#i'll take you to the sun : threads

[luveline]

Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?

Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done

thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve

cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress 

Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.

He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin. 

"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly. 

You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had. 

"Steve," he corrects. 

"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?" 

"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more." 

"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress." 

"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?" 

"It wasn't gross," you say softly. 

"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring." 

You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it." 

"You're too mean to yourself," he says. 

Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble. 

It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches. 

Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again. 

"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches." 

Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency. 

"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?" 

"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake." 

"Did someone say that to you?" 

"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.  

He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week. 

You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists. 

To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does. 

"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?" 

"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. 

"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock. 

"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask. 

"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?" 

Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.

There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met. 

"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile. 

"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional." 

"And you as mandatory?"

"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."

You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife. 

"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages." 

He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.  

—

if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing

[thesirencult]

PAC READING: CHRISTMAS WISHES FROM YOUR FS

PILE 1

Your FS is going through a "10 Of Swords" moment. They have been blinded from the truth. Her light is stronger than any illusion's. You are part of this truth. You and this person share a very special soul bond. Your lives' are parallel to eachother, a thin thread connecting the dots until the moment you meet.

"Keep your map close to your chest darling.

Not many people will understand the journey you are embarking on. I do. I want you to know that I wish that all wishes come true the next year. I'm kinda hopping one of them involves me ; )

I wish you get to heal. I wish the sun is warming up your skin and your eyes are shining with hope. I wish I was there to hold your hand. We could embrace eachother under the sun.

You are my sun.

My Sun. Take the chance and that leap of faith. It will bring you closer to happiness and to me. There are times the most illogical choice and the most risky one leads us to success. The paradox of risk.

I wish you keep the flame in your heart alight and your optimism helps you rise above every single. I wish you find love and guidance within your soul.

Goodbye, for now, my Sun and Merry Christmas <3"

PILE 2

Your person is not happy. They are far away from you but energetically they can feel that you are struggling. Your person is very spiritual and they want you to hold on for a tiny bit longer. They might be older than you. When you meet they will take on the role of a mentor. They see you, the real you and they want to help this diamond form under pressure.

Your FS is very calm, cool and collected. They know what they want. Your message is more heav,y but I know, deep in my heart, that you are telepathetically connected and they constantly send you messages, especially through songs and quotes you stumble upon.

"I wish you could see yourself from my POV. The amazing, beautiful, strong soul that you are. I wish you could look at life through a different prism. I want you to take the reigns and show everyone who you are. I wish you find the strength to own your beauty.

Your energy is mesmerizing. Like a cold night under the full moon and a wolf howling in the background. Hecate.

Choose sovereignty. Choose yourself baby. You're not unlucky. Your time just hasn't come yet.

I want you to push one last time baby. Do it for me. I'm sorry I'm not there to wish you "Happy Christmas".

I wish you manifest your dreams,I wish you dare to invest in your future, in our future without thinking you don't deserve it.

You have more options than you think. Don't make any bad choice you will regret later.

I love you baby. I want you to be healthy and strong."

PILE 3

Your FS is very "hungry" for you. They want you to let them take control. They are more possessive and obsessive than you would expect. They show their emotions through touch and on the bed.

They are daring and won't mind to show that you are theirs to everyone. Your FS knows taht you have big goals and they want you to know that in the future you will achieve all your dreams.

They are pretty succesfull themselves and they want you to get that bag and level up. They love material things and they invest in their future. You would meet in an environment supporting your level up (gym, career day, course, seminar etc.).

"My lovey dovey Sweetheart,

I wish you indulge this season. I wish you let your hair down for a while. When you are mine I will help you calm down. I will take the burdens off of your shoulders and tie your hands. Merry Christmas my lovely baby. I wish this time next year we are together, driving around in our luxury vehicles.

Let me dominate you. Let me take control. I will wrap satin sheets around you and carry you to the bathroom. A bathtub full of rose petals. Champagne for you my love. Sit on my face.

