#And the bottom one is supposed to be a bouquet of eyes

[bluebellpeppers]

aaaahhhhhh look I know I missed valentines day but uuuuhh...take these old sketches of Lilly dealing with coworkers.

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[moumouton4]

Their Reactions To You Offering Them Flowers || Naruto characters x reader 3

A/n : This grew in my mind a while ago as well. I hope you'll like it

Naruto Headcanons series : 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Warnings : Contains both fluff and slow burn-ish ends ( under the cut ) but seriously there is nothing harmful, like at all. And sad-ish for Sasori but fluff at the end

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 3863

Sasuke Uchiha : He was doing the dishes. He turned around when he felt you entering the kitchen. He slightly side eyed the bouquet you were holding delicately in your hands “What is that for ?” But you extended it towards him “It’s for you” you beamed. “You can set them there” he said pointing to the kitchen table, a hint of pink appearing on his cheeks. You knew he liked it even if he struggled to express it. Though he started to feel remorse for not acknowledging your present properly and with the due happiness it deserved. so the next day he made himself go to the flower shop and bought you one as well. Yes, the seller was shocked to see the Sasuke Uchiha come to their shop, and ask for help on a flower arrangement with a cold, distant tone. When he gave them to you still with a hint of pink on his cheeks, he saw the glint in your eyes and it made everything better.

Naruto Uzumaki : Flowers ?!? NO WAY ?!? He is just so excited. Seriously you could have given him some grass he would have been genuinely happy as it’s from you. He engulfs you in a bone crushing hug “Aaaah Y/n thank you thank you thank you !!” he screams. You’re so pleased to see this glint of pure joy in his eyes. He wants to know everything about them. He is so eager to put them in a pot. You help him. Unfortunately one dies in the process. So Here you are 45 later walking in the forest looking for THE perfect flower to add to the other. Well his tummy ended up having the better of him and you guys finished your stroll in the forest at Ichiraku’s. As if this could have ended in another way.

Itachi Uchiha : He was cooking when you entered your house. He knew you were going straight to him as he felt your aura approaching him “Hello my Love. Did you enjoy your day ?” Instead of answering him you just handed him the bouquet a huge smile plastered on your face. Which was quickly reciprocated on his own face “Thank you Precious this means a lot” he said carefully cradling the flowers against his chest. He extended a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as he left a white flower there “They are almost as beautiful as you. Almost” his voice was soft as he gazed into your eyes, silently asking permission to kiss you. Which you granted directly with a nod. He set a gentle hand on your cheek and pulled you closer to him eager to taste your lips once again. He peppered your lips with soft kisses expressing the depth of his love and longing for you. The next day he too was going to surprise you, with the velvety box he brought a week ago and safely tucked in his drawer.

Sai : Bro is so goofy. When you extended the bouquet towards him his face changed to a sad expression “I’m sorry for your loss” Your eyes widened “Sai my love no one died. They’re for you” Now it was the turn of his eyes to widen “Ooooh I see… thank you ?” he said. He didn’t really know how to act, as he never was gifted in this way. Though he couldn’t help the fireworks in his heart as you handed them in his hands. He put them against his heart “I’ll cherish them. Let me just- no here. Come here and hold them. I’m going to draw you” You complied happily and let him guide you into the pose he had in mind.

Neji Hyuga : When you handed him the flowers he looked at you with a surprised look. He was the man so why are you giving him the flowers ? Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around ? Or maybe you had enough waiting for him to gift you so you did this to wake him up ? “Sunshine just take them. It’s from the bottom of my heart. I love you” He smiled softly at your words as he took the bouquet. Despite his reserved nature he took a step towards you and engulfed you in a gentle embrace, before giving a kiss to your neck “Thank you Y/n. I’ll do them honor and take good care of them” he stated, still holding you. You gave him a big smile. Even it was just flowers you were immensely happy that he wanted to cherish them like this.

Rock Lee : You don’t even have time to give them to him. The moment he understands it’s for him he knock your off your feet. He literally tackles you to the ground. Hot stream of tears strimming down how face - even some snot down his knows - as he nuzzles against your side “You don’t even know how this touches me deep in my heart ! I will cherish ad protect them with my life ! I will never forget your present ! Ever !” You laughed at his enthusiasm “Lee it’s just flowers. You don't need to get yourself into this state” you said rubbing his back hoping no one will come at the training ground and see you both on the ground, and also that he didn’t crush the flowers with his body. But when he helps you up from the ground and finally takes the flowers he sees a a petal falling from the bouquet almost in slow motion. His irises seem to shatter into fragments of glass as the petal hits the ground "NOOO ! I'm so sorry ! How could I let this happen ?!?" You began to reassure him "Don't worry, it would have happened sooner or later" And as he cried on your shoulder, you promised yourself to buy something that was less likely to break. Like weights, for example.

Gaara : He is SHOOK. What you took from your time to buy him something ? Was he worthy of your time and money like this ? He blushes furiously as the bouquet makes contact with his shaky hand “T-thank y-you Y/n. But I don’t think I deserv-” “Nonsense Peanut. It’s my pleasure. It’s only a mere proof for my love for you after all” you smiled trying to ease the tension building within him. It worked because the frown on his face gave way to a more relaxed smile. But then you took him by surprise and picked out a yellow flower from the bouquet and slided it between strands of his red hair “Perfect. You look the prettiest bride ever” He blushed even further “Y-Y/n ! I-I’m your h-husband” he whined as he stuttered against your neck. He didn’t want you to see how flustered you’ve made him. Now he had to find a way to fluster you as well. It would only be fair.

Hashirama Senju : You entered his Hokage office with the flowers in hands, opening the door with your back. He was so busy he didn’t even lift his nose from the stack of papers in front of him “Tobirama I told you earlier no I can’t change the colour of the wallflower just because you don’t like the yellow-” “I like the wallflower” you said chuckling at his lack of attention. “S-sweetie ! I didn’t know you were going to come-” his hazelnut eyes finally set on the bouquet “Oh are they for me ?” he said getting up. His eyes were glittering as he saw you nodding. “Thank you so much for the attention. Here put them there” he put a spare vase on his desk “That way I’ll always have a reminder of you” You chuckled at his words “You mean something more striking than the ring on your finger” sending him blush in the next century. “No no as strong. Of course not” He gave you a chaste kiss before walking back behind his desk. “If you’re willing to take a sit there and wait for me for… 30 min or so I’ll be able to leave early with you today. Hopefully Tobirama won’t catch us” he laughed as he took a sit and motioned for you to sit in front of him. Let’s just hope his brother isn’t going to come back to talk about this damn wallflower.

Madara Uchiha : He was at his office planning some missions for other ninjas when you quietly entered the room. He noticed right away the delicate flowers that you were holding. You set them in a vase in front of him and put your hands on his shoulders massaging gently. All this without uttering a word. You knew how tired he was and how much he just wanted to go to bed at hours like this. So you hoped they would bring him at least some joy. He took his time admiring the beautiful petal and the vivid green colour of the stalk. While letting you hands work their magic on his tired shoulders. Then in silence, he pulled you on his lap and gazed briefly into your eyes before giving a long and slow kiss to your forehead. The corners of his mouth lifting slightly as he attempted to smile despite his fatigue “Thank you my Love” he said breaking the silence “I’ll join you in bed son okay ?” you nodded “Okay” giving a kiss to his lips “I’ll stay with you there” you said setting your head on his shoulder. He felt his heart swell with love as he went back to his work. Fuelled in working better and faster by your presence.

Yamato : “I’ve finally found you. Here I got you these” you said showing him your gift. "Wow, they're incredible. What are these ? Poison ? Hidden kunais compartment ? Another kind of weapon ?" You laughed out loud, quickly putting a hand on your mouth “Yamato, Dear It’s only flowers” He makes a face. Not a face that looks like one of surprise as it should noooo. He makes his signature Yamato face with a creepy smile “I think he is happy” you thought. As you gave them to him he held them carefully almost scared to break them. You almost want to tell him that being an ANBU doesn’t make him a flower breaker, but you don’t want to make him even more anxious. He blinked slowly - like a cat - as he looked back at you “Thank you very much. I didn’t know or else I would have taken something for you as well. You’re important to me you know that” he said softly gazing into you eyes. “Don’t worry about this. Just knowing you came back safely means the world to me” Your words were his cue and finally he leaning in and kissed you deeply… the gear in his mind still working to find the perfect gift for you.

Sasori : He ✨side eyes ✨ the flowers as if they were a rotten apple “You know I don’t like flowers” he says. You don’t even know how he knows since his face stayed turned to the puppet he was fixing. “I thought it was because they were from someone else-” “From someone else or from you I don’t like flowers. That’s all” he said, as cold as ever. On your side you could sense he sounded kinda sad ? Maybe because the delicate plants were so fragile to the time and its flow. “I’m going to plant them. I’m sure they will grow taller. And every year their seed will make a new flower” you said leaving him to his work. Unbeknownst to you he stopped abruptly in his task, thinking about your words. And just like that he decided to get up and see how you were going to take care of them. How you were going to ensure their life in this world despite their short lifetime. Yeah you sparked something within him and for once in his life he was eager to wait and see how your care would save those little flowers.

Slow burn-ish ends starts here :

Iruka Umino : When his eyes set on the flowers he gets red. Almost as red as the roses you’re handing him “W-wow Y-Y/n they l-look so pretty. B-but I didn’t bring anything for you. I d-didn’t know y-you’d-” but you cut him off with a kiss on his rosy cheeks “It’s my pleasure Iruka. And I’ll bring you some as long as you like them. Just to see your wide smile, the sparkle in your beautiful eyes and the colors of your cheeks” you teased him pinching his cheek lightly. “Y-Y/nnnnnn” he whined looking as sheepish as ever “You’re teasing me” he tried to look up at you again without succeeding. finally after a deep breath he pulled you against his chest. He gave the top of your head a kiss, breathing in your scent “I want to take you out to dinner with me… i-if that’s fine with you” he mumbled. “I’d love that Iruka. We’ve both been busy lately. I think that would be really nice” He smiled widely hearing your words. Indeed it sounded really nice to spend the evening with you and maybe well have you come and sleep over…

Orochimaru : That little ✨shit✨ chuckles when you give him the bouquet. Making you almost self-conscious. You’re torturing yourself. Wondering if he likes them, or if he thinks you’re dumb for offering flowers to someone as powerful as him. His natural suave voice makes you shivers as he speaks “Ooh Pet look at you. Offering me something as fragile and vulnerable as you for me to take care of” he gets closer to you “I’m sorry to disappoint but my attention will stay solely on you my Dear. Well most of it since now I have to give them a little bit of care too” He tries to stay in character but inside it’s a whole firework going on ( 4th July for my fellow American and 14th July for my French comrades ) he wants to jump up and down with you in his arms while crying and ask the skies how they found him worthy of your time and love. But he doesn’t. Instead he gives you a long and needy kiss on the pulse point of your neck. And lets you here saying he is going to look for a vase. Letting you there longing for more.

Deidara : You didn’t even have time to give them to him that he screamed “Y/n ! Those are per-fect ! See those beautiful petals how soon they will fall. Slowly giving traits to the time passing and taking their beauty with it ! This is true art ! You’re an amazing partner ! I couldn’t dream nor create a better one ! Such beautiful flowers… quick quick I need to make something to help me remember how sumptuous they were !” He took the flowers from your hand and started running somewhere, his blond hair swaying with each jump. Suddenly you saw him run back to you. He gave you a passionate *French* kiss and with that rushed the other way. But not before screaming “Do not worry you will get rewarded later” You didn’t know which kind of reward he was meaning though with him literally anything was possible.

