.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, attempting to regain his usual poise. “How very… touching of you.”

You could see through his attempt at nonchalance, the way his cheeks flushed a soft pink, a rarity for him. He tried to mask his reaction with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, but the slight quiver of his lips and the way he tried to suppress a grin betrayed him.

“It’s a favorite of mine,” you teased gently, your hand lingering on his shoulder. “I think it’s your favorite too.”

Astarion’s eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and vulnerability. He tried to look away, but the soft glow of the lanterns highlighted the way his usually sharp features had softened.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “But, I suppose I do appreciate the gesture.”

You leaned closer, resting your forehead against his for a moment. “Goodnight, Astarion,” you whispered, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hesitated for a second before reaching up to gently cup your face in his hands, his touch tender despite his attempt to appear aloof. “Goodnight, my dear,” he said softly, his voice betraying a hint of genuine affection.

As you left the room to head to bed, you glanced back to see Astarion still sitting there, his eyes following you with a look of wistful admiration. The book lay forgotten on his lap, his attention clearly diverted. It was a small victory, but one that brought a smile to your lips.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The bustling market was alive with vibrant colors and sounds. Stalls were lined with exotic goods, and the air was thick with the mingling aromas of street food. The lively chatter of vendors and shoppers created a lively symphony that filled the open space. You and Wyll wandered through the market together, enjoying the array of wares and the lively atmosphere.

Wyll was particularly animated as he perused the various stalls, his gaze darting between the different items on display. His enthusiasm was evident in the way he examined trinkets and listened to the vendors' pitches. You found yourself smiling at his genuine excitement, his joy a comforting and familiar sight.

As you strolled through the market, you couldn’t help but notice how Wyll's focus was fully absorbed in his surroundings. His attention was so directed that he barely noticed the playful glint in your eyes. You decided it was the perfect moment to indulge in a little mischief.

You gently took his hand in yours, guiding him to a quieter corner of the market where the noise and bustle were slightly muted. Wyll glanced at you, a curious look on his face. Before he could say anything, you leaned in close, your lips brushing lightly against the corner of his jaw. The kiss was tender and teasing, lingering just enough to stir something in him but leaving him wanting more.

The effect was immediate and noticeable. Wyll’s breath hitched slightly, and he shifted his weight, a subtle flush creeping up his neck. His eyes, which had been so focused on the market, now softened as he looked at you with a mix of surprise and longing. He tried to maintain his composure, but there was a distinct shift in his demeanor—a mixture of frustration and desire that was palpable.

“You… you’re quite the tease,” he said, his voice coming out a bit more breathless than usual. His hand, still clasped around yours, tightened slightly, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your palm. You smiled innocently, enjoying the reaction you elicited.

“Just giving you a little something to look forward to,” you said, your voice soft and playful.

Wyll’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, and he tried to keep his gaze steady, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts. He took a deep breath, attempting to regain his composure.

“You know, you’re making it rather difficult to focus,” he said with a wry smile. His voice was a mix of amusement and frustration, his eyes following your every movement with a renewed intensity.

You could see the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw tightened slightly, his internal struggle evident. He was clearly trying to maintain his gentlemanly demeanor, but the kiss had left him visibly pent up and yearning. The way he looked at you with those smoldering eyes spoke volumes about his suppressed desire.

You gave him a reassuring squeeze of his hand, savoring the way he responded to your touch.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable,” you teased, leaning in to press another quick, teasing kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

Wyll let out a soft, almost frustrated sigh, the sound barely audible over the market noise. He looked at you with a playful yet yearning expression.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” he said, though his voice carried a hint of affection.

You laughed softly, enjoying the effect you had on him. “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

He smiled, a mixture of admiration and impatience in his eyes. “I suppose not.”

As you continued to wander through the market, Wyll’s demeanor remained a bit more reserved, his mind clearly preoccupied with thoughts of you. The playful kiss had left him in a state of eager anticipation, and despite his best efforts to focus on the market, you could tell he was counting down the moments until you could be alone together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The camp was alive with the gentle hum of evening activity. Lanterns cast a soft glow over the scene as the day's tasks wound down. The scent of roasting meat mingled with the crisp evening air, and the crackling of the fire provided a steady rhythm to the background noise.

Halsin was deep in conversation with a few other members of the group, discussing the next day's plans. His tall form stood out among the others, his presence both commanding and calming. You were busy organizing supplies, focusing on ensuring everything was in order for the night. The two of you had been moving about, caught up in your respective duties, but you hadn’t lost sight of each other.

As you passed by Halsin, who was still deeply engaged in his discussion, you seized the opportunity to indulge in one of his favorite little moments. With a playful smile, you reached out and pressed a light kiss to the side of his shoulder, just above the sleeve of his tunic. It was a tender, fleeting gesture, one you knew he particularly enjoyed.

The effect was immediate. Halsin's conversation faltered for a split second as the touch registered. His gaze softened, and he excused himself, his arm instinctively reaching out to you. Before you could fully process his reaction, you felt his strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against him with a gentle but firm embrace.

You barely had time to react before Halsin’s lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, his breath warm and tickling against your skin. His hold was both comforting and possessive.

"Always distracting me, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble filled with affection. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath creating a shiver that ran down your spine. You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

"Just keeping you on your toes," you replied, your voice playful but tender.

Halsin’s lips traveled to your collarbone, leaving gentle kisses that made you feel cherished. He nuzzled into your neck, his touch both soothing and electrifying. His arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer, as if he wanted to ensure you were entirely within his grasp.

“You have a way of making it impossible to concentrate,” he said, though there was no real frustration in his tone—just a deep, contented sigh. He leaned back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a soft, adoring gaze. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”

Halsin’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “Mind? How could I?” he said, his voice warm and full of sincerity. “You have a way of making everything better, even when you’re just walking by.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. “I suppose I’ll have to keep up the distraction, then.”

Halsin grinned, his gaze lingering on you with an unmistakable affection. “Please do. It’s the highlight of my day.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

In the dimly lit study, Rolan was deeply engrossed in his research. The soft glow of the lantern cast shadows on the walls, flickering as he turned the pages of an ancient tome. His focus was so intense that he barely noticed you approaching, a warm smile on your face as you prepared to head out to the market.

You walked over to him, the rustling of your clothes barely registering in his concentration. Gently, you placed a kiss on his forehead, your lips lingering for a brief moment as you wrapped your hands around his horns, holding them gently. The affectionate gesture was something Rolan cherished, and he always felt a wave of calm wash over him when you did it. It was as if, in those moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you.

As you pulled back, intending to leave, you heard a subtle rustling from below. Looking down, you saw Rolan’s tail curling around your ankle, its grip firm yet playful. His head remained bent over his book, but a mischievous glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t as absorbed as he appeared.

“Please don’t go just yet,” Rolan murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of reluctance and affection. The tail tugged you gently, as if trying to anchor you in place.

You chuckled softly, kneeling beside him. “Why not come with me to the market?” you suggested, giving his tail a gentle nudge. “It’ll be more fun with you there.”

Rolan looked up from his book, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“Well, I could magic up some food for us, save us the trip,” he said, a hint of playful defiance in his tone. You raised an eyebrow, remembering the last time he tried to do just that.

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, a note of exasperation in your voice. “Last time you did that, we ended up with a bunch of mud mephits in the kitchen for a week. It was chaos.”

Rolan’s eyes widened with genuine amusement at the recollection. He sighed dramatically, closing his book with a soft thud.

“Fair point,” he admitted, his tail loosening its grip. “Those mephits were quite the nuisance.”

With a resigned smile, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening as he watched you.

“Alright, go enjoy your market trip. But don’t be gone too long,” he said, his voice gentle and tinged with longing. “I’ll be waiting here, all on my lonesome.”

You stood up, giving his horns one last affectionate caress before turning to leave. As you walked towards the door, you glanced back to see Rolan’s gaze following you, a mix of longing and warmth in his eyes.Before you fully exited, you turned with a playful grin.

“If you’re good, I might bring you a treat,” you said, giving him a wink. Rolan’s tail gave a contented flick as he watched you leave.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he called after you, his voice carrying a note of affectionate amusement.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Raphael:

The House of Hope was bathed in a golden twilight, the soft light filtering through the ornate windows and casting intricate patterns on the floor. The air was filled with the lingering warmth of the day, a gentle contrast to the briskness of the evening breeze outside. You had just finished a conversation with Raphael, and as you glanced at the clock, you realized you were running late to meet someone important.

