#this might be a slightly absurd request

[black-light-guides-you-ghuleh]

itty-sodo!!

[rosesareredrosa]

Quick Realizations

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Mattheo Riddle has always known everything about everyone—except his own feelings. When a playful conversation turns into an unexpected confession, Mattheo realises he might like you more than just as a friend.

w/c: 1287

a/n: send in requests pls I have no clue what to write about

To no one's surprise, Mattheo knows almost everything.

For example, he knows that he's your best friend.

He knows that you prefer studying by the Black Lake rather than in the library, that you secretly adore Herbology even though you complain about the dirt, and that you like sneaking out after curfew just to wander the castle halls at night. He also knows that Pansy has been in a better mood since Draco complimented her new potion-brewed perfume, and that Theo's been practicing his wandwork more than usual because he's been trying to impress a certain Ravenclaw in Charms class.

Simply put, Mattheo knows everything about everyone.

"And then what did she do?" He leans back against the stone bench, casually tossing a stray pebble into the lake, watching as the water ripples outward.

"We just talked afterward," you shrug, watching as a pair of first years try to coax the Giant Squid to the surface. "It was nice catching up with her; it's been a while."

"I bet. She's a nightmare," Mattheo chuckles, popping a chocolate frog into his mouth as he speaks. He chews thoughtfully for a moment before glancing over at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh!" Your eyes brighten as you recall something, turning to face him.

You can't help but burst into laughter when you see his face, but you quickly compose yourself, keeping your smile in check. "She also said the funniest thing—she said that she thought you had feelings for me!"

His eyes widen in surprise, his jaw dropping ever so slightly. "That's ridiculous."

"I know, right?" You snicker, adjusting your scarf as a cold breeze sweeps across the grounds. He joins you in laughter, the idea of liking you as more than a friend clearly absurd to him.

"Hahaha!"

"Hahaha!"

But as your laughter dies down, his smile falters.

"Theo, what do I do?!"

His roommate sits at a desk in the Slytherin common room, poring over a detailed Quidditch strategy diagram. His brows are furrowed in concentration as he plans out moves for the upcoming match against Gryffindor.

"Just tell her."

"I’ll hex you into next week."

"If it’s between you being a miserable pain in my arse and getting hexed, I’ll take the hex, mate," Theo mutters, not bothering to look up from his plans.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow. "Why are you so sure you’re going to get hexed?"

"Because I’m associated with you," Theo replies dryly, finally glancing up from his Quidditch strategy with a smirk. "Help me out first, and then curse me later. C'mon, don't be stingy."

"I literally already gave you advice, just tell her how you feel."

"One small problem with that."

"What now?"

"I—" Mattheo opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find the right words. He eventually settles on giving Theo an innocent smile. "Well, I actually don't know if I like her like that? It was an in-the-moment realization kind of thing, but now I'm just confused—"

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh, tossing his quill aside and turning fully to face Mattheo. "Are you serious?" He glares at Mattheo, disbelief etched across his face. "She can’t even brew a simple potion without asking for your help, and you’re practically useless in class if you can’t sit next to her! You two have the most ridiculous relationship I’ve ever seen!"

Mattheo crosses his arms, frowning. Theo sighs again, rubbing his temples. "...Respectfully, of course."

"Talk rubbish about her again and I'll jinx you into a toad. I'm serious."

"That’s literally my point."

"That doesn’t mean you get to be mean! Take it back!"

Theo bites back a retort, narrowing his eyes at his friend. "For someone who’s so observant," he says slowly, "you know nothing."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Mattheo’s eyes narrow, suddenly on the defensive.

"Well," Theo shrugs nonchalantly, "I’ve noticed that Comrac McLaggen has been showing a lot of interest in her lately. He might even confess soon, who knows? Maybe even today."

Mattheo stares at Theo, completely stunned by the revelation. His mind races as he processes his friend’s words; Theo can practically see the exact moment the realization dawns on him. Like a flash, Mattheo jumps to his feet.

"Theo, I’ve got to go! Good luck with the Quidditch match!"

"Gryffindor's not going to know what hit them."

But before he can finish, Mattheo is already out the door.

The key to your dorm unlocks itself, and right on time, Mattheo bursts through the door, slightly out of breath, his hair messier than usual from the wind.

"What’s this—?" You barely get the words out before Mattheo grabs your shoulders, his eyes wide as he searches yours for a moment before blurting out, "I like you."

You blink, taken aback by his sudden confession, but he doesn’t give you time to respond before he continues.

"I was going back and forth with Theo, and honestly, he messed with my head a bit, but I’ve come to a decision, and I know I like you. So don’t even think about dating Comrac, he’s a decent bloke and all, but he’s not right for you. And besides, if you dated him, you'd have to deal with his mates, and that sounds like a nightmare."

You knew who Comrac was, but you stay silent to let him continue speaking. Mattheo was always the more talkative one between the two of you (he’s also the one with the warmer smile, which is funny because his hands feel like ice against your sweater).

His hands move from your shoulders to your arms, and he swallows nervously. "I’m usually not this anxious around you, y'know," he admits, words tumbling out in a rush, "normally I feel at ease talking to you, but right now I feel like I’m going to pass out."

"Did you run here from the common room?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, Mattheo!" You soften instantly, placing your hand on his cheek. He leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he sighs in relief. You frown at his recklessness, "You know how much running through the castle exhausts you. Why didn’t you just use the Floo network?"

"I just really wanted to see you." He pouts, opening his eyes to look at you with a vulnerability that makes your heart melt. "Like I said, Theo really messed with my head."

"I’m going to jinx him."

"Please do."

"And Mattheo?"

"Hm?"

It’s really sweet, actually—how he’s forgotten about his whole reason for coming here. But you can’t blame him too much; he’s just dashed through half the castle after battling his own nerves, and every hero deserves a reward for their courage. Especially Mattheo, who more than deserves a happy ending, and you couldn’t be more thrilled to give one to him.

"I like you too, by the way. Theo may be a little meddlesome, but he’s got great intuition; I was actually about to head to your dorm to tell you."

He gasps. "But running exhausts you!"

You smile sheepishly. "I guess I just really wanted to see you."

His jaw drops for the tenth time that day, and he pulls you into a tight hug, burying his head into your neck, murmuring against your shoulder. "I love you, I love you, I love—"

"I love you too." You smile because you do love him. He’s been your best friend since first year, your partner in crime through every adventure, the boy you admired before you even understood what admiration was. "Since you’re here, want to watch a movie? I’ve got that Muggle DVD player you’re always curious about."

"Absolutely!"

As he hums to himself, cutting up some Honeydukes sweets for your impromptu movie session.

[springtyme]

Steve request! Reader dragging dr*gged up S3 Steve and Robin around the mall with Dustin and Erica and every chance he gets to flirt with r he takes (you can totally ignore this if you want!)

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ♡

Thank you for the request, hun! I loved this idea, and it was so much fun to write <3

Steve Harrington x f!reader || Masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: Throughout your entire friendship with Steve, you've always had terrible timing. But having him confess to you while drugged out of his mind and running from Russian spies might take the cake.

word count: 3.5k

warning/tags: Idiots in love. Childhood best friends. Mention of Steve and Robin being drugged, and Steve's bruises and dried blood. This turned out a lot different and a lot longer than I had first planned, but I do fear I suffer from too much gene. I haven't proofread this, so there might be a few mistakes.

The hum of the fluorescent lights buzz overhead as you try to navigate through the nearly-deserted mall, your heart pounding for reasons beyond the simple adrenaline of running for your life. Your grip on Steve’s arm is firm, trying your best to keep him steady while keeping an eye on Dustin and Erica who are leading Robin after you. 

“C’mon, Steve,” you huff as Steve stumbles over his own feed. He is leaning against you, his usually bright eyes glazed over but still sparkling with mischief. He is truly an absurd sight right now in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, a goofy grin on his heavily bruised face. He has patches of dried blood at the corner of his mouth and on his chin, and the area around his right eye is purple and swollen. Having him drugged out of his mind is far from ideal right now, and you hate not knowing what they injected him with, but you can’t help but feel a little thankful that whatever it is seems t o take his pain. “We have to keep moving.” 

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, the sound slightly slurred, yet still unmistakably sweet to your ears. “You’re really taking charge here, huh? Who knew you could be so bossy?” he teases, leaning a little too heavily against you, making you stumble a little to the side. You roll your eyes at his playfulness, trying to focus on the task at hand which Steve seemingly doesn’t have a single concern over right now.

“Yeah, yeah, bossy but effective,” you shoot back, glancing over your shoulder to make sure the kids and Robin are still behind you, before giving Steve a little push to keep him moving.

He just giggles, flashing you that charming smile that always makes your heart skip a beat—even now, with the haze of whatever the Russians had pumped him full of filtering his brain. “Very effective,” he replies, his voice a drunken whisper as he leans closer, as if sharing a delightful secret. 

“What the hell did they give you two?” you mutter as you stumble slightly to the side from Steve’s weight before catching yourself.   

“I don’t know,” he says, stretching his arms out dramatically, nearly losing his balance again. “But I like it!” he declares, throwing his head back and laughing. 

“I like it too!” Robin chimes in from behind, her voice slightly loopy and higher than usual as she, too, joins in on Steve’s laughing fit. You try to shush them, but your warning only fuels their giggles.

The sound of their laughter echoes through the, luckily nearly-empty, corridor of the mall you’re currently navigating. You huff in frustration, trying to maintain your composure amid the surreality of the moment, glancing around to ensure no one is noticing. “Guys, shh! We don’t want to attract any attention.” 

When Steve leans in again, his breath is warm against your ear, making it increasingly difficult to focus. “I think you’re the one attracting all the attention,” he whispers, a teasing smirk on his lips as he fixes you with a gaze that manages to be both hazy yet intense. The closeness of his body to yours sends a jolt of warmth pulsing through you, even amid the chaos surrounding your group.

 “Can you not flirt right now, Steve? We’re literally dodging a Russian military operation!” Dustin exclaims in exasperation from a few paces behind, his frustration evident as he pulls Robin along, who’s still hanging on to some bizarre delight in the situation. 

“Stop being jealous, Henderson,” Steve shoots back playfully as he sways slightly, and you have to quickly adjust to keep him from toppling over. “Just because your so-called girlfriend is all the way in Utah.” He points dramatically back at Dustin, making Robin break out in laughter again. 

“Focus, guys!” you insist, your voice low but firm. “Just follow me and try to stay quiet, okay?” You force yourself to focus on the path ahead, but every other second you glance to the side at Steve. He winks at you this time, the move so exaggerated that it comes off as almost comical, a poorly executed attempt at charm. 

“Oh, I’ll always follow you, to the end of the world,” he slurs.

“If you say so,” you murmur, which makes Steve knit his eyebrows, doing his best to appear thoughtful, though it only makes him appear more ridiculous. 

“Well, can you blame me? You’re the best,” he declares, sincerity mixed with the haze of his drugged state. “And, not to mention, like… the coolest girl in Hawkins.”

“Shut up, Steve,” you huff, trying to ignore how flustered his compliment makes you feel. 

“Are you gonna make me?” he challenges, raising an eyebrow before stumbling again and you have to swiftly tuck him back under your arm to keep him upright. You barely manage to catch him this time, your heart racing as he leans into you completely, resting his head against your shoulder.

“Just stay on your feet, okay?” you say, your voice carrying a mix of annoyance and affection. You truly can’t believe what’s happening right now.

You have been in love with Steve for what feels like a lifetime, having to watch him date and break up with countless girls, without him ever once seeming to realize the way you felt about him. But now, in a moment where he’s utterly out of it, after being drugged by Russian spies and running for your lives, he flirts with you. It feels like a cruel joke.  

“Okay, okay, I will stay on my feet,” Steve promises, straightening up (or at least attempting to) and puffing out his chest in an attempted display of bravado. It’s a strangely endearing sight, one that almost makes you forget, for a split second, the insane situation you’re fleeing.

The four of you keep moving, dodging through the mall until you finally spot a small storage room with a heavy door slightly ajar and you make a quick decision. The Russians took Steve’s car keys and Steve and Robin are still way too out of it, you need a break from running around so you can figure out what to do.   

“Erica, Dustin, we’re going in here,” you instruct, pulling the door open wider and pushing Steve inside before ushering Robin in with a gentle nudge, making sure Dustin and Erica follow closely behind before joining them, shutting the door behind you, the lock clicking into place.

Inside, the air is heavy with the scent of dust and industrial cleaner, and the dim light offers a brief reprieve from the chaos outside. Steve and Robin slumps against the wall, chuckling, seemingly entertained by the situation.

“Are you two okay?” you ask, turning towards Dustin and Erica.

“Yeah, we are fine, but those two?” Erica says, hands on her hips as she looks over at Steve and Robin who are giggling to each other with the kind of carefree joy that can only really come from being blissfully unaware of the danger surrounding them.

“Are you two okay?” you ask, more pointedly this time, directing your concern towards Steve and Robin. 

They briefly pause their laughter, turning their silly, unfocused gazes to you, their expressions shifting from amusement to a classic ‘who, us?’ look.

“More than okay. I feel amazing!” Robin announces with a giggle, her voice a bit too loud for the cramped space, her laughter filling the confined space. She barely seems aware of the tension in the air, her cheeks flushed from the adrenaline and whatever the Russians had spiked her with. You, on the other hand, take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the whirlwind of emotions inside you. 

“Well, there’s your answer, they are okay too,” you say, trying to keep your composure. They are clearly not okay, but there is not much you can do about it right now, most likely the drug will start to wear off sooner or later and all you can do is wait for that. In the meantime you have to figure out what to do. 

“Dustin help me move this crate,” you direct, pointing to a heavy storage crate in the corner. “Erica make sure those two stay put and somewhat quiet,” you say, trying to sound authoritative  . 

After a little bit of struggle you and Dustin get the crate and get the door barricaded before he joins Erica and the others and you take an inventory of the room—cleaning supplies, an old mop, and shelves lined with boxes. Nothing particularly useful to escape a Russian army, but at least it’s quiet.

You have just peaked your head out of a box, in which you finally had found something useful, as Steve, who apparently had maneuvered over to you, tries to lean on a shelf, but ends up leaning too heavily and almost toppling down. You rush forward to catch him before he hits the ground, your heart racing as you feel the warmth of his body against yours. 

“Whoa, careful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. The way he grins at you is both charming and infuriating, a painful reminder of why your heart races despite the absurdity of your current situation. “I thought I told you to stay put,” you scold gently, trying to mask the concern lacing your voice with a little frustration. 

“I missed you,” he replies, resting his head against the shelf beside you, the admission slipping out with an exaggerated, almost theatrical sweetness. 

“I was only a few feet away, Steve,” you remind him. 

“I know, but… you were still too far away,” he responds, tilting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze is a little more lucid, he is still out of it, but there is an earnestness that transcends any drug haze. “And I told you I’d follow you to the end of the world, remember.” There’s honesty in his tone that tugs at your heartstrings, and for a moment, you’re taken aback by his words.

“That’s sweet, Steve,” you say, giving him a little smile, which he reciprocates tenfold, clearly pleased to have garnered a smile from you. “Now look what I found,” you say, pulling out the first aid kit you had found from the box you were rummaging through before.  

“Uuuh,” he drawls as he leans closer, inspecting the kit with an hindering interest.

“Wanna come here and sit with me?” you ask, gesturing over to the crate by the door. 

“Always,” he replies, grinning as he attempts to maneuver himself but ends up colliding with the shelf instead. You can’t help but laugh a little as you reach out to steady him again, your hands brushing against his sides as you guide him over to the crest and help him sit down.

“I’m gonna clean you up a little, is that okay?” you ask softly, clicking open the first aid kit, trying your best to try ignoring the chaos that lingers just outside the door.

“That would be nice... You’re so nice,” he replies, before resting his head back against the wall, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he looks up at you with such admiration that it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you in that dimly lit storage room. You  feel that familiar rush of affection as you watch him. Drugged or not, he radiates that special warmth that brings a flutter to your heart. 

 “Okay, this might hurt a little, but try not to move, I promise to be gentle,” you say, pulling open an antiseptic wipe. You take a moment to steel yourself, your heart sinking as you study the bruises that mar his otherwise perfectly chiseled features. It must hurt, but he seems completely unfazed by it, lost in the bliss of his inebriated state. 

“Oh, you’re always gentle with me, even when you’re mean.” His voice is filled with a warm admiration. You can’t help but roll your eyes, a smile creeping onto your lips as you dab the antiseptic wipe against a cut on his cheek.

“When am I ever mean to you?” you ask him, focusing on wiping the blood from his chin while trying to ignore the way his gaze makes the air feel thick with unsaid emotions.

Steve chuckles softly, the sound warm and syrupy in the dim light of the storage room. “You’re always calling me an idiot, and you give me that look—” he pauses, his hazy expression suddenly serious, though it’s still marred by a goofy smile. 

You frown, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden shift in demeanor. “What look?” you ask, your brows knitting together in confusion. 

“That one! The one that says I’m a total dork who couldn’t find his own feet without you,” he replies, his tone teasing but somehow more sincere than usual. He tilts his head slightly, trying to penetrate the fog of the drug clouding his thoughts. “But, I know what you really mean. You just care. Besides, I like when you’re mean. It’s pretty hot…”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. He’s always known just how to get under your skin, but this is different—this feels more intimate, more real, especially given the current circumstances. “You might only think that because you’re high,” you counter, trying to play it cool despite the heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. 

He knits his brows, looking up at you like you just gave him the world’s meanest insult. “Nah, I mean it,” he insists, his eyes wide and sincere, though still glazed with that loopy energy.

“Maybe keep that thought for when you’re not under the influence of whatever crap those Russians gave you. I doubt you would say all this.” You carefully dab at his split lip, your fingers brushing against his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Somehow, it all feels surreal—this moment shared in the darkness, just you and Steve.

“Doesn’t matter, really. Even if they hadn’t—” He pauses, searching your eyes, and for the first time, you can’t help but notice the flicker of something deeper in his gaze. “I would’ve said it anyway. You have always been the one, you know?”

Your breath catches in your throat—what does he mean by ‘the one?’ You blink, trying to find your voice. “Steve—”

“No, wait. Let me finish,” he interrupts, shifting closer, entirely oblivious to the way butterflies have taken flight in your stomach. “I don’t know if we are getting caught by Russian spies, so please listen,” he says earnestly, and in that drugged haze, it feels deeply sincere, stripped of pretense or playful banter.