Kakashi Hatake : When he saw you entering your shared apartment with the flowers in hand,  he smiled under his mask “What a nice surprise. And to tell I was wondering what took you so long” He pulled down his mask and gave you a long awaited kiss after a long day of work for both of you. As he took them he took in there delicate parfum “And that smell as nice as they look. Thank you Y/n. I’ll see how I can make it up to you as well” Your heart swelled “Kakashi you don’t need too it’s my pleasure” But he took you of guard “Okay I’ll give you pleasure” “Huh ? What ?” with a swift motion the flowers were securely put in a vase and you were carried on his shoulder towards your bedroom.

Shikamaru Nara : When he saw you coming from afar he sighed before shaking his head slightly. When you handed him the flower he took them while a smirk was playing on his lips “My why are you always this troublesome ?” he said. But you knew he liked the present “This is going to be such a drag to water everyday” he took a step closer towards you “Though for you I’m sure I can make some room for that” he said twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. This time it was you who smirked “Only for that Shika ?” He chuckled at your comment before leaning in and pecking your lips chastely “Keep going and you’ll see I have plenty of room to make when it’s for you” “Well then What are you waitin-” you didn’t even finish your sentence that he swept you off your feet. Well at least now you were going to know what he was hinting at. Though a part of you knew damn well what it was going to be about.

Utakata : He saw you coming from afar. He noticed the pep in your step and followed you walking up to him from the corner of his eye “Utakata ?” you said it was clear that you were excited for some reason “Y/n ?” he said, unsure of what you were up to “I’ve brought you… this !” you said, taking the flowers from behind your back and guiding them into his hands. He looked at the bouquet which was now in his hands, then back at you. And back at the flowers and back at you “What are those for ?” he said. His usual cold tone accompanying each one of his words “They are for you Dear” “I see that but what for ?” “I think the pastel blue brings out your beautiful brown eyes, that's all” you said smiling at him. His eyes widened as he saw your face inching closer to his. Your lips looked very kissable from his point of vue all of a sudden. Maybe your training could wait only for one kiss or two after all. So he dipped in and tasted your soft lips “Mmmh still so exquisite” he thought. Yes, maybe training could wait a bit more.

Minato Namikaze : You’ve set him the surprise in a pretty vase and set it on the table waiting for him to discover it when he’ll be back from his Hokage office. He didn’t even notice them bruh or if he did he wouldn’t have though they were for them “My my does the fastest man of Konohagakure go so fast he doesn’t even see the flowers her wife bought for him ?” you joked. “Y-you’ve b-bought me f-flowers ? I don’t k-know what to say” You got up but in no time he went from the door to in front of you. You cupped his blushing cheek “Just a kiss will but even a smile will suffice” He immediately leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. As he pulled away though he took your hand in his “But if you allow me I can give you much more than just a kiss Y/n” he said. His eyes were twinkling with a mischievous glow despite his quiet tone. “Only if you’re not too tired” you responded. “I’m never tired for you. In fact…” he swept you off your feet and brought you to your room “…now I feel widely awake to do whatever you’re in for” And that’s how the next day you had troubles walking ; )

Tobirama Senju : He’s part of the side eye team as well. The bouquet receives a criminal offensive one “I’m a ninja I don’t need flowers” Despite his harsh answer you smirked. First because you knew he would react like this and second because you could sense he was glad you thought to grind him something even if he didn’t know how to actually handle the gift. So you decided to tease him further lmao. Pointing towards your chest you said “Those neither and if I recall yesterday you-“ You didn’t even finish your sentence his hand went to your mouth “Shhhhhhhhh ! Okay ! Okay fine ugh… thank you. They look pretty… I guess” you engulfed him into a hug “See it wasn’t that hard with a little help” you chuckled. He was looking at everything but you, his cheeks slightly flushed “You’re insufferable” he said, shaking his head slightly, though he couldn’t help the little smile that had appeared on his lips.

Hidan : He looks at you curiously when you extend the bouquet to him “Doll you know those aren’t part of my rituals for Jashin right ?” you giggled at his straightforwardness “Of course I know that. I bought them for you and no one else” He saw you walk toward a vase you also bought and set them on his night table. His purplish eyes followed your every move as you walked back up to him. His hands gripped your hips as he continued with a seductive tone “Mmh and what for then ?” you smiled at him “Well let’s just say that you worship Jashin and I worship…” you walked your fingers on his broad shoulder “…you” His eyes widened slightly at your words as a smirk spread on his lips “Oooh and can your worship lie in more than flowers or…” he let his words trail “All you ask I’ll do” you said breathlessly lost in his gaze as you started to feel his hands rubbing circles on the skin your shirt was showing “Okay then you see this cupboard ? Bend on it and let me do the rest. My good little worshiper” he said with a husky voice that gave you an inkling of what was to come.

Genma Shiranui : He raises an eyebrow at you, his tone teasing as always “Mmh look at that. A beautiful flower gifting me beautiful flowers. But between us you look appetizing compared to them” You blushed slightly at his suggestive comment “Genma just take them. Don’t embarrass me on the damn street. People will hear you” he chuckled darkly “Baby the whole village hears you when the night comes-” “Shhhhhhhhh !!!!!” you hissed. Making him chuckle even more. His arm circled your shoulders as he pulled you closer to him and kissed your temple “You know I like teasing you. I can’t help it. Your reactions are always delightful” he said, playing with the senbon between his teeth as he looked down at you. You playfully stuck your tongue out at him “You’re so mean” “But I know you love it” he chuckled rubbing his hand on your shoulder. And gosh know it was true.

~

~

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🧇🥓 Again my requests are open 🥚🧁

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

[twilightcitysky]

Courtship

“Crowley, come in! I was just redecorating.”

“Really? You never redecorate. Last change you made was in 1860, when you had the plumbing installed.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “After everything that happened, I started thinking things over,” he said tenderly. “We almost lost the bookshop, but here it is, good as new. We almost lost the world, and… and now that we didn’t, I want to make some changes. I think it’s time.”

Crowley frowned. “Here, have you got something in your eye? You keep blinking.”

Aziraphale stopped trying to flutter his eyelashes. “I’ve painted the back room,” he said eventually, in a more normal tone of voice. “Would you like to see?”

He headed towards the door without waiting for an answer and pushed it open. “What do you think?”

“Oh, um. Very nice. I might’ve gone with a warm gray, or maybe mother-of-pearl… but yellow’s good too.”

“I happen to like this particular shade of yellow,” Azirphale said, a trifle testily. “Very much.”

Crowley held up his hands. “Hey, it’s your bookshop. Are you ready for lunch?”

*

“What’s this?”

“They’re flowers. Roses, dahlias, and a few Peruvian lilies.”

"What do they do?"

Aziraphale, holding out the intricately beribboned, carefully wrapped and above all expensive display from the most exclusive florist in London, began to feel a bit awkward. "They… smell nice, I suppose? And they can brighten up a room."

Crowley peered over his glasses. "Sure, for a little while. But they're cut, see?" He touched the bottom of the bouquet, as if Aziraphale perhaps hadn't noticed. "They'll die in a week."

“I suppose. I thought you might–”

“Is this more redecorating? I can help with that, no problem. Listen, why don’t I get rid of these for you… and if you’re wanting something for the bookshop, we’ll get a nice rubber plant to put under the window.”

Aziraphale sighed.

*

“Oi, angel! Think you dropped something!” Crowley jogged to catch up with him and put the matte black box, which he’d left on the seat of the Bentley, back into his hands.

“Ah. Actually, you see… that was for you.” Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat. “In case you got peckish,” he added lamely.

“This fancy stuff? Men break into bedrooms at midnight to leave this kind of chocolate next to pillows. Saw it in an advert.”

Aziraphale brightened. “Would you like me to break into your bedroom?” he asked, a tad breathlessly.

Crowley laughed. “What for? Listen, why don’t you have these. You’ll appreciate ‘em more than I will.”

*

“Are you ready to go?” Crowley glanced at his watch.

“Just one more thing. I. Er. I-thought-you-could-wear-this,” Aziraphale said in a rush. “If you like.”

Crowley took the velvet box from his trembling hand.

He opened it. “It’s…”

“Yes?”

“It’s very sparkly.” Crowley held the ring up to the light.

“It’s a diamond,” Aziraphale said desperately. “A diamond ring.”

“Oh. And you’re givin’ it to me because…”

“I–” Aziraphale stopped. He searched Crowley’s face, looking for a flicker of understanding. “My dear, I would like–”

“Oh wait, let me guess. It’s for your magic act, right? Are you practicing palming again, or is this the sort of ring that squirts ink when you twist the jewel?” Crowley pulled curiously at a glittering stone the size of his thumbnail. “Happy to help if you need an assistant. Just no more bullet tricks, okay?”

Aziraphale stared at him. “Yes,” he replied dully. “My magic act. Yes. Exactly. I’m trying to make something appear.”

“Got it in one!” Crowley gave him a pleased grin. “I know you so well, angel.”

“I daresay you do.”

Aziraphale followed him out to the car. There’s nothing else for it, he thought. I’ll have to throw a cotillion ball.

[beenbaanbuun]

mean yet soft w/ wooyoung

words - don’t ask, i don’t know

genre - fluffy smut

warnings - mean!dom wooyoung, also soft!dom wooyoung, face fucking, spanking, degradation, nicknames, aftercare, hes literally jekyll and hyde

not proofread but i’ll get round to it soon :)

so wooyoung is a little shit, but he isn’t evil

like he’ll tease you until the end of the earth, but the moment you get hurt by his words he’s clung to you like a koala telling you sweet nothings

and if that’s not enough, he’ll go one step beyond sane just to apologise to you

one second you’re pouting and the next he’s buying you flowers and cooking for you as an apology

not that he doesn’t do both of those things anyway

it’s just that when he’s trying to beg for forgiveness, he always goes a little overboard

you won’t be able to move without bumping into a bouquet of flowers, and you’ll actually have to beg for him to stop cooking for you because you’re way too full to eat most of it…

but something in my sick and twisted little brain i like to think that this applies to the bedroom too…

like imagine you’ve just pissed him off a little too much

bratted too close to the sun, if you will

the glare he gives you honestly makes you want to kneel down and beg but he won’t let you

not yet, anyway

because whilst you’ll definitely be knelt down in a second, letting him pound his pretty cock into your slack jaw, he has to make sure it doesn’t hurt you first

“kneel on the pillow for me, princess… that’s it, baby! we don’t want your pretty skin getting bruised, do we?”

and sure enough, there’s a plush pink pillow waiting for you

it’s almost heartwarming, until the second your knees hit the fabric and suddenly there’s a dick in your mouth pumping in and out like there’s no tomorrow

and then when he spanks you, you can guarantee he goes fucking hard

i’m talking trouble sitting down hard

red hand prints for days hard

tears streaming down your cheeks as he makes you count for him hard

and it hurts like fucking HELL and he knows that

but that doesn’t stopping from delivering soft kisses to the sweltering hot skin in between each spank

soothing strokes along your ass to make sure you know he’s not really mad

oh, and don’t get me started on the words he tells you…

he will call you every single name under the sun

bitch, whore, slut, dumb, so on and so forth

“fucking slut,” he spits, punctuating it with an extra hard thrust, “panting for me like a bitch in heat.”

and you are, you can’tdeny that

face pressing into the pillow, tongue sitting pretty on your bottom lip as you gulp in as much air as possible in between thrusts

his beautiful cruel words swim around your dizzy head, but before they even have chance to sink in, he’s letting you know just how much he loves you

“you’re a whore, aren’t you,” he grins as he nuzzles your cheek, “but that just makes me love you all the more. my whore, baby… all mine.”

and then the aftercare?

if you lift a finger, he’s going to place a curse on your entire bloodline because how dare you do his job?

he is supposed to be taking care of you, not you…

“hey, idiot,” he stomps over to the bed where he left you whilst he got water, “i thought i told you to sit still and let me do the work! why are you taking the sheets off?”