With a quick, affectionate gesture, you moved towards Raphael, leaning in to press a swift, tender peck to his lips. The kiss was meant to be fleeting, a simple goodbye as you hurried out. You had barely pulled away when Raphael’s eyes flashed with a mischievous glint.

In one smooth motion, he reached out and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him with a sudden, unexpected force. His lips found yours again, this time with a deeper, more intense pressure. You gasped softly at the sudden shift, your initial surprise quickly replaced by a mixture of frustration and delight.

Raphael’s lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate passion, savoring the taste of your kiss as if he were drinking in the very essence of you. His hands roamed gently over your back, guiding you closer and deepening the kiss. You could feel his warm breath mingling with yours, and the sound of your soft, reluctant protests only seemed to spur him on further.

“Trying to leave so soon?” Raphael murmured between kisses, his voice a velvety whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “You wouldn’t want to upset me, would you?”

You tried to protest, though your words were muffled by the intensity of his kiss.

“Raphael, I… I really need to—” Your sentence trailed off into a breathless moan as he pressed closer, his lips brushing against yours with a teasing insistence.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “But I enjoy these moments with you far too much. Surely you can spare a little more time.”

Despite your rush, the way he kissed you—full of hunger and playful dominance—made it hard to pull away. His lips moved with a practiced grace, the kiss growing deeper and more consuming as you found yourself caught in the pleasure of the moment. You pouted against his mouth, your cheeks flushing as his hands settled on your face, holding you gently yet firmly.

You tried to remind yourself of your pressing appointment, but Raphael’s kisses were so captivating that it was nearly impossible to focus on anything but him. His hands continued their gentle exploration, making sure you felt every caress, every touch.

When he finally pulled away, it was only slightly, enough to rest his forehead against yours and gaze into your eyes with a mix of satisfaction and affection.

“There, now,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Wasn’t that worth the delay?”

You looked up at him, your own breath coming in soft, uneven puffs. Despite the frustration you felt, there was no denying the warmth spreading through you from his touch and the way he made you feel cherished and adored.

“You’re impossible,” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Raphael’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with a mix of triumph and affection. “And you’re mine. Now, go on—take care of your business. I’ll be waiting here, counting the moments until I see you again.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Some fluff to soothe our souls, I know that I've been doing a lot of Dark!BG3 recently so thought I would do something lighter, hope you enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[daenysx]

i wrote this at a psychology lecture almost five minutes ago so i'm not sure if it's any good, i still wanna share. enjoy! ♡

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff

remus is rubbing your back when you open your eyes from an afternoon nap.

you love the feeling of his long fingers pressing into your tender muscles gently. you can smell his cologne and cigarettes he smoked leaning from window. he turns a page of his book, his eyes are on the words but his hand focused only on you.

you move slowly, turning your back on bed to see remus. you try to give him a smile but sleep makes your movements sloppy. he puts his book aside to push your hair back, his eyes have the spark of contentment.

you snuggle into him like a cat. he lays back, pulls you gently on his tired body. you mumble something he can't hear, your unconcious hand stops on his abdomen. he kisses your hair, it's a mess but it smells like your shampoo.

"when did you come back?" you ask with a low voice, words melt between your lips.

"almost an hour ago, sweetheart." he answers. "you were fast asleep."

you stretch a little bit. "i was really tired."

"yeah?" remus asks sweetly. "how about now?"

your head feels numb from the heaviness of sleep. "i'm not sure." you say, burying your face to remus's neck. "i slept too much."

remus strokes the naked skin of your shoulder. you are almost about to fall asleep again, holding onto him. you don't know if you want to sleep though, you want to spend time with remus and you'd prefer doing it when you're conscious.

you try to lift your head to see him. remus looks like he is ready to fall asleep if you do, his body limp on bed. you touch his neck to maintain an eye contact, he obliges with his pretty eyes as he looks at you.

"kiss?" you ask, almost whispering. you lay back to pull remus on top of you and he moves like his movements are controlled by your brain. he smiles before leaning into you, giving you a sleepy kiss. he sucks on your bottom lip softly, you breathe his air. your hands cup his cheeks as his hands hold your waist to keep you under him tightly.

you like when he kisses you slow and confident, he's calm but he never fails to make you excited. you make a little sound when he breaks the kiss, he looks at you funnily.

"do you wanna go back to sleeping?" he asks, his lips curved into a fond smile.

you shake your head. "can we have some coffee?"

the words are still slow but you are waking up. you think you need a cup of caffeine from remus's hand, made by him. he knows what you want from the way your eyes get wider, the lovely expression on your face every time you need him to do something.

"of course we can." he replies coolly. "but you have to give me something in return."

your eyebrows rise, "like what?"

"i'll think about it." he says. "just decided i need some bribery."

you hold onto his neck. "what about a kiss?"

"one kiss is never enough." he says. "gotta have more than that."

you think for a moment, you love how his eyes shine when he's playing games. "okay." you say, reaching his forehead to stroke the soft skin and push his hair back. "what about a neck massage and lots of kisses?"

"mm-hmm." he kisses your neck with too much love. "yes."

"but if we don't get up now i might fall asleep again." you say, closing your eyes dramatically.

remus is quicker than you expect him to be. he extends you his hand to help you up and he carries you all the way to kitchen with your legs wrapped around his waist. you kiss him many many times on his cheeks on the way and he seems pleased with that.

you watch him prepare your coffees after he makes you sit on the counter gently. the comfortable silence covers the kitchen, the smell of coffee fills your senses. remus gives you yours in your favorite cup and you thank him.

he looks happy and calm under the last lights of the day that peaks through open window. you make sure to help him keep his smile on his pretty face.

[chlerc]

soft spot ; lando norris

— summary; being his academic rival doesn’t justify why he’s got a soft spot for you, but he does. and he finds himself giving you everything you wanted and if he could.

pairing — academic-rival-lando norris! x f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 1361.

content — he’s sharing his study notes with you because he wants you to do as well as he does though he’s sure you don’t need his notes because you’re really smart, like smarter than him. got him wrapped around your finger too!!!

NAVIGATION + author’s note: surprise surprise, we got educated lando norris can you believe it?? i'm joking!! i just thought this would be a cute thing to write about, old situationship-ish-kinda inspired lolol

song recs for this fic — soft spot.

Lando sat at his usual spot in the library, the steady hum of muted conversation floating through the air as he lazily twirled his pen, his textbook sprawled open before him. He scribbled half-hearted notes on the margins, his mind far from the equations in front of him. Across from him, she sat with an air of quiet determination, eyes focused, every gesture deliberate as she effortlessly worked through the problem set. There was a certain grace in the way she moved, her concentration almost tangible, and he couldn’t resist the urge to break the silence.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice low but tinged with amusement, though her eyes remained fixed on her work. The scratch of her pen was soft, almost rhythmic, as if even her distraction couldn’t break her focus.

He leaned back, a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Just wondering how many hours you'll spend on that before you realise I’m still ahead of you in class.” Her gaze flicked upward then, sharp and challenging, a subtle gleam in her eyes. “In your dreams, Norris. I’m just letting you think you’re ahead, so you don’t feel too bad when I crush you in finals.”

Lando’s smirk deepened, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. “Is that right? Because, if I remember correctly, I outscored you on the last mock exam.”

“By half a point,” she retorted smoothly, the gleam of competition still in her eyes, though a soft smile tugged at her lips. “And I was sleep-deprived.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, his voice laced with teasing. “Always an excuse with you.”

She arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly as if conceding, though her expression told him otherwise. “Not an excuse — just facts. You should get used to it, because next time, you won’t even come close.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, but beneath the playful façade, there was something else. He enjoyed these moments far more than he’d ever admit — the way they pushed each other, a constant dance between rivalry and something more tender, something unspoken. The tension between them hummed with an energy that was undeniable, though he’d convinced himself it was merely competition. Yet, no one else made him feel quite like she did.

And after every other gruelling lecture, she would pull him along on yet another one of her spontaneous convenience store runs. He trailed a step behind her, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his expression one of mock reluctance.