I wish you achieve all your goals. I wish you get your dream car, you bossy little lady. I will hold your hand through everything. I'll be by your side on long nights and I will proudly parade you around and show you off to everyone. I want them to know that the most accomplished person is mine.

You are mine. Mine. Mine.

Always yours, your FS."

[shidouryusm]

𓆩♡𓆪✿༝༚༝༚-> tending to gojo satoru when he's sick and you're lovesick

Satoru x gn!reader

1.5k (Y'all shouldn't even be fazed atp im mentally ill ofc I'll write like crazy)

content- fluff, sick!gojo, banters, mentions of death (but not in any angsty way), too corny for its own good.

a.n -> this is way too self-indulgent. I just plastered a piece of my daily delusions with satoru in words. hope y'all will enjoy this little piece mwuah. I'm so lovesick for this idiot im not even embarrassed. a ginormous kiss to @stsgluver and @planetnini for proofreading and nini fixing all the little things. she is my second pair of eyes :3

Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer of his age. The man bestowed with Six Eyes and Limitless, literally untouchable with a millimeter of radius separating him from the physicality of the world. The absolute one man army — is currently whining with a wet towel wrapped around his forehead, rolling over the bed with a mere fever. 

“Baby, I think I’ve reached my end. We gotta prepare for my funeral” Satoru mumbles groggily, his eyes partly covered with a damp towel. 

“Don’t just say anything, ‘Toru.” you hum, sitting by his side as you massage his head over the towel. He whines with his hands wrapped around your waist, nudging you closer to him. 

Your boyfriend has always been an overdramatic nuisance in regards to everything ; a little too spoiled for his own good and a concealed face from the world that always yearns to be babied by you. Yet you cave, almost 9 out of 10 times, for how unconditionally lovable he is and manages to be everytime.

As of now – when he’s all theatrical with a cold fever, lips jutted in a small pout. Face scrunched up — which is scrunching a bit more…his forehead crinkles and nostrils flare-

“ANCHEWWWWW-”

His upper body jolts off the bed from the intensity, spraying droplets of sneeze in the air, the towel from his forehead dropping down to his lap.  

You crinkle your nose momentarily from the two second snot hurricane that he just spewed everywhere but you continue to rub gentle circles on his broad back. 

His body slumps into the mattress again as you put the towel back on his forehead. Toru shakes his head, “I'm telling you, baby. This is your final moment to write an obituary for me– how your boyfriend was the strongest as he stood resilient against the invisible sickness, and he stepped into the endless journey to the afterworld with the pretty face, hot body-”

“”Toru, do you ever shut up?” 

“No I don't. I thought you knew” he pouts before sniffling audibly due to the cold. 

You roll your eyes, exhaling a sigh. Nearly impossible to fight against him, even when he's knocked down in the bed. Rather, you decide to run your hands through his snowy white hairs, all splayed out on the mattress. He basks in the touch of your soft hands, humming gently. 

“A millions of curses failed to do that and you think a simple virus would? That’s pretty underperforming coming from you, don’t you think, ‘Toru?” you quip amusedly, earning a little scowl from the man.

“Curses are child’s play for me. Your boyfriend isn’t the strongest for no reason.” Satoru grumbles. 

“Yet can’t deal with a cold?”

“Now. I can’t fight biology, can I?” a hint of indignance in his voice.

You chuckle as you pinch his cheek,“Just playing with you, sicko boy.” you ruffle his hair before idly playing with them again, your fingers threading through the strands like some soft cushion.

The moment stills into the air with comfortable silence except from the little sniffles Satoru is occasionally letting out. You take in the beauty of this quietude.

The room lits with the mellowy rays of the sun – the slanted, golden beams cutting through the white blinds as it bounces off the white walls, leaving a  warm brightness around.

The dust particles dance along the reflecting light on one of the corners and little chirps of birds outside melts into the air. There’s an endless blue casted on the sky and a remarkable silence veils you that is nothing but homely to revel in. 

Moments like this are hard to catch like those dusts under the sunlight but living through them feels nothing less than walking into a dream and experiencing every minute humane feelings. 