“felt dirty, youngie…”

he just rolls his eyes

“let me carry you to the bathroom, okay? i’ll sort the sheets…”

and youd better let him carry you to the toilet and sit you down (because you should be peeing after sex… no uti’s in this household)

if you don’t let him, he’s going to do it anyway

only rather than lifting you up gently, bridal style, you’ll be hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

and you can complain as much as you want, but you can’t out-do the doer

you complain about him taking care of you, let him bring out a 40 slide power point about everything you do that annoys him that he’s been saving for this exact moment in time

like seriously, just let him do his job

it makes him feel better about being a dick

[ryuryuryuyurboat]

8 letters, 3 words!

synopsis: confessions are tricky.

genre: fluff

characters: lyney x gn! reader

warnings: modern (college) au, reader is referred to in 2nd person, navia + lynette cameo

a/n: hehe hi @ariicandy! i'm your secret admirer for @ecrin-de-litterature's kiss don't tell event :> hope you like this gift hehe happy valentine's!! likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

©2024 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

masterlist

“oh my, y/n, you really do have expensive taste.” navia grins at you from across the table. “did you win the lottery, or something?”

you huff. “no, i found them on my table.” the second you open the lid of the (previously) beautifully decorated tin box, the sweet fragrance of macarons wafts into your nostrils— you almost miss the way your friend’s jaw drops as she openly gapes at the treats. 

“what?” 

“you… er, well, do you know what those are?” navia gleefully looks between you and the macarons.

there’s a soft clink as lynette sets down her teacup. “5 bucks they have no clue,” she bets, earning a soft “tsk” from you and a smug navia crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair. 

“of course i do! they’re macarons! hey–” you protest, as navia dissolves into giggles and lynette sighs, “hey– listen, listen, i may have flunked midterms but that doesn’t mean i—stop laughing!—that doesn’t mean i don’t know a sweet treat when i see one, okay!”

lynette leans forward, an odd glint in her eyes. “these aren’t your ordinary macarons, you know. there’s only one bakery that sells them like this, and people queue for hours just so they can get their hands on one of these– they only sell eleven boxes each day, mind you. it’s like you’re saying your louis vuitton is just some random bag you picked off the streets. a single box can quite literally cost you the skin of your a–”

you cut her off. “i think we know what you mean, just take some if you wanna try ‘em, okay?” 

“still, who’d gift you something so expensive?” navia muses, chewing on the lemon macaron she’d nicked while you weren’t looking. 

“probably the same mystery guy who gave me that plushie bouquet the other day, and then those chocolates from yesterday, and also probably that box of pâte de fruits…” you hum in thought, utterly oblivious to your friends’ astounded gazes.

“...y/n, i think you might have a secret admirer.” 

“wha– hey, wait! what was with that tone when you said ‘who’d give me something that pricey’? you tryna say i’m not worth those?!?”

laughter echoes across the empty cafeteria as you lunge at navia and screech something about wanting her to return the macaron. none of you notice the pair of periwinkle eyes fixed on your figure from afar.

—

“ooooh, does someone have a secret admirer~?” navia peeks over your shoulder at the white envelope lying innocently on your desk. “y’know,” she continues, unfazed by your side-eye, “if it’s the same guy that got you those macarons, maybe you should consider getting–”

“shut up,” you grumble, feeling your ears heat up, “i don’t even know who gave me all these.” 

“do people not normally sign their names somewhere?”

“just the initials.” you unfold the enclosed paper, pointing to the very bottom, where the letters LS were printed. “who’s that supposed to be? lonely spirit?”

you don’t see a certain someone’s eyes dim when you don’t bother reading the letter and shove the envelope into your bag.

—

13 february. 7 days since you started receiving letters. 7 days since you got your first plushie bouquet (how the sender knew your favourite blooms and even your favourite character was a mystery you had yet to solve). and 1 day before valentine’s. 

the letter you got today was way simpler than the flowery words that filled the pages from before:

3 boxes, 8 letters. think you’ll be able to figure it out, ma chérie? that’s the key to your last gift.

(hint: the way each letter starts is important. good luck♡)

“the way each letter starts?” lynette shrugs, “no idea. probably something like the first letter of the first word.”

“lynette,” you begin, “you’re a genius!”

one problem, though. you only received 5 letters. oh, well, didn’t hurt to try, right?

“let’s see…” you lay out the letters on the table, trying hard to ignore the contents that made you blush so furiously in the safety of your bedroom. “u, l, v, o, i, e…” you mutter, before navia gives you a light shove.

“no way it’s taking you so long, isn’t it already so obvious?”

“???”

“rearrange the letters—where’s my pen— and what do you get?”

you stare mutely at the letters. “...i love u.” you read, before you’re hit with a realisation.

“wait– boxes are containers, and then words are like containers for letters– and then, and then… and then i love you makes up eight letters in three letters! i’m a genius!”

“if you’re such a genius, you should’ve noticed a certain someone staring at you.” lynette nods at a point behind you, “go get your man, y/n. i don’t wanna hear complaints about being single for valentine’s.”

you turn– and there stood lyney snezhevich, in all his glory, a bouquet in his hand. he offers you an apprehensive smile as he extends his arms for you to accept the flowers—your final gift— and averts his eyes. 

“seems you’ve managed to crack the code, ma chérie. now, then, if you hadn’t known from the letters… will you be my valentine?”

taglist: @yinyinggie @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain @thexianzhoujade @dailypenpen (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

[thepixelelf]

Oh Baby, You Part 42 - Recovery Mission?

prev « masterlist » next

Wonwoo turns the small bundle of forget-me-nots in his hands. He knows flowers alone aren’t enough, but he grazes his fingers over the bit of white ribbon holding the posy together. You’d always loved the little bits and bobs you could collect over time. There was once a red ribbon wrapped around a gift he bought you back before he left for Mongolia — courtesy of the store’s gift wrapping station — which you saved and tied in a cute little bow on one of the drawer handles in your old apartment. While he was gone, he would look forward to seeing it in the background of video calls. Like it was a part of him that he left behind to stay with you.

Shit. He feels like an idiot.

In the elevator mirror, he meets Chan’s eyes. “Are you sure about this?” 

He shrugs. “Are you?”

Looking back down at the flowers, Wonwoo lets out a long breath. “What if they don’t want to hear it?”

“Well…” Chan gives his head a pensive tilt. “Don’t you think you owe it to them to try? Even if they turn you away?”

“You’re…” Wonwoo doesn’t get to finish. The elevator door opens, and even though his apartment — and yours, by association — is around a corner and hidden from sight, he hears your voice. And someone else’s.

Stepping out of the elevator, Wonwoo stops just before rounding the corner and peeks for a half second around it. A vaguely familiar man is standing right in front of you, holding a bouquet of white flowers, while you linger in your doorway. Though Wonwoo quickly ducks back behind the corner, he knows you well enough to tell that you’re tired, and you don’t really want to be talking to that person.

Chan follows a little too quickly. “What’s—”

Arm shooting out, Wonwoo stops Chan from revealing himself in the hallway. “Who is that guy?” he whispers. 

Chan peeks around the corner. “Oh, that’s Choi Seungcheol.”

“Mingyu’s rival?” The corners of Wonwoo’s lips quirk downward. “Why would he be…?”

“Remember when I made you take me to the hospital? They went on a date that day.”

“A date?” Something bitter settles at the bottom of Wonwoo’s stomach. He risks another look around the wall. Damn. The guy does look good in a suit. 

Chan shrugs. “MT didn’t really seem into it. My money is on him trying to dig into the whole baby scandal. He’s totally got that ambitious business villain from the dramas vibe.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“I think he’s trying to get information on them so he can dethrone Kim Mingyu.”

Wonwoo frowns. “By dating them?”

Shrugging again, Chan leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “It’s just a guess. I’m trying to not snoop anymore.” 

Wonwoo gestures a finger between them. “What do you call this, then?”

“Recovery mission?”

“You—”

“Look,” your voice comes from down the hall, slightly louder. “Seungcheol. I already told you. I know what you’re after.”

“I won’t try anything from now on.”

“Sure, sure. And I’m just supposed to think you want me because— what? My dashing just-made-a-microwave-meal-for-dinner-after-not-sleeping-for-twenty-two-hours looks? My abandoned bachelor’s degree? My complete disinterest in diffidence?”

“Dividends.”

“Exactly, Seungcheol. You’d never convince anyone you could want anything from me except for information on my child. Which will get you nowhere, by the way.”

“I’d like a chance to try again. To show my better side.”

“And I should give you that chance because…?”

Wonwoo peeks just in time to see Choi Seungcheol throw you a disarming smile and hold his bouquet out.

“Tulips?”

His feet start moving before he realizes it, and Wonwoo steps between you and Choi without a second thought. “They were saying no,” he asserts.

“What the...” you whisper your surprise.

Choi just furrows his brow. “Who are you?”

“No one,” you answer for him, slightly brushing him aside even as he glares down Choi. “Listen, I think you should—”

“The name’s Wonwoo.” And because he’s stupid, he goes on to say, “I’m Orion’s father.”

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oby tagging 1, 50/50: @shiningstar-byulxx @shuabby-woowoo @90s-belladonna @xavi-in-kpopland @kachren @xmessaroundx @chwevernonlover @kwanisms @dalamjisung @1ntaktak @crazywittysassy @butterfliesinthenightsky @ddaengpotate @dorrysstuff @ckline35 @vanishingboots @potatofrieswithketchup @minhwa @oncecaratorbit @sugacookees @royal9 @doodlelibrary @myjaeyunn @yksthings @jundundun @amosmortese @jaeskz @seungmintree @woozarts @my-chaos-in-stars @yoonychoik @ksywoo @kellesvt @candidupped @sharkipoonis @wooahaeproductions @capsiclesworld @hellodefthings @sunshineshouchan @calumsfringe @caratinluv @pinkysinnerbaby @winterwallacehenderson @jvhoons @woo8hao @sxftiell @wondering-out-loud

[rinzsu]

FLOWERS, MY LOVE .ᐟ

cw: itoshi rin, fluff, gender neutral, established relationship, wc 300+, this is by far my fav piece of mine your boyfriend has other methods to express his love for you

„rin.. what are you doing?“

silence, followed by the slight crunching sounds the paper made as he folded it. that’s right.

itoshi rin, sat on the floor of your living room, surrounded by loads upon loads of pastel pink paper, folding it into dozens of little flowers.

you took a step closer, picking up a blossom that was laying astray before examining it closely. it must’ve been one of his first tries.

it’s petals were uneven, with one or two of them bent downwards. overall it looked like it was on the brink of falling apart, disfigured by the way he must’ve haphazardly thrown it on the wooden floor in his frustration of messing it up.

you smiled. he must’ve spend hours on making these, you noted while looking at the bunch to his left, little pastel flowers piling upon another.

you took another step towards him, stopping beside him to examine the flower he was currently crafting.

it looked downright perfect, petals forming a little crown around a little silver gem in the middle of the blossom matching perfectly with the soft pastel pink of the paper.

“are these for me?”

your question seemed to have startled him, the little jump he made upon noticing your presence beside him gave him away.

he turned to look at you, cherry red tinting his cheeks as his eyes washed over with confusion and guilt.