“Do you really need something this time, or are you just dragging me out for the fun of it?” Lando’s voice was laced with faux exasperation, though his gaze softened as it lingered on her.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, a knowing grin lighting up her face. “I like the company. Besides, I know you don’t mind.” His lips quirked into a smile he tried to hide. “I definitely mind,” he muttered, though his tone held no real conviction, and they both knew it.

“Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” she teased, her laughter ringing out softly as she reached for a snack on the shelf, tossing it into the basket. Her movements were effortless, as if these small, mundane moments were enough to make her day brighter. “You should be grateful I’m keeping you out of trouble. What would you even do without me?”

Lando leaned against the shelf, watching her with a smirk. “Probably live a quiet life. Go home, play video games in peace. Not have to deal with your very demanding schedule.” She laughed, a light sound that danced in the air between them. Nudging him with her shoulder, she shook her head. “Come on, you love it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replied, though the way his eyes lingered on her told a different story.

Later, on a night he would’ve sworn he’d never be caught in — under the dim lights of a club, with music vibrating through the walls — Lando found himself in his least favourite environment. The bass thrummed through the floor, and the crowd pulsed around him, but she was there, pulling him onto the dance floor with that irresistible smile.

“You really don’t dance, do you?” she teased, her voice barely audible over the music as she tugged him closer, her touch light but insistent. “I told you, I’m not a fan of this whole scene,” he muttered, his feet shuffling awkwardly, though his gaze never left her.

“And yet, here you are. For me,” she said, her smile widening as their bodies moved in sync, her laughter soft and sweet against the chaos of the music. He shook his head, feigning exasperation. “Only because you begged.”

“Begged?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she spun around, catching his gaze again. “Please, Norris, I didn’t beg. I knew you’d come.”

“And why’s that?” He has an eyebrow cocked up, smirk on his lips with his arms crossed. “Because you can’t say no to me.” Her voice was light, teasing, but the truth in her words hung between them, undeniable. He sighed, his hand slipping to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know,” she replied, her voice dropping just slightly, her eyes locking onto his. “And you secretly love it.” Lando chuckled softly, though there was no denying the way his heart stuttered in his chest at her touch. “Yeah, okay. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

But even as he said it, there was something deeper. He didn’t want to admit how much she got under his skin, how much she’d already wrapped him around her finger. She was his academic rival, the one who always challenged him, pushed him — but she was also the only one who made him feel like this, the only one who could shift his world so effortlessly.

And yet, there were nights when his world felt like it was tipping too far. His workload piled up, deadlines looming, and he found himself cancelling their study plans more often than not. But one evening, after cancelling yet another one, he showed up to her seminar unannounced, determined to make up for lost time.

She spotted him as soon as the seminar ended, her brows knitting together in confusion as she walked over to him. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you have, like, a ton of work?” He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, but I figured I’d spend time with you anyway.”

Her stern expression softened into something more amused. “You don’t have to come to my classes to prove a point, you know,” her hand running through his dirty brown strands. “I know.” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just… missed you.”

The teasing look in her eyes faltered for a second, replaced by something more tender, something unspoken between them. “Well, I missed you too, you idiot. But don’t think this gets you out of cancelling our last three study dates.” He laughed, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Fair enough. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better,” she replied, her face pressed against his chest, and for the first time in days, the weight on his shoulders felt just a little lighter. “Here’s the notes I collated from our recent classes.” He tosses her his notebook, decorated with sketches of different cars and though he never said it, sharing his notes with her was just a quiet way of showing her he cared. Because he had a soft spot for her.

But late at night, when the world fell quiet, Lando often found himself thinking of her, unable to sleep. She had become the constant in his life, the one who made him feel things he never thought possible. He didn’t want to fall in love — not really — but there she was, challenging everything he thought he knew. She didn’t ask for anything, but somehow, he found himself wanting to give her everything. 

And though he fought it, though he tried to convince himself that it was just rivalry, just competition — deep down, he knew. He was already hers.

[blbyena]

boyfriend!mark x reader

Fluff - 1,209 words

-

You pull the "Do you love me?" card on Mark

You glance at the matching keychains, and immediately feel a sense of excitement. They’re adorable, and the idea of matching them with Mark makes you smile. With a skip in your step, you turn and look around the store for him.

“Mark!” you call out, waving your hand as you spot him near the back, browsing through some jackets.

He looks up at you, a little distracted, before making his way over. “What’s up?” he asks, his voice light.

You hold up the keychain set with a big grin. “Look! Aren’t they so cute? I thought we could get them. We’d match!”

Mark glances at the keychains, then back at you, his expression turning slightly uncertain. “Uh… yeah, I mean, they’re okay, I guess.”

You raise an eyebrow, not quite ready to let it go. “What do you mean? They’re adorable! Don’t you think they’d be cute for us?”

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I’m definitely not matching with you with a keychain like that. I mean, it’s not bad or anything, but it’s just… not cute?.”

You sulk dramatically, pushing the keychains back onto the rack with a slight pout. “You’re being so mean! I thought it would be fun, but you don’t even want to match with me. It’s just a silly keychain, but no, you’re too cool for it.”

Mark watches you for a moment, his lips curling into a small smile. “Babe, I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just that—” He shrugs slightly. “It’s not my style, okay?”

You sigh loudly, crossing your arms. “It’s not fair! I just thought we could have something cute together, but whatever.” You tilt your head dramatically, glancing up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Guess I’ll just have to find someone else to match with.”

As Mark shakes his head and laughs, clearly not convinced about the keychains, you can’t help but put on your most irresistible puppy eyes, leaning slightly forward. “Please, Mark? They’re so cute!” you say, your voice soft and pleading.

Mark looks at you, but his expression is still firm. “I don’t know, baby. They’re not really my thing,” he says, giving a small shrug. “I just don’t think they’re that cute.”

You pout, not ready to give up just yet. You take a step closer, narrowing the gap between you two. “Come on, baby, please?” you say sweetly, your tone now laced with playful charm. “Just this once? For me?”

He tries to resist, but the sight of you so close to him, eyes wide and sparkling, clearly has an effect. You can see his resolve weakening, but he’s still holding his ground.

Not giving up, you shift tactics.

You take a deep breath and step closer to him, making sure to make your movements slow and deliberate. Your eyes lock onto his, and you flash him your most irresistible, pouty expression, the one you know drives him wild.

You huff softly, intertwining your hands with his gently. You inch closer, tilting your head ever so slightly as if you were genuinely heartbroken.

“Mark, Do you love me ?”you ask in the most innocent, sweet voice, eyes wide, as if the question is nothing more than a simple curiosity.

Mark freezes, blinking a few times as his eyes widen in disbelief. “Wait, you’re really pulling that card on me? You know I do…” he mutters, the words barely escaping his lips.

You innocently tilt your head, your lips curling into a small, teasing smile. “What card?” you ask, pretending to be clueless, your voice dripping with sweetness. “I’m just asking if you love your girlfriend.”

His heart starts racing a little, and you can see him fighting to keep his composure. The way you’re looking at him, the way you’re holding his hands, it’s hard for him to focus on anything else.

You take a step closer, letting your fingers graze against his chest lightly as you smile up at him, all charm and sweetness. “Well, if you love me,” you say, your voice dripping with affection and teasing, “you’d get them for me, wouldn’t you?”

Mark lets out a deep sigh, clearly trying to resist, but the way you’re looking at him is just too much. His lips part as if he’s going to say something, but the words just don’t come out. The puppy eyes are his kryptonite, and you know it.

“God, you’re impossible,” he finally mutters under his breath, his resolve completely shattered.

As Mark groans in defeat, he grabs the keychains from the shelf, still trying to act like he’s not completely charmed. “Fine, let’s get them,” he mutters, shaking his head as if he’s been completely overtaken. You can practically hear the smile in his voice despite his resistance.

You smile triumphantly, your eyes sparkling as you lean up to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, baby! I knew you’d come around.”

,you grab his hand and practically drag him toward the counter, your energy matching the happiness bubbling inside you.

He just shakes his head again, but the soft smile on his face tells you that, despite the teasing, he’s happy to have made you so happy.

-

hope you like this one!!