“I know I’ve been a total idiot when it comes to, well… everything, but especially with you. I just… I was scared. Scared to ruin our friendship.” 

You hold your breath, caught up in the gaze of the boy you’ve loved for as long as you can remember. A part of you wants to stop him, to put your hands over his mouth and make him stop spilling his unfiltered, drug induced thoughts, but you feel like you’re frozen.

“Even when I was a total jerk in high school, even when I was wrapped up in all those other girls, I always wanted it to be you. You’re… special to me. You always have been. You always save me from myself, you know? And not just today... but like, all the time.” His voice lowers to a near whisper as if he is sharing a secret that only the two of you exist to hear.

Your heart races, a torrent of emotions coursing through you. The words are both a balm and a weight, wrapping around you tightly.

“Steve… I…” You struggle for the right words as the weight of their significance swings like a pendulum between you. You love him, have done for years, and hearing him voice sentiments that resonate so deeply makes your heart ache—in a good way, but still aching hard. “Why would you think you’d ruin our friendship?” you ask, your voice gentle but firm. You’d buried your feelings for so long, only to have them rise unfiltered at this moment. 

“I thought—” He sighs, running a hand through his messy, yet somehow still perfect, hair, an absent gesture still filled with that same childhood charm you had known since you were kids. “I thought that I’d never be able to look at you if you didn’t feel the same way.” He chuckles softly, but it’s tinged with an undercurrent of sadness. “But now, I think—I mean, right now it feels like that doesn’t really matter. I have an assumption that I might be a little bit out of it right now, but I’m not that out of it, like… I am still here, in front of you. And if I die today because those Russians catch us, I just… I need you to know that you’ve always been the one for me, ‘cause I don’t want to die, or end up in a gulag, without you knowing that.”   

His confession hangs in the air between you like a fragile thread—part of you fears that it may unravel at any moment. Your pulse quickens as you dare to let yourself bask in the warmth of what he is saying. A weight lifts from your shoulders, giving way to a sense of hope you hadn’t anticipated.

“You wouldn’t ruin anything, Steve. I promise.” You take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think we will have to talk about this later though, when we aren’t fleeing for our lives. But thank you for telling me.” 

“Yeah… yeah, definitely later,” he agrees, a mix of urgency and longing mixing in the hazy look lining his features. 

You interlace your fingers, giving his hand another squeeze. If you’re actually making it out of this crazy situation, and when Steve isn’t drugged out of his mind and can confirm that he actually meant all that he just said, you’re gonna kiss him silly. But for now, the moment hangs in the air like a delicate suspension bridge, strung tightly between adrenaline and longing, with the threat of the outside world looming just beyond the door.

“Uhm, are you two good?” Erica interrupts, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. You whip your head around to find her standing with her arms crossed, raised eyebrow, looking way too sassy for a ten year old. Robin is propped against the far wall, watching with wide eyes and a goofy grin plastered on her face.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you respond quickly, feeling a hot flush rush to your cheeks as you release Steve’s hand, the warmth of his skin lingering even as you separate.

Steve shifts, nudging you playfully with his shoulder as he leans back against the wall. “Just bonding over our collective trauma, you know?” he says, his tone light but his eyes still holding that depth, the seriousness lingering just beneath the surface.

“Right, because that’s totally normal,” Dustin mutters sarcastically, eyeing the two of you with a knowing look. “Just keep it PG. Kissing isn’t going to save us from the Russians.” 

“We weren’t kissing,” you exclaim immediately, your heart racing as you avoid making eye contact with Steve, who wears a grin that communicates far too much mischief for your sanity.

“Oh, please,” Erica scoffs, rolling her eyes. “We all saw you two get all mushy. If we weren’t in the middle of a hostage situation, I might actually find it cute.” Robin giggles beside her, clearly entertained by the unfolding drama.

“Shut up, guys,” you mutter, suddenly very much aware of the heat flooding your veins. You can feel Steve’s gaze on you, and even in his loopy state, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. The last thing you need is the audience right now, especially when it involves Dustin and a ten-year-old like Erica, who take far too much joy in teasing you about this kind of stuff.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Robin slurs out with a giggle, leaning her head against the wall with a dreamy smile. “At least we know you’re safe together. Just don’t let those spy guys catch you making out in here. That would be truly embarrassing.”

“Thanks, Robin,” you reply dryly, your cheeks still flushed with heat. The absurdity of being stuck in a storage room, surrounded by your friends while hiding from Russian agents, yet feeling like the most pivotal moment of your life is unfolding, is almost laughable.

“Can we please focus on survival rather than on whatever is going on right now?” Dustin groans, exasperated. 

“We most certainly can,” you reply, helping Steve, who keeps looking at you like you hung the moon, up from the crate and onto his feet again, but you keep your fingers interlocked as you help him over to the others again.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ♡

[katsu28]

ooooo “Making the other person a Spotify playlist with songs that remind them of their relationship and growth” for Lando???

thank you for requesting! hope you like this one <3

lando norris x reader, 1.3k, request something from here!

There aren’t many times you can get Lando all to yourself. His job comes with many responsibilities, as does your own. You understand the time and hard work it takes to do what he does day after day, week after week, and you like to think the two of you have found a way to balance it all. Dinners together whenever you can, texting and calling between meetings; you even have a shared calendar on your phones to keep track of your hectic schedules. 

Racing takes precedence on most weekends, of course. Some of them you’re able to attend, but lately things have been getting busy at your workplace nowadays, which means you’ve been working weekends too. Weekdays are slim pickings as well, with all of the traveling and training and things you have to get done as well. 

With all that’s been happening lately, you haven’t been able to spend nearly enough time with Lando. Late evenings at work, long training days—everything seems like it’s been piling up until the only time you really get to spend with each other on days that he’s home is right before bed. And even then, it isn’t long before one of you inevitably falls asleep first. 

Which is why when you miraculously find yourself and Lando with a totally empty schedule today, free of any work related commitments for either of you, you’re over the moon. He suggests a day trip up the coast, just the two of you and the open road. Honestly, you don’t even care where you go, you just want to be with him. 

You’d think he’d be sick of driving given what he does for a living, but he just presses a kiss to your temple, saying that driving with you is something he’d never tire of. 

That’s how you end up here, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of Lando’s Miura, fingers intertwined with his as he cruises down the coastline. Crystal clear water dotted with boats and even bluer skies on one side, beautiful scenery on the other, and the man you love sitting right next to you—what more could you ask for?

“Like what you see?” Lando’s teasing voice draws you out of your thoughts, and you refocus to see him still with his eyes on the winding highway ahead. But he’s grinning rather smugly, a grin that only grows bigger when you huff. “It’s alright, you can stare at me all you want. I know how sexy you think I am.” 

“That’s bold. Maybe I’m admiring the view.” 

“Yeah, and the view is called my carved-by-the-gods side profile.” 

“Someone’s a tad self absorbed. You’re voted top three hottest drivers on the grid one time and you start getting a big head, hm?” 

“I beat out Carlos, baby! Carlos fucking Sainz! You’ve seen the man, do you know how that makes me feel?” 

“Is there something I should be worried about, Lan? Are you going to leave me for Carlos?”

Lando snorts, aiming a brief but still effective skeptically arched brow at you. “Please, if I was gonna leave you for Carlos, I would’ve done it already.” 

“Oh, cheers. That’s reassuring.” 

“Happy to help.” 

“Can I play some music? I need to drown out the sound of your complete and utter betrayal.” You grumble, slouching in your seat with crossed arms. Lando laughs and nods, passing you his phone. He knows you’re just being fussy for the dramatics of it all.

You scroll through his Spotify playlists in search of something that looks interesting, but one in particular instantly catches your eye. Labeled “For my love” with an absurd amount of heart emojis after, you can’t help but feel like maybe, just perhaps this one might be for you. Or for Carlos, but you’re ninety percent sure it's you. 

Next to you, Lando inhales sharply through his teeth like he’s just remembered something, hand shooting out blindly. “Fuck, wait, hang on—” 

“Lando…” You say, only slightly teasing. All previous betrayal is instantly forgotten. You shift so his wiggling fingers can’t reach the phone, giggling a bit at the garbled noise that escapes from his mouth. He’s obviously figured out what you’ve just come across. “What’s this?” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” He sighs, cheeks already flushing pink. “It was meant to be a surprise.” 

“You made a playlist for me?” 

“Well, yeah. It’s sort of embarrassing.” He mumbles, suddenly sounding bashful.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy on me now.” 

“Alright, fine! At first it was for me. Just songs I thought you’d like, and I’d listen to it all the times I was away and we couldn’t talk. Or if I was nervous before a race and started spiraling. And then…it just turned into songs that made me think about you. Made me think about us.” 

“There’s hundreds of songs on here, how did you even—when did you even start making this?” 

Lando swallows hard, knuckles flexing on the steering wheel.

“Honestly? The day we met. Call me a weirdo, but from the moment I saw you I knew you were it for me. Took both of us a while to get our shit together, but I never stopped believing it.” He says softly, hastening a glance over at you. He smiles and shrugs, reaching out to thread his fingers through yours once again. “And the songs…I dunno, they’re just my way of remembering how we got here. I meant to save it for our next big anniversary, but you’ve mucked it all up by being nosy, so now the cat’s out of the bag!” 

“You’re so fucking cute, babe,” You coo, leaning across the center console to press a smattering of kisses to the side of his heated face. “You made a whole playlist for me and listened to it when you missed me? That’s the cutest thing anyone’s ever done, you sap.” 

“Yeah, alright. You can shut up about it now,” He grumbles, but he still looks pleased. “Have a look through it. I think I’ve got some good ones on there.” 

The more you scroll through the list of songs, the more you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It mixes your music taste and his, and in a way, it feels very representative of not only who you are as individuals, but who you are with each other.  

It reads like a letter to you, to your relationship. To who you were back then and who you are now, who you’ve grown into together. 

There’s no doubt that in the years you’ve known each other, you’ve both changed. You’ve had good times and not so good ones too, but one thing that’s always remained is each other. From friendship, to teetering on something a little more, to finally finding love with one another, Lando has been the most unwavering constant in your life. You think that deep down, it was something you already knew, even from the first time you’d met him. 

“I’m gonna fucking cry, Lando,” You whine, emotion seeping into your words.

“Why? Is it bad? Is it too much?” He looks worried, but he can’t exactly take his eyes off the road to see why you’ve had the reaction you did.

“No, no. It’s perfect.” 

His shoulders sag in relief, and the smile returns to his face. “Oh. You like it?” 

“I love it.” You lift your joined hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles that has him positively beaming with adoration. It goes without saying, but you truly don’t think you could love a person any more than you love Lando. You don’t want to, because he’s it for you. 

“You know what else?” He hums his piqued interest, likely expecting more praise. “Carlos can suck it. I got a playlist, what did he get? Absolutely nothing!” 

“For fuck’s sake, I was kidding!” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[mbruben-stein]

Hey there! I want to give a request for Raphael, Leonardo, Donnatello and Michaelangelo who have S/O who isn't usually expressive and always so stoic that you might even think they are a robot but then they did something really silly and that's when they heard their s/o laughing for the first time.

TMNT boys Reaction to stoic s/o laughing in front of them for the first time.

Leo:

Leo had always admired his significant other's calm and collected demeanor. They were always so stoic, rarely showing any emotion, which sometimes made Leo wonder if they were even capable of feeling anything at all. But deep down, he knew there was more to them than meets the eye.

One day, while Leo was training in the dojo, his S/O came in to watch. As Leo practiced his moves, he couldn't help but steal glances at them, hoping for some sort of reaction. But as usual, they remained expressionless, their eyes fixed on him with unwavering focus.

But then, out of nowhere, Leo slipped on a training mat and fell flat on his shell. And to his surprise, he heard a sound he never thought he'd hear from his S/O - laughter. It was soft and gentle, but it was genuine.

Leo looked up in shock, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. His S/O quickly composed themselves, trying to hide their amusement behind a neutral facade. But Leo couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth in his heart at the sound of their laughter.

From that day on, Leo made it his mission to bring out more of his S/O's hidden emotions. He would do silly things, tell bad jokes, and even watch cheesy shows with them, all in the hopes of hearing that beautiful sound of laughter once again. And as they shared more lighthearted moments together, Leo knew that their relationship was stronger than ever.

Raph:

Raphael had always known that his significant other was not the most expressive person. They were always so stoic and serious, rarely showing any emotion. It sometimes made him wonder if they were even capable of laughing or smiling. But he loved them nonetheless, appreciating their calm and composed nature that balanced out his own fiery personality.

One day, Raph decided to do something completely out of character for him. He put on a silly hat, danced around the lair, and made ridiculous faces just to see if he could get a reaction out of his s/o. At first, they just raised an eyebrow at his antics, not showing any sign of amusement. But then, something unexpected happened.

As Raph continued to act like a complete goofball, his s/o's lips twitched ever so slightly. And then, to his utter surprise, they let out a small chuckle. It was the first time he had ever heard them laugh, and it was like music to his ears. Raph couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment at finally breaking through their stoic facade.

From that day on, Raph made it his mission to bring more laughter and joy into their relationship. He loved seeing his s/o's rare smiles and chuckles, knowing that he was the reason behind them. And as they both shared more lighthearted moments together, their bond only grew stronger, proving that even the most serious of souls could find happiness in the silliest of moments.

Donnie:

Donnie had always been fascinated by his S/O's stoic nature. They rarely showed their emotions, always maintaining a calm and collected facade. It was something that both intrigued and puzzled him. He often found himself wondering what was going on in their mind, behind that unreadable expression.

One day, while working on a new invention in his lab, Donnie got a little too excited and accidentally banged his head against the door, causing him to fall to the floor in a heap. His S/O, who had been quietly observing him from the corner, suddenly burst out laughing. It was the first time Donnie had ever heard them laugh, and it was a beautiful sound to his ears.

As he rubbed his sore head, Donnie couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. His S/O's laughter was contagious, and soon they were both laughing together, the tension and seriousness of the moment melting away.

From that day on, Donnie noticed a change in his S/O. They seemed more relaxed around him, more willing to let their guard down and show their true self. It was a side of them that Donnie cherished, knowing that he had somehow managed to break through their stoic exterior and bring out their hidden laughter.

As they sat together in the lab, surrounded by gadgets and gizmos, Donnie couldn't help but feel grateful for that accidental bump on the head. It had brought him closer to his S/O in a way he never thought possible, and he knew that their bond was stronger because of it.

Mikey:

Mikey had always been the most outgoing and expressive of the ninja turtles, so when he found himself in a relationship with someone who was the complete opposite, he was determined to crack their tough exterior. His significant other was always so stoic and reserved, never showing much emotion, which sometimes made Mikey wonder if they were even capable of laughing.

One day, Mikey decided to put his silly antics to the test. He set up an elaborate prank involving a rubber chicken and a whoopee cushion, hoping to finally see a smile on his s/o's face. As his plan unfolded, he watched with bated breath as his s/o's expression shifted from confusion to amusement.

And then, it happened. A small chuckle escaped from his s/o's lips, followed by a full-blown laughter that filled the room. Mikey's heart swelled with joy as he realized that he had finally broken through their tough exterior.

From that day on, Mikey made it his mission to bring laughter and joy to his s/o's life. He would come up with the silliest jokes and pranks just to see that beautiful smile on their face. And every time his s/o laughed, it was like music to his ears.

Mikey may have been the wild one of the group, but when it came to his s/o, he was the most caring and thoughtful partner anyone could ask for. And seeing his s/o finally open up and show their true emotions was a reward that he cherished more than anything else.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Interruption | Part 01.

-> Pairing: mafia!Kim Hongjoong x wife!Reader

-> Requested by: no one

-> Sypnosis: It's their anniversary night and business is the last thing on their mind when they're interrupted by someone smart enough to get through their security but not smart enough to realize who he's dealing with.

-> Warnings: mafia au. Mentions of debt, estranged father/daughter relationship, divorce, gangs, borrowing money from the wrong people. Gun. death threats. hints at murder.

-> Word Count: 1,424

->Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the taglist form.

Interruption Masterlist | Hongjoong Masterlist | Tag List Form

Hongjoong stands at the entrance of his family’s mansion, eagerly awaiting his wife as she finishes getting ready for their dinner reservations at the new upscale restaurant that just opened a few weeks ago. His parents have been singing its praises, insisting it was the ideal spot for their anniversary celebration. To ensure they would be alone and uninterrupted, he had reserved the entire venue for the evening.  

As he loosens his tie, contemplating whether to keep it on or not, the front door swings open, and his trusted right-hand-man, Park Seonghwa, steps inside. The expression on Seonghwa’s face conveys everything Hongjoong needs to know.  

He shakes his head, holding up his hand before Seonghwa can utter a word. “Not tonight, Hwa,” he tells him, not wanting to engage with whatever issue has arisen, while checking his reflection in the entrance mirror. Initially, he thought Y/N's idea of placing a mirror by the front door was absurd, but now he finds himself using it just as often as she does. “I assured Y/N there would be no interruptions or business tonight.”  

"I understand, but—" Seonghwa starts, only to be interrupted as Jongho, their head of security, and San drag in a man Hongjoong has never seen before. 

"I need to speak to your boss!" the man shouts, his voice echoing. "Let me talk to him!" he demands as he is thrown to the ground in front of Hongjoong.  

"Of all nights," Hongjoong mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes in frustration at the unexpected disruption. 

“Are you the boss?” the man asks as he scrambles to his feet, his confidence lowering as he takes in Hongjoong, gulping at the intimidating piercing look in the younger man’s eyes. 

“That would be me,” a woman's voice responds from behind Hongjoong as she descends the stairs. The man looks past Hongjoong, locking eyes with Y/N, who is elegantly dressed in a red, floor-length spaghetti strap dress, with her hair and make-up done to match her attire perfectly. Seonghwa, San, and Jongho bow slightly in respect as she makes her entrance. As she reaches her husband, his arm wraps around her waist and pulls her close, a protective gesture that speaks volumes about their bond.  

The atmosphere shifts, tension hanging thick in the air as the man’s bravado crumbles further under the weight of Y/N’s presence. Her presence was more intimidating than Hongjoongs.  

“Who do you think you are, barging in here like this?” Y/N’s voice is calm yet laced with authority, her eyes narrow as she looks at the strange man that intruded on her night and her home.  