“you’re home early. you weren’t supposed to see them before they’re done.”

you giggled at him. he looked at you embarrassed before turning back to his task at hand. stubborn as ever.

you watched as he turned the flower in his hand, it’s downside facing upwards as he took ahold of the liquid glue, filling it into the small hole on the bottom before carefully closing it with a soft green pipe cleaner.

he gently collected the other flowers beside him, adding the his newest creation into the bunch before tying it tightly with a cream colored ribbon.

your boyfriend took one last look at his masterpiece, handing it to you together with a small note after giving an approving nod and a satisfied hum.

you gratefully accepted the bouquet, hugging it close to your chest while reading the little note.

with love, your rin

you smiled. these last few days rin has been feeling guilty every time you said i love you.

you understood tho, knowing full well that some people have difficulties expressing their feelings verbally, especially this early into your relationship.

you turned to look at him again, anticipation and nervousness swimming in those teal orbs of his.

“thank you rinnie.”

i understand. i love you too.

© rinsque 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.

note. this is a repost from my old blog. while i tried not to repost too many of my old works,, i just can’t live without this one for it is one of my favorite pieces

[feyhunter78]

 Cats Out of The Bag

Art cred: Skyleriearts on Twitter!

Description: Miguel has no idea what he's walking into. Previous part

@jshookthighs couldn't find any tissues, will this do?

Miguel’s excited, he loves your post class hangouts, loves being in your apartment surrounded by everything you. It’s comforting in a way he doesn’t even know how to describe.

Your favorite flowers in hand, he shoots you a text that he’s at your door, then knocks, a smile already tugging at the corners of his lips as he imagines the sight that will appear before him. He hopes you’ve had time to relax, change into more comfortable clothes, decompress from the day, all soft smiles, and soft fabrics as you curl into him, some reality TV show you like playing in the background.

You open the door, and he finds himself greeted by mascara stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes.

He nearly drops the bouquet in his rush to usher you inside and pull you to his chest. What happened? Were you hurt, did someone say something to you, did you do badly on an assignment?

“Y/N, come on, talk to me, tell me what happened, let me help you.” He soothes, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, searching your face for answers.

You push away his hands and bury your face in your own. The rejection stings, but he brushes it aside and gently grasps your wrists, not to pull your hands away but to ground himself, and hopefully you.

“Please, mi dulce, you know I’ll do anything I can to make it better.” He tries, his voice low and comforting, even though his chest aches at the sight of you so miserable.

“I know Miguel. I know about Ava, and the whole thing with Xina? I’m not stupid, I know you and Xina obviously think I am, but I’m not.” You snap, pushing away from him and handing him your phone, a video looping on it.

You draw your knees up to your chest as he watches the video, horror dawning on him as he realizes just what it is.

Miguel’s eyes widen, he drops your phone on the couch as if it burned him. “Y/N, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t—she—”

No one was ever supposed to see that, she swore she deleted it. You weren’t supposed to know, no one was, he never wants to think about that night again.

“She’s better I know, she gets you, she’s your first love, blah, blah, blah.” You say, voice taut with emotion. “And Xina, I get it, she’s so smart, she’s able to keep up with you.”

He shakes his head, and his whole body is trembling, he reaches for you, but stops himself halfway, the video still playing on your phone, silent and looping on the cushions between you. “No, no she’s not, y/n, this—that video, that was before you and I even met, I thought she deleted it. She swore to me, she deleted it.”

“That’s your fucking bed, Miguel, I know what it looks like.” You laugh humorlessly, and it cuts him like a knife.

“I-It’s not what it looks like.” He stutters out, reaching to flip your phone over, unable to stomach looking at it anymore.

“How? How is it not what it looks like?” You ask, angry tears in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling.

He hangs his head, running a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. “It was before we met, Ava had just transferred in, she saw me out on campus, we started talking she asked me to get a drink with her, it all just got worse from there. It was a mistake; and I didn’t even know she was recording.”

“Okay…” You say quietly, sobs dying down into sniffles.

“She promised me she deleted the video; I made her swear she would when I woke up that next morning. It never happened again, I swear.” Miguel braves the space between you two and takes one of your hands in his.

It wasn’t necessarily a crime what happened to him, he wanted someone, something, and Ava was familiar, was throwing herself at him, and he accepted even if his sober mind cursed him for his drunken horniness.

“Okay, I’ll believe you. This time. ” You add as an afterthought.

Miguel presses your hand to his lips, brushing each knuckle with a chaste kiss. “It was only and will only be that one time.”

“I can believe that, but I can’t pretend that you didn’t laugh at me.”

Another cut, the knife digging deep into his chest. “What, when?”

“With Xina, when I said I agreed with you and apparently that was the wrong thing to say.”

He should’ve known. He could tell you had been out of your element, all quiet and clinging to him, but he didn’t mean to hurt you, he had told a joke, one you must have missed.

“Y/N, mi amor, it was a joke, I made a joke, you must have just missed it, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I thought you were in on it.” He presses your hand to his heart, silently pleading with you to believe him.

You freeze, then your fingers curl, gripping his shirt. “Did you just call me your love?”

Miguel blanks, frantically searching for an explanation, something to salvage whatever remained of your relationship.

“Miguel, do you love me?” You’re moving closer to him, slowly, carefully, your eyes locked on his.

He swallows hard. “Yes, and I—I know it’s only been a few months, but I also know what I feel.”

You’re halfway in his lap, still radiant even after crying. “Say it again.”

“Mi amor.” He says, letting the words slip off his lips with as much passion and honesty as he can muster. “Mi amor, mi amor, mi amor, mi amor, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

He returns the embrace, crushing you to his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m going to need you to get a new bed, though.” You mumble, the vibrations of your voice rumbling against his chest.

“Anything, I’ll get anything you want.” He promises, fanning his fingers out on your back, wanting to take up as much space as possible, wanting to feel your solid form against his, feel the warmth of your skin through your thin tank top.

“And I don’t want you near Ava ever again.”

He chuckles, “I won’t fight you on that.”

“And maybe you get a tattoo of my name across your forehead.”

“I will fight you on that one.”

He can feel your laughter before he sees your brilliant smile as you lean back, eyes still a little red and puffy but lit up with mirth. “Aw really? I think it would look so good.”

He laughs again and shakes his head. “You’re funny.”

“I am, thank you.” You say, thoroughly satisfied, as you slide off his lap and hold out a hand to him. “Now are you coming?”

Miguel tilts his head. “Where?”

“We have to find you a new bed.” You say simply, smiling at him, the very essence of the sun personified.

If you keep smiling like that, he’ll follow you anywhere.

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425, @amberpanda99, @marshhbs, @queerponcho

[barbiewritesstuff]

Secret Girlfriend

-- Just a cute little thing about how the team finds out that Hangman has a girlfriend. It started out as a bullet point headcanon list but I decided to make them little blurbs instead.

Taglist:@mavswife @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1999 --

Coyote finds out when he finds her asleep on his best friend. Her head gently rising as he breathes, his hand tracing her facial features. Jake’s listening to music on his headphones, and he doesn’t know anyone’s watching. 

Javi feels a little funny, like he’s not supposed to be seeing this and he needs to leave but he can’t deny it’s really sweet to see Jake like that, especially when Hangman coughs and she stirs and he spends the next minute coaxing her back to sleep. 

From the darkness he can even see Jake’s smile when his girl nuzzles her face in his sweater as she dozes off. 

Bob figures it out when he accidentally steps into the wrong hangar. He’s not fully awake yet and he ran out of the house too late to get some coffee in his system. His eyes are still a little blurry from the night and his brain is groggy but he swears he can see a picture on Jake’s dashboard. He knows he’s not supposed to look, especially since it’s not a crime for him to have a picture, it’s just out of character.

 Bob climbs up the ladder and sneaks a peak. He’s half expecting a picture of Jake himself to stare back but it’s a girl in a cheerleading uniform kissing a quarterback. It takes a second for his eyes to spot the name on the back of the footballer’s uniform. Seresin. They look young but Bob figures Jake wouldn’t be carrying it around if they weren’t still dating. 

He leaves when he hears footsteps in the corridor, careful to place the photograph back where he found it.

Fanboy meets her during family day. She’s about his height, his age and she’s gorgeous. 

“Can I help you?” He asks. Maybe he can shoot his shot at a date, it’s been a while and he’s out of practice but hey, he can always try.

“I’m looking for my boyfriend” Her voice is nice, soft, shy but it doesn’t dampen the disappointment.

“What’s his name?”

“Jake Seresin?”

Oh. At first he thinks the poor girl missed the fact that Hangman’s not the girlfriend type, but then her phone rings and he can hear Jake’s voice through the receiver.  Fanboy makes his exit before Hangman arrives. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see him, but he figures that if Jake goes through such lengths to keep his relationship private, he probably doesn’t want Fanboy sticking around. 

Harvard, Yale and Halo see him waiting inside of a coffee shop. He’s on his phone and they debate going in to say hi, but before they finish that thought a woman sits down in front of him with a coffee and Hangman smiles so genuinely and so happily that there’s really no mistaking who she is to him. 

She takes a sip, some of her hair dips into the foam and sticks to her lip. Jake leans forward and brushes it aside, he’s so distracted he knocks his coffee over and they scramble to move everything away from the spreading liquid, then, they look at each other and laugh.

Omaha finds out because he knows her. 

His girlfriend has invited a few people over for dinner and they’re bringing partners. She walks in first, a bouquet of bright pink roses and a bottle of wine in her hand for the hosts and he follows suit. It takes a second for Jake to notice Neil just sitting there on the couch, staring at him with eyes as wide as plates, but when he does, he shoots him a look saying “We will never speak of this again”. 

Omaha doesn’t. He sees Jake relax around his girl. He sees him being nice, funny and caring and Neil figures she’s good for him, so why ruin it by telling.

Rooster finds out when he pulls up to Jake’s house one day after training to bring back the jacket he forgot. He rings the doorbell and a woman answers. She’s wearing a shirt too big to belong to her and some bike shorts barely sticking out of the bottom. 

“Hi” She says, clearly confused. Rooster lets out a nervous cough

“I need to return something to Jake”

“Why don’t you come in?”

She turns around and leads him up the stairs to a living room and a kitchen. There’s pictures on the walls, one of those scratch-off maps of the world. There are pizza boxes on the kitchen table and Rooster recognises Jake’s usual order. 

Hangman saunters in a few minutes later with a can of something and looks at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

Rooster just hands him the jacket and leaves. 

Phoenix finds out last, when she and the team step out of the carrier after a mission. They’re just chatting when suddenly a dog beelines for the group. A woman runs after the pet, trying to catch it before it jumps and Hangman falls to the floor with a loud “THUD”. The dog circles him a few times, licking every inch of his person. He curls up on the floor, giggling.

“I’m so sorry! I swear I was holding her, the lead snapped and --” She grabs the dog by the collar and moves her away Jake. He stands up and smiles. 

Then, suddenly remembering where he is when his girl's eyes glance away from him and towards the team, Jake jumps back into reality.

“Err -- this is my girlfriend. Honey this is the team”

“Hi” The woman waves

Everybody but Nat looks at one another and simultaneously decides to act surprised, largely to soften the blow for Phoenix, as she usually prides herself on her detective skills. The team’s not so sure she could take the hit.

Phoenix is almost mad. She would like to be mad, but as she looks at Hangman she recognises the way her dad looks at her mom even after thirty years of marriage and three kids. 

She sees the look she has judged relationships by: “if he doesn’t look at me like that, then I’m wasting my time”. Phoenix can recognise pure, unadulterated True Love when she sees it. 

And she understands him then, because if she was to find her own True Love, she might not want to share them either.