[accidentcache]

Step mom reader w dad Keigo !!! She’s not sure about it all but she sees him being a dad and she’s like yes I can do this I love him

hear me out !!!! adoptive parents !!!! tokoyami !!!!

you realized it before keigo did, but fumikage was spending a lot more time with the two of you. not just wanting to train or do paperwork or help him with homework or reports, but... just being in the same room with him as he's reading or scrolling through his phone, or talking about... anything.

your boyfriend loves to talk, so you indulge and let him talk the boy's ear off well into the night before you're rising from your chair and taking your wine glass to the kitchen.

you offer fumikage the spare room on your way back out, your movements easy and fluid. your hand is on his shoulder and you don't miss how the kid leans into your touch when you ruffle the top of his head affectionately. a warm smile spreads on your lips and you're calling over your shoulder as you walk down the hall to yours and keigo's shared bedroom; "babe, don't keep him up too long, both of you have patrol tomorrow!"

keigo slides into bed with you forty-five minutes later, sheepish grin on his lips and all. he's ready for you to scold him or something, since you were still up and awake when he finally came in, but the shy little expression melts to one of concern once he processes your own expression.

he can't tell what you're thinking. you don't look... pissed? but you also don't look excited or docile or sleepy. he has no idea how to approach asking you what's wrong until you're speaking up first, situating yourself under the duvet.

"you think the kid... chose us?"

keigo's brows knit together in confusion. he pauses in his action of leaning over to turn off the bedside light before turning to face you. "chose us?" he repeats, his voice low and perplexed.

you're already making yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. with an elbow propped up, chin in hand, keigo doesn't miss the little flash in your eyes as they meet his. there's so much said in just that small glimpse, but it seems to click in his brain.

"you think he's claimed us as like, his parents or something?"

you shrug slightly. "not actual parents obviously. but like," your free hand waves in the air for a slight dramatic effect, "adoptive parents?"

keigo's lips purse slightly. he never really thought of it much, how tokoyami latches on to any invitation the two of you offer for dinner or out to drinks or just any gathering. he loves hanging out with the kid, he really does. keigo's been enjoying watching fumikage grow up over the years, becoming more mature and stronger and climbing through the ranks.

"adoptive parents," he murmurs. he sits up in bed, slightly tilted towards his bedside light, partially facing towards you. his bare chest rises and falls steadily, calm and even.

and yeah, the conversation of kids has come up between the two of you before. the subject doesn't make him too uncomfortable anymore, he's been more open to the idea-- even if the two of you aren't actively trying for one of your own at the moment.

keigo switches off the light finally, shifting on his side of the bed until he's flush against you, an arm wrapping around your waist snugly. he hums at the warmth, his legs move to entangle with yours and a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.

he doesn't say much, it's not brought up again by either of you. but you certainly don't miss how keigo's eyes whip towards yours when tokoyami accidentally refers to him as 'dad' at the office a couple weeks later.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[daisymbin]

Hi!! this is my first request☺️, can you write about prompt no.20 "you can braid my hair if you want" with jeonghan and female reader🥲 *ijustmissmyhusband*

ofc!!! so sorry for the long wait 🥺

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hannie's m.list

fluff prompt #20: "you can braid my hair if you want."

jeonghan leaned against the mirrored wall of the practice room, watching you as you sat cross-legged on the floor, your focus entirely on the braid you were weaving into your hair. he smiled to himself, fascinated by the little furrow in your brow and how your fingers moved with ease.

“how do you do it?” he asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

you glanced at him through the mirror’s reflection, still working on your braid. “do what?”

“your hair. whatever you’re doing now. teach me.” he shifted closer, sitting beside you on the floor, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“you want me to teach you how to braid?” you asked, raising a brow but not stopping your hands.

“is that so strange?” he teased, tilting his head. “what if i want to impress someone someday?”

you snorted softly, finishing the braid and tying it off before turning to face him. “fine. watch carefully.”

he leaned forward as you patiently walked him through the steps, demonstrating in the mirror. but the moment he tried it himself, his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.

“no, jeonghan,” you sighed, watching as his hands twisted a chunk of hair in the wrong direction. “you’re not even trying!”

“i am!” he protested, though the smirk on his lips said otherwise.

after a few more failed attempts, you huffed dramatically, standing up. “move over,” you said, making him laugh as you sat behind him.

“okay,” you said, reaching for his hair. “i’ll guide you. hold this part—yes, like that. now take the left section and cross it over to the middle.”

jeonghan followed your instructions, the corners of his mouth quirking up as you occasionally grumbled under your breath.

“right section to the middle now,” you said, your tone more patient this time.

“like this?” he asked, deliberately fumbling to see your reaction.

you sighed, your fingers brushing against his as you adjusted his hold. “no, like this. seriously, how are you so bad at this?”

he chuckled, enjoying the way you were too focused to notice how close you were leaning in. “i’m not bad, you’re just a tough teacher.”

for a while, jeonghan followed your instructions diligently, his hair slowly starting to resemble something like a braid.

“see? you’re getting it!” you encouraged, sitting back a little.

but just as the braid was almost complete, jeonghan let go of his hair entirely, the carefully woven sections unraveling.

“jeonghan!” you gasped, eyes wide. “why did you do that? we were almost done!”

he turned to look at you, his grin nothing short of cheeky. “my hands got tired,” he said simply, shrugging.

you stared at him, dumbfounded. “you just had to tie it! that’s it! that’s all you had to do!”

he laughed, the sound warm and teasing, and reached up to ruffle his hair. “if it bothers you so much, then you do it.”

“me?” you blinked, pointing to yourself.

“yes, you,” he said, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head to give you a better view of his hair. “you can braid my hair if you want.”

you hesitated, your hands hovering awkwardly.

“go ahead. i’ll sit still this time. promise.” jeonghan encouraged; his tone light but his gaze soft.

something in his expression made you relax, and you rolled your eyes playfully before scooting closer. “fine. but no complaining if i pull too hard.”

as your fingers worked through his hair, jeonghan closed his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. he could feel the gentle tug of your hands, the way your movements were careful and precise, and it made his heart race in a way he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

“you’re really focused,” he murmured after a while, peeking at you through half-lidded eyes.

“because someone has to fix the mess you made,” you replied, but your tone was soft, teasing.

he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “you’re cute when you’re bossy, you know.”

you paused for a split second before shaking your head, continuing the braid without a word. but he didn’t miss the way your ears turned red.

when you finally tied off the braid and patted his shoulder, he turned to face you, his grin wide and playful. “so? how did i do?”

“you mean, how did i do,” you corrected, crossing your arms. “you didn’t even finish it yourself.”

“same same,” he said with a dismissive wave. then, softer, “thanks, though. it looks nice.”

you smiled, the tension from earlier melting away. “you’re welcome.”

as you started to gather your things, jeonghan leaned back against the wall, watching you with a fondness he didn’t bother to hide.

maybe he didn’t learn how to braid today, but he’d take any excuse to have you close—your hands in his hair, your voice guiding him, and your laugh filling the space between.

"are you coming?" your voice snapped him out of his daydream.

"where?" he asked, though the way he's also picking up his things showed he didn't really care.

"to dinner. im starving."

and if jeonghan had to mess up a hundred more braids to keep you by his side a little longer, well… he’d do it without hesitation. but dinner? with you? god yes.

[majinael]

final part of vulnerable

★michael kaiser x she/her pronouns reader (can be interpreted as GN)

★2,6k words

★part1 & part2 & part3 & part4

★songs associated : sweater weather & a little death

It wasn’t necessarily a shame, but somehow, neither of you ever mentioned what had happened that day.

Michael sat alone in his room, surrounded by the books he’d been too distracted to finish. As he closed the last one, his fingers brushed the cover, lingering for a moment before he leaned back in his chair. The silence felt heavy, pressing against him as his mind drifted.

Love? The thought almost made him scoff.

It was absurd. Unrealistic. Yet, there it was—a persistent weight beneath his arrogance, nagging at the edges of his thoughts.

But even if it was love, what was he supposed to do with it? How could someone like him ever make it something real?

The questions haunted him into the night, leaving him restless. By morning, they hadn’t disappeared. If anything, they’d only become sharper, digging into him as he walked toward the stadium.