The man stammers, caught off guard. “I... I just wanted to discuss a business matter,” he stutters, his voice now a mere whisper. “I thought-” 

“You thought what?” Hongjoong interjects, his tone sharp. “That you could make it past our security, demand to speak with us and that we’ll have a nice civil conversation?” 

“I... I...” he continues to stammer. 

“You’re lucky they didn’t shoot you as soon as they saw you,” Y/N adds.  

“We can still do it,” Jongho interjects, reaching for the gun he has holstered to his chest.  

Y/N holds up a hand, stopping Jongho, her eyes still trained on the blubbering man. “We might as well hear him out since he went to all this trouble.” 

“We have a reservation to get to, Darling,” Hongjoong reminds her and presses a kiss to her shoulder, a gesture meant to calm the growing raging storm he knows is brewing inside her. “We can put him in a room and deal with this when we get back.” 

“I would rather deal with this now,” she says. “After all, you did promise to do that thing that I like when we get back. I don’t want anything to get in the way of that,” she reminds him this time. “Seonghwa, call the restaurant and tell them we’re going to be a little late.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” the right-hand man bows before leaving the room.  

Y/N turns her full attention back to the man standing in front of her. "Now, start talking," she commands him, her tone leaving no room for defiance. "Before I reconsider and have one or both of the Mr. Choi’s put a pretty little bullet in your head.”  

“Th-there’s a gang that won’t leave my business alone,” he starts, visibly shaking as the threat hangs in the air. “Th-They keep harassing me, scaring off customers, breaking anything that they can get their hands on.” 

"No wife? No kids? Parents?" Hongjoong inquires, his gaze fixed on Y/N, anticipating her next move.  

"Divorced with one daughter," he responds. "Neither of them wants anything to do with me."  

"Why is that?" she questions, studying the man again, recalling her own past before meeting Hongjoong.  

Taking a closer look at him – desperate, middle-aged, clothes tattered and worn, relying on others to get him out of his own messes and overall, not a good person considering he’s tried to break into a well-known mafia house. He reminds her of her own father. A pathetic excuse for a husband and father and a man. She hasn’t heard his story and yet feels no pity for him. 

She feels Hongjoongs arm around her waist tightening knowing that estranged father-daughter relationships are a sensitive topic for her. 

It stirs up emotions she thought she had buried long ago.  

He swallows hard, his eyes darting to the floor. “I… I quit my job a few years back. It was a good job, but I wasn’t happy. None of us were. I tried to start my own business shortly after, but it’s been a disaster. My wife couldn’t take it anymore, and she left. My daughter… she blames me for everything. I haven’t seen her in years.” 

Y/N scoffs as the man searches for sympathy and understanding, but all she can think about is the pain of her own childhood, the nights spent waiting for a father who never came home when he promised to be there on top of all the heinous things that happened because of his absence.  

“The truth, Mr. I don’t know your name,” she says looking right through the shortened version of his sad life.  

“Mr. Mun,” he tells her. “Mun Dal Su.” 

“I don’t care,” she snaps at him. “I want the truth Mr. Mun. Why is this gang targeting you? I have a feeling it has to do with why your daughter hates you and your wife left you.” 

“I needed money,” he admits. “I borrowed some and haven’t been able to pay it back.” 

“And there we have it,” Hongjoong speaks. “Come on love, let's wrap this up so we can go have dinner.” He glances at Y/N, a silent reminder that they have more pressing matters to attend to.  

Y/N narrows her eyes at Mr. Mun, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You think this is just about money? Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into? How do you think coming to us will make it any better.”  

Mr. Mun’s shoulders slump, the fight leaving him as he realizes the gravity of his situation. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I thought I could manage it, but they don’t take kindly to late payments.” 

“No shit,” Hongjoong speaks up again. "Come on, Love. It's time to go," he turns to Jongho and San as he lets go of Y/N's waist. "Get him out of here," he tells them and moves to grab Y/N's coat. 

"You know what to do," Y/N tells Jongho as Hongjoong helps her into her coat.  

The two nod before bowing and grabbing Mr. Mun by his arms. The middle-aged man looks around the room panicked and starts to struggle against the two security personal.  

"Oh Mr. Mun, you won't have to worry about paying back those gangster's anymore," Y/N tells him as Jongho and San pull him from the house kicking and screaming. She turns to Seonghwa who just re-entered the room. "Can you ask Wooyoung and Yunho if they can look into Mun Dal Su and see if Yeosang can track down his family." 

"Of course," he nods. "Now, go and enjoy your evening. I promise no more disruptions." 

With that, Y/N turns her attention back to her husband. "I'm ready when you are," she says, a gentle smile gracing her face. 

He returns her smile, bringing her in for a soft kiss before linking their arms together and leading her out to the car waiting for them. 

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[yoredoesmore]

Is it cool if I request Hoshina Soshiro x Fem reader but Hoshina saw the reader drawing him on her sketch book a place can be anywhere.

Ok bye!

a/n: what a cute little request! Thank you so much for submitting something ^^

pairing: Hoshina x fem!Reader

summary: reader draws her vice captain as a cat (=^･ｪ･^=)

genre: fluff/romance/comedy [wc: 1.1k ]

enjoy!

Vice Catnip Hoshina | Hoshina Soshiro

It was one of those days again, where peace and quiet consumed Tachikawa Base. Most of today's schedule consisted of training sessions and important battle discussions– two activities that did not demand your presence as Operations Sub Leader. Your workload consisted of finding new information on the Kaiju and Improving the suit's functions.

Therefore you sat in the cramped space of your office, mind trapped in a cloud of concentration. You normally felt nothing but joy when pursuing your job. Every little achievement, be it fixing a small issue or handing in a report, made the pride in your heart grow. But today that energy had left you.

You felt little to no joy nor motivation, the mere thought of picking up the next file caused you immense stress. All you wished for was to lie down on your bed and enjoy the beautiful spring weather. But your next break was hours away and the way things were looking right now, with the huge pile of papers that sat in front of you, you wouldn't be out of her before midnight.

“Ugh..if only I wasn't alone.” You sighed, hands reaching for your mechanical pencil. While thinking about what piece of work to tackle next, you dragged your pencil over a ripped piece of paper, scribbling whatever came to mind. You found out that this was quite therapeutic and helped you blow off some steam sometimes.

As you looked down to see what you created, you were met with an abstract doodle of a cat.

You smiled.

The cat was holding a fish in her hand and her mouth sat wide open to devour it. Your eyes moved across the drawn lines, with nothing in mind at first, until you realized that its teeth looked awfully familiar. Two sharp fangs, where have you seen those before..?

Almost immediately an image popped into your head, the very face of your beloved Vice Captain. It was quite absurd, comparing Hoshina to a cat, yet the more you thought about it the more the resemblance struck you– until you were fully convinced that the Vice Captain looked just like a cat.

In any normal situation you would have allowed yourself a quick laugh and move on with your duties but for some reason imagining Hoshina as a cat was quite hilarious, thus you entertained yourself further with the thought.

“The Vice Captain as a cat..what would he look like exactly?” Your hands reached for your pencil case where they pulled out an eraser. Now fully equipped you felt ready to bring your imagination to life. You scribbled and drew and erased, trying to create a perfect reflection of your mind. Twenty minutes went by without you realizing, this new activity having you in quite a hold. You were so deep in thought that you didn't even hear the door opening.

As you drew the final line a hum of satisfaction escaped your lips. Your gaze admired the art you had put on your notebook, pride shining in your eyes.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

You froze.

The pencil you were holding on so tightly only seconds ago fell out of your hands, connecting with the cold floor and the blood in your body turned to ice as you finally perceived the new presence behind you. Slowly turning your body around, you were met with the curious face of your Vice Captain.

“No.” Was the only response you found yourself being able to come up with.

“But it says Vice Catnip at the bottom, slightly inappropriate if I might add but I'll let it slide because it's a good drawing.”

Ten minutes ago you were giggling and laughing at the slightly inappropriate pun you came up with. You spend a good amount of time thinking of cat related words that would either match Vice or Captain– Vice Cat-tain would have almost made it on the paper but the pronunciation felt off.

If only you would have gone with that one.

You sat there in silence, neither of you saying anything. Hoshina patiently waited for you to explain yourself but the only thing you wished to do was take the paper and rip it into thousand little pieces.

“It's you..” You finally managed to admit. You mentally prepared yourself to get the scolding of your life. Hoshina was not the type of guy who took any type of mockery lightly but instead of teasing words, you were graced with a heartfelt laugh. The man reached his hand out to grab the paper and give it a more thorough examination.

“Please don't look at it!” Your protest fell on deaf ears as the Vice Captain dragged his eyes over every line, carefully analyzing your art work. You were no match for him either. Desperately you tried to snatch the paper out of his grip but every time you lifted your hands, Hoshina pulled away at the last second. After two minutes you simply gave up and accepted your fate.

“I'm not mad if that's what ya thinkin.” He suddenly said, returning the art piece.

“You are not..?” Your hands reached out to receive it.

“It's quite cute. Me as a cat, never imagine that.” His little laugh slightly eased the tension in the air, allowing you to relax. Placing the drawing down, you started to explain to the Vice Captain how you ended up in this situation, so that he wouldn't get the wrong idea. To your surprise, he showed quite a lot of consideration and even admitted that he liked it when his colleagues joked around like that with him.

You laughed and chatted for a little longer, until all humiliation was forgotten.

“Ya figured what cat I would be?” Hoshina suddenly asked, catching you off guard.

“Hm..let me think. Probably the type that meows really loud for no reason.”

The look Hoshina gave you was priceless. “I meant..the breed.”

What is wrong with me??

Hoshina broke out into another fit of laughter while you were trying your best not to drown in a sea of shame. This was your first time interacting with the Vice Captain in such casual way. Although you have done nothing but humiliate yourself so far, this was rather nice. It was a good distraction from work and definitely worked better than random scribbles.

Bonus:

“Come again?"

“Looking at someone's drawing without their permission is quite rude, so it's only fair..” Your voice became a mere whisper at the end, yet Hoshina still heard everything clearly.

“Only fair, huh?” A long sigh escaped his lips as he cleared his throat.

Is he actually going to..

“Meow.”

You gasped.

The look on the Vice Captains face was picture worthy. To think that he'd actually comply and meow for you, it made your heart jump.

“Vice Captain..” Kafka stood at the door, accompanied by Reno and Shinomiya. They had come by to ask Hoshina something important but were instead met with something horrifying.

“..Did you just..meow?”

“No.”

[slytherinshua]

SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH

genre. fluff. warnings. eric's yapping abt furry stuff 😟 reader hates on furries. slight make out. not proofread pairing. eric x fem!reader. wc. 951. request. no. a/n. @hursheys i hope this fulfills your eric delusions ☝️ i kinda hate the ending but whatever we're gonna roll with it. net. @deoboyznet

“So then he was like ‘well that’s totally furry behaviour’, and, obviously, I took offense to that. Cause, like, hello that’s absurd! I’m not a furry. I just bark occasionally—”

You were all too familiar with Eric’s chronic insomnia. Much like a toddler, if he didn’t do enough during the day to exhaust his endless energy, he could easily stay up all night with no sense of time or how tired other people (you) were. You closed your eyes, still half-listening to your boyfriend’s rambling, although you had lost the context of it a long time ago. If you were lucky, you might even be able to fall asleep to his yapping…

As if.

“So I was like, ‘dude, I have a girlfriend, why would you even suggest that’!? They went without me— good riddance— and I blocked them too, so there’s no need to worry. Maybe this is what Kevin meant when he warned me to stop hanging out with random people I meet on the streets. But, I met you on the streets too, so I can’t trust anything Kevin says anymore. Imagine if I hadn’t stopped to get your number at the crosswalk? My life would be so boring now!” Eric continued animatedly, drumming his fingers against the pillow that rested in his lap, picking out the rhythm to one of The Boyz’s songs.

“And I might actually be able to get some sleep…” You interjected with a tired whisper, rolling on your side to face your boyfriend. You opened your eyes with a pointed glare, and Eric’s let out a small “oh”.

“Right. Sorry, baby. You should sleep.” He said quickly, plopping down next to you and planting a quick kiss to your forehead. He was quiet for around 3 minutes, before you heard a small whisper close to your face.

“You don’t ever regret taking my number, do you?” You opened one eye to find Eric staring at you, his eyes wide like a puppy’s. 

“No, I don’t regret it.” You said truthfully, a yawn coming in at the end of your response. Eric smiled slightly, his brain telling him that he should let you finally sleep, but it seemed his mouth had other ideas.

“What if I was a furry? Would you still date me?” You had to hold back a laugh at the question, assuming that it was a reference to his earlier rambling. Although you couldn’t recall how the full conversation had gone, you were pretty sure that even if you did, it wouldn’t help you understand Eric’s brain.

“Who said you weren’t already?” You asked sarcastically, earning a pout from the boy that was almost impossible to resist kissing. 

“What if instead of talking to you I just barked in response?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, silently judging his train of thought that was getting increasingly more unhinged with every minute that went by. You being extremely tired didn’t help with your patience for his incessant questions. You loved your boyfriend, you really did. But sometimes you just wanted him to shut up and let you sleep.

“What if instead of walking—”

Eric thankfully was not able to finish his sentence, which you could only assume had something to do with crawling on all fours or galloping around like a pony, because you had finally given in to your thoughts and shut up his rambling with your lips. He was shocked at first, frozen in place from your sudden movement. But kissing you was as natural as breathing to him, so he quickly found his rhythm, pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply. 

“Was that a yes?” Came Eric’s first words when you broke off for air. 

“If you mean breaking up if you became a furry, then definitely yes. Now shut your pretty mouth.” You stated clearly before crashing your lips onto his again, giving him no opportunity to protest.

It was surprising how easy it was to get lost in the kiss even when you were exhausted. With Eric eagerly leading, it was simple enough to just let him do most of the work. You tangled your fingers in his blonde hair as he squeezed your waist, letting his tongue slip past your lips gently. 

It seemed your kissing idea worked wonders to exhaust your boyfriend’s energy, as when he broke it off and fell back onto the pillow, he wrapped you up in his arms and let his eyes fall close. You could feel his heart racing, your ear resting over his chest. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink colour and his lips slightly swollen from the prolonged kiss. As his heartbeat slowed to a regular speed, you naturally matched your breathing with it, and the repetition lulled you to sleep quickly.

Eric held you tightly in his arms, listening to your steady breathing. He was tired, but his mind still raced with thoughts. Rather than meaningless questions he loved to throw at you, they all shifted to thoughts of you. He didn’t deserve your patience at the best of times, and was forever thankful that you truly loved him for himself. 

He knew he could be overbearing and exhausting at times, but he tried his best to balance it with the soft romantic moments that you and him both loved. You were quite similar to each other, the more Eric thought about. Although you were definitely more subdued, which balanced his exuberant energy quite well.

He sniffed, not having realized until now that his eyes had welled up with tears from his thoughts. He sheepishly blinked them away and held you a little closer in his arms, falling into his dreamland with you.

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys,, @gong-fourz

[prettyboytsum]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ day off I nanami kento pairing: nanami x reader tags: slice of life (maybe part of the series?), fluff, (no beta, we die like men) wc: 1,005

nanami kento doesn’t have days off.

ever.

in fact, nanami is the ideal employee, as per his (less than empathetic) bosses. he’s always punctual—clocking in at the exact time or ensuring he’s five minutes early to meetings. he’s reliable—even if the assignment was given the night before, rest assured he’ll have it done without working overtime. nanami has never requested for a day off—not for his birthday, not for meet-ups with friends, and not for special dates with you. he delivers the results necessary but rarely lacks or goes above and beyond.

it helps that he has a schedule. up at the crack of dawn—with only one alarm to wake him from his restful slumber. breakfast, a shower, and coffee all in an hour before he’s giving you your usual morning kiss and a reminder about your date that evening.

so, on one of the rare days that you aren’t needed in the office, and the chirping of birds or the slow sway of the sunlight doesn’t wake you up—an unusually warm body beside you does. you almost jump, this couldn’t possibly be your beloved. you half-expected to be able to spread yourself all over the bed for the morning, only to be denied when a lean body hits against your arm.

you groggily open one eye but your brain quickly works overdrive.

”don’t—don’t kidnap me,” you slur, sitting up quickly as you realize that there’s an arm around you. you rub your eyes, tripping over your words before you can muster up a more intimidating way to threaten this intruder. which, in retrospect, you don’t imagine to be very intimidating with your morning hair and nanami’s shirt as your pajamas dressing you. “’s not nice—i know a cop.”

”you do?” a voice responds, awfully familiar but you don’t let yourself get too comfortable. your eyes squint at the sunlight when you hear a gruff continuation. “i didn’t know any of our friends worked for the precinct.”

our friends? what type of friends could you even share with a—

you blink once. twice. before a realization dawns on you—one that swirls confusion, which seems to be a pre-requisite to the budding hope spreading throughout your chest.

”kento?” you ask, sitting a little straighter as you look at the space beside you. alas, your fiancé, in all his glory. nanami’s blonde hair sprawled over the white pillows, a mess before the usual pristine styling. his posture is relaxed, an arm resting behind his head as he looks at you with an amused expression, one that sits behind morning sleepiness that you haven’t been familiar with. not when he’s always the one to wake up. it doesn’t help that he’s topless. you find it a little unfair that he’s this attractive right after waking up.

”g’morning, darling.”

”good—good morning?! do you know what time it is?!” you splutter, looking at the bedside clock. of all your years of knowing him, nanami has never been late. you can’t help but think that tonight might be the first time he’s broken a global record.

you might have to start celebrating this milestone yearly.

”ten thirty-nine?” he muses, the amusement no longer hidden behind the usual morning grogginess. you look at him like he’s grown a third head.

”ten—ten?! kento, it’s way past your hours—”

”i know.”

”you know?! but you’re sitting here like you have a calvin klein shoot—”

”i took the day off.”

”you did what?!” you exclaim, almost as if you’ve heard the most absurd news of your life. to an extent, you kind of just did. “are you sick?”

”not that i know of, no, love,” nanami asks, now genuinely confused at your reaction. any other lover would celebrate a day where they could spend time together; a cafe, a slow day in, anything really. he finds your reaction amusing—and slightly disheartening. “is there a problem?”

there’s a silence as you soak it all in. a day. where nanami kento has willingly decided to not go to work. you can’t possibly fathom a reason why he isn’t clocking in his office with the most uncomfortable chair known to man. surely, there’s paperwork that nanami can’t miss out on—or so he claims every time you grumble about him leaving so early in the morning.