Every note of inanimate objects mixed with the soft song of nature makes your heart bloom with gratitude for feeling through them, especially with Satoru … despite how beat up with fever he may look right now. 

You look at your sleeping boyfriend, his face morphing into an expression of comfort and content. Lips partly open to breath due to his congested nose. His chest heaves from the breaths and one of his arms strew across your lap, keeping the warmth of your body close to him. 

You marvel at the effortless beauty this man possesses. 

Even with a nasty cold, loose t-shirt, sniffling nose and disheveled hair, he managed to look like the most beautiful boy in the world.

Your beautiful boy. 

Trailing your hands down his cheek, you gently cup them in your hands, your thumb runs over the rosy swell of his cheek, moving up to his eyelids. his snowy eyelashes brush against the pads of your thumb while you tenderly caress them. 

“So beautiful…” you whisper into the air, looking at his sleeping figure with utmost fondness. Completely in awe with your ability to love him to the point of stretching infinity. 

-

Hearing the two words escape your mouth, Satoru couldn’t help but break out of his character. His broad hands wrap around your wrist and he opens eyes with a squint, adjusting to the brightness. A teasing grin breaking out in his face. “Hehe, heard you~” his cerulean eyes brightens on seeing you a little flustered. 

Way to ruin the tranquility of the moment. 

He pulls your wrist close to his mouth, delicately kissing the inside of your palm, “You know, it’s not bad. I could definitely use some of that kindness every once in a while.” Satoru hums. 

“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything” you feign innocence, not really knowing why you feel the need to deny it. 

“Mmhmm. Sure. I just heard voices in my head” he hums sardonically, his hands still tangled with yours. 

“Yes. you were dreaming. Fever dreams are pretty common in illnesses.” you counter.

Biting back at Satoru’s remarks was second nature to you, regardless of how lame the topic has to be. As if it’s like the very first time you both have met, setting foot into the relationship with little remarks. The spark that never extinguished in your conversations: of the banters that never goes amiss.

One of the constants in the ever changing wave of your relationship with Satoru. The relief from the turmoil the serious jujutsu world throws at you both.

“anything else, dr.google? the way you are forgetting things you did two seconds back, it’s you who needs to get checked. You were making the most googly eyes at me I’ve ever seen” you gasp, smacking his chest lightly, pulling away your hand from his grasp. 

“You’re gonna pass the sickness to me from your mouth, and for the record– I didn’t.” you  scoff in defiance, clutching your hand away from him. 

“Is this how you treat a sick person? I am wounded, baby,” mock hurt dripping from his words before he starts laughing. His laughter contagiously induces a chortle from you too. 

The sound fills the room to the brim as if you guys weren’t cross talking just a minute back. 

“That is so childish, why hide? Just accept you were being lovesick” Satoru adds. The laughter dies down a little and he’s back with his armor of words. 

“You’re so impossible, ‘Toru. how would you know whether I made googly eyes or not? Your eyes were closed.” 

“So you did make googly eyes, for you to be saying that? Such lame comeback. A bit underperforming. coming from you, don’t you think, baby?” he grins, tossing your own words back to you.

You narrow your eyes at him, fighting the urge to bite back your words, knowing the more you will drag it, Satoru will play along. 

“Sometimes I feel the only response is to strangle you. What happened to you feeling sick to the point of death? Isn’t it affecting you right now?” you scorn. playfully so.

“Talking to you is the way to my recovery, baby. Your words bring me back from sickness. feel my heart– it’s so alive” Satoru grins like he replied with the most appealing answer ever. 

He takes your hand, putting it over his chest. The murmurs of his heartbeat right underneath your palm. 

“Well that was repulsive and corny.” you wrinkle your nose. yet, planting your hands right where he kept it.

the feel of his sturdy chest and soft thuds of heart soothes you. He's insufferable but nothing would have you trade such fleeting moments with him.

“Doesn’t matter when I’m hot.” Satoru mutters, his face inches from yours as his nose nudges the side of your cheek. 

He’s not wrong but you’d be damned to accept that right now.