Passing your office, he saw you through the glass. Another patient was with you, laughing at something you said. Your back was to Michael, but he could see the way your hands moved with practiced ease, the effortless care in your gestures.

His jaw tightened.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you work like this, your kindness extended to others in a way that had nothing to do with him. But today, it felt different. It clawed at him, sharp and unrelenting.

By the time he reached the field, frustration boiled over, spilling into every movement. His kicks were sharper, angrier, each strike of the ball echoing his unspoken irritation.

And then you appeared, as if on cue.

“Hello!”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Don’t you have patients to take care of?” His tone was biting, his gaze flicking to you with thinly veiled annoyance.

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m on a break.”

“Hm.”

He turned away, clearly intent on ignoring you, but you stepped closer, not one to be dismissed so easily.

“Something’s wrong,” you observed, your voice calm but firm.

When you grabbed his wrist to stop him, he tensed, glaring at you. “Let go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re insufferable,” he snapped. “and you’ve touched other idiots.”

A sharp laugh escaped you. “Jealous, Michael Kaiser?”

The way his name rolled off your tongue twisted something inside him. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing.

“No,” he muttered, his tone clipped. “It’s just disgusting.”

“I washed my hands.”

“I don’t care.”

“So you are jealous.”

“I’m not,” he said, though his tone betrayed him.

“You aaaare,” you teased, your grin widening.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

The challenge hung in the air, and before you could blink, he had closed the distance between you. His hands gripped your shoulders, and his lips crashed onto yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

When he pulled away, his expression was unreadable, a mix of frustration and something raw.

“Don’t test me,” he muttered before turning back to the field.

You stared after him, dazed. “You’re just… leaving?”

“That’s your punishment,” he called over his shoulder, his smirk returning.

“Oh no, however will I survive?” you said, placing a hand dramatically on your forehead.

For a moment, his chuckle was the only response before he threw himself back into training, his movements sharper than before.

The next day, sitting in the stands, you couldn’t help but notice the glint of the necklace you’d given him, the charm catching the light. It was subtle but unmistakable—a silent statement, one he didn’t need to put into words.

And when he scored his first goal, his sharp gaze darted to you in the stands, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Noel leaned over. “He’s really showing off today.”

I raised an eyebrow at his statement, curiosity flickering in my eyes, but before I could muster a response, he pressed on.

"I've seen you two together before."

A nervous laugh escaped me as I scratched the back of my neck, unease settling in. My mind raced, wondering when exactly he might have seen us—and what he had seen.

"You’re in love with him."

Heat rushed to my cheeks, spreading like wildfire as I let out another awkward chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”

“Painfully,” Noel replied, his tone certain.

By the end of the match, Michael made his way off the field, heading straight for you. His confidence was unshakable, but there was something in his gaze—something softer, more uncertain.

Before you could say a word, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against your cheek, the gesture lingering just long enough to make its meaning unmistakable. In full view of the team, the message was clear: You’re mine.

As Michael walked away, leaving a trail of tension in his wake, Noel turned to look at me. My face was a mess of heat and embarrassment, cheeks burning furiously as I sank deeper into the collar of my jacket, desperate to hide. Slumped in my seat, I avoided his gaze, praying the ground would swallow me whole.

After this long, exhausting day, I spent what felt like an eternity searching for him—an entire hour wandering aimlessly. Every step was weighed down by the gnawing suspicion that he was deliberately keeping out of sight, slipping into the shadows just beyond my reach. I found him sitting on the training stadium bleachers, alone, as the sky blushed into evening. His silhouette was sharp against the fading sunlight, his posture relaxed, but there was a stiffness in his shoulders I couldn’t ignore.

“Didn’t expect you here,” Michael said without turning, his voice low, tinged with fatigue.

I climbed the steps, sitting beside him, leaving just enough space for the silence to breathe between us. “Didn’t think you’d be hiding out here.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Of course not,” I said, the faintest tease in my tone. “You’re just… brooding.”

He finally glanced at me, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly. “If you came here to psychoanalyze me, don’t bother.”

“Actually,” I said, leaning back “I came here to check on you.”

Michael scoffed softly, but there was no real bite in it. “I don’t need checking on.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

The words hung in the air, and for once, he didn’t argue. Instead, his gaze drifted back to the field, his fingers idly fidgeting with the necklace around his neck—the one I’d given him.

“Do you... like it?” I said quietly, nodding toward the charm.

He didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, more hesitant. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever owned.”

I laughed lightly, shaking my head. “Wow. Such high praise.”

A small smirk tugged at his lips, but it faded just as quickly. His fingers stilled, gripping the charm tightly.

“I don’t know why you gave it to me,” he muttered. “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

I blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You could’ve chosen anyone. Someone easier. Someone who doesn’t—”

“Stop,” I interrupted, my tone firm but gentle.

His head turned slightly, his expression unreadable.

“I didn’t choose you because you’re easy, Michael,” I said. “I chose you because… you’re you. Because beneath all the arrogance and sharp edges, there’s someone worth knowing. Someone worth caring about.”

He stared at me, his gaze intense, searching. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is.”

Michael let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe I am.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he leaned back, his eyes fixed on the darkening sky. “You know, I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely between the two of us. “Caring. Letting someone… matter. I'll never be as good at it as you are.”

I hesitated for a moment, then reached out, my fingers brushing against his hand. He didn’t pull away.

“You’re better at it than you think,” I said softly.

He turned to me then, his guard slipped entirely. Vulnerability flickered in his eyes, raw and unfiltered.

“You’re terrifying, you know that?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Terrifying?”

“Yeah.” He exhaled slowly, as if the admission cost him something. “Because you make me feel things I don’t want to feel. Things I don’t know what to do with.” And I wish I could do anything else than stay silent, he thought.

I smiled faintly, my hand sliding into his, fingers lacing together. “That’s... love, Michael. Messy, complicated, terrifying but worth it.”

For a long moment, he just looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then, his grip on my hand tightened, almost imperceptibly.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

He let out a short, almost disbelieving laugh. “You’re really not going to give up, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Michael shook his head, but there was something in his eyes—something softer, quieter. Something real.

“Then I guess I’m stuck with you now,” he said, his smirk finally making a reluctant appearance.

“Lucky me,” I teased, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“Lucky me,” he muttered, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.

But I did.

And in that moment, we both understood.

I will give you the love you have always craved, you, who have wandered through life untouched by its warmth. No shadow you carry will dim the glow of my heart, as long as it beats with gold and fire, steady and unyielding in its devotion to you.

Let it seep through the cracks of your broken, blackened core. Throw it against the walls you’ve built so high, let it shatter and spill until it floods the emptiness inside you. And when it knocks you down, I will be there to catch you in my arms.

Sweet and bitter child, I will pour into you all that you lack, until your empty cup overflows with tenderness. Until you begin to craft your own dreams from the ones I have given you.

Until the love that brought you back is the love you offer freely, tender and fearless, just as you were meant to be.

[ninguitar]

LOVE ON A WIRE.　 11. our song btw wc. 9OO+

❛ megan has never, ever wanted anything as bad in her life, until you—an underground singer and songwriter, is unemployed, and the textbook definition of a loser—stroll into her heart and her life. matter of fact, what happens when she accidentally replies to your thirst-traps that were a rebounding joke after a rough break-up, on twitter, and on the katseye account? ❜

tucked away in the heart of the city, the cafe you found yourself in was as warm as it seemed from the outside; it was dimly-lit from the windows engulfed by the thick curtains. an elderly woman stood behind the register, busy at one of the coffee machines. a gentle spring of rain taps against the windows, giving a light pitter-patter, as you watched the clock's hands tick.

"am i late?" a soft voice echoes through your head, while somebody's breath fanning over your neck. your heart drops for a second, before your head jolts up, noticing ginger hair in your line of view.

you mutter under your breath, "jesus, don't creep up on me like that," you lightly joke, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips. you pat the seat beside you, beckoning for her to sit.

her eyes crease into crescents, as she sits down, scanning the menu. your gaze fixates on her before you realize, your hands curling around a bouquet of flowers, "i, uh, got this for you." you stumble over your words, apprehension washing over your face, as you try to decipher her facial expression. you shift in your seat.