[tempted-byhyuka]

forlorn

adjective: unlikely to succeed or be fulfilled; hopeless.

you believed riki when he promised you that he would never put anything, or anyone, above you. you believed you would see the day that he would bend on one knee in front of you, the day he would stand in front of you and speak his vows. you cherished every brush of his fingers as they tucked hair behind your ear, or swiped stray ice cream off your lip. you felt warm under his soft gaze, his pupils so dilated as he looked at you that his eyes were almost black.

every kiss, every embrace, every time you held him until you both fell asleep, you swear you hadn't ever experienced such love before. riki made you feel like you were worth something, he was your hype man at every turn and your number one supporter. without fail, he gave you hope every day. it was a love you never wanted to tarnish or lose... and life isn't fair.

you should have known, riki being a world known idol with so many schedules meant that as he got more and more popular, the less time he had to spend with you. it started off with texts and phone calls both during the day and night. it was photos of the set that he made you promise to keep secret, and being the first to know his new hair color that kept the spark alive, and the muffled, whispered nightly phone calls that always resulted in one of his members yelling at him to go to bed. and of course, he would get one day every week or so to spend some time with you, sharing well deserved one on one time together.

it was about a year later when you realized that something was changing... you remember, riki had just dyed his hair black, and he had to have been 2 inches taller since the last time you'd seen him. your head was buried in his chest when you hugged him... you hugged him, yet... he lazily draped an arm around your back and patted it like you were an old friend. he wasn't smiling, he looked blank faced... and you knew how exhausted he had been because of his insane schedule, so you brushed it off, maybe today was just a bad day to have a date...

and then the texts stopped flat out, the calls no longer came in, nor were they answered. you more often got updates on your lover from his fan pages rather than himself. it was more than disheartening to witness your supposed soulmate slowly begin ghosting you. but maybe you had pushed him too far...? maybe you had to lay off for a little bit.. he's clearly stressed.

your birthday passed and all you got was a 'happy birthday' text from riki, who when you promptly responded to hoping for conversation, left you on read. his birthday rolled around and you gave him a call, only for him to hang up after 3 minutes of mostly silence on his end. the call left you in tears... was this it? this couldn't be how it ends...

the last proper date you two went on those years ago, when he placed that daisy in your hair with a grin, "i'll bring you daisies every anniversary, and i'll buy you the biggest bouquet of them i can find!" he says before he wraps you up in a bear hug. all you can do is giggle into his shoulder, your head booked perfectly in his neck.

and the last excuse of a date you went on... all you could really see was his side profile, the bottom half of his face.. he didn't even look at you, and even if he had, his bangs covered his eyes. he barely had a grip on your hand and told you to lay off the affection. he didn't want a scandal...

even if you didn't want to admit it yourself, this relationship had been stretched beyond its limit months ago. you were tired, tired of sobbing because of him, tired of recanting his empty promises in your head over and over until they burned into your brain. he couldn't even be bothered to text you at least once a week, it was once a month if you were lucky, he didn't ever call you, and you hadn't had a date in well over a year.

as you sit on your bed, your hands tremble as you stare down at his contact card, that 'call' button dauntingly staring back at you. would he even answer...? what would you even say...? swallowing, you gather your courage and finally, your thumb taps that godforsaken button.

it rings... it rings twice... it rings three times... four... five...

"hello...?" a gravely and deep voice picks up the phone, and it's one you barely recognize... of course it's riki, but not the riki you knew.

"hey, babe... is this a bad time..?" your voice shakes b it thankfully you don't falter your words quite yet.

riki heaved a sigh, "no, why?"

your stunned by his dismissive tone, why was he acting like you were wasting his time? "i just... wanted to see you again..."

"y/n, you know we can't just see each other." he says in a flat and irritated tone, twisting an invisible knife to your heart, "besides, i'm flying out to america soon."

"huh? for what?" you straighten, confused by this unexpected news that riki treated so casually.

"god, for tour! don't you pay attention?" riki snapped, "what do you think i do for a living y/n? do you think i can just drop everything to see you just because it's what you want?" even if he's not here with you personally, it feels no better than if he were to berate you in person.

"i.. sorry i..." your words have failed you as tears brim your eyes, "i-i missed you, so..."

"you always do.. it's all you ever talk about! come on, give me a break. it's always about what you want, but why can't you understand that i have reasons i can't be around! i had to sacrifice a lot to get where i am right now, and all of that is thrown away if anyone finds out you exist! i gave up my childhood for this, y/n! and i've only known you for 3 years!" riki unloaded on you, but he didn't ever start to scream, he just sounded so... frustrated and disappointed. and all you can think of is that all you told him was that you missed him... and it ended up here.

"so the answer is no, y/n, i'm not taking you on a date, not for a while." he stated, an audible groan escaping his lips.

with tears now silently barreling down your face, you swallowed the lump in your throat, "then how about not at all..."

there's a resounding silence from both of you as you desperately tried to stop yourself from sobbing, and finally after an excruciating 20 second silence, he speaks.

"what...?"

"don't take me on anymore dates. you dont do anything for me anyways... is that your way of telling me this is over, riki?" you can't keep your voice stable and there's an audible crack and finally, a cry, that you quickly attempt to muffle with your sleeve.

"...i guess so." is all he has to say.

"...so it's over...?"

"yes... it's over..."

no more words are spoken as you pull the phone away from your ear, and press that taunting red button, the dial tone indicting the end of the call.

it was foolish of you to think that riki could put you over his career, his honey sweet words careening through your mind as you attempt to muffle your sobs with a blanket. the pain you felt through your body as you recalled the way he didn't dare to look at you the last time you saw him, the way he refused to kiss you or even hold your hand. you couldn't even see him... you didn't see riki anymore.

you saw ni-ki.

~

first post since i've been back, i hope it lives up to expectations! 💕

[asterias-record-shop]

—𓆩[in our next life || EPILOGUE]𓆪—

𓆩[masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 1.7K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - that I know of, there is none! maybe besides cursing(?) but it's pure fluff, just let me know if you think i should add anything!

Ten years later…

This would be the second rope being tied around your wrist, to the same man. Things were different now; the games were over, Finnick built you that house on the river bank, and you had a son this time too.

Your dress was similar to the one you had before, especially because Cinna designed this one too, but this time, it was much smaller than the ballgown you had before. It was still poofy, yes, but this time it was lined with pearls taken from your first dress in strands of gold. Your hair was pulled into your preferred style, a flower crown of white camellias, pearls stranded in your hair as well.

You probably loved this more than your first outfit, a white bouquet in your hands as well. You were going to cry even more this time, you were sure of it. When someone knocks, you turn with a quick confirmation for them to come in, Katniss peeking her head inside. “Someone wants to see you…”

You giggled as your son ran in, gasping loudly. “Momma, you look so pweety!”

You laughed at his childish dialect, smoothing down the front of your dress. “Yeah? You think papa will like it?”

He nods his head vigorously. “Yeah! And if he doesn’t, he’s crazy!”

You giggled, offering your empty hand. “Wanna walk mommy down the aisle?”

He continues to nod, running over. “Momma, I’m glad you’re getting remarried. That bracelet is dirty.”

You laughed, nodding with him. “Is it baby? Well good thing papa’s getting me another one, right?”

“Yeah!”

You named your son Atlas, and for heaven's sake, he came out exactly like Finnick. Golden hair and bright sea blue eyes, a perfect smile and the freckles you loved since you were a child.

He takes your hand, leading you out the room as Katniss follows behind. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

You smiled back at her, giggling. “Thank you, Katniss.”

You walked out the back door, stepping down the steps of the large wrap around porch Finnick had built himself. The second you stepped into the meadow of different kinds of wildflowers, all of the memories came flooding back.

“Finnick, we’re not supposed to be here!”

You whisper yelled at him as he dragged you to the edge of District 4, laughing.

“So? Come on, we’re almost there!” He pulls you harder, groaning. “Y/N, don’t be a scaredy-cat!”

You groaned. “My mother will kill me.”

He snorts. “Fuck your mother.”

You gasped, slapping his bicep before he sharply tugs you forward, a gasp falling from your lips before you screamed out as you both began rolling down the hill. His hand keeps your face in his neck as he laughs, your arms wrapping around him as his other hand holds your side.

You finally get to the bottom, Finnick laughing like the funniest thing in the world just happened as you sit on his chest, looking down at your grass stained dress. The Reaping would happen in a few days, and your mother had just bought you this dress. She would kill you if you came home like this.

“Finnick, my dress is all dirty!” You whine as he sits up.

“You’re so over dramatic, darling. We can clean it when we get back, look at all the flowers,” he says, smiling as he picks one and puts it behind your ear. “I know they’re your favorite.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you picked one and tucked it behind his ear. “My favorite wildflower, Finnick. Not my favorite in general.”

He laughed, clearing his throat. “My apologies, your majesty, your favorite wildflower. Is there any way you could possibly forgive me?”

You giggle, humming. “I mean… I guess so,” you say, making him grin before you boop his nose. “But it’s gonna cost you.”

He starts to blush, but hums. “Oh yeah? What?”

You purse your lips, letting out a soft ‘hmph’ as you fix yourself on Finnick’s lap. “Well, if I’m your highness, that means I’m queen, right?”

He purses his lips in response, nodding. “Yes, it does.”

“Well then, you can be my knight. To protect me and stay with me for the rest of my life. Sounds good?”

He smiled widely, nodding. “Sounds good. I’ll be your knight, Y/N?”

You put up your hand, offering your pinky. “Promise?”

He smiled, nodding as he wrapped his pinky around yours before pushing his hand up. “Lock it.”

You do, watching as he kissed your overlapping thumbs before doing the same. “You can’t break it now, Finnick!”

He nods before smirking. “Y’know, we just shared saliva.”

Your brow ruffled. “No we didn’t.”

“You kissed after me,” he teased, chuckling. “That means you got some of my saliva in your mouth.”

You blushed madly, quickly wiping your lips. “Finnick! Don’t say that!”

He laughed as he pressed his face into your neck. “Oh come on! Knights and queens belong together.”

You purse your lips. “No, kings and queens belong together.”

“Knights and queens make better pairs,” he says immediately before humming. “Y/N, I want to do something.”

Your brow ruffled. “Okay?”

He shook his head. “With you. If you don’t like it, you can tell me to stop and I will, I promise, but I’ve been wanting to do it with you for a while.”

You nodded. “Okay, I will. What is it, Finnick?”

He blushed madly, cheeks turning a bright red as he looked away. “C-Can you close your eyes?”

You do, closing them tightly before something soft lands on your lips. You don’t realize it at first, but Finnick was kissing you. Your lifelong crush was kissing you.

You don’t open your eyes until he pulls away, slowly finding his eyes as he swallows. “W-Was that okay?”

You look at him confused. “Did you just kiss me, Finnick?”

He looked away, mumbling under his breath. “Yeah, yeah I did,” he was blushing madly. “I just… I‘ve been wanting to do it for a while and-”

You pressed your lips to his before he could even finish, holding his cheeks before pulling away. It was soft and quick, but that’s all you really needed. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you rub them softly, clearing your throat. “I uhm… you don’t have to ask next time.”

He starts to smile. “So I can kiss you whenever I want?”

You shove him. “Of course not, dummy! We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend!”

His smile falls. “Why not?”

Your brow furrowed. “You… you want to be?”

“Yeah, I do,” he says quickly, fixing the flower over your ear. “I want to love you until the end of time.”

“Forever?” You ask and he nods.

“And when we meet again in our next life.”

You inhaled shakily as you stood at the end of the white carpet rolled out between the chairs of people, only the most significant you truly wanted to come. Finnick stood on the dock, hands ringing together nervously before he saw you. His jaw drops as he stares, Cinna grinning as he stands between him and where you were going to stand.

Mags had sadly died a few months before Atlas was born, peacefully with you and Finnick by her side. Of course you were heartbroken, but you also knew you would meet again in your next life.

The drums started to play as Atlas tugged on your hand making you look down at him.

“Mama, are you okay? Daddy’s crying.”