”problem? no. irregularity? yes.” you respond, finally shifting in the bed to turn to properly face him. he’s propped up by his arm—looking far too handsome for a man who just left his company in shambles (he didn’t). “you’ve never taken a day off.”

a pause as nanami thinks before he shrugs. “i guess i haven’t. there’s never been an urgent reason to file for one.”

"oh, and my—”

”yes, darling, your morning pouting is not categorized as urgent.” he responds, biting back an amused smile as you immediately let a huff out. the familiar jut of your lips only entertaining him further. “but it did do a number on me. i thought to take a day off so we could spend time together.”

you squint your eyes in response—almost accusingly as you cross your arms. he lets out a chuckle—a little rough with morning sleepiness but it’s attractive nonetheless. there’s a set of arms that wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re practically on his lap. nanami’s chin rests on your shoulder, your back to his chest as he keeps his arm around your middle.

”so suspicious? just cause of my day off?” he whispers into your ear, planting a kiss on your shoulder. your heart stutters. “had the whole day planned out, princess.”

there’s a familiar giddy feeling that spreads through your chest—a familiar sensation when it comes to being around nanami. one of his hands interlocks with your left, his fingers playing with the stone he bought you a couple of weeks ago. a promise for a lifetime together—and an unforgettable wedding, he assures you.

”i’m marrying you after all, it’s only right that i want to spoil my wife.”

✩ author's note: i need him in ways that are concerning to feminism. i need him with me. ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.

[rin-fukuroi]

Hi! How are you!

May I request semi-exhibitionism with Dan Heng and his s/o as she strokes his horns, chest, and back while giving him a handjob?

Hi! Thanks for the request!

I hope you're in a good mood and haven't died from waiting, my friend ♡(>ᴗ•)

𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 [𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Dan Heng x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, established relationships, semi-exhibitionism, handjob, dragon shape, excessive stimulation.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

art: @enirate

Ever since Dan Heng returned from the meeting, which he never said a word about, he looked rather depressed. Although, perhaps, it seemed to you that his eternally indifferent expression on his face began to look different only because your lover had changed in general. It was awkward to stare and ask to touch his unusual body parts, which were revealed to your eyes only now, when he guiltily explained and apologized to you for not telling you about his past right away, but since that day your head hasn't left the thought of what this iridescent mother-of-pearl scales feel like, adorning the tail, and how will Dan Heng feel if you touch his jade horns?

However, now is probably not the time for that either, but on the other hand, when will you ever see him in this form again? Dan Heng promised that he would return to his former form soon and who knows when you'll have another opportunity to explore these amazing features of your lover's body.

And, of course, it's very inappropriate to do this now, when both of you are trying to distract yourself from the intense events that took place at the Loufu by whiling away time at the festival in Aurumaton Allay, but patience has never been your strong suit.

— Dan Heng, — you stop when you both walk past a deserted alley, grabbing your lover by the wrist. — Shall we stop here for a while?

— Hm-m? — the man turns around, giving you an incredulous look, but still humbly follows you when you pull him around the corner of one of the buildings. — What happened, Y/N?

You look around, checking to see if anyone is nearby, before letting go of Dan Heng's hand, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

— May I… Touch your tail?

The man's emerald eyes widen as you lower yourself back down, looking at him with the most innocent look you're capable of.

—Wh-what? Right now?

— You said yourself that you'll return to your old form soon! Besides, what's the big deal? It's just a tail.

— Then why did you bring me here? — Dan Heng crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

— I thought it might embarrass you!

It's hard to argue with your absurd logic, and he doesn't even want to do it. Vidyadhara exhales heavily, dropping his arms in resignation before turning his back on you.

— Just do it quickly.

— So it's embarrassing for you after all! — you giggle maliciously, stretching out your hands to the long tail gently swinging on the asphalt.

The first touch was especially exciting. The scales, which previously seemed sharp, turned out to be quite pleasant and smooth to the touch when you slowly ran your fingertips over the surface of the tail. More confidently, you wrapped both hands around the tail, feeling it flinch slightly from a more tangible touch. It's amazing that Dan Heng's body has always been so warm, but his tail is quite cool. You gently stroke the slippery scales and slide your fingers along the ridge line, curiously watching the tail wriggle slightly in your hands.

Dan Heng confusedly blunts his gaze at the wall opposite, curling his fingers into fists.

— I think that's enough, — the man says sharply, indifferently turning back to face you and pulling his tail out of your grip.

— Hey! I haven't finished yet, — you puff out your cheeks, already about to scold your lover, but instead you look up, causing Dan Heng even more concern with your returned curious look. — Then can I touch them?

You point your finger at vidyadhara's horns, and Dan Heng suddenly backs away.

— Next time, it's time for us to go back, — the man is about to slip away from you, but you stop him by grabbing his forearm and forcing him to press against the wall of the building behind.

—Please, just once, — you plead, pressing your chest against Dan Heng's body and stretching your hand up.

— D-don't, Y/N… — your lover's words are cut off, replaced by a quiet languid sigh as soon as your curious fingers touch one of his horns, and you freeze, lowering your gaze back to Dan Heng's face.

The man's cheeks are powdered with blush, and his emerald eyes shyly avoid eye contact. He's really embarrassed! On the one hand, you wouldn't want to put your lover in an awkward position in a place like this, which anyone present at the festival can pass by at any moment, but on the other… Dan Heng looks so cute when you slowly slide down his horn, ripping another sigh from the man's parted lips.

Although he asked you to stop, it doesn't seem like your lover really wanted to. Each gentle touch of your fingers responds with an intoxicating tremor in the man's body, dissolving any objections that have settled on his tongue, and you only press on him even more, now wrapping your palm around the horn, gently tracing the tip with your thumb.

— Y/N… — Dan Heng whispers, leaning slightly towards your touch, but grabbing your forearm in a feeble attempt at protest.

— I didn't even think you were so sensitive here, — you smile, unclenching your fingers and leaving only the tips on the horn before slowly dragging them down. — Is it really that pleasant for you?

Dan Heng doesn't answer, instead blunting his gaze at his feet until he closes his eyes completely when the pads of your fingers reach the top again. The man finally gives up, just leaving his hand on yours. His legs weaken from the sweet impulses of pleasure tormenting vidyadhara's body, and Dan Heng shifts the weight of his body to the wall behind, barely restraining the moans that accumulate in his throat.

Despite his cold appearance, he has never shown much dominance over you either in life or in bed, but this is the first time you see him in such a mess. Dan Heng is so docile and lost in the thrall of the pleasant sensations that your fingers give him that you involuntarily catch yourself thinking that this isn't enough. Neither you nor him.

You extend your free hand forward, pressing your palm against Dan Heng's groin. A strangled moan still escapes from the man's chest when you gently grasp his erection through the fabric.

— Oh, are you really turned on by me touching your horns? — you ask mockingly, letting go of his horn, instead moving your hand to the bare skin peeking out of the neckline on the man's chest. — It seems that now you don't want me to stop?

— N-no … — Dan Heng answers quietly, turning away from your gaze.

— Does "no" mean that I can continue or…? — you tease your lover by wrapping your palm more tightly around the outline of a hard cock hidden behind your trousers.

You laugh when you get only a restrained groan in response, and slip your fingers under the fabric on Dan Heng's chest. Of course, you understand what he really wants, but you couldn't resist embarrassing your lover even more.

— If you moan so loudly, someone will definitely hear you, — you lean into Dan Heng's ear, whispering softly as your hand, resting on his dick, moves to the waistband of his trousers, carefully making its way down until it reaches his heated erect flesh. — I don't think I'd want anyone else but me to see you like this, so try to keep your voice down, okay?

Dan Heng's cock shudders when you squeeze the base in your palm, slowly sliding your fist up and down, not missing the opportunity to run the pad of your thumb along the urethra, smearing the pre-ejaculate on the elastic head. The palm on Dan Heng's chest gently squeezes the tense flesh before your fingers close on the man's nipple, gently pinching the hardened flesh.

You don't even notice how your breathing is getting short as the movements of your hand caressing your lover's cock accelerate. The sight of his flushed face and the feeling of his hips pushing slightly towards you every time your hand goes down the base are so tempting that a pleasant heat flares up in the bottom of your stomach, and moisture sticks to your underwear, forcing your legs to close around Dan Heng's exposed knee.

— Y/N… that's enough, I'm going… — the man clenches his teeth, holding back the loud moan stuck in his throat. Dan Heng's head hits the wall, and you feel his cock swell in your hand.

— Hush, hush, I'll take care of everything, — you laugh playfully, on the contrary accelerating your movements, pulling your other hand out from under the fabric on Dan Heng's chest to grab the waistband of his trousers, hurriedly lowering them lower along the man's hips.

Dan Heng resignedly presses the back of his hand to his forehead, exhaling in a strangled way as you squat, continuing to casually slide his palm over the base of the throbbing dick before wrapping his lips around the swollen head just in time to catch every viscous drop of sperm pouring out of the urethra with his mouth.

Vidyadhara lets out a hoarse restrained moan into the air, his hips tremble until the last sticky drop settles on your tongue, and the waves of orgasm do not subside, gradually returning Dan Han to reality. He feels your lips and palm pull away, exposing his sensitive penis to the coolness of the air, and the man's heavy eyelids open slightly, allowing turquoise eyes to meet your teasing gaze as you defiantly slowly swallow his sperm, licking your lips with satisfaction.

— Y/N, you… — Dan Heng says irritably, glaring at you from the height of his height, while you carefully straighten up, returning his trousers back to the belt.

— You should have seen your face. Can I take a picture of you next time while I'm stroking your horns and put it on my phone screen saver? — you laugh melodiously, putting your hands behind your back and leaning forward.

— No way. It won't happen again, — Dan Heng mutters discontentedly, turning around and indifferently walking back to the busy streets of the alley.

You giggle to yourself before catching up with your lover, aligning your step with his.

— O-oh, that's it! And I was hoping for a continuation in your room.

[babyleostuff]

Hi!! I rlly love your fics and i saw your requests are open so can i request svt with idol reader that gets shipped with another idol that reader is friends with?? Like what would their reaction be I hope this isn’t too much thank youuu !!

idol partner gets shipped with another idol | OT13

I'm SO sorry you had to wait so long for this one, but I've just started my vacation and wanted to take some time off. Still, I hope you enjoy this one <3 !

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams

𓆩♡𓆪 CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

As a leader and an idol himself, he’d know that there was nothing he could do about it. Of course, he’d be jealous and very protective of you, but I think for the most part he’d be sad. Sad because HE’S the one you're supposed to be shipped with, HE’S the one that’s supposed to show you off 24/7, HE’S the one who should be allowed to share your adorable face on Weverse with his fans. But in the end, he would be very mature about the situation and keep your relationship as low-key as he could, still showing how much he loves you in every way possible. 

𓆩♡𓆪 YOON JEONGHAN 

For the most part, Jeonghan wouldn’t really have a problem with you being shipped with other idols - friends or not. He knows that situations like these might occur, so he’s ready for any new headlines with you and someone else's face in it, but it usually never really bothers him. Sometimes, especially if he’s feeling particularly insecure, it might slightly get to him. He will always tell you about it though, he doesn’t want to keep any of his emotional insecurities from you, nor cause any miscommunication that might arise from such a situation. 

𓆩♡𓆪  HONG JOSHUA 

Does not care. He is very confident in the relationship that you have, he trusts you with his life, so there is no reason for him to be jealous of someone else that you’re getting shipped with. He knows that there is no point in doing so because if he were to focus on silly stuff like shipping he would spend all his energy on that instead of you. So in his mind, let them ship you with whoever they want to because at the end of the day, he’s the one you’re going back to. 

𓆩♡𓆪  WEN JUNHUI 

In the beginning of your relationship when situations like that happened, he would get a little bit sad and distance himself from you for a while. You’d tell him every single time that he’s the only one that you love and want and that you would never choose anyone else over him. Thanks to your reassurance with time he stopped paying attention to any “shipping news”, realising that they’re a lot of bullshit anyways. It’s not like you’d run away with a random dude from the headline you’ve never even met.

𓆩♡𓆪  KWON SOONYOUNG 

Might get a bit insecure and a bit sad. He would try to put on a brave face for you, not wanting to add any more worries for you, knowing that you wouldn’t REALLY leave him. But inside, he couldn't stop the insecurities from getting to him. Every time he’d see any new news with you and another idol, he’d be really torn and full of worry, especially if it was a friend of yours. What if one day you decide that he’s better than him and leave? You’d quickly realise how sad your boyfriend seemed and get him back to his usual self with a lot of reassurance and kisses.  

𓆩♡𓆪   JEON WONWOO

Nah, he doesn’t care. He knows that you're his and he’s yours, period. There is no point in dwelling on stuff like that, he knows that it’s bound to happen eventually, both to you and him. Sometimes you’d even laugh about the absurd shipping and dating rumours, finding it hilarious how you could be accused of dating someone you haven’t even met before. If you were shipped with one of your friends, the situation wouldn't be that much different, he’d be just a bit more touchy with you in the presence of your friend, reassuring himself that you weren’t going anywhere. 

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE JIHOON

Another one that wouldn't bat an eyelash. Does not care in the slightest. You’re both very confident in the relationship that you have, you trust each other and always talk about any insecurities you have when it comes to your relationship, so there is no reason for him to be jealous of you. Both of you find the rumours hilarious, making some kinds of bets on who's going to be the next person you’d get shipped with. You’d turn these situations into games, making fun of it and not taking it seriously whatsoever. 

𓆩♡𓆪  XU MINGHAO 

Couldn't care less. He finds the whole “shipping” concept funny, because how can people ship you with someone you just GLANCED at? And you’re supposed to be in love just because you looked at each other? Please. He knows the consequences of your jobs, that you’d get shipped with other idols, so you both had to be ready for any new rumours that were bound to happen. He would be the one to reassure you every time anything happened, that he is IN LOVE with you and nothing could make him leave you. 

𓆩♡𓆪  KIM MINGYU 

Even though he trusts you COMPLETELY and tries explaining himself that you wouldn’t leave him, he’d get sad and really heartbroken. He’d be pouting every time he’d see any new news of you being shipped with a new idol, getting a bit insecure about himself. He’d try to cover his emotions about the situation around you, trying to be strong and unbothered, but you’d know immediately how he was feeling. You’d baby him and kiss him endlessly, telling him that he’s the only one you love. If you were shipped with an idol friend though, he’d be VERY touchy with you around him, showing him that you were only his. 

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE SEOKMIN 

Another one that would need a bit of reassurance. In general, he wouldn’t spend that much time focusing on any rumours or scandals that might occur because of shipping, but from time to time he’d need a bit of extra love from you. It happens usually when he’s away on tour or doing promotions when thousands of kilometres are between you two and he can’t be with you in person. He’d try to distance himself, but you’d know immediately what was going on. You’d stay on FaceTime for hours before one of you didn’t fall asleep, and you’d text a lot, more than usual, trying to silently reassure him that he’s it for you. 

𓆩♡𓆪 BOO SEUNGKWAN 

Soooo dramatic. Wouldn’t be jealous, but a bit angry. Not on you of course, but on the people shipping you with other idols. He knows it’s normal in the field of your work, but non the less, gets so annoyed every single time. He’d walk around your apartment with his phone in his hand and talk his head off, about the edits and photos he’d seen on his feed, bitching on the people that made them. Just because you breathed around another man doesn’t mean you’re in love. In the end, he would still seek a bit of reassurance from you, which you’d happily grant him - kisses and cuddles always brightened his mood. 

𓆩♡𓆪 CHWE VERNON 

He wouldn’t even know that you were being shipped with anyone. “Babe, did you I’m being shipped with Wonwoo?”. “What? 🧍” Neither of you cared about the rumours, you didn’t even bother checking any headlines or news. Jealousy wasn’t a big thing in your relationship, as you both had a big trust in each other and the communication between both of you was at its finest, so there were no reasons to feel any insecurities or doubts. If you were shipped with any of your friends, you’d just laugh about it, not making it a big deal. 

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE CHAN 

He would reassure you that he didn’t care every time you’d get shipped with other idols, but you knew he was actually sad about it (as if the big pout on his face wasn’t the biggest giveaway). You would give him a lot of kisses, telling him again and again that he was the only one you loved. Then, when all of his doubts were gone, he’d laugh with you about the situation. You’d probably go on TikTok and make fun of all of the absurd edits of you and the person you got shipped with. Even when you were sure he wasn’t feeling bad about it anymore, you’d give him some extra kisses, just in case. 

[hotchgirlsummer]

There’s barley people on this app that make good bimbo reader! You are amazing!! Could u do one where she goes to his office for lunch and after they eat she gets sleepy so he lays her on his couch to nap and she’s like “so sleepy”

summary ⤷ There's nothing more one looks forward after lunch than napping with the love of their life.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ nothing but fluff! maybe some heart to heart talk?

word count ⤷ 1.6k words

a/n ⤷ no cause you are so sweet 🥺🥺🥺🥺 this took a long while to get done as february was a busy month for me. hopefully you like it!also!! to get back in the habit of writing, drabble requests are open! ☺️

masterlist

"Your food delivery's here!" Y/N giggled cheerfully as she opened Aaron's office door but her cheery expression was halted when she noticed that Dave and Emily were also in the room as they were previously discussing important; she looked at the other two agents and shot them a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry I didn't get you guys anything, can I make it up next time? Did you guys like the chocolate mousse or the cupcakes that I brought last time?"

"i liked both, I do have a craving for your chocolate mousse," Came Emily's immediate and well-thought of reply, which earned her smirking looks from the two men, "What? Y/N's a great baker and I love all of her treats."

"Aw, you're too sweet to me, Em," Cooed the younger woman and hurriedly hugged the noirette tight, "I'll bring some next time I visit here, kay?"

"As much as Emily and I would love to chat more with you, I believe there's a certain commander of ours who'll get grumpy if he doesn't ear his lunch," Rossi remarked as he took note of the rather tight-lipped expression that Hotch was wearing; Emily smirked as well once she broke off the hug and took a good look at their unit chief, "You're right, Rossi. It seems like they might even need to be put down for a nap."

Y/N waited until the two were out of the room before placing the lunch bag on his desk, making way to where Aaron was and sat comfortably on his lap, lacing her arms around his neck as she wondered, "Did you guys get a new team member?"

"What makes you say that, sweetheart?" Aaron questioned back as he busied himself with stroking her cheek as he kissed her nose before landing a sweet kiss on her lips.