"really—for me?" her eyes soften at your actions, her hand brushing against yours, as she takes the flowers from you. "these are just... wow. thank you, really." heat curls at megan's cheeks as she speaks, hoisting the flowers up as though she won a prize.

a relieved sigh drifts from your lips, as you nod, "good, good. i was hoping they weren't too much." you chuckle, as you look over the menu, deciding what to order.

"nothing could be too much," she reassures you, her lips quirking up into a gentle smile, "how are you anyway?" and it was as though she could tell you were radiating nerves, a smile adorning your own lips. you nod through with a laugh, "i'm good—slightly overwhelmed with the new record but still alright and a little nervous."

"nervous, really?" megan murmurs, dramatically gasping as if it was such a shocker, "busy with school though, aren't you?" she asks, as she eyes the menu, nodding her head as a gesture for you to continue talking.

your cheeks flush, "a little, i guess," grabbing your own menu; you were grateful that you were able to have something to occupy your hands to keep them from sweating. she met your gaze over the menu, scrunching her nose, "you don't have to be so nervous, you know." megan tries to reassure you, patting your back.

and the moment she said that, you obliged—words falling freely out of your lips without a second thought, especially because megan was too easy to talk with.

the chinese girl shuffles through the vast menu, asking, "you think their latte's any good?" in response, you shrug half-heartedly, your gaze slightly studying megan's features, "you never know—you could always try it," you suggest, and she nods.

before megan could stand up to order, your hand rests on her shoulder, and getting up from your seat, you shake your head, "i'll order, it's fine." a grin curbs your lips, as you order, slipping a bill to the cashier, and turning around to make sure the chinese girl wouldn't notice you were paying instead of her—her eyes fixated on the bundle of flowers.

receiving your guys' orders almost immediately, you sit back down, sliding the latte to megan. you blow air on yours, trying to cool the scalding cup down. on the other-hand, her latte steams gracefully on the table, waiting to cool down on its own.

"you working on anything else?" the ginger-headed girl catches herself awed at every single movement you make, and leaning forward, she clears her throat.

you shrug, "here and there, nothing important though," and an amused smirk adorns her face. the chinese girl shakes her head, remarking, "c'mon, i'm sure you have a lot of good songs comin' up. you could always—i don't know—show me some of them."

you chuckle, shooting her a look, "maybe, but they're not like, professionally produced or anythin'." megan pats your shoulder, coaxing, "you could always come to the studio with me."

biting your cheek, your eyebrows furrow, "i guess i could, maybe." you sigh as if you had no other choice, while the chinese girl beside you had excitement exuding from her skin, her eyes twinkling with mischief at your words. she locks eyes with you, heat flaring at her cheeks, as she nudges your shoulder playfully.

with her voice taking on a teasing edge, she snickers, mimicking your tone, "i guess i'll take you there, if you really want to," she exaggerates, pursing her lips, while you shoot a glance at her, a giggle falling shortly from your lips. you feign annoyance at her actions, rolling your eyes, before getting up, intertwining her hand with yours to help her up.

shortly though, before you guys could reach the door, she interjects, "wait— what about the bill!" and you couldn't help but suppress a smile on your face because if you didn't, inevitably your behavior would betray the way your heart pounds for her. you shrug, "i paid for it."

an incredulous look washes over megan's features, as she sucks in her teeth dramatically, shaking her head playfully, "this was meant to be my treat! you paying defeats the whole purpose, yn!" the chinese girl rolls her eyes.

PREV.　MASTERLIST.　NEXT.

A/N. loser & girl failure yn MY goat.

𝓽aglist (closed 46/46) :

@sed7ction @1luvkarina @ssamlovr @goofymickeyr @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @meganskiendielsbtc @fruityg0rl @fearnotfearmore @justtluvrr @meiyaes @sixflame438 @arihiu @vrtualstar @grahstumhurts @jaythegirlkisser @namojoon @saysirhc @gtfoiydlyj @catdonut657 @inybits @vivilvr @c-yerim @meizinisnumberone @blue-kye @linnnsworld @k31k0w @hazel-tanthamore22 @raviolisupremacy @cassiespoiler @weirdossclub @sunshinez4 @xochitlisbest @ratzeye @meiphobic @soobnotfound @kristalag @snoopyiz @itzkatflixs @spongebobtentacles @mirophobic @apersonwhowrites @bowforgodjihyo @mandydxndy @chuugetmesohigh @karli6

[ikkyfics]

Hii sorry to bother 🥲🫶🏻

But If I can, I'd like to request Dave maybe with an insecure reader that used to be bullied back in school days and stuff.

Please decline or ignore this if you don't feel like writing or simply don't want to! I love your writings they're so comfy and sweet (If that makes sense?)!

Ty and stay safe and healthy !😽😽

I’m here. I’ll always be here

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: "Hey," he called once he was close enough, his voice soft, but full of concern. You stopped, raising your eyes to him, and what Dave saw was enough to make his chest tighten. Your eyes were shining in a way he knew meant tears were close, and there was something fragile about your expression, like a single word could make everything crumble.

Warnings: mention of bullying, anxiety, sensitive content - a bit of well-deserved revenge

A/N: ooh you are so sweet, thank you so much for the nice words. and you certainly don't bother, my dear. I hope you can enjoy it, and please stay safe and healthy too <333

Masterlist

The day was calm on campus, with students scattered across the lawn and the muffled sound of laughter and conversations in the background. You had just left the library a few minutes ago, balancing the books against your chest as you tried not to think about how busy the campus seemed at that time. You were planning to take a shortcut to the place you knew Dave would be. Just a few more minutes, and the comfort of his presence would dissipate any discomfort you felt.

But then it happened.

It was a quick bump, the kind of thing that could go unnoticed on a normal day. The impact was light, but it made one of your books slip and fall to the ground. You automatically bent down to pick it up, mumbling a hasty apology without even looking at the person.

"Ah, sorry," you started to say, but the voice that responded made the blood freeze in your veins.

"Well, look who’s here."

The voice was sweet, almost musical, but tinged with a note of malice you instantly recognized. That unmistakable tone that made your stomach churn. You slowly lifted your head, as if you could delay the inevitable.

It was her.

The nickname came to your mind before you could process the face in front of you. Sugar. That’s what she was known as, but the nickname never reflected her true nature. She wasn’t sweet. Not really. She was cruel in an almost elegant way, capable of turning insults into something that sounded like a compliment to anyone not paying attention.

Her smile widened when she saw your expression.

"Well, this is unexpected. You, here? Never imagined that... well, you know, that you’d be the type to actually make it somewhere."

Your heart began pounding in your chest. You tried to smile, to act as if it were any other encounter, as if her face wasn’t dragging up memories of every moment you wished you could disappear. You tried to walk past her, to keep going, but her hand lightly touched your arm, just enough to stop your steps.

"What’s the matter? Not even going to say 'hi' to an old friend?"

"I have to go," you murmured, your voice weak, barely audible. But she didn’t step back.

"Oh, don’t be like that! I mean, look at you!" She gestured dramatically, her eyes sliding over you as if she were evaluating a defective piece of art. "You’re so... different. Not that it’s bad, you know? But I can still tell, I guess. The same vibe, that... how can I put it? That insecure little thing. You can feel it from a distance, you know?"

You tried again, took a step back, but she followed the movement, leaning in slightly, like a predator sensing vulnerable prey.

"It’s funny, because I remember you always seemed so... out of place. I mean, I never thought you’d survive high school, let alone get here. It’s like a miracle, don’t you think?"

Her voice seemed to echo louder than it should have, drowning out the sounds of the campus around you. Each word seemed to pierce your mind directly, bringing images, voices, and laughter from the past you tried to bury.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn’t come. The air felt heavy, like the simple act of breathing required effort.

She laughed, a low, almost conspiratorial sound, as if sharing a secret with you. "Oh, don’t get so tense. I’m just joking, you know? That’s what I always liked about you, that... sensitivity. Makes you so easy to hit. Isn’t it fun? You get all nervous, like you’re about to explode any second."

You wanted to run. To escape. But your legs felt glued to the ground, and all you could do was press the books harder against your chest, as if that could create some kind of barrier between you.

"Well, I won’t bother you anymore with your... busy day or whatever you call your routine," she said, finally stepping away, but not without giving one last evaluative glance. "Just thought it was funny seeing you. Almost didn’t recognize you. But, you know, some things never change, huh?"