You look at Finnick who, sure enough, had tears rolling down his cheeks before he wiped at them.

“Yes baby,” you whisper, your own eyes filling with tears. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m amazing, I’m so, so happy.”

“Well, come on!”

You laughed as he tugged you down the aisle, waving at everyone as Haymitch and Effie grin at you. You smiled widely at them, wiping at your cheeks as you finally got to the dock where the drums stopped.

Atlas ran around you both, running to Cinna who sighed loudly.

“And at last, the day has finally come,” he says, announcing it to everyone here. “Where the King and Queen of Panem are getting married again.”

You can feel the rope being wrapped around you both, your hand holding one end as you stare up at Finnick who leaned his forehead against yours. Cinna continues to speak as Finnick takes the other end, Katniss and Peeta stepping forward to do the same thing they did the first time, but this time, they cut off the previous rope from your wrists before melting the second one around again.

“I have a gift for you both,” Cinna says as the rope stays wrapped around you both, slowly taking a box from his pocket before opening it. “To add onto your rings.”

You gasped as he took out two more rings, one a thinner band with a pearl on it made for Finnick while the other was a vine-shaped gold with a pearl on it as well. He slips them both onto your fingers as you look up at Finnick, eyes watering as he sighed. “I fucking love you, Y/N Odair. I love you so much.”

You giggled, stroking his cheek. “I love you, Finnick Odair. Until the end of time, and in our next life.”

He sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Until the end of time and in our next life, darling.”

“Give her a real kiss, Finnick!” Effie shouts, Atlas groaning in disgust as Finnick pulls his hand from the rope, both of his strong palms resting on your jaw as he pulls you closer, kissing you passionately.

You could taste the slight saltiness from the tears, but you groaned against his lips as you pulled him closer, lower. Everyone cheers as Atlas groans once again.

“Stop being nasty!”

You giggle as you pull away, smiling up at him again. “I love you too, Finnick Odair. Until the end of time, and when we meet in our next life.”

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omg. OMG. THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! OMG!

This is the last chapter, omg. With a heavy heart, this is (kinda) the end! I will start taking requests for Finnick in this universe, the link to request is in at the top! Don't be shy my loves!

© asterias-record-shop

[popponn]

mundane things and where you sit with them. [nagi seishiro x reader]

note: meri krismes everyone. i hope you eat a lot of good food and happiness this month. i watch fr/ie/ren and got socked in the face with 'i learn to love things because of you' while crying. and i might be back to my nagi phase again. hence fit of madness, the return. warning: none, pure fluff, nagi is smitten, reader's gender unspecified, post canon au, established relationship.

nagi seishiro doesn't understand what makes you get so worked up and excited at every single thing.

sometimes you would wear the biggest smile as you point at a cloud with a 'funny shape' or so you said. nagi will always only see some unclear mush. then, you will do your best to describe what you see. sometimes he, sort of, gets it. more often than not, he just nods along for your sake.

sometimes you will bring home a bouquet and give it to him, saying that it is a mark of your love. you then will go on about every meaning of the flower. nagi doesn't really get it still, but before he knows it, he suddenly develops a habit of buying you one every week or so—most of the time simple and made of three flowers, then on every last week of the month it will be a big one. he always has to rely on the florists for the meaning, as the best he could do is to give out his message in simple sentences. it's "i think you are beautiful", it's "i like it when you are happy", and it's "can we tie each other shoes more often even when we can do it by ourselves?"

the florists would always laugh at him and look at him like he was their grandson or something, but nagi let it be. it doesn't bother him much. he always gets his bouquet with an extra little card. you always look so happy when he gives it to you too. sometimes, your eyes teared up a bit and it makes him panic though. thankfully he remembers every single title of your favorite movies and songs, so it's not hard to fix.

all in all, at the bottom line, nagi still doesn't get many things you do and the many little things that make you happy.

he still also doesn't get why you like like him. why you move in with him, why you proclaim you are jealous when he accepts a fan's kiss on his cheek easily, and why you always look so happy with someone like him when other better fit exist for you. but he would never dare to complain.

nagi knows he likes you. he gets whatever blooming feeling shoujo manga and drama describes whenever he is with you. he likes seeing you happy and he likes doing things that make you happy. he especially likes it when he sleeps beside you, or on your lap, or wherever whenever as long he can touch you in some way. the maid king and reo sometimes scold him for that but he is your boyfriend and you never complain, so he ignores them.

and sitting in the ferris wheel with you like this, with his focus on you undisturbed by anything, nagi likes it too. your face brightens up as the gondola the two of you are in gets higher, nearly mushing itself against the window as you admire the scenery and the sky in wonder. nagi, as always, doesn't really get what gets you so worked up and excited over some 'sunset scenery'.

but with the way the light falls on your eyes, with the way orange lines drape over you akin to shining ribbons, and with the way your hold on his hand tightens—nagi supposes he could understand a bit every time he sees you.

intertwining his fingers with you, nagi couldn't really help himself. "hey, can i say something?"

it will be yet another confession barking out of his mouth—one of another next many, many more—but, he doesn't really see a point in holding back anyway.

"you know," seishiro never let his gaze leave you, as if you are the best view in the world, "i really, really like you."

it is yet another simple sentence, but he truly does hope you understand the meaning it carries.

[withahappyrefrain]

Omg I’m obsessed with that list!

I loveeeeee “a hand (or both) placed gently on their cheeks!!!”

I’m picturing Jake cupping her cheek, just smirking at her as she tries to hide her gaze. He leans in. *swoon* 🫠

(If you’re still taking requests)

This SCREAMS Jake!

You don't want to enjoy it. You're not supposed to. You're only here with him to prove a point, to put an end to his nagging, his begging.

The bouquet of flowers he showed up with was all an act, nothing more. Considering the green, shapeless flight suit he wore everyday, of course he would look good in jeans and a button up. A damn button up was not going to make you weak in the knees.

Not for Jake Seresin.

And none of those things did make you weak in the knees.

Instead, it was the amount of thought he put into planning the date. The way his attention to every detail revealed that Jake had been paying attention to you, picking up on things even when you thought he wasn't listening.

"You wanna go see the penguins now? I know they're your favorite," he gently squeezed your hand, enabling you to still look at the manatees swimming around in the aquarium.

"How do you-"

"Your call sign. That's where it's from, isn't it?"

You bit your bottom lip, trying not to appear flustered. Only your original squad knew that you got your callsign from an obsession with an old Christmas claymation film, featuring a penguin named Topper.

A large hand gently placed itself on one of your heated cheeks. Jake's thumb curved around your chin, forcing you to look up.

Normally the sight of that smirk irritated you.

But now it made your heart flutter. Now you found yourself memorized by his emerald eyes, by his pink lips, his dimples.

"Isn't it?" Jake asks again, his voice softer.

"Y-yeah. How did you...." Your voice trailed off, too distracted by how his lips were mere inches away from yours.

"You're my favorite girl, of course I knew." His words made your knees weak, always did. That nickname he bestowed after a week of knowing you. That nickname you always tried to brush off.

"Bet you say that to everyone," the words leaving your mouth were soft, a soft smile adorning your face instead of it's usually forced scowl.

"Just you babydoll." This time when he leans in, you don't step away. This time, you enjoy the scent of sandalwood, how soft his blonde hair felt against your forehead.

This time you enjoyed it when his lips brushed against yours, tilting your head up to better access his mouth, your hands finding themselves on his broad shoulders.

[missmonsters2]

—KAIROSCLEROSIS | TEN (FINAL)

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Everything comes to settle in the aftermath. You're healing and Wednesday takes the time to consider what she's experiencing until she picks it apart in a way she can tolerate it. You are hers, though. That is for certain.

Warnings: softsoftsoftsoft. so soft. Wednesday is soft. cuddling. happy ending. healing. bantering. did i say soft? crying it's so soft. satisfying aftermath. the nickname bet comes to an end. soft in case you were unaware.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist, but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: book 1 has come to an end! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this series <3 Sequel is on it's way along with some oneshots! series masterlist has been re-edited with info.

Part Nine

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kairosclerosis: Noun. The moment you realize that you're currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart, and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it's little more than an aftertaste.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday sits beside your hospital bed, quietly reading Goody's spellbook. The only noise is the sound of your quiet breathing and the steady beeping from the machine that monitors your heart rate. 

The spellbook is coming in handy already. Wednesday has just discovered a better remedial salve—one that should actually speed up the healing process. Once Enid arrives, Wednesday would be free to go and gather the ingredients she needed. She would need some honey from Eugene's bees, and she recalled a plant in the greenhouse with the pulp she needed.

A particularly deep breath draws Wednesday's attention from her book. Her head tilts slightly over as she peers at you. Your eyes are closed, unaware of anything as you slept on. You had to be put on your stomach so that your wings could rest without anything touching them. 

The reopened wounds had to be stitched back together and then bandaged, which the doctor noted would have to be for two weeks and frequently changed. Wednesday was merely waiting for you to be discharged, and she could take your healing into her own hands. The nurse earlier had received a scathing glare when she was not delicate in changing your bandages yesterday, causing your brows to furrow as you slept on. 

Morons, Wednesday vehemently decided then. They couldn't be trusted with you. 

"You should wake up soon," Wednesday says, even though you never reply. She doesn't even know if you're listening. "It's much too sunny without you."

"Wednesday," Enid sighs as she walks into the room, a new bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Why are you up again? You're supposed to be resting too. You got stabbed in the arm!"

"This is hardly anything," Wednesday raises her brow as she closes the spellbook and puts it back into her bag. "It honestly hurts more when I punch Pugsley."

“You mean when Pugsley punches you?”

“No.”

"Still," Enid frowns, looking over her roommate. Despite only having been two days since the ordeal, Wednesday threatened the hospital staff to discharge her mere hours after she got cleaned and fixed up. 

You could barely tell that Wednesday was injured by the way she continued wearing long sleeves, tidy braids, and lack of reaction. The only visible sign was the bandage she had to wear over her temple. 

"Fae will be upset if you refuse to rest and heal when she wakes up." Enid looks over to you, biting her bottom lip. A part of her wants to cry at how banged up you looked. She knew—could smell how much blood there was that night. But now you really looked broken with the machines hooked up to you and the red-stained bandages wrapped over your wings. 

It was worse than when Eugene was in the hospital last year. 

Wednesday looks at you once more as she prepares to leave. Your back rises and falls with each steady breath. "Then I suppose she'll have to wake up if she wants me to even consider listening to her grievances against me."

Walking out the door, Wednesday doesn't spare you another glance as she walks down the corridors. The nurses give her a wide berth, the lights flickering as she walks. 

A room comes up as she makes her way to the stairwell. There are two police guards posted outside. As she passes, she looks into the window and sees a lanky boy with messy hair and gauze bandages wrapped around his eyes and head. He's completely unaware. 

Wednesday smiles sinisterly. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Miss Addams," Weems greets as she puts down her fancy fountain pen, gesturing for Wednesday to come closer.

Wednesday wordlessly takes a seat, her face impassive. 

They stare at each other for a long moment before Weems lets out a long, tired sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose before she looks at the macabre girl. 

"How are your classes going?" Weems asks.

Wednesday looks unimpressed as she lets out a dull "Fine."

"I hear you're taking class notes for Fae when she wakes up," Weems smiles then, and Wednesday narrows her eyes.

"Only because Enid's writing is so cacographic that it'd be more legible if it was put through a shredder."

Weem merely chuckles, rubbing her temples. "The reason I've called you to my office is that the investigation is finally coming to an end." Weems folds her hands together on the desk in front of her. "I know you've given the police your statement, but I thought I'd get the event recounted by you myself."

"I've assumed you read the report?" Wednesday asks, her chin jilted slightly. 