"Dave was talking about a commander, do you have an army teammate?" Her cute head tilt made it hard for the unit chief to explain what Rossi really meant. Instead, he went along with her understanding by agreeing, "No, sweetheart. But wanna know a secret?"

Her cute gasp as she nodded excitedly, prompted him to reveal, "Sometime I don't really understand what Dave says. We all just go with what he says and make him think he's making sense."

Smacking his shoulder slightly, she reprimanded him, "That's mean, Aar. You be nice to Dave! Or else he won't make me anymore of his delicious lasagna." Leaning forward to press a kiss on her glossed up pout and chuckles at her, "Well don't worry, I will cook all the meals you will ever crave for."

"You are a great cook," She pondered for a bit before her eyes drifted over to the lunch bag she had carried with her, perking up in excitement as she remembers, "Oh! I brought you lunch! I made a it all healthy like you want, with produce, filer, and gains!"

As she was opening the covers of the tupperware, Hotch nodded to himself as he understood better what she was trying to convey, "Protein, fibre, and grains," He listed as he saw the chicken, eggs, banana, grapes, and some nuts. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, sweetheart," He said, with a voice full of love as he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Shaking her head as if what he said was absurd and lifting the forkful of food by his mouth, cupping her free hand underneath the fork in case some food fell off, "But I really wanted to see you, and I knew you didn't pack any lunch with you. Plus, you always cook for me and I wanted to return the favor, you know?"

Taking the bite she had prepared for him, he hummed appreciatingly as he smiled up at her, "I'll forever be grateful for this, sweetheart. It's been a while since I had a pretty girl bring and feed me lunch."

Giggling as she scooped some of the eggs and brought it to her mouth, "Just say the word and I can make this an everyday arrangement! Oh, would you need a personal assistant, Aar?"

"And no, I don't think I need one. Besides, I'd love it more if you busied yourself with your designs, sweet."

"Oh! Speaking of my designs, I worked on more today! I came up with this dress that comes down mid thigh and it has this Venus cut on the shoulders. Though for a while I struggled because I wasn't sure if I wanted the design to be simple sparkles to look like stars or have like embroidered flowers on it," It was apparent on her satisfied smile as she fed him more chicken that she was immensely proud of the result, "Can't wait to show you what it looks like once I've made it!"

"I can't wait to see it either. Maybe you can give me a fashion show hm?" Rubbing her back to settle her pent up excitement.

"Well maybe not right away, I have these shoes in mind that I wanna buy that will tie up the whole look."

As he was fed another bite, Aaron felt around for his wallet before speaking, "Why don't you take my card when you buy it?" Scoffing in mock offense, she shook her head and feed him another spoonful as if to silence him from making more silly suggestions, "Well excuse me for wanting to use my hard-earned money. You can't be the only one who will do all the spoiling of me. Or for me," She pouts as she looked up at him, "You do know what I mean, right?"

"I always do, sweetheart," He reassures which brings out a bright, toothy smile from her.

From there on out, Hotch filled her up on what the latest happenings within the team are — he of course left out the gruesome details of the cases are, but instead what the latest life updates of team members. And in return, she shared memorable interactions with her customers.

While he was recalling how Spencer pulled a prank on Derek with the help of Blake, Hotch's keen eye noticed that Y/N was scooping eggs but instead of feeding it to him, she fed it to herself.

"Hey! I thought those eggs were for me?" He jokingly scolded her when the bite of eggs went to her; as if to make up for it she gave him a big serving of the eggs before answering his question, "Well it's because I had such a busy day, Aar! I cleaned the apartment, cooked food, and I worked on some more designs!" She laid her head on his shoulder as she passed the fork to him — which allowed the unit chief to this time feed for himself as he noticed that the exhaustion of her day's activities was catching up on Y/N. "So ready for a nap, Aar."

"Yeah? Your tummy's all full so you're ready for a nap now?" While his voice was teasing her , Y/N did not register it as such and instead took it as concern for her well-being. Snuggling further into his neck while her hand busied itself by rubbing his chest lovingly, spreading warmth on his entire being.

"Can I go lay on your chest? Wanna stay with you while I nap," She was a hundred percent sure that he would give in but Hotch knew that if she did let him lay on him like this that one, work that needed to be done that day would not get accomplished which means more time not spent with Y/N and Jack. And second, it would be likely that a team member will barge in and poke at him for letting his guard down.

Against his will, he shook his head as he lifted her body in his strong arms — he smiled to himself upon feeling her snuggle close — and laid her on his office couch, he draped her with the soft, faux fur blanket her purchased after her first visit into his office and she made some comment about what will keep him warm while he works and she was not there to snuggle him.

"I won't take more than two hours and then we're out of here, okay?"

"Mmkay, I'm just gonna nap here, Aarbear. Wake me up when it's time for us to go, okay?" She immediately nuzzled herself into the blanket, leaning against his soft lips when he pecked her cheek softly.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," He muttered softly before promptly returning back to his desk; now motivated more than ever to brisk through this mountain of paperwork if he had any desire of spending his time with her and Jack for the evening like they had originally planned.

It wasn't until twenty minutes in when he had the expected visitor that took place in the form of Derek Morgan. Polite knocks followed by him entering the office, the Chicago native smirked as he spotted the sleeping form of his boss' girlfriend. "I see you got yourself a sleeping beauty," He remarked as he placed the files on the desk.

"Don't worry, I'll wake her up with a kiss before we leave," Hotch joked as he thanked him for the files he got accomplished. Taken aback with how he cracked a joke on his own, Derek replicated his chuckle and said, "Honestly though, Hotch, she's really good for you."

Putting the pen down as he took in his words and stared lovingly at her, "Not only that, but I she is the one for me, Morgan."

[whipitgod]

Totally Normal, Non Romantic Bro Moment

Dean x Castiel

oneshot - wc: 2k

summary: Dean is the only one who doesn’t realize he’s dating Cas

warnings: blatantly and boldly ignoring canon, a little crack-ish as per usual, some light swearing and little bit of spice (they kiss but that’s it)

a/n: Thank you for all the support on the last few oneshots!! this is the first time i’ve ever written for destiel or supernatural so it might be a bit ooc! If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Sammy!” The sound of his brother calling his name makes Sam sit up quickly, having dozed off whilst trying to finish a book he had started ages ago but could never manage to find the time to complete. He pushes himself off his bed with the intent to meet the older Winchester in the kitchen where he heard him yelling from. Before he even has a chance to reach for the door handle the door flies open, Dean entering the room with a startling amount of aggression.

Sam puffs out an irritated breath at the man's behavior, “Of course you can come in-” he pauses slightly taking in the flustered nature of the hunter now pacing back in forth and grumbling quietly to himself; a look of concern crosses Sam’s face, mouth turning down slightly, “Are you alright, did something happen?”

Dean’s head snaps towards him then, looking at him for the first time since he had burst into the room, “Yeah, i’m fine man,” he gets a look on his face like he tasted something bitter before rushing out an agitated, “no actually i’m not fine.” Sam tilts his head slightly at this urging Dean to continue with a wave of his hand; Sam notes that the man has yet to stop pacing.

“Bobby said someth’n weird earlier that's got me thinking,” Dean hesitates for a moment almost like he’s second guessing even bringing it up, “he uh,” another slight pause, brows furrowing, “he seems to think i’m dating Cas.” he takes a deep breath after he says this, a common action when he gets too worked up over something.

The younger Winchesters' brows crease in confusion at this, Dean taking this as a sign that his brother finds the notion absurd lets out a relieved breath. His relief is only short lived, Sam shaking his head slightly before questioning, “Is that it?” Dean's expression hardens, agitation returning and causing his shoulders to tense.

“The hell do you mean ‘is that it’, this is a big deal!”

Sam lets out a small laugh at his brother's frustration, “Was he not accepting?”

The anger leaves Deans features, a look of confusion taking it’s place, “The fuck does that mean?”

“Was he not accepting of your relationship with cas?” Sam now wears a look of confusion mirroring Dean’s. The older man stops pacing at this question, brows furrowing even further than Sam thought possible.

“What relationship?” The anger gone from Dean’s voice, tone now mired in confusion.

Sam looks at his brother like he’s lost his mind, “The relationship you have with Cas,” he searches Dean’s face for any sign that the man is joking, not finding any he pushes on, “You guys have been dating for months.”

Dean seems to short circuit at this, blinking several times before letting out a disbelieving scoff, “I am not dating Cas,” a nervous laugh escapes him, “That’s insane, I knew you were crazy but not that crazy.”

Sam stares blankly at him and Dean rushes to continue, “I mean the idea of Cas and I dating is laughable,” another nervous laugh accompanied by a growing redness in his face, “Why would you even think that?”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the question, a sharp bark of laughter leaving him before he can stop it. He tries again to find any sign that his brother is joking but the man's expression is steely, jaw clenched in frustration, “Oh wow, you’re serious.” At this Dean lets out an angry huff opening his mouth to start speaking before closing it again, teeth grinding together.

“For starters, you guys act like an old married couple all the time,” Dean opens his mouth to disagree but Sam cuts him off, “you guys also frequently gaze into each other's eyes for extended periods of time.”

“We do not!”

“Just last week you guys had a whispered discussion before staring into each other's eyes for five minutes,” Dean’s expression turns contemplative, “five minutes might not be accurate actually,” Sam thinks for a moment, “It was probably longer, I didn't stand around to time it.”

Dean releases an irritated noise before rushing to defend himself, “We were having a moment!” Sam’s expression turns amused at the sentence and Dean jumps to amend it, “A bro moment! A totally normal, non romantic bro moment!”

Sam quirks a brow at this, a teasing smile threatening to overcome his features. Dean lets out another frustrated sound, “It’s a normal dude thing, it’s what pals do!” Sam kind of wants to let Dean continue floundering, if only to see how many synonyms he can find for the word ‘bro’; he decides against it, deciding to put Dean out of his misery.

With a gentle sigh the younger man pushes himself up so he’s sitting fully upright, “Bobby and I aren't the only ones who think you guys are together,” He thinks for a moment, “Actually, I'm pretty sure you are the only one that doesn't think you guys are dating.”

Dean is quiet at this causing him to continue, “I don't know man, it's something you should think about,” Sam stands and walks over to the door with the intent to find something for dinner, “maybe you should talk to cas about this.'' With that he pulls the door open not waiting for the other man to respond, and without sparing another glance in Dean’s direction he walks down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Dean stands motionless for a few minutes before managing to snap himself out of the daze the conversation had left him in. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he makes the short trek to his own bedroom; Closing the door behind him and letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, he lets his mind wander to memories of all of the interactions he and Cas had had recently.

Sure they were close, their relationship probably closer than most other mens, but that didn't mean they were together! Sure they had kissed a few times when they were both a little too drunk but that didn't mean anything! It was normal to kiss your bro when you had a few too many. This line of thinking does nothing to quell the internal turmoil he was feeling; his mind now stuck on memories of the kisses they had shared on rare occasions that were never discussed once they were sober.

Dean huffs a bitter laugh, “I don't even like men.” The phrase feels wrong as it leaves his mouth. He had never really given much thought to whether or not he liked men, but now that he was thinking about it he’s met with a startling realization, “Oh god, do i?”

He thinks back to all of the men that he had ever found attractive, the ones he was a bit too fascinated by; having written off the fascination as a friendly interest at the time, he finds himself realizing that some of the interest really wasn't all that friendly.

His mind wanders to cas, remembering all of the things they had done together that had, at the time, seemed innocent and friendly; now that he’s looking back on them they seem to be a little bit too intimate to be friendly. There was also that one dream he had a few weeks back that had made being around cas very awkward for a few days, the memory of the dream alone making his face heat up. He loses track of the amount of time he stays lost in thought, his mind spinning in circles as he thinks about the dynamic he has with the angel.

He reaches a conclusion that makes him suck in a sharp breath, “Oh god, i'm in love with cas.” It comes out as a disbelieving whisper. He doesn't know what to do with realization but now that he’s said it outloud it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

A Few Days Earlier

Dean can’t help but watch Cas's side profile as the man takes another swig from the almost empty bottle of whiskey; Dean had tapped out before the bottle had even been opened, the angel needing way more alcohol than Dean could stomach to even get a buzz. The hunter isn’t quite sure how many bottles of assorted liquor cas had drunk at this point but it was clear the man was feeling the effects of them, his eyes a little droopy as if he was struggling to see clearly. Dean wasn’t in much better shape, his eyes struggling to focus as he watched the angel’s Adam's apple bob as he drank. Without realizing that he was even moving he reached up and grabbed the bottle from Cas's hands, taking a quick drink of it before setting it down in front of them.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Dean's tone is light when he says this, almost teasing. Cas meets his eyes with a dazed smile and Dean’s eyes get stuck on the curve of his lips.

He wants to kiss him. The thought doesn't scare him like he thinks it should, he supposes it wouldn't be the first drunken kiss the pair had shared; alcohol acting as a cover for the real emotions at play that Dean really didn't want to deal with.

Before he can think better of it he leans in, cas letting out a surprised noise as their lips meet before melting into the kiss. The thought that they shouldn’t be doing this crosses Dean's mind but he stamps it down quickly when he feels cas reach up and tangle his fingers in his hair. They stay like that until dean pulls away slightly to suck in a few panting breaths, their foreheads stay touching as they stare into each other's eyes. Dean remembers, bitterly, that tomorrow this would become another one of the little moments that he's too afraid to discuss. With that floating around his head he leans back in with a little bit more force than necessary, their teeth clacking together as their mouths meet.

Present Day

He blinks away the memory, shaking his head slightly and digging in his pocket for his phone, he finds cas’s contact and hesitates for a moment before hitting the call button. The sound of the phone ringing does nothing to calm the anxiety he’s feeling but before he can second guess himself cas picks up.

Cas answers the phone with a soft, “Hello?” and dean feels his heart in his throat.

“I think I'm in love with you.” He had not meant to blurt it out like that, and he curses quietly to himself as he waits for Cas's response.

“I mean it would be kind of weird if you weren’t given that we’re dating.”

Dean pauses at this, a flood of emotions hitting him and causing him to let out a sound reminiscent of a gasp, “What?”

“We’re dating,” there's a pause from cas and the rustle of papers being moved, dean briefly wonders what he’s doing before he realizes what the man had said. Dean's mouth opens and shuts a few times as he struggles to find the appropriate words.

Cas continues speaking, seemingly oblivious to the internal struggle that Dean is having, “We had a date a few days ago,” more rustling, “we got pizza and then got drunk and made out.”

Dean is at a loss for words, he lets out a choked sound before starting to laugh, the kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt. It takes him a minute to regain his composure, wiping a tear that had escaped during the laughing fit he takes a deep breath before responding, “Yeah i guess we did.”

“Are you feeling alright?” The question sounds so sincere it almost causes Dean to spiral into laughter again but he manages to hold it in.

The hunter pauses for a moment thinking about the question, “Yeah,” he’s smiling so hard his cheeks are starting to hurt, “i’m great.”

[i984]

Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade | Part 1

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, mentions of gore, Wednesday being uncharacteristically tame, reader likes to test boundaries, Wednesday gives bone-breaking hugs, no beta; we die like my brain cells.

|Summary|: You test your luck by putting Wednesday Addams in a compliment jail. 

|Word count|: 2.7k words

|A/n|: I ended up not changing a thing. I took some liberty with your request 💡anon, hope you still enjoy it! | Part 2 is available in my masterlist.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Love  

It does wonders for a person. 

And for you? Well, it makes you spew the utmost revolting, foolish, and absurd things out of your mouth—Wednesday's words, not yours. You think it's her way of saying she likes the compliments you practically shower her with. 

At first, you didn't even realize you were doing it. You could be sitting next to the raven-haired girl in class, having some lunch together, reading books in the library, or on your occasional walks around town, and you only have one single recurring thought that you can't seem to get out of your mind; 

Wednesday Addams—your precious sadistic little girlfriend—is so pretty.  

And not to be shallow or anything; after all, you like her for many different things. Her intelligence, wittiness, and her I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. Her obsession with everything macabre, the monochromic-colored outfits that perfectly suit her, and the way she uses words you can't even begin to comprehend half the time. 

But then there's the way her hair has that lustrous glow, and then the rare grin she cracks when it's just the two of you, the constant little pout in her lips, and don't even start about her plump dark burgundy lips; Oh, you wanna kiss her-  

"-so bad," you mumbled out absent-mindedly, and Wednesday slowly looked up from her double cap—mouth gaping slightly at the suddenness of your words—her eyes blinking rapidly at you.  

"Oh- no no no I was just thinking and I got distracted because your lips look SO pretty!" Your voice was louder than you had intended for it to be, and you quickly covered your mouth—a pointless act as the slip-up had already been done. 

Wednesday only spared you a sharp glare before standing up from your shared sofa booth, already heading towards the Cafe entrance. Before you can even explain yourself, she had already bolted out, leaving you and her double cap behind. 

You know that Wednesday is not big on PDAs; soft kisses and gentle touches are reserved for private quarters. And even then, you can tell that her moves are calculated—afraid of doing too much that she'd find herself in a compromising position. 

But you didn't miss the darkening of her freckle-painted cheeks as she snuck a peek at your figure from outside Weathervane, and that's when you realized; 

Oh.  

Well, this is gonna be fun. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk to your dorm room with a dopey grin on your face, recounting the things that happened earlier.  

You've figured it all out. Wednesday might act like she isn't affected by other people's words and opinions about her—and in most cases, this is true—except when it comes from you.  

She caught you wearing a hoodie of hers? Now you have three more in your closet. You respond a beat late to some disputable thing she mentions? She immediately apologized for being insensitive and asked your take on the subject. You told her that she looked good in that checkered sweater? Now she wears the piece of garment all the time. Ask her to binge-watch all 10 seasons of My Little Pony with you? It would give her nightmares for weeks, yes, but absolutely.  

You quickly realize that you're one of the few people lucky enough to have Wednesday tolerate you to a certain degree. So you do the obvious—run after Wednesday after leaving some money on the table, and then shout at the top of your lungs, "I LIKE YOUR LIPS WEDNESDAY ADDAMS"  

You swear to God, you've never seen someone bolt out of your view so quickly. She didn't even spare a single disapproving glance at you—on normal occasions she would—but now, as people stop in their tracks to see who your words are pointed to, she's gone, nowhere to be seen.  

It's cute, how much she's affected by your words. And that's why, as you open your dorm room door, you walk straight to your thinking desk past a figure, planning to come up with new ways to fluster your girlfriend. 