She walked away then, leaving a trail of expensive perfume and poisonous words in the air. And you stood there, paralyzed, trying to process what had just happened.

The weight of Sugar’s words still seemed to press against your chest as you finally forced your feet to move. The world around you was just a blurred smear of colors and muffled sounds, everything secondary to the echo of the memories crashing in like a violent wave.

The hallways of high school. The judgmental stares. The laughs that always seemed to follow you, even when you didn’t quite know what they were laughing at. The feeling of being small, invisible, and at the same time, far too exposed. It was a whirlwind you thought you’d overcome, but now it was back with full force, as if time had stood still.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep it together. Trying to remind yourself that that was the past, that you weren’t that person anymore. But the memories didn’t let up, and before you knew it, your eyes were misting over.

When you finally spotted Dave, he was standing near one of the campus benches, with Todd and Marty. They were laughing about something, and just seeing him there, in his relaxed and cheerful posture, made the weight on your shoulders lighten a little. Dave was the anchor that kept you steady, but even now, he seemed as distant as the rest of the world.

Dave noticed you before you could get too close, and his smile faded the moment he saw you. Something was wrong. He knew every detail about you — the way you walked, the slight curve of your shoulders when you were distracted, the way your lips curled into a nearly imperceptible smile when something pleased you. But now, each of those traits seemed erased.

Your steps were hesitant, almost staggered, as if you were carrying something far heavier than the books pressed against your chest. Your shoulders were stiff, and the way you avoided looking around said more than words ever could.

"I’ll be right back," Dave murmured to Todd and Marty, but didn’t wait for their response before heading straight toward you. He didn’t need to think, didn’t need to plan. He just knew he had to get to you.

"Hey," he called once he was close enough, his voice soft, but full of concern. You stopped, raising your eyes to him, and what Dave saw was enough to make his chest tighten. Your eyes were shining in a way he knew meant tears were close, and there was something fragile about your expression, like a single word could make everything crumble.

"Hey, what happened?" He took another step forward, reaching for your hand, but you shook your head, gripping the books tighter.

"It’s nothing," you said, your voice low, almost faded. It wasn’t how you normally spoke. It wasn’t you.

"It doesn’t sound like 'nothing,'" Dave replied, his voice firmer now. He put a hand on your shoulder, a light touch, but full of intention. "Please, talk to me. What happened?"

For a moment, you stayed silent, as if deciding what to do. And then, finally, you murmured, "I ran into someone... from high school."

The words hit him hard. Dave knew enough about your past to understand the weight that came with that. He didn’t know all the details — you still couldn’t talk about some things — but he knew enough to feel a quiet anger rise inside him.

"Who?" The question came quickly, almost automatically, before he could stop it. He needed to know.

"It doesn’t matter." Your answer came fast, and you looked away. "I just want to forget."

Dave took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He knew pushing you would only make things worse. But seeing you like this, so vulnerable, so distant from yourself, was unbearable.

"Okay," he said, softening his tone. "Okay. But let me help, at least. Let’s sit, alright? Just for a minute."

You hesitated, but eventually nodded, and Dave wasted no time. He found a bench a little farther away and guided you there. As soon as you sat down, he took one of your hands, interlacing his fingers with yours. It was a simple gesture, but it held so much meaning.

"If you want to talk, I’m here," he said, looking directly at you. "And if you don’t, that’s okay too. But just... let me stay with you now, okay?"

Dave kept his eyes fixed on you, feeling the weight of your silence like a wave about to crash. You were always so good at hiding what you felt, at masking the pain with small smiles or words that deflected attention. But now, there was no shield. It was just you, vulnerable and desperately trying to hold it together, even as everything around you seemed to crumble.

He squeezed your hand lightly, a silent reminder that he was there, that you didn’t have to carry that weight alone. "You don’t have to pretend with me," he said softly, his tone gentle, with no trace of judgment. "I’m here. Just let it happen."

You swallowed hard, your lips trembling as you tried to form a response that wouldn’t come. You didn’t want to break down, not there, not now. But his eyes were so warm, so full of love and understanding, that the knot in your throat became impossible to ignore.

"Dave..." Your voice finally came out, but it was almost a whisper, as fragile as you felt.

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head slightly, as if he wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to speak unless you wanted to. And that was what broke down your defenses. All the effort to keep the tears at bay disappeared, and before you knew it, they were slipping freely down your face.

Dave moved in the same instant, leaning in to wrap you in a tight embrace. It was firm, protective, but in a way that spoke more than words ever could. He wanted you to feel safe, as if nothing and no one could hurt you while he was there.

"Shh... it’s okay," he murmured against the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing your back. "I’m here. I’ll always be here."

You clung to him as if he were the only solid thing in a crumbling world. Sobs came in waves, each one bringing to the surface pieces of the pain you had been repressing for so long. And Dave... he just held you, as if he could carry the weight of it all.

As he held you, Dave felt a silent anger growing in his chest. He rarely thought about the times he wore the Kick-Ass suit— it had been years since he hung up the mask, choosing to leave that chapter behind. But in that moment, he considered going back. Just for one night. Just long enough to find whoever had done this to you and make sure they understood what it felt like to experience fear, shame, and helplessness.

But at the same time, he knew that wouldn’t fix everything. What you needed now wasn’t vengeance. It was comfort. It was knowing that someone was there to hold you in the tough moments.

"You don’t have to carry this alone," he said, his voice still low but filled with conviction. He pulled back just enough to look at you, holding your face with both hands. "I know I can’t erase what happened, but I can help you move forward. We can do this together, okay?"

You looked at him, your eyes still glistening with tears, but there was something different now. A spark of relief, of hope. Dave saw it and felt his chest tighten in a different way—not with anger or sadness, but with love. Because that’s what he felt for you, so intense it sometimes felt impossible to put into words.

He gently wiped away a tear that slid down your cheek with his thumb, offering a small smile full of tenderness. "No matter what happened before, what matters is that now you have someone who isn’t going anywhere. Someone who believes in you."

Dave kept his thumb resting lightly against your cheek as his eyes remained locked on yours. It was as if he was trying to convey everything he felt—every bit of love, security, and certainty that you would never be alone again.

He leaned in a little more, their breaths nearly mingling. Then, with the utmost gentleness, he pressed his lips to your cheek where a tear still glimmered. It was a kiss as soft as a silent promise.

"This is to chase away what’s left of the bad," he said, a small smile, but full of sincerity, appearing at the corner of his lips.

You blinked a few times, surprised by the gesture, and although tears still threatened to fall, a faint smile began to form on your lips.

"You’re impossible, you know?" you murmured, your voice choked but with a hint of affection.

"I prefer ‘irresistible,’" Dave replied, tilting his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But I’ll take ‘impossible’ if that makes you smile."

He repeated the gesture, this time kissing another tear that slid slowly down the other side of your cheek. "One more, just to be sure," he added, feigning seriousness, but with a hidden smile in his voice.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, almost timid, as if you weren’t sure it was allowed to feel anything beyond pain in that moment. But to Dave, that sound was everything.

"Ah, there it is," he said, his smile now more evident. "The laugh I was waiting for. That’s what I was talking about."

You shook your head, a little incredulous, but the tension in your body began to ease. There was still a weight there, he could see, but the way your shoulders relaxed just a bit, how your eyes weren’t as watery anymore, made the world feel a little lighter for him too.

"Why do you do this?" you asked, your voice firmer now, but still filled with emotion. "Why do you... look at me like I’m the most important thing in the world?"

Dave shrugged, but his smile was so genuine it almost stole the breath from him. He held your face again with both hands, leaning in until your foreheads almost touched.

"Because you are," he replied simply, without hesitation for even a second.

The weight of those words felt like a comforting hug in your heart. You felt tears welling up again, but this time not from pain, but from relief, from the certainty that you were safe, that you were with someone who saw you exactly as you were—and loved you for it.

Dave chuckled softly at the return of your tears, but he didn’t mind. Instead, he continued his small ritual, kissing yet another tear that threatened to escape. "And this one’s just to remind you of that," he said, his voice as soft as a whisper.