Weems nods.

"Then you already know what happened. I will not be changing my story," Wednesday raises her brow. "She was kidnapped. I found the clues to where she was and the fact that Henry was the culprit. When I arrived, she was unconscious and chained to the table, poisoned with a draeconium potion."

Wednesday watches as Weems's hands tighten slightly.

"Henry gave his unremarkable sob story before we engaged in combat. The noises woke her up, and she freed herself before she defended us against Henry."

"I noticed you weren't very descriptive in this area in your report," Weems points out.

"Everything she did was something only a high lord's daughter or a night faerie would be able to do, so I will keep it to myself. The police are welcome to come and try to get an answer out of me," Wednesday's eyes glint as she gives a sharp smile, "but at their own risk."

Weems gives a wry smile and waves her hand for Wednesday to continue.

"Henry's desperation to attack us and gain the upper hand led him to strain his eyes and lose consciousness. At that moment, Enid and everyone else barged in as they finally escaped his mindscape. We all made our way back here to get medical help."

Weems stares at Wednesday after the girl finishes recounting the story. "I see," the principal says evenly after a moment. "And that was what happened? Henry lost consciousness and you left him there immediately after?"

"Yes. I wasn't going to go out of my way to bring back a kidnapper and our attempted murderer," Wednesday shrugs. 

"He could have died," Weems emphasizes pointedly. "Which would've been another death here at Nevermore two years in a row."

"His failure to kill us both is his own fault. He should deal with the consequences of it himself. The authorities were able to get them, were they not? I hear he's resting in his own guarded room." There was a telling smirk on Wednesday's face.

"Yes," Weems's voice is hard. "Though I'm sure you know the guards are useless, considering he no longer has eyes and can't use his gift anymore."

"I heard rumors around the hospital," Wednesday's face was indifferent again. 

"Wednesday," Weems sighs. "This was a disaster. Henry Morrison Sr wants to further investigate the disappearance of his son's eyes. He's convinced that they were surgically removed and considering there was only you in this situation that was conscious, he wants to press charges against you."

"Is he an absolute moron?" Wednesday raises her brow. "Is he not aware of what his son attempted to do?"

"Yes, well—"

"I encourage him to try to press charges against me with the lack of evidence he has. This case would be so laughable, I wouldn't even need to hire legal help with how guaranteed my victory is."

"Yes," Weems cuts in before Wednesday can say anything else. "And I told him as such."

Wednesday sharply looks at the principal, her eyes full of suspicion. She has no doubts that Weems knew she had gouged out Henry's eyes. After all, she had timed it perfectly for the authorities to arrive on time before he could die. 

The optic nerve was completely severed to ensure his psychic abilities could never manifest again, and then she fed his eyeballs to the fish in the river as she rowed her way back. 

"I have informed Mr. Morrison Sr that back in 1956, there was a similar incident where a psychic had over-exerted himself, resulting in his eyes bursting and it seemed that may be the case here." Weems's eyes seem to search for something in Wednesday, but it doesn't seem like she's looking for the truth. "There's no proof indicating otherwise. With that, Henry Jr is expelled, obviously."

"Will he be going to jail like Tyler?" Wednesday's quick to ask.

"Well, considering only one student attacked—no, I'm not counting you as you foolishly went after Fae alone—it's not enough to warrant having the academy file charges—"

"Of course," Wednesday hisses disdainfully. "We wouldn't want to potentially harm the school's impeccable reputation—"

"—That being said," Weems cut in forcefully, giving Wednesday a stern look. "As Fae's guardian, I am personally filing charges. I'm quite confident Morrison Sr will want to accept the plea bargain when we meet next week, lest he wants a long, grueling court battle where I will drag his family name through the mud."

Wednesday went quiet. She doesn't apologize, but there's a mild look of respect in Wednesday’s eyes. Her eyes flicker down and then back up. "Why did you want me to recount the report if the investigation has obviously concluded?"

Weems gathers the paper on her desk, shuffling them to line up. "I merely wanted to hear the events in your own words, as the police will still want Fae's matching statement when she awakens."

Wednesday stares on.

"I'm dismissing you for the day," Weems says as she puts the papers back on her desk. "I'm rather tied up with things I cannot put off, and I have a meeting in half an hour. There's a car waiting for you at the gates."

"Why—" Wednesday starts to ask, but she can feel her heart thudding against her ribcage almost painfully, and she relishes in it. 

"I have let the hospital staff know you'll be arriving to check her out on my authorization. I have already handled her discharge papers over the phone earlier. Listen to me for once and arrive before the police do," Weems says, dismissing Wednesday.

Wednesday gets up and walks out of the office briskly. She begins to walk towards the gates outside but stops. Turning towards her room, Wednesday first goes there and picks up the fuzzy black blanket, folding it neatly together, then draping it over her arm. She grabs a single grape lollipop from Enid's desk before she takes the shortest way to the front gates. 

The ride feels tediously long, and Wednesday snaps at the driver to drive faster. It barely comes to a stop before Wednesday gets out and walks through the hospital doors. She doesn't make herself known to the front desk receptionists and takes the stairwell up and down the memorized pathway to room 316. 

The door is already open, but there's no noise inside. There's a moment when Wednesday's heart drops at the lack of noise. Wednesday's used to feeling miserable; it brings her comfort and joy now even to feel so. Occasionally, she'll feel a type of misery she could live without. 

Wednesday's never been aware of how un-miserable she wants to be as she approaches your door. 

The moment Wednesday steps in, her face doesn't change at all. If anything, she looks more dispassionate than usual. 

But she blinks. 

"Hi, Wednesday."

You've probably said it hundreds of times now. You've said it in the same tone over and over, but Wednesday suddenly feels like it's better than any music she's heard. It even sounds better than Pugsley's screams. 

You're smiling at her. You look tired with the bags and dark circles under your eyes, but you're alive, and you look so—Wednesday clenches her jaw—hers. You just look like hers. Franz Kafka said it best: you are the knife she turns inside herself. 

"You are so cruel, Wednesday. I wake up to make your world less sunny, and you bring me only one grape lollipop? Rest assured you'll be listening to the grievances I have against you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"We should get up soon, I need to apply your salve."

"Can't you just apply it like this? You did yesterday."

"Need I remind you how long it took and in the end, I had to get up to get to the places I couldn't reach."

"I think I can stretch my wings further today. You might not have to get up."

Wednesday sighs at your mutterings but leaves it be. You'll probably be more agreeable to moving in an hour anyway. 

Your body is a steady weight on top of hers, and you radiate a warmth that Wednesday thought would make her uncomfortable with how cool her body normally is. But it just makes everything tepid, and Wednesday finds she has a penchant for it. 

Your head rests against her chest, and you once commented how eerie it was that it was such a slow and quiet heartbeat, like she might as well be dead. The words were entirely flattering. 

Wednesday stares at the ceiling; she knows you're slowly falling asleep again. The past two weeks, you've been rather boring as all you can do is rest, but Wednesday finds it gives her a lot of time to think.

Her story has slowly been changing—it has been ever since she's grown closer to you. Between the mysteries and the morbidity of everything, her main character seems to be experiencing something else too. 

Wednesday thinks about what it means to her and comes to an utterly disgusting conclusion. 

She's happy. 

It's so repugnant that Wednesday constantly sneers at herself. She has no desire to expand on it, but she'll catch herself thinking of useless things. It dampens the happiness into something Wednesday's also unfamiliar with, and she can't decide which is worse. 

Wednesday's fingers trail over the arches of your wings, feeling the bone just underneath the soft feathers. Your wing twitches, but you say nothing. She continues her exploration of her wings, careful over the wounds that are still slowly healing but have been much better with the salve she created using Goody's spellbook. 

Your wings start trilling when Wednesday reaches further toward the middle. The skin is thinner there, but the feathers are lush and thick.

"Tickles," you mumble, your brows furrowing but not opening your eyes.

Wednesday glances down at you before she pulls the blanket up higher. "Come with me to my manor on the next Parents' Day."

You let out a big yawn, ruffling your feathers with a small shake. "Are you sure?" You mumble, still sleepy.

"My mother invited you."

You hum. "Sure, it'd be nice to see where you live. I think I'll want to have dinner with Larissa on Friday night, but I can leave after."

"We'll go together on Saturday morning."

"'kay," you mutter sleepily. 

There's a lull in silence again, and Wednesday feels discontentment in her chest. She wonders if you can hear it as you lay over her heart.

Wednesday clears her throat. "I have thought of a moniker for you."

She can feel you smiling.

"Oh?" You say amusedly, but you continue to lay there with your eyes closed. "Let's hear it."

"I believe we should just stick with Fae. We've already gone on too long, and there'd be no point in changing it now. Even if other faeries came to this school, there's still only one Fae. You'd merely confuse everyone with a new alias."

You let out a laugh then, shifting in Wednesday's arms. "It took you six months to come to that conclusion? Did you even come up with anything else?"

"Nothing that I would allow anyone else to call you," Wednesday huffs with annoyance, still cursing her father's passed-on nicknaming abilities.

"Why not?"

Silence again. Wednesday seems to be debating her discontentment before she says, "you are mine."

It's so simple, the words and the way she says it. 

You finally open your eyes as you lift your head to look up at Wednesday, who is resting against the headboard of your bed. She looks at you as if challenging you to say otherwise. 

"So, we're dating?" You tilt your head.

"Yes," Wednesday says with finality but also looks pained at the frivolous words and then sighs. "I never thought I'd be capable of wanting someone like this. I don't do feelings but all you make me do is feel things I have to research later."

"What kind of words?"

"Ridiculous words that I'm convinced are fake," Wednesday deadpans. "Regardless, I don't do feelings, but the idea of not experiencing more with you is unbearable."

"You're mine then?" you say, and it's more of a statement than a question.

"I am," Wednesday confirms.

You let out a soft laugh, and Wednesday tilts her head. 

"I never thought I'd ever have anyone to call mine," you say with a quiet smile. "I have very few things, Wednesday. I promise to treat you very well."

Wednesday nods once, her fingers tracing over a feather. You lift yourself higher with your hands, coming face to face with the grim girl, your nose brushing against hers. She was so serious looking.

"I discovered last year that I'm capable of evolving," Wednesday says quietly, her lips brushing against yours as her hands rest on the small of your back. "It's inequitable how much you've affected me."

You smile widely then, your lips parting in a huff of laughter. They're so ridiculous. Really, you're made for her, and she's made for you. "Wednesday, you've changed me since the day I laid my eyes on you." You kiss her, and the only noise in the room is the sound of your wings gently fluttering with excitement and Wednesday's stolen breath.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I believe I've come up with an acceptable arrangement of your epithet," Wednesday declares. "I'm owed your phone number."

You don't even look at her as you blindly reach for your phone on your desk, too comfortable to move from lying on top of Wednesday as you cuddle.

Wednesday watches you fiddle around on your device before her phone in her sweater pocket vibrates. 

She pulls her phone out and sees there's a text from you.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx: save this number 😗

"What is the meaning of this?" Wednesday asks, her voice low and dangerous, but you seem unbothered.

"You have my number now?"

"You had my phone number this entire time?" Wednesday feels something brewing inside of her, and it's mainly murder. 

You nod, still lying on top of her with your eyes closed. "Enid gave it to me after the bet was made."

"Why?" Wednesday demanded.

"Because I asked for it?"

"Then why make the ridiculous bet? Did you enjoy listening to such brainless suggestions?" 

"I told you," you smile. "I only make bets where I'll win either way. I wanted you to come up with something and win to give you the excuse of asking for my number. If you didn't, then Enid was already giving up and about to suggest we stick to Fae the next time it got brought up. I would've texted you after the bet was over."