Wait. Past a figure? 

You turn your head to see Wednesday Addams standing still, looking daggers at you, and you know things are about to go down.  

You smile coyly at her while taking a seat. The raven-haired girl's gaze trails your every movement. She looks almost predatory in this state. Like she's about to tear you apart to shreds. 

You hold your head high as you speak, "Is something wrong, Wens?" A pet name. You've heard Wednesday made it clear time and time again to Enid that she was against pet names. And you've never called her one before. But you're willing to gamble your life this time just to see how far she would tolerate you. 

So you maintain your perfect facade, and it was all worth it as you see Wednesday's eyes widen at the morbidity of your words—the good kind, you'd assume—and you saw her mouth open and close a couple of times, trying to say something deprecating and failing acutely.  

She stands awkwardly like that for a moment; her hands making little gestures as if she was trying to make a point while maintaining her look of utter disbelief at your behavior. 

You figured if you didn't egg on her a little more, she wouldn't let her guard down, so you decided to turn your back on her and pulled out a book to read. 

"What are you doing?" You can hear the stress in her words. You can picture her look right now; her jaw clenched, teeth gritted, brows furrowed in dismay. 

"I'm reading a book, as you can see with those pretty brown eyes of yours." You flipped a few pages, eyes tracing along the shape of letters and words, not really paying any mind to the actual content. 

"All right then," exasperation is evident in her voice, and you have to fight yourself from snickering at the situation. 

You've always been very careful around Wednesday, trying not to agitate her into giving you snarky comments—she still gives them nonetheless, and you find it amusing as time goes by—but curiously, she's not giving you any at the moment. And if you are to guess, it's probably because she physically can't bash you for your words. Not when she's fighting for her life with feelings she refuses to acknowledge most of the time. 

You hear her footsteps grow distant—she's heading for the door, you figured���and you don't even bother to look up as you say, "Come back soon, tesoro,"  

The sound of footsteps ceased. 

"Are you really going to keep doing this?" You can tell by Wednesday's voice that she is trying so hard not to burst at your display—you were never like this after all—from rage or the compliments, you don't know. But you figure you'll find out if you pick the right words. 

"Keep doing what, Wens?" You spin in your chair to her, your voice dripping with honey, with faux innocence. You can see her face turn colors into one of carnation, her lips thinning into a line as she tears her gaze apart from you. 

"You. Know. What." Wednesday strains every word, her tone is low as if to intimidate you, but you know the ball is in your court. 

"What? Telling you how pretty your lips are? In front of a lot of people? 

"Yes, exactly-" 

"And that I wanna kiss those lips of yours so badly? Dark plump lips like yours are my favorite, by the way," you look at her in the eyes as you speak, and you let your gaze trail down her face, and Wednesday fidgets with the hem of her top. 

"Oh wait, actually, you are my favorite." 

Wednesday glares at you—an act that usually works with Enid and everyone else when she wants to avoid certain conversations—but you are unfazed. You have her exactly where you want right now, and judging by the absence of a knife in her hand, you're going to assume that she's more than okay with what you're doing.  

"But wait. Oh. Is this about the fact that I know you blushed so hard when I complimented you? Every single time, did you notice that?" You stood up from your seat, throwing the book atop your desk.  

"I know you like it, Wens," you smirked, the nickname easily sliding out your tongue the more you said it, "I know you like me."  

"Oh, you are so full of yourself-" 

"You know what else I like? The way your pout grows bigger—as we're speaking right now, yes," and you see her face growing a scowl as you take a step closer towards her, "and now you're clenching your jaw slightly, god, you look so cute doing that."  

"I do not look cute, and if you cut my words off-" 

"Do you know that your micro facial expressions are probably the most adorable thing I ever get to witness?" 

"-again, I will cut your tongue and force-feed it to you."  

You ignore your girlfriend's words, continuing the torture you've devised for her. "No, not probably. Definitely the most adorable thing ever."  

A broad grin sprouted on your face, the one Wednesday always calls 'the idiotic grin' but you know she secretly likes it, and you can't be happier right now. You're experiencing a power trip; adrenaline rushing through you to continue your teasing despite the possibility of being mute in the future. 

"And that? Right there. Just now. The way you just announce dangerous threats? And sometimes about people's demise? Now, that is attractive."  

Wednesday decided that she's had enough of your antics. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, and you trail after her out of your dormitory. 

"Do not follow me," Wednesday hushed, and you walk beside her trying to catch up as she seems to speed up her pace.  

"I'm not following you, we just happen to be walking in the same direction- Oh, hi Bianca!" You see the girl waving back at you as you both walk through the quad; Wednesday did not acknowledge Bianca's presence as usual. 

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Remember when you totally beat the shit out of Bianca in that oral test last week? That is also incredibly attractive."  

Wednesday seemed to pay no mind as you continued your horrible strings of compliments, except for the fact that she's practically running through the corridors right now, embarrassed of being caught blushing by any of her peers. 

You know that at this point, you're threading a thin line between her turning into putty at your words or her leading you to a grave site, ready to smash your head with a rock once you get there. 

Well, she's heading towards Ophelia Hall now, so it's safe to say you won't be visiting the realms of the dead today. 

"It would be wise for you to quit whatever skulduggery you're doing if you don't want me to slice your head off at fencing class-," 

You raise your hand in mock defeat at her words, and you can see Wednesday's knuckles turn white in a fist as she continued her words, "-which will start in a couple of hours. So, leave me-" 

"Oh yeah, that got me thinking of how good you look when fencing. I mean, there's a reason why I never ever spar with you during class."  

"Yes, and it is your remarkable ineptitude in the sport." 

You shoot her a look of false hurt at her words, "How dare you- Well. I mean yes, but also have you seen yourself?" You speak out of breath, your legs slowly catching up with Wednesday's pace.  

"Yes, of course. I've been staring at a mirror in the middle of my sparring," Wednesday rolls her eyes at you, "and that's why I've been on a losing-" at this, you can see Wednesday practically seethe in anger as she chokes the word out, "-streak against Bianca Barclay."  

"No, silly, it's because I would be in complete awe," you decided not to comment further on the sore issue, opting to clear out the tension with—yes you guessed it—more compliments.  

"I mean, the all-black outfit? Your menacing strikes and your calculated steps, not to mention your disheveled hair and the concentrated look on your face?" You clasp your hand in front of your chest, eyes looking up dreamily at the memory, while the girl beside you scoffed in irritation. 

You're now at Ophelia Hall, and Wednesday continues her brisk walk toward her shared dorm room. You don't have much time left if you want to break her composed demeanor. 

"And yes, if I sparred with you, the exact situation you mentioned earlier would've happened. My head sliced off the very first second into the spar." 

"And I'd assume you wouldn't want that. So don't make me do it." 

"Quite the contrary, I wouldn't mind. I bet dying by such skillful hands would be an amazing experience." 

You can see the door now. Wednesday knows this as well. If she gets inside and locks you out, maybe you'll shut up and spare her from the torture that makes her gut feel like it's ripping her apart from the inside. 

"What do you think of adding my head as a mount on your room's wall? I'm sure Thing would appreciate the addition of another dismembered body part in the room." 

If Wednesday wasn't agitated before, she definitely is now. As she opens the door to her dorm room and turns her body to you, you can see that not only are her cheeks of blossoming color, the tips of her nose and ears are as well! It's as if this is the first time blood has rushed to her face, and you'd argue that she looks dangerously magnificent like this; face sneering but eyes unable to maintain eye contact with you. 

She spared you only a short pointed glare, before closing the door to your face. You can hear her voice ring moments later, "Stop pestering me on my writing time or I will take you up on that offer. If you decide to omit my warning, make sure you say something adequate, as I will personally make sure it will be written on your gravestone as your last words."  

Her threats have never felt so empty, not with her obviously shaky voice—not when you know she's staring at her typing paper blankly right now, unable to type a single word as you can't hear any clacking sound of the machine's keys. 

The gears in your mind turn at an insane speed, and with the bravado only you possess, you belt your next words for the whole dormitory to hear,  

"I AM CRAZY FOR YOU, WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!" 

There was only silence. Then, you hear the rapid clickety-clack of your girlfriend's shoes, and you jump backward when Wednesday yanked the door open. 

This is it, you thought.  

You had been too cocky, thinking that you could get away with harassing the raven-haired girl—if compliments can be considered harassment, that is—and now you're going to pay the price. In the most gruesome way imaginable, if you know anything about your girlfriend. 

Wednesday storms at you, and before you can even try to escape, you feel her arms wrapped strongly around your figure in a death grip. She's about to tackle you to death, and you brace yourself for the upcoming impact- 

-that never comes? Her arms just stay there, her head buried against your chest, and you are at a loss for words. 

It's unfair, how easily she makes you feel flustered. You've been trying to get a reaction out of her all this time, and she barely cracks. But now as she hugs you, you practically melt into her embrace; your mischievous agenda is long forgotten. 

When you regain your senses, you take a breath— about to comment on the situation before she cuts you off with a; 

"Shut up. I hate you."  

You smirk at her words before sighing in contentment, eyes closing as you soak in the rare moment, "I love you too." 

"But I will never shut up about this- OW-" 

Wednesday left you rolling on the floor in pain after landing a punch in your guts. 

"Now, you will."

[cegantheayugipi]

That Time I got Boba Boarded by the Yashiro Commissioner (Ayato x reader)

An Ayato x reader enemies to lovers smut oneshot

Word count: 5.4k

Summary: As a prominent figure in Inazuma, Kamisato Ayato has lived through many assassination attempts. When yours fails miserably and you end up being captured, your interrogation ends far differently from the previous ones Ayato had conducted.

Warnings: MINORS PLEASE DNI AS THIS IS A SMUT!!

Tags include: gratuitous smut, sex toys, bondage/mild BDSM, voyeurism, master/servant dynamics, use of boba during sex (hehe)

You were just waking up from a really, really good nap. As a matter of fact, you felt like it might have been the best sleep of your life. You groaned as you began to stretch out your limbs, only to realize that they were somehow restricted. You opened your eyes – but all you could see were faint specks of light through the weave of a dark fabric that covered them. Twisting your body slightly, you realized you were tied to a chair, your wrists and ankles bound to the furniture by some sort of rope.

“You’re finally awake…good.”

A voice echoed through the room, and although you couldn’t tell which direction it came from, you could immediately tell who it was.

The damn Yashiro commissioner, Kamisato Ayato.

“W-where have you taken me?” You shouted, your voice hoarse from disuse while being unconscious.

“Oh, my.” He mused, and the sound of footsteps scuffling across the ground told you he was approaching where you were sitting blindfolded and tied up. “You seem to misunderstand that you’re not in the position to be asking questions here.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized where exactly you had found yourself – tied up, in an unknown location, at the mercy of the man you had been sent to kill.

~~~

Thinking back, you cursed the ones who sent you on such an absurd mission.

‘This will be easy.’

‘Look for the white robes and the blue hair.’

‘Reel him in, and go for the kill.’

You had been sent to assassinate one of the most prominent figures in Inazuma. They didn’t care how you did it – they just knew you were particularly effective amongst young men. With what little information you had been given and what was public knowledge about the Yashiro Commissioner, you went into this mission confidently…too confidently.

Most of the Commissioners, while intelligent, had little fighting prowess; you didn’t anticipate that the Yashiro Commissioner actually had the strength to back up his title. Usually the people you were tasked with sending to the devil were weak, stupid, or both. You could easily cozy up to them, flirt with them, then take their life before they could even realize what you were doing. Thus, the last thing you expected was to be outsmarted at your own game… 

~~~

“Here’s how things are going to work.” Kamisato Ayato spoke curtly, his tone sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re going to tell me who sent you, and I’ll see if I’m in a forgiving mood. If your information proves useful enough, I’ll be merciful and hand you over to the Tenryou Commission for punishment.”

A shiver went down your spine. Was the Tenryou Commission seen as merciful? You knew if you were handed over to them with the crime you were caught trying to commit, you would never see the light of day again.

“W-wait, I-”

“I’m going to ask you a question.” Ayato cuts you off, unwilling to let you contest anything. However, he paused and you heard a slurping sound…it sounded like he was drinking something through a straw. You tilted your head, confused why he would be taking a break from an interrogation to drink.

The slurping ended, and Ayato let out a sigh before finally continuing.

“Who do you work for?”

“I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, trying to answer as quickly as you could. “I just get sent the request through a third party and then I pick up the payment from a random location when I’m done but I don’t even do this a lot I just go for young men who are easy to seduce- ”

“Oh?” Ayato cut you off, and you could feel something press against the underside of your chin. He was using one hand to tilt your head upwards to face him, although all you could see through the blindfold was a shadow. “So you make a habit out of killing the men you fuck?”

“N-no, I mean…” You trailed off, realizing the Yashiro Commissioner was right. You’ve never slept with someone who you hadn’t later killed. And although you couldn’t see it, Ayato was smirking.

You heard a low rumble come from him – was he…laughing? Little did you know, your reaction to his question told him everything. Ayato was laughing at how pathetic you really were. You weren’t a sword for hire, you were a whore with a blade.

Ayato’s demeanor immediately became serious again.

“You’re going to tell me the names of everyone you work with.” He continued to question you.

“I-I don’t know any names-”

The finger on your chin transformed into a painfully tight grip as Ayato grabbed your jaw with one hand and tilted your head up until you were facing the ceiling. You tried to wrench your head away, but he was simply too strong. Your entire body was shocked as you felt something ice-cold pour over your face and down your nose, forcing you to cough and sputter as you tasted something sweet and syrupy in the back of your throat.

Ayato’s hand moved again, wrenching your mouth open to force whatever sweet drink this was down your throat. That was when you could feel soft pillowy pearls in your mouth, and you realized the Yashiro Commissioner was drinking fucking boba.

You sputtered and coughed as you choked on his drink, unable to close your mouth as you writhed beneath his iron grip. Ayato began to smile as he watched you choke on the boba pearls; Despite what he would say to anyone witnessing such an act, he appeared to be getting personal pleasure from this.

Even after he finished pouring the sweet drink all over your face, you continued to choke on the boba pearls. You tried to swallow them while simultaneously trying to get the milk tea out of your nose. Shuddering, you finally were able to breathe and speak properly.

“Fuck you, Kamisato Ayato!”

The blue-haired Yashiro Commissioner merely smirked.

“Is that a challenge?” Ayato quipped, and your eyes went wide beneath the blindfold.

Despite the situation, you somehow began to feel turned on. There was a heat that grew between your legs, and you wished your knees weren’t tied apart like this so you could at least rub your thighs together. It was strangely hot being tied up and blindfolded like this by one of Inazuma’s hottest men.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” You growled, ignoring the desire that began to build in your stomach.

“You’ve already failed once.” Ayato mused, “What makes you think you’ll ever succeed?”

You could feel a finger trail its way from your chin to down your neck and your sternum. It brushed across your chest, landing on one nipple. You let out an audible gasp as you realized nothing was between the finger and your sensitive skin.

“Where are my clothes?!” You exclaimed, alarmed yet somehow even more turned on. You felt the finger on your nipple turn into a painful pinch as Ayato rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ngh~!” Your pained whine came out far too much like a moan.

While the first hand was fixated on one breast, a second one came to land at the center of your stomach. It began to trail lower and lower, reaching your sensitive nether region, one finger running between your lips and picking up some of the slick that had started to pool between your thighs. Your cunt clenched at the realization you were wearing nothing down there either, and your drooling pussy had been on display for Ayato this whole time.

“Just as I expected.” Ayato chuckled. “You really are more like a whore for hire than an assassin. So turned on, and all I did was tie you up for questioning.”

Ayato’s wet fingers reached your mouth, and you didn’t bother to fight back. You willingly accepted his fingers as they pushed past your lips, and you swirled your tongue around them. The taste of the salty musk of your arousal mixed with traces of the sweet milky tea from the boba he had just poured into your mouth, making it feel like you were eating a dessert rather than eating your own cum.

When he finally withdrew his fingers from your mouth, you were out of breath. You panted as you tried to calm down the arousal that was making your pussy drool like nothing else.

“As much as I would like to play with you some more, I still have questions that need answering.” Ayato spoke sternly. Both hands left your body, and you had to suppress the whine of protest that threatened to escape your lips. “Although, I believe we can still have some fun while getting answers from you.”

“Huh?” You asked, confused and nervous about what he was saying. Interrogation usually meant torture. Was he really going to torture you and enjoy it?

That was when you felt something cold and smooth press against your lower lips. The arousal that had gathered there allowed it to slip into you easily, slowly parting your tender lips and entering your folds.

You let out a whine, attempting to push your hips towards whatever it was, but you seemed to be tied up in such a way that your entire body had little to no freedom to move.

As Ayato pushed the small ceramic egg into you, he watched as you writhed with pleasure. He smirked – once the egg was all the way inside of you, he pressed a button on a remote control and the egg began to vibrate loudly.

“Aaah~!” You moaned, your cunt clenching around the egg. It was wide enough to stretch you a little, but not long enough to completely fill you, leaving your entrance quivering and wanting more.

Then, you were surprised again as a blue glow began to fill the room. You could barely see it through your blindfold, so you knew something was coming, but you were still completely caught off guard as you felt something warm, wet, and slippery slide across your breasts.

“Wh-what is that?!” You whined, your voice shaking.

“It’s some technology from Fontaine. A vibrating egg that can be controlled remotely.” Ayato explained bluntly. You could feel the slimy tendrils slip around one breast, squeezing and pulling at one nipple. 

“N-no, what’s that?” You panted, beginning to feel far too turned on for your own good.

“Ah.” Ayato nodded, although you couldn’t see it. “Some people have been granted elemental visions. Mine, as you surely know, grants me the gift of Hydro.”

Ayato paused, and you could feel a second tendril tighten around your other breast.

“And as I am certain you know, the power of water is its ability to take any shape.”

You gasped as you felt a third one slide down your lower stomach, reaching your clit. It tightened around your sensitive nib, rubbing and pulling at it, forcing gasps and moans out of you. 

Knowing this was completely controlled by Ayato was almost enough to make you orgasm on the spot. The pressure was building and building, and your growing moans and quivering entrance told Ayato exactly what was happening.

The tendrils rubbing at your clit and nipples combined with the vibration deep within your pussy was far too much, sending you on a straight path over the edge of an orgasm, but Ayato didn’t want that.