"Dave..." you began, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

"Without ‘but,’ no doubts," he said, looking directly into your eyes. "You’re amazing. And I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that, even if you don’t believe it now. Especially if you don’t believe it now."

The smile that formed on your face was different this time. It was more genuine, more complete, and Dave felt his chest fill with warmth he couldn’t describe. To him, seeing you smile that way was like finally breathing after holding his breath for a long time.

He grasped your hands in his, holding them firmly but gently. "So, how about we head home? I’ll make popcorn, you pick the movie, and we’ll turn this day into a good memory. Sound good?"

You nodded slowly, the smile still on your face, and Dave felt that, even if the day had started in a storm, now the sun began to shine again.

A few days had passed since that moment when Dave had hugged you, and although the signs of sadness hadn’t completely disappeared, he could see how things were improving. Time, patience, and care were finally bringing back that version of you he had always admired—a lighter, freer, more you version.

But, like anyone with a good sense of justice running through their veins, Dave felt that something needed to be done. That silent anger still burned in his chest, and the desire to protect you from anything that could hurt you consumed him. So, he came up with an idea—a plan that made him reminisce about the old days.

And, of course, who better to help him with this than Mindy?

"I know I’m retired, but... I need your help with something," Dave said to her, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice. He was more nervous than he’d like to admit.

Mindy looked at him with suspicion, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

"I just need your help finding the people who, well, did some... unpleasant things to my girlfriend. I want to teach them a lesson."

Mindy raised her eyebrows, a look on her face that clearly said ‘seriously?’ and let out an ironic laugh. "You want revenge? Because I’ve got a few things you’ll find pretty interesting."

"No deaths or dismemberment," Dave argued quickly. "Just something that sends a clear message to them. That they should stay away from her. Forever."

Mindy scoffed but couldn’t help smiling. "Fine. But you’re missing out on the chance to create something epic."

With her help, the mission was executed—nothing too flashy, but a clear and direct message, with a very Mindy touch. She was good at making things feel... uncomfortable, but no real harm was done. Dave had no doubt the message had been delivered.

When he finally got to the apartment he shared with you, he was exhausted but satisfied. The mission was complete. He leaned back on the couch with a satisfied smile, a look that mixed exhaustion with an almost childlike happiness.

You entered the room, immediately noticing the gleam in his eyes, the strange smile on his lips, as if he had just conquered something.

"Why are you smiling like that?" you asked, walking towards him. There was something mysterious in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite place. "You look... happier than usual."

Dave stretched out his hand, an even wider smile on his face, and gently pulled you onto his lap, sitting you between his legs. He was visibly excited, almost like a kid who had just discovered something fun, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you warmly. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, but the intensity of the gesture was clear—he was happy, more than usual, and it showed in every movement.

You, still smiling, but now a little more curious, placed your hands on his face, stopping the kiss for a moment. Your eyes met, and the tone of your question was gentle, but with a hint of concern that didn’t go unnoticed.

"Dave..." you began. "What happened? What were you doing?"

"I was just taking care of some things," he replied softly, a smile on his lips.

[fourthavecafe]

can you do a L x reader where reader is nothing L while he’s trying to work and he gets up and just tickles them crazy! Take as much time as you need!

when annoying your boyfriend L takes a wrong turn ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The room was silent except for the rhythmic tapping of L’s fingers on his keyboard. He sat in his usual crouched position, his dark eyes fixed on the multiple monitors in front of him.

The glow of the screens reflected off his pale face, highlighting the bags under his eyes. He was deep in thought, piecing together clues for his latest case, when you decided to interrupt again.

“L, come on! You’ve been sitting there for hours” you said, leaning over the back of his chair. “Don’t you ever take a break?”

L didn’t look up. “I’m working” he replied in his usual monotone voice. “and you’re distracting me.”

You pouted, walking around to face him. “But you’ve been working all day! Don’t you want to do something fun? Like… I don’t know, eat cake? Or watch a movie? Or—”

“No” L interrupted, his eyes still glued to the screen. “I don’t.”

You sighed dramatically, plopping down on the floor next to him. “You’re so boring. How can you just sit there all day and not go crazy?”

L finally glanced at you, his expression as blank as ever. “I’m not the one who’s been talking nonstop for the past hour.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, earning a slight raise of his eyebrow. “Well, maybe if you paid attention to me once in a while, I wouldn’t have to annoy you so much.”

L didn’t respond, returning his focus to his work. You groaned, flopping onto your back and staring at the ceiling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

For the next hour, you continued to pester him, asking random questions, making jokes and occasionally poking his arm. L remained calm, answering your questions with short, clipped responses and ignoring your attempts to get a reaction out of him. But beneath his stoic exterior, he was growing increasingly annoyed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, L closed his laptop and turned to face you. “Are you quite finished?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever.

You sat up, grinning. “Depends. Are you finally going to take a break?”

L stared at you for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Actually, I need your help with something.”

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You never ask for my help! What is it?”

L held up the handcuffs, examining them closely. “These are a new design. I need to test them on someone to see how effective they are. Would you mind?”

You hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? What do I have to do?”

L gestured for you to stand up. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

You did as he asked, feeling a slight thrill at being involved in one of his experiments. L fastened the handcuffs around your wrists, his movements precise and efficient. “How do they feel?” he asked.

You wriggled your hands a bit. “A little tight but not too bad. What’s next?”

L didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped back and tilted his head, his gaze drifting down to your stomach. You were wearing a crop top and your belly button ring glinted in the light. L’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were studying a particularly intriguing puzzle.

“Your piercing” he said suddenly. “How long have you had it?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Uh… a few years, I guess. Why?”

L stepped closer, his expression as calm as ever. “I’ve always found body modifications fascinating. The human body’s ability to heal and adapt is remarkable. Have you ever experienced any complications? Infections, for example?”

You shook your head, feeling a bit self-conscious under his intense gaze. “No, not really. I made sure to take care of it properly.”

L nodded, his eyes still fixed on your stomach. “Interesting and does it still cause any discomfort?”

“Not really” you said, shifting uncomfortably. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

L didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out and gently poked your stomach, just below the piercing. You let out a startled shriek, jerking away from his touch. “L! What the hell?”

L tilted his head, his expression unchanged. “You laughed. Why?”

You glared at him, your face turning red. “Because it tickled, you idiot!”

L’s eyes widened slightly, as if he’d just made a groundbreaking discovery. “Tickled?” he repeated, his voice tinged with curiosity. “Fascinating.”

Before you could react, he poked your stomach again, this time with a bit more force. You burst into laughter, squirming in an attempt to escape his touch. “L, stop! That’s not funny!”

But L wasn’t laughing. In fact, he looked more serious than ever. “This is an interesting reaction” he said, his tone clinical. “The human body’s response to tickling is a complex neurological phenomenon. It’s often associated with vulnerability and trust, as the sensation can only be triggered in certain areas.”

You tried to back away but L followed you, his fingers now exploring your sides. You let out another peal of laughter, your legs giving out beneath you. L caught you easily, lowering you to the floor with surprising gentleness.

“Your laughter is quite… intense” he observed, his voice calm despite your frantic squirming. “I wonder if other areas are equally sensitive.”

“L, I swear—” you started but your words were cut off as he dug his fingers into your ribs. You screamed with laughter, tears streaming down your face as you tried to wriggle away. But with your hands cuffed behind your back, there was no escape.

L continued his “experiment” with the precision of a scientist, methodically testing every spot that made you laugh. He took mental notes, his expression never wavering from its usual blankness. “The sides are particularly sensitive” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “And the area just below the ribs… fascinating.”

By the time he finally stopped, you were a giggling, breathless mess on the floor. L stood up on his heels, studying you with a thoughtful expression. “That was… enlightening” he said, his tone as calm as ever.

You glared at him, though the effect was somewhat ruined by your flushed face and tear-streaked cheeks. “You’re the worst” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath.

L tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Perhaps. But now I know how to silence you when you’re being… disruptive.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the floor. “I hate you.”

L walked off, brushing off his pants. “No, you don’t” he said simply. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

and with that, he walked back to his chair, leaving you cuffed and helpless on the floor. You couldn’t help but laugh, despite yourself. L was impossible, infuriating, and utterly unpredictable and somehow, that was exactly why you couldn’t stay mad at him.