“We both know who’s bringing the hotness in this relationship.” you turn around and flick his forehead, getting up from the bed to bring him his medications. 

“Yes, it’s me. I am literally quite hot right now”

“Whatever floats your boat, babe", you chuckle. The sound of your laughter ebbing into the hallway as you walk out of the door and Satoru couldn’t feel any more healed. 

a.n.2-> if I'm being dead honest to y'all, I intended to make it angsty as fuck by turning the whole thing as a flashback reader has after gojo died 💀💀 but I will spare myself and others for this time.

comments, likes, reblogs are appreciated

tagging : @stsgluver , @kuroosexuall @shotorus + @satoruhour @hannzai + any of my gojo girlies im amnesiac baby i actually forgot yikes

[rosedom]

"you have invited AETHER to play . . . genshin "impact"

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!aether, (gentle) spanking, daddy kink, begging, gratuitous praide + pet names, aftercare .

A/N : haha get it . . . genshin impact . . . impact . . . spanking . . . anyway.

"is that correct, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to confirm."

Aether’s soft, in every sense of the word. 

“You're tickling me,” he mumbles, batting away at your hands. You only laugh, returning with a vengeance to palm at the soft fat of his thighs. “I told you—”

“Hush, honey,” you coo with a squeeze to his legs. Aether’s soft, but he’s strong, too, all limber muscle and sweet honey scent. 

He's butter in your hands—and he wants you to spank him. The good boy, the sun in the sky; and he wants to be spanked. 

“This isn't a punishment. You know that, right?” 

His smile turns syrupy, and he pushes himself up—as he was, before, laid astride your lap—and twists, a rather silly position that leaves him half-turned up and reaching up to cup at your cheeks. “I know,” he murmurs. “I—I just—” he averts his eyes.

“You what?” You press him back down lest he hurt his back too terribly; he goes easily, letting you maneuver his body however you see fit, malleable as anything. 

He reaches for a pillow, too, shoves it under his head where it lies atop his folded arms. “I—” he coughs and smothers the sound into his elbow. “I know,” he repeats.

You hum, quiet, and take to smoothing the palm of your hand over the swell of his ass. It's a testament to the trust, to his relaxation, really, that he doesn't so much as flinch. 

He continues with the gentle coaxing of your whispers, of your gentle petting, “I don’t want it hard.” 

“I know,” you echo. “And I won't do them in succession.” 

Minutely, he nods. “You’ll be gentle?” 

“I'll be gentle.”

“Okay.” He seems soothed by that. Body melting further into yours, he sighs and huffs, then he says, all whisper-soft, “I want you to show me that—” he hiccups, “—that I’m yours.” 

“Of course you're mine,” you murmur. You pet tight yet gentle circles across his ass, the skin pillow-soft beneath your palm. It's a contradiction, how he begged you so sweetly to spank him; but you suppose, now, seeing the way he’s limp across your lap, that you understand why.

He wants to feel owned, protected, by you—wants to know that not every touch is meant to mar, meant to scar. But you still ask, “Are you sure?” 

“I—please,” he says instead. Okay. 

“Alright, honey.” You lift your hands, much to his chagrin as he whines pitifully at the loss of your heat, but you quickly soothe his sounds as you thread a hand through his hair. He lets you lift him, making another sound—albeit one of confusion, this time—when you tap at his folded arms. “Gimme your hands?”

He nods within your hold, shuffling around ‘til (with your help) he gets his arms and hands readjusted: now, they rest behind him, wrists crossed at the small of his back. “Okay?” 

Testing your hold, he swallows, heavy. “Okay,” he whispers. You grin. 

“Good boy. Do you need another pillow?” 

He’s silent for a moment, contemplating, before he quietly says, “Yeah, please.” 

(It took him so long to feel safe enough to tell you what he needs. Your heart swells—just like his ass does, so tantalizingly plush so close to where you can touch.)

You smother another “Good boy” into his back before you straighten yourself out and grab the pillow next to you to slide under his head. He burrows his face into it before he turns it to the side, breathing