Just as you thought you might finally cum, all movement stopped. The egg no longer vibrated and the Hydro tentacles fell so still you thought they must not even be there anymore. Your encroaching climax immediately faded away, your body shuddering at the loss of orgasm.

“No!” You exclaimed, struggling against your binds. “Why did you stop?”

“I want names.” Ayato spoke coldly.

“I-I told you, I don’t know anyone’s names! They keep me in the dark about that kind of stuff!”

“You’re going to give me names. Details. Descriptions.” Ayato continued. With a click, the egg came roaring back to life, the vibrations far stronger than before. The tendrils of Hydro snapped around your nipples and clit, pulling and dragging fiercely against your sensitive buds.

A scream left your lips – too fast, too fast.

Your climax returned faster than ever, building and building until-

As fast as the motions had started, they fell still once again. You let out a cry as once again, an orgasm was cruelly stolen from you.

“Please, please I’ll tell you everything!” You blubbered, straining against the binds that tied you to the chair.

“Go on.” Ayato spoke flatly.

“T-they send me a letter to my house with a request and the bounty value. Once I’m done, and word gets out that the target is dead, they send me a second one with a location where I’ll find the payment. It’s a different place each time, but I remember all of them so I can show you-”

“Not good enough.” Ayato cut you off. With a click, everything sprung to life again, just as aggressively as before.

Once again, you let out a shrill scream. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your orgasm approached even faster this time.

And once again, right at the precipice, your climax was stolen from you as everything fell still.

“No, no, no!” You cried, tears beginning to run down your face at the third orgasm stolen from you. 

You were desperate for pleasure. You were desperate to be filled, to be fucked, to be bred. This was unbearable. You wished Ayato would just fuck you. Abuse you with his dick. Use you. Even if you were just going to be discarded afterwards, you craved him so badly. 

“Tell me everything.” Ayato spoke lowly, eyeing the wetness that dripped from your blindfold.

“Please, Master Ayato I want your cock-”

A sharp strike across your face stunned you – but also turned you on. Your pussy clenched around the egg, although the device from Fontaine wasn’t moving anymore.

Ayato had slapped you, and it only turned you on even more.

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Ayato spoke coolly. “But if that’s really all you have left to say, you have to beg.”

You didn’t have any time to respond – the egg sprung back to life on full blast, the tendrils of Hydro tightening around your clit and nipples once again. You wailed, feeling your orgasm build and build once again, knowing it would all be rudely taken from you again.

Mere seconds later, everything slowed to a crawl. The egg was barely vibrating, and the Hydro tentacles massaged you delicately. You whined at the reduction in motion, but this was better than a complete loss of pleasure.

“I said beg.” Another sharp slap across your face brought you back to reality.

“M-master Ayato, I swear I’ll be good. I’ll please you so good. Just give me your cock, I want it so bad. I need it so bad.” You squirmed in your seat, blubbering, fat tears rolling down your face.

“Then prove it.”

With a sharp yank, your chair was tipped forward, until it reached an angle where your head was surely at waist-height. You didn’t know who was holding the chair – Ayato, the Hydro tentacles, or someone else – all thoughts left your body as the warm and soft tip of Ayato’s dick was pressed against your lips.

You opened your mouth, welcoming him in, and Ayato buried himself until your nose was pressed against the hair of his lower stomach. Your throat convulsed as you choked around his cock, the tip pressing painfully against the back of your throat. You began to shed tears as your throat constricted around his girth, unable to escape as Ayato dug both hands into your hair to keep your head pressed firmly at the base of his length.

Ayato savored the choking noises you were making; he loved the way your throat bulged as it took in all of him. He reached over and pulled your blindfold off, wanting to see the tears you would cry when he fucked your throat.

You blinked as the room suddenly became far too bright, your senses flooded as you glanced upwards to see a wall of toned stomach. At the top, the Yashiro Commissioner smirked down at you, his gaze almost sadistic.

Ayato finally began to move, setting a brutal pace. You wailed as your throat was abused over and over, but he didn’t seem to care at all as you choked and gagged painfully. Tears began to roll down your cheeks that you couldn’t help. Amidst his punishing thrusts, you glanced upwards again, realizing that Ayato was now grinning down at you. He was reveling in your pain. 

And why did that only turn you on even more?

Your pussy clenched around the softly buzzing egg, and you realized you might actually finally orgasm from this.

Your cries began to turn into moans, mixing with your choking and gagging that reverberated against Ayato’s cock, seeming to milk his climax from him.

You were so close, so close to orgasm when Ayato pulled himself out of your mouth. You paused, wondering why he stopped so suddenly, when hot and sticky ropes of cum sprayed over your face and chest. You blinked, some of the cum managing to land in your eyelashes, then looked down to see your chest coated in white. That was when you realized your binds weren’t normal ropes or chains… They were neatly tied red ropes that cut across your body in seductive patterns, and you realized Ayato had tied you up in shibari from the beginning.

You looked up, seeing a drop of cum fall from the blushing tip of Ayato’s cock, staring at the beautiful colors and curves of his throbbing member.

All of these thoughts distracted you from your orgasm that ebbed away, and you realized a fifth one had been stolen from you. This was beginning to drive you insane. 

“Master Ayato-” Your whines were cut short as you watched a glowing translucent tentacle slip down your stomach towards your drooling cunt. It pressed into you, exploring your sensitive walls, wrapping around and withdrawing the egg that was now completely dripping with your own wetness.

As soon as the egg was removed, Ayato’s hands worked quickly, uprighting the chair and changing the binds around your hips to slide them forwards towards the edge of the chair. 

Once this was finished, he immediately lined up his cock with your entrance and buried himself inside you with no hesitation. Your pussy took him in readily thanks to the endless teasing it had received over the past hour. Still, the sudden intrusion stretched you, balancing a fine line between pleasure and pain. You felt so filled up, so stretched, your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned.

“Ahhhhnn, so good~!” You cried, even though Ayato hadn’t started moving yet. You looked up at the Yashiro Commissioner’s face and saw a smirk begin to grow.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You sure love being treated like this.” Ayato grinned menacingly, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be fucked.

His thrusts started out even harder than before – that was when you realized he had been holding back when fucking your throat. His hips snapped against your ass, giving no thought or care that he was going to leave bruises. You wanted to arch your back, spread your legs, give him greater access to your core, but these bindings left you fixed where you sat. Yet somehow, the concept of being tied down in one place only turned you on further, your wetness making squelching noises as he pummelled into you over and over. He didn’t seem to care at all that he was shaking you so violently with each thrust that the chair was already beginning to bruise your skin where you made the most contact with it – your back, shoulders, and the plush of your ass.

Your moans came out garbled, unable to make words as Ayato fucked you silly. He didn’t seem to show any sign of stopping as you were sent careening over the edge of an orgasm, screaming as your cunt clenched around his cock. Despite how much you were squeezing him, Ayato continued, intending to fuck you through all of your orgasms until he was done with you. You had finally reached your release, but the way Ayato continued to move told you that this was nowhere near finished. 

He enjoyed being slightly sadistic – he enjoyed teasing and hurting his partner until they couldn’t distinguish between pleasure and pain anymore – but that was nothing compared to what he was experiencing with you. He had never had someone who tried to kill him reduced to the point where they were begging him to fuck them. He wanted to ruin you, to watch you become a slave to his cock.

So now he intended to fuck you until he couldn’t continue anymore.

Ayato could feel another orgasm building up just thinking about how much you had begged for this – his thrusts, however, remained just the same as before, intending to punish you with his rhythm. When Ayato knew his orgasm couldn’t be held back anymore, he pulled out of you, painting your chest and stomach with ropes of white. 

You whined at the lack of sensation, your pussy convulsing around nothing. Ayato stared down at it in amusement. The sight of your quivering and dripping cunt alone was enough to make him hard again. He lined back up at your entrance, burying himself inside of you once again.

“Please, ‘s too much…” You murmured, your eyes unfocused from being so overwhelmed by pleasure.

“You asked for this. You begged for this, remember?” Ayato spoke coldly, smirking, beginning his brutal thrusts again.

“Ngh, anh~!” Your mouth fell open, drool beginning to drip from it as your eyes rolled back in your head. “Too good, too good…”

Ayato continued his pace, reveling in the way he was making you fall apart at the seams. The noises his cock made as it pummeled into you filled the room, the squelching and slapping sounds reverberating against the walls.

“Waka, I brought the four orders of boba you reque-” The door stopped halfway open, Ayato’s blonde assistant pausing as he witnessed the scene before him.

Ayato’s interrogations were usually either boring or spectacularly violent. They never were anything like this… He stared at his boss who was balls deep in the poor naked assassin who he had caught red-handed. Ayato’s thrusts had fallen still, and you began to blink back to life, realizing that someone had walked into the room.

“Ah, thank you Thoma, you can set it over there.” Ayato raised one hand to point at the table on the other side of the room, speaking perfectly calmly despite being balls deep in the cunt of someone tied up in shibari and covered in cum.

“Yes, sir.” Thoma walked over and set the servings of boba down on the table.

You finally had the wits about you to speak up. 

“What the fuck!?” You exclaimed, staring at the male assistant who seemed to be doing his best to ignore the scene he had walked into.

“On second thought, Thoma, bring me a cup.” Ayato spoke, holding one hand out as he ordered his retainer around.

“Yes, sir.” Thoma picked up one of the boba, handing it to the Yashiro Commissioner.

You watched in both awe and disgust as Ayato ripped open the top with his teeth. He grabbed your jaw with one hand and poured the boba all over your face with the other.

You choked and sputtered as the sweet liquid bombarded you once again, but couldn’t do much to resist as Ayato wrenched your mouth open to pour it down your throat.

This time, thankfully, you knew to hold your breath. However, you weren’t prepared to feel his soft and warm lips latch onto yours. His tongue invaded your mouth, scooping up the sweet boba pearls.

“Mmmh!” Your eyes went wide as you made a noise that bordered between protest and pleasure.

Ayato withdrew from the kiss, and you looked up to see him chewing on the boba that had just been in your mouth moments prior. He stared down at you, the milky tea running down your shoulders and torso, mixing with the cum from his previous releases.

“Hm.” He smirked, beginning to move his hips again to rut into your overused pussy.

“Aahn~” you moaned, your eyes going wide from the excessive stimulation.

“Uhm,” poor Thoma spoke up as he shifted in place, “I’ll take my leave now.”

“No.” Ayato responded sharply, his thrusts remaining just as quick and hard as he gave orders to his assistant. “You can watch.”

“Y-yes sir.” Thoma responded, his face turning pink.

You glanced over at the blonde assistant, your vision bouncing from how hard Ayato was shaking you with his thrusts. You gazes met for a moment, and his blush deepened. That was when your eyes shifted downwards to see a very obvious bulge in his pants.

Your eyes lingered for a moment too long, and Ayato wouldn’t let that slide. You felt fingers close around your neck, cutting off your supply of air.

“Look at me.” Ayato commanded, and you shifted to stare at his smug face through half-lidded eyes. 

The lack of air supply somehow elevated your pleasure even more, your walls clenching tighter around his cock. Your eyes began to roll back in your head, your vision unfocusing as you tried your best to continue staring up at Ayato.

“Yes…good.” Ayato grunted as the lack of air sent stars into your vision.

It was too much…the relentless abuse of your cunt, the second pair of eyes fixed on your sex, the lack of air…you went careening over the edge of your climax as you convulsed around Ayato. He continued thrusting, prolonging your orgasm, your vision finally going dark as you passed out. 

Thoma watched you go limp, worried for a moment that Ayato had simply choked you to death. However, Ayato quickly pulled out of you, releasing his grip on your neck as he let his climax spray over you in thick spurts. Thoma watched your chest rise and fall steadily with each breath, relieved that you were actually alive.

The Yashiro Commissioner walked over calmly, picking up a small towel and wiping himself clean. He put his pants and coat back on, checking his gloves before slipping them on as well. Thoma stared at his master, watching in awe as he effortlessly made himself look as if nothing lewd had ever happened.

“Nghh…” you groaned, finally coming back to your senses. Your eyes blinked open as you realized that everything that just happened wasn’t some insane dream.

“I’d like to make you an offer.” Ayato spoke up calmly. “Come work for me, and I’ll pay you double what you receive for murder.” 

You gawked. You were sitting in front of him, naked and tied to a chair, having just been fucked out of your mind. How could Ayato be thinking about work? You simply stared at the blue-haired Commissioner.

“You can respond when you’re ready.” Ayato continued as he turned and walked towards the door. “I have a meeting to attend. Thoma, clean up our guest.”

Guest…? Weren’t you only just being interrogated hours prior?

“Yes, sir.” Thoma responded.

As Ayato reached the door, he turned around and took one last glance at you. Your skin was shiny with dried milk tea, sweat, and cum. Your pussy was swollen and gaping, strings of your cum dripping from your abused entrance onto the chair and the floor below you. Your cheeks were rosy and eyes hazy from the volumes of pleasure he had just put you through. Ayato thought you were beautiful like this. Your leaking entrance seemed like it was calling to him, begging for more punishment from his cock, but Ayato couldn’t indulge himself any longer – he couldn’t be late to this meeting.

As Ayato finally left the room, Thoma rushed towards you and began to work on the knots that bound you to the chair. You glanced down at his pants as you watched him work, noticing that he was just as hard as before.

Finally, the ropes had loosened enough and your exhausted body slumped forward onto Thoma.

“Easy, there.” Thoma murmured, carefully catching your limp body. He didn’t seem to care that his clothes were getting stained with the tea and cum that coated your skin. You felt your leg brush against his stiff member, making Thoma freeze for a second.

“Ngh… I’m sorry…” you murmured.

“N-no, it’s okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Thoma responded calmly.

“Do you… want me to help… you with it?” You spoke. Thoma leaned back to meet your gaze, his green eyes staring into yours as he immediately knew what you were talking about. You had just been overstimulated until you passed out… And you’re already offering to help get Thoma off? The blonde assistant began to understand why Ayato had made you such an incredible offer.

“L-let’s get you cleaned up first.”

~Two Days Later~

You were resting in the plush sheets of a large bed. You had been allowed to stay in a spacious yet modestly decorated bedroom in the Kamisato estate. What little furnishings the room did have, however, were exquisite. You had no idea how you went from criminal to guest, but the events that led you to this point had left you craving the Yashiro Commissioner. In the past two nights, you had woken up sweaty and out of breath from some sort of lewd dream, your underwear ruined from the dirty thoughts that ran wild in your head.

Of course, after only one night, you gave Ayato your response. You were more eager than anything to work for him. Working for him would mean being around him more, giving you more chances to feel his cock fill you, to have him fuck you until you cried, to have him choke you through your orgasm…

A soft knock on the door stirred you from your thoughts.

“It’s Thoma, may I come in?”

“Y-yes!” You responded, sitting up in bed. The door slowly opened to show the blonde wearing a black-and-white ruffled maid uniform. Your mouth dropped open, realizing this was a stark difference compared to the red jacket and pants you had last seen him in.

“I brought your uniform…” Thoma walked towards the bed, setting a large but lightweight box in front of you. A hint of pink dusted his cheeks as he noticed your reaction to what he was wearing.

You glanced down at the box, slowly lifting the lid to see a similar ruffled dress folded neatly inside.

“Is this… what all the Kamisato servants wear?” You questioned, staring down at the contents of the box. A dress, a headband, and… a garter?

“No, definitely not.” Thoma responded, waving his hands in front of him. “It’s just for Ayato’s…personal staff. You only wear this inside the estate, and change into your own clothes when you go outside for anything.”

“I…see.” You began to feel turned on merely by the thought of wearing this sort of outfit in front of Ayato.

“Oh, and one other thing.” Thoma cut in. “No underwear allowed.”

Your eyes widened as you watched Thoma lift the hem of his dress. He raised it just enough to see his upper thigh, where a small box with a tiny button was taped to the soft skin. A thin wire trailed from the box and up his inner thigh, and you immediately knew where it was going. As Thoma dropped the hem of his dress and you met his gaze, you couldn’t help the smile that began to grow on your face.

You were glad your plan to kill the Yashiro Commissioner went so wrong.

~~~

[underdark-dreams]

I would like to request something soft and sweet. Years after saving the Gate and having moved in with Rolan, Cal, and Lia, Tav is enjoying the day reading/admiring Rolan as he works, and then either a) Tav asks Rolan to marry them or b) Rolan asks Tav to marry him.

Thank you 💕💕

Rolan x fem!Tav

More

Was it wrong to feel selfish about the person you loved? Rolan and Tav finally get a night alone at the Tower to talk about what each of them wants.

Tags: Romantic Fluff, Mild Angst, Marriage Proposals | SFW

Word Count: 4,316 [Read on AO3]

“All right, all right. Three harpies at once, no weapons. How do you win?”

“Do they have the high ground?”

From the settee by the fire, Lia pointed down at her little brother as though he’d brought up a key point. “You’re on even terrain.”

“Right, this one’s easy.” Cal settled back comfortably against the rug with hands clasped behind his head. “I start yelling loud enough that I can’t hear the harpy song. Then, I charge at whichever one’s singing loudest and knock the wind out of them with my horns, and then, you know." He waved a hand around vaguely. "Rough 'em up."

“So fucking stupid—” Lia fell sideways in her seat, clutching her side with laughter.

“I keep telling you, you’re always forgetting about the horns.” Cal jabbed a finger at his forehead. “Natural advantage, Lia, you should know this by now.”

The absurd conversation was impossible to block out, but Rolan made an attempt as he bent over his desk. Behind him, he felt Tav's chest reverberating with laughter at his siblings. 

She was in one of her affectionate moods tonight. She'd drawn up a chair behind his in order to rest her cheek against his back, one wrist draped loosely over his shoulder. 

Rolan didn't mind the closeness—he never did from her. But between her warmth and his siblings' ridiculous game of what-if, he'd barely written one paragraph in the past ten minutes. He finally gave up and set aside his quill.

Tav shifted slightly on his shoulder. "How's Gale?" She asked, perhaps feeling guilty about interrupting his concentration. 

“He’s well. His new class has a few with real promise, according to Tara.”

"I can't believe Tara likes you more than me," she mumbled suddenly against his back. "I met her first."

Her petulant tone made his mouth twitch into a smile. He would’ve turned to kiss her if they were alone. Instead, Rolan only pressed his lips to the hand draped over his shoulder. "Tressyms know a good wizard when they see one, dearest."

“Makes two of us,” she replied. The soft words ghosted across the skin on his neck, raising goosebumps under his collar.

It suddenly seemed like a very good idea to tell his siblings to get lost. Rolan was saved the necessity by a stroke of good timing. Near the fireplace, there was the soft clinking of plate armor as Lia got to her feet.

“Right, I’m off—” Lia buckled her scabbard around her waist as she rose, her shortsword tip clanking against the greaves over her shins. “Can’t be late to lead my first evening patrol.”

It had never occurred to Rolan before that Lia might end up in the Flaming Fist. He had to remind himself that the company’s reputation had improved considerably in the year since Florrick had succeeded Ulder Ravengard. Corruption and bad behavior had flourished under Gortash, but Florrick had done much to clean the Fists’ ranks of the worst—at least within the city walls. 

As he looked at her now, standing tall in her emblazoned surcoat, Rolan realized that his young sister was quite grown up. She’d earned a promotion to Gauntlet faster than any of them expected, a fact she loved to remind them of—especially Rolan. Lia took care of others the way she always had, and now she could take care of herself. The thought was somehow bittersweet in Rolan’s chest.

"Me as well," Cal chimed in from the floor. Though he only stretched arms and legs out long with a massive yawn.

“Don’t rush off,” Rolan drawled, but there was affection in it.

“Highberry’s are across the street, I got a few minutes.” Cal scrubbed his face with both hands as if to wake himself. “We got new ones at the orphanage last week, twin boys. They’re good kids, but gods, do they play hard…feel like my back’s aged about ten years…”

Lia stepped over to give him a hand up with a chuckle. “Read the room, Cal. The lovers need their alone time.”

Cal glanced around at the two in question. Tav still rested her cheek on Rolan’s shoulder with an expression of dreamy happiness, while Rolan was failing to hide a scowl. Lia knew how he hated when either of them used that word.

“Ah, right—” Cal slipped to his feet, sounding eager to be off all of a sudden. “I’ll be back after sunrise. Keep the place together while I’m gone?” He added, a fine joke considering Cal was always the one breaking things.

Rolan’s only response was to wave his quill behind him in a shooing motion. Tav called a friendly goodbye to brother and sister as they made their way down the main staircase, chatting as they went.

Once their footsteps had retreated completely, her restraint evaporated. “Thank the Gods, come here—”

Rolan barely managed to save his inkwell from overturning as she twisted to launch her torso across his lap, capturing his face in both hands for an enthusiastic kiss. His near arm gripped around her middle, no doubt leaving ink stains from his fingers against her linen shirt—he found himself unable to care about anything but the sweet taste of her lips.

They each pulled away for breath at the same moment. Tav’s grip lingered, her fingers combing back through his hair gently to clasp together at his nape.  

“Hello,” she grinned. Her eyes roamed over his face like he was everything.

Rolan’s palm brushed down her back, utterly content. “Hello.”

They took each other in like that for a long moment, just enjoying the quiet closeness. Her fingers smoothed and combed the hair back from beside Rolan’s horns needlessly—a fussy gesture that nevertheless brought a hum of contentment to his chest.

Apparently satisfied that she had him put back to sorts, Tav’s hands moved to rest on Rolan’s shoulders. “Got more work to do?”

Though she phrased it as a question, Rolan sensed she already knew the answer. He let out a reluctant sigh.

“Go on,” said Tav, not waiting for his reply. Rolan’s shoulders received a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll wait for you.”

With one last soft kiss, she slid off his lap and away. Rolan said nothing, but he instantly missed the warm weight of her against him. 

Tav retrieved her current reading from the shelves behind and curled up on the now-vacant settee near the fireplace. Though his spirit rebelled, Rolan picked up his quill again to continue writing his last few replies. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could join her. 

For a while the vaulted room settled into a quiet, echoing lull. There was the crackle of magical flame in the great stone hearth; the rhythmic scratch of ink against parchment; the faint whistle of an evening breeze out on the open balcony beyond. Periodically, he heard Tav turn another page of her book.

Before long he’d reached the final sealed envelope on the day’s pile. As Rolan stretched his hand for it, he caught sight of Tav watching him over the back of her seat.

“What?”

“Just admiring,” she sighed, eyes sparkling. “You look so handsome when you’re concentrating like that.”

Rolan’s brow wrinkled playfully at her. “Am I not usually handsome?”

“Always.”

“Hmm. You just think that because you’re in love with me,” Rolan replied curtly. He turned back to his work in an attempt to hide the way she made him smile and flush like an idiot.

“Both can be true,” she called back, not denying anything. But Rolan heard the shuffle of pages as she returned to her reading.

It took him a moment to regain concentration on his work. Rolan’s eyes reread several lines of the letter before him multiple times. But this one was truly quite important—a missive from the archwizards’ council at Blackstaff Tower. They were inquiring about his arcane research, apparently intrigued for the first time in years by his own Tower’s new ownership. He dove back in to focus on answering their questions in detail.

Half an hour and five sheets of parchment later, Rolan finally surfaced back to reality. He straightened up and promptly felt a pop in his neck from his stiff writing posture. The last light of sunset had slipped from the sky, leaving inky blackness behind each vaulted window of the cathedral-like interior.

As he rolled his aching shoulders, Rolan glanced toward Tav—only to find that the seat by the fire was empty. Rolan glanced back around the room, finding the rest of it empty as well. 

Had she given up waiting and gone up to bed? The thought disappointed him, though it opened up other possibilities. 

But Tav had told him she'd wait, and she wouldn't lie. As he rose from his desk to search for her, Rolan caught a faint metallic tap from the balcony.

Her silhouette was cast in relief against the dark sky. It was a moonless night; the pale orange glow of lamplight from the streets far below was the only light lining the edge of her figure, that and what little firelight streamed out through the highly vaulted doorway. Tav leaned on her elbows, the pewter wine glass under her fingers tapping an absent little rhythm against the stone railing. It was one of her habits when deep in thought.

Rolan allowed himself a moment to admire her. Seeing her in a quiet pose like this was one of his favorite things in all the Realms. Tav had become so many things to so many people in the short year he’d known her: hero, savior, diplomat, even rather a politician. 

But tonight, for now…she was just Tav. His Tav.

Rolan felt a pang of something like guilt in his stomach. It was by no means the first time he’d had such a feeling about her. His; possessive, controlling. It reminded him of the way he used to think before she came into his life.

For a long time, Rolan had felt a need to control the people he loved. If he didn’t, who would? Control just went hand in hand with protection. Caring for others was a luxury, and if the events of his life had taught him anything up to that point, it was that fate and misfortune were always looking for ways to separate you from what you cared about most.

And Tav had slipped so easily into the deepest depths of his heart. At first begrudgingly, resentfully…Rolan hadn’t exactly seen her as a welcome addition to their lives when they’d first met long ago on the road to Baldur’s Gate. 

Right now, it was impossible to imagine anything but love for her. 

As Rolan watched a soft breeze ruffle the ends of her hair, something uncertain bloomed inside of him. Was it wrong to feel selfish like this about the person you loved? The question hung unanswered in his chest. Rolan felt its weight there tonight, like a heavy stone dragging on his heart. 

His hand absently brushed against the small leather pouch he kept tied on his belt—there was a small clink of metal against metal from inside.

“Just going to stand there?”

Tav’s voice brought him back to reality in the most pleasant way. Rolan blinked to find that his legs had carried him forward to the arched doorway of their own volition. 

Tav stood a few strides away, watching him over her shoulder with a bemused smile. The firelight streaming out from behind him softly illuminated her features. 

In the next moment, Rolan had closed the distance to tilt her face into a kiss. Her empty cup clattered forgotten to the stone tiles at their feet. Would he ever tire of the way her arms circled around his shoulders like that? 

Rolan didn’t think it was likely—he nuzzled against her cheek as their lips parted, inhaling her familiar and comforting scent.

“What’s with you tonight?” Tav laughed, the sound breathy and soft against his collar.

“What?” Rolan protested, drawing her away slightly to examine her face. “Can’t I appreciate the woman I love?”

A happy flush rose to her cheeks, unnoticeable in the dim to someone without Rolan’s precise vision. But notice he did, just as she caught the way his golden eyes traveled over her expression. Tav pressed her face back into his shoulder as her arms squeezed tighter around him. 

“I wish we had more time,” she said against the crook of his neck.

Rolan tried to quell the instinctive panic that rose in his chest at her words. Instead, he stroked a hand over her hair. “What do you mean?”

The way she paused before answering allowed Rolan’s heart just enough time to wind up to a brisk rhythm against his ribcage. Eventually, Tav leaned back to look at him. Her expression had grown quite serious.

“I know that you—” She cut herself off, then wet her lips and began again. “Rolan, this place is your life. I’m not under any misconceptions that all this—” She tipped her head and looked sideways as if to indicate the Tower itself. “—That any of it’s going away any time soon. You know that, right?”

Her face tilted toward him with utter sincerity. Rolan found that his thoughts were forming with an odd slowness, as if swimming around his brain through something gelatinous.

“And you’ve been very understanding,” he managed to tell her. The guilt from earlier returned its grip over his chest. “More than I deserve.”

She sighed as her hand rose to his cheek. “Thank you for saying that…but you wouldn’t if you knew how often I daydream about kidnapping you away all for myself.”

Before Rolan could find a response to that, Tav had stepped back out of his grip with a soft curse.

“Damn—” She swore again, then wrung her hands with a shaky, anxious laugh. “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

Rolan still didn’t understand quite what she was saying, a sensation that he found deeply uncomfortable. It made him feel like a vessel adrift. He clasped hands behind his back to anchor himself, collecting his features into a guarded expression.

“Please,” Rolan invited her, tipping his horns to her in a way that felt awkwardly formal. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” She chewed the inside of her lip as she watched him. There was a tense pause, and then she launched in abruptly. 

“I’ve been thinking our life here in your Tower. You and me—us. And,” she added, “I’ve been thinking about your work. How much it means to you…how far you’ve come in just a year.”

Tav gave him a small smile, as if casting back to those tense and awkward times when they’d first known each other. Then her face fell again. “Sometimes it just feels like there’s something missing.”

Rolan found he had to glance away from her for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Are you unhappy?” He asked her slowly.

“What? Not at all—” Tav shook her head with vehemence. “You make me so happy, Rolan, you have no idea. It’s just that I—I’m not always satisfied,” she finished weakly. 

“I see.” Rolan kept his face very still, but his pulse beat painfully in his throat. 

She was unsatisfied with the life of an archmage’s partner. It was perfectly understandable—before she’d come to live with him, Tav traveled far and wide, sometimes leaving the city for a week to visit her far-flung companions across Faerûn and the very hells themselves. 

A life spent cooped up in a tower, no matter how grand—how could he have ever thought it would be enough for her?

Rolan’s guilty conscience was deserved. He had been too selfish with her. He wanted her safe; he wanted her here. Most of all, he wanted Tav to want to be with him.

And Rolan had been so sure that she did. Perhaps he’d let the strength of his own feelings mislead him.

Rolan was painfully aware of the silence stretching on between them. Another evening breeze stirred the air, and as it rustled through their clothing, Tav’s eyes searched his face.

“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Behind his back, Rolan’s hands clenched where she couldn’t see them. Right now he was thinking of the small leather pouch that had hung from his belt for months, and the two small metal objects it contained, and the many ways he had imagined offering one of them to her. But none of those were things he should tell her now.

“Nothing,” Rolan answered aloud. “Only that I’ve been rather foolish.”

In response to that, a strange, puzzled expression passed over her face. Then her lips parted. 

“Ohhhh—” The sound rose from deep in her chest, a pained exhale. “No, Rolan, no no—”

Tav stepped to grasp his face between her hands with such speed that Rolan nearly flinched in surprise at the contact.

“I’m such an idiot,” she confessed to him. Her voice was very small all of a sudden. “I know I might not have the right to ask you, Rolan—but I don’t want less. I want more.”

Rolan’s eyes traveled back and forth between hers as if there was some hidden message he was missing there. “More?” He repeated, questioning. 

Tav nodded her head very slowly at him. “More of you. More of us.”

In the next instant it felt like the weight tangled around Rolan’s heart had snapped its line and plummeted straight down into his stomach. As he watched the firelight reflected earnestly in Tav’s eyes, realization shot up his spine like a shockwave. 

The force of his relief made his head spin. Rolan wanted to say a dozen different things to her all at once. Unfortunately, he found that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth at the moment.

Instead—in a rare moment of clarity that was all reflex and no logic—Rolan felt himself sinking to one knee in front of her.

“Why are you—” 

Tav’s eyes went wide as she followed his face down to where he landed. Her hands fell from where they’d held him to hang down limp at her sides; her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a flight of stairs.

“How can you not know by now?” 

What a terrible way to begin, he thought—yet those were the words Rolan found leaving his mouth. Trying to right his thoughts, he reached for one of her hands and took it between both his own.

“Forgive me,” Rolan blurted out. “I swear I’ve practiced this before, but—I can’t remember all the best bits just now.”

Tav shook her head at him as if punch-drunk. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she whispered hoarsely.

A nervous bark of laughter escaped him. “Have you ever known me to be burdened with an excess of humility?”

Despite the electricity now swirling between them, the corners of Tav’s mouth twitched upward. “Point taken.”

Rolan used the moment to gather himself. His tongue suddenly felt two sizes too large, and he swallowed with effort against his dry mouth.

“You’ve always done so much for me. From the first moment…every moment. You’re the reason why I have Cal and Lia, why I have everything—” Rolan’s eyes left her only for a moment to pass up over the great spire of the Tower above them. 

From his periphery, Tav opened her mouth to protest.

“Please listen,” Rolan begged her before she could speak. He wished he’d thought this through even a little; his knee was already starting to ache against the stone, but he pushed through the discomfort.

Tav’s figure froze still in response as she watched him. Only her hand shook slightly between his palms.

“You must know what you mean to me,” Rolan murmured. “You’ve given me so much more than I deserve. You’ve loved me more than anyone…better than anyone. But—” He drew her hand a bit closer to his chest. “But I’m afraid there’s one more thing I have to ask you for.”

Tav’s lips were parted in anticipation as she hung on his words. She stood so motionless it was like kneeling at the foot of a beautiful statue. Only her wide eyes moved continuously over his face, and Rolan felt he could lose himself in them completely if he gazed too long.

“Let me give you more,” he asked simply. “Let me give you everything.”

“You—you damn wizard—” 

As she broke her silence, Tav’s expression was flickering somewhere between amusement and tears. She was shaking her head at him, moisture pricking at the corners of her eyes. “If you don’t say it plain in the next—”

“Marry me.”

Though they stood under open sky, the two words seemed to echo with deafening force against his own ears. The question hung like a tangible physical thing, reverberating painfully in the narrow space between their bodies. Rolan could only grip her hand like a lifeline and wait for her to say something—anything.

Finally, Tav burst out into a laugh. 

Or was it was a sob? 

It was some strange combination of both, a choked sound of relief rising in her throat even as Rolan watched liquid suddenly spill and roll down each of her cheeks. Before he knew what was happening, Tav had also dropped to her knees in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Whatever responses Rolan had anticipated, this was one he didn’t plan for. He could only freeze and watch her cry and wait for things to make sense again.

“I don’t know,” Tav hiccoughed through the rapid tears that were streaming down her face now. Her lips trembled as her hands found his shoulders, clutching two handfuls of his robes. “I d-don’t know,” she repeated. “But I want you, Rolan.”

He had just enough hope to take that as a yes. 

Rolan folded Tav’s body into his own with near crushing force. He was now overwhelmingly grateful for their absurd position kneeling together on the cold stone of the balcony. It was unthinkable to have her anywhere but in his arms right now.

“Yes, by the way—” Tav’s voice was muffled against his shoulder, but her chest shook against him with unmistakable laughter now.

“I had plans,” Rolan answered against her hair, half to himself. “None of this is right, hells, I swear I had so many plans—”

“Hold on,” Tav replied in a trembling laugh. She pulled away gently, just enough to notch one hand under Rolan’s ear. Her face radiated joy despite the damp skin on her cheeks. “Rolan, what on earth could be wrong right now?”

Everything, he wanted to groan out. But he bit the word back. 

Instead, Rolan ducked his head to fumble with the drawstrings of the leather bag fastened to his belt. Tav’s fingers dropped from his jaw as she watched on in silent curiosity. 

He shook the open bag over his hand. With a tiny clink, two rings poured from it and out onto Rolan’s outstretched palm. Even on a moonless night, the metal seemed to glow from within with a silver-blue fire.

“Mithril,” Tav breathed in pure delight.

The observation was so unexpected, yet so thoroughly Tav, that Rolan let out a choked laugh.

She touched fingers to her lips. “How long have—when did you—?”

“The week you moved in,” Rolan answered. The way her eyes flicked up to his in pure adoration made Rolan’s heart swell in his chest, but he continued. “That’s when I gave Dammon the commission. Of course it took months to find a vein of it down in the Underdark, I nearly went mad, you have no i—”

The words were stopped up as Tav’s lips collided against his. Rolan’s fist closed over the twin metal bands just as his hand was trapped between their chests.

She kissed him so long and so hard that Rolan gasped for air a bit when she broke away.

“Do you like it?” Rolan asked, needing her answer more than his lungs needed air.

“You’re kidding me.” Tav blinked at him. “Rolan, if you don’t put that thing on my finger this fucking minute, I swear I might have to reconsider.”

He wasn’t about to chance it. Rolan slipped the band onto the finger of her outstretched hand without hesitation; it fit her perfectly. She followed suit, her hand shaking slightly with excitement as the ring slid down to his knuckle.

For a moment they just held opposite hands out beside each other in quiet admiration. Then Rolan linked his fingers with hers, pulling their palms together. 

He supposed the rings were supposed to come after the vows, not before—but the sight of them on their interlocked fingers was too perfect to be wrong.

A moment later they helped each other back to their feet, both laughing at their stiff knees and the pins-and-needles in their legs. 

Rolan felt giddy as a youth. He couldn't stop kissing her; his arms circled her firmly into him, his tail looping around and over her hips in a caress. As Rolan watched the pure happiness radiating from Tav’s face, his heart was the lightest it had ever been.

“Now what?” He asked eventually.

Tav sighed with contentment in his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to take you to bed,” Rolan answered without hesitation. Words had grown tiresome; he could think of no better way to demonstrate exactly the strength of his feelings for her right now.

In response, she separated to tug his hand with both of hers back under the doorway. 

“Then we’d better go,” she said, walking backwards so she could flash him a coy smile. “Because I want my fiancé to tell me about all those ways he didn't just propose.”