Wednesday stares down at you, and she bores into the side of your head and plots silently.

"You are detestable, but I respect your strategy and deception. Although, regardless of the fact you are mine will not save you from my revenge."

You finally look up at Wednesday's unimpressed stare and smile at her. 

"Threatening me with a good time again, are you?"

END

EPILOGUE 1

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Hope you enjoyed the series! :)

I will be opening up a temporary taglist of 50 people to be notified when the oneshots and sequel is up! Comment or reblog on this post only to be added (pls don't send to my inbox bc i will miss it 💔) you can still always follow my library blog for notifs @missmonsters2-library

[f10werfae]

My Wife, My Love

pairing: Construction!BF!Chris x GF!Reader

Summary: with y/n taking a new job across town, her hunk of a man pays her a steamy visit, and big decisions are made

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

can be read as part of build up

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 8 years younger and is in early 20s), dirty talk, spit, breast play, penetration, breeding kink, slight humiliation, squirting, oral

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

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(Y/n's P.O.V)

Ever since I had met Chris all those months ago, we had honestly been texting non stop even though I had started a new job as a chef a whole town away. I was missing his cute handsome face, and the way he just loved on me.

After throwing out the rest of food I couldn’t bare to finish, I just sat staring at the dull ass grey walls of my apartment, the atmosphere itself just draining. Sure there were a few family pictures laying about the place and mementos, but nothing ever beats being back home where everything you know is.

With the occasional sext and visit from Chris I was able to get by, although he did say I was not to touch what was his and I was not going to go against that

Even though my pa strongly disapproved of us, mostly due to the age gap, I did not let that waver my decision of seeing Chris. I'm in love with this man.

*Knock Knock*

Letting out a massive sigh I opened the door to see a massive bouquet of flowers being pushed to my face, before I saw a head poke out from the side.

"CHRIS?!" I squealed grabbing the flowers and setting them on the table by the door, jumping straight into his arms, a deep chuckle reverberating through his chest as he brought us inside.

“Well don’t ya look all pretty? Don’t suppose you were dressin' up for someone else were ya sugar?” He teased setting me on one of my bar stools in the kitchen, his hands not letting go of my waist.

“Nuh uh, was jus' thinkin bout you” I replied bitting my lip smirking back at him, his beard had grown and so had his hair, giving him a more matured sexy look.

“Oh yeah? what was you thinkin’ about?”

He inquired leaning in closer to me, his hands situating themselves onto my thighs to rub onto them softly. “Just thinkin thoughts” I said dismissively kicking my legs back and forth.

“Alright alright I won’t push ya, but I got somethin for ya” He laughed taking off his backpack, that’s when my eyes were glued to what he was wearing. A white tight polo shirt that accentuated his body, along with a pair of black trackies, how was this my man?

“This is for you when i’m not around” He said pulling out a brown teddy bear, dressed in construction work, it even had the name tag Chris on it.

“Aw Chris” I pouted taking the furry thing into my arms and hugging it dearly, hell he even sprayed it with his citrus cologne.

“You’re so sweet” I cooed looking up at the older man who I now had wrapped around my finger. Setting the teddy onto the counter behind me, I brought my hand up to behind his neck and pulled him down for his lips to meet mine.

My soft pink ones being pressed against his, it wasn’t long before I felt his tongue probing at my lips to open them, which he did. His teeth clashing against mine as his tongue ravaged my mouth, both of our lips now shiny with saliva as he pulled away smirking.

“God did I miss my sweet girl” His whispered, his thumb brushing under my bottom lip before he stood up fully.

“Where’d you get this flimsy thing then?” He suddenly asked pulling at the bow of my sundress, with it now being spring I had spent a lot of my pay on new dresses, this one being my new favourite.

“I-I bought it at the mall”

“It’s beautiful honey, ya look like my wife already” He smirked playing around with the tied ribbon at the front of it, his teeth holding onto his bottom lip as he stood back to look at me full view.

“A-are you hungry baby? I have some pasta from this morning in the microwave, I did have some pancakes but I threw them out”

“I’ll take anythin my girl makes” He said sliding onto the bar stool after I got off, his eyes trained on me while I moved around the kitchen flawlessly, my hair now tied into a high ponytail. “Gah I can’t wait to come home from work n’ jus see you waitin for me at home like this. All pretty and domestic” He swooned, his head resting on the palm of his hand.

“Yeah well you gotta ask me first” I joked taking the pasta out of the microwave and setting it in front of him, taking the seat beside him.

“Baby this is so good” He groaned as I fed him his first bite, a proud smile coming onto my face knowing my man enjoyed what I was eating.

“You gon cook for our babies like this? They’re so lucky”

“Stop it Chris you’re makin' me all flustered” I groaned gathering some more macaroni onto my fork,

“What? Am I lyin? We both know we’re gettin married and havin kids” He shrugged knowingly, a smirk evident on his face while his hand rested on my knee.

-

With the pasta now finished, Chris had taken it upon himself to grab my hand and walk us into my bedroom, luckily it could even fit a double bed. Kicking his socks off, he layed down with an arm folded behind his head, the other patting his chest as an invitation for me to lay down.

“C'mere I missed ya?” He whispered nuzzling into my hair once I got down beside him, his arms now surrounding my waist.

Using his nose he nudged me head up and caught my lips between his, if there was anything Chris loved, it was kissing, doesn’t matter how filthy it gets.

“Stick your fuckin’ tongue out baby” He growled into my mouth, taking my tongue and sucking it between his plump lips. Mewls leaving my mouth the harder he went, letting go he leant back and spat straight onto my tongue, his mouth clamping right back onto mine to delve deeper.

“Gah your mouth is so fuckin' pretty baby, is this all for me? My mouth to use?”

“Mhm all yours” I moaned feeling him flip up the skirt part of my dress and shove his hands down my underwear. His fingers wasting no time,

“Spit” He demanded holding his fingers out in front of me, smirking when I did so and using it to lube up my own clit.

“Aww did you miss this beautiful? Your pussy is soaked, awk look your panties are soiled” He said in a degrading voice, now holding up my stained underwear between his fingers before throwing it off to wherever.

“Please baby” I breathed out, feeling his fingers slide back and forth between my pussy lips.

“Please what hunny? Ya know I need words”

“I need your mouth”

In seconds he had moved downwards, his hot breath fanning me,

“Wan' you to look me in the eyes while I kiss your pretty pussy alright? Wanna look at your pretty eyes while I make you come” He said taking both of my hands and intertwining them with his, his eyes staring deeply into my soul. His lips first placed a kiss onto my lips, his tongue teasing the slit between them with his spit.

“Ya like how I kiss your pussy like I do your mouth?”

“Mhm” I moaned out watching more and more of his face disappear, his mouth now sucking gently on my clit, my hands squeezing his letting him know just how good he was making me feel. A knot started to build up in my stomach, I knew this feeling before, it happened last time we met up

“Chris I-I think i’m gonna sq-“ Chris groaned like an animal, the sound of him slurping up my juices only made me even more horny when he came up and kissed me. Letting me taste myself onto his tongue, I felt my eyes roll back when he started humping his hardened cock into my sensitive clit.

His trackies now pulled down to his ankles as he rutted against me, his face in between my tits as he kissed and licked them as if his life depended on it.

“Baby i’m gonna wife the fuck outta you, gon have you everyday all day when the time comes, your pussys just gonna be throbbin constantly for me”

He groaned, the tip of his cock now slipping in between my folds and into my wet hole, it’s almost as if we were made for each other.

(Chris' P.O.V)

“Fahk Y/n, jus wanna be in you all day” I moaned sinking into her, bottoming out so my balls rested on her ass. Her face dazed out, with her eyes half lidded looking at me with so much love, this girl really had my heart in her hands.

I always thought I’d end up alone in life in the end, everyone else around me had gotten married n whatnot, but here I am fucking the love of my life senselessly.

Thrusting up into her once, a small whimper came out of her pouty lips, her hands grabbing on tightly to my biceps. A smirk forming onto my face as her eyes rolled back the faster I went on.

“You’re so beautiful baby, you’re my wife aren’t ya? Jus made for me and for me alone” I taunted, one of my hands ripping the front of her dress to reveal her braless breasts, the sight of them bouncing in rhythm only made me harder. Her nipples only getting bigger the harder they got, bless they were basically asked to me sucked on and who was I to defy them of that.

Bending my neck down I took one nipple in my mouth sucking relentlessly,

“Fuck Chris, you know how sensitive my tits are”

“I know baby, but i’m here to take care of you remember?” I said licking all over her breasts, my spit gathering on her sternum which slowly dribbled down to add onto her wet pussy. Releasing her tit with a loud pop, I felt her clench around my cock tightly, she was about to cum and I could feel it. The thought of filling her up only made this even more hotter, my cock starting to build up.

“I wanna kiss you while I cum baby, please I want a kiss” She moaned out hazily, her tongue just sticking out helplessly, her drool spilling onto her chin making me smirk at her expression. Taking her tongue into my mouth, I felt her moan into it, instead of thrusting faster I chose to go deeper and slower hitting her spot over and over again.

I opened my eyes to see her brows furrowed in ecstasy, feeling her suck and bite on the tip of my tongue cutely almost as if she couldn’t take the size of it either.

(Y/n's P.O.V)

With his tongue between my lips, I was pushed over the edge when his thumb started toying with my clit, my body arching back into the bed as I came, Chris kissing all over my tits and stomach. His thrusting continuing to slap into my hips as he chased his own high, my pussy now throbbing from him.

“Please cum Chris, wanna feel all warm n full of you baby” I moaned taking his face between my hands and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, my hands going around his shoulders to hide myself in his neck.

“Oh baby I’ll do whatever ya want, even give you a baby if that’s what it takes. Gonna show everyone that you’re walkin' around full of my cum”

He whispered gritting his teeth, his cock twitching inside of me before I felt him spurt his warm cum deep inside me. A deep chuckle leaving him as he sat up and grabbed his phone from the floor, taking a picture of his cum leaking out of my abused raw pussy.

A raw blush on my face as he showed me the picture with pride, throwing the phone once again to the side.

“Ya alright gorgeous, didn’t go too hard did I?”

He asked, his eyes now looking at me tenderly, coming up to lay beside me. Shaking my head I leaned over and rested my head onto his chest, his arm resting over me as it softly tickled my back.

How could I survive another minute without him here? In another few days he’d have to go back home and i’d be here all alone again, glooming about the place because despite being here for ages, there was not one friendly soul in this place. Sure the pay is amazing, but what about my dreams of starting my own bakery? Was I really about to give all that up? What about Chris? I really really love him and I don’t wanna stay away from him, and I don’t think I can

“What ya thinkin' about babe” Chris' hands ran over my furrowed brows, a concerned look on his face as he kissed my forehead comfortingly.

“I-I wanna come back home Chris. I hate it here, i’m so lonely and it doesn’t feel right at all. I miss you, ma and pa, Dodger and everything else” I whined nuzzling further into his chest, if that was even possible.

“If that’s what you really want baby, who am I to object to that and I certainly won’t object to havin ya home alla time. Heck if it was alright with ya i’d move you straight in with me”

He laughed out,

“Really? You would do that?” I said shocked, wide eyed looking up at his baby blues,

“Of course hun, ya know i’ve been workin on my house for a while, there’s enough space for kids n' everythin else you could possibly need and want. N’ I know your pa probably won’t agree cus we ain’t married, but trust give me a few months and there’ll be a rock right here”

He whispered holding onto my ring finger, a gushy smile creeping it’s way onto my lips before I leant up and pressed a small sensual peck onto his lips.

“I’d love to move in with you Chris, if you’ll have me?”

“If i’ll have ya? Baby you’re already with me”

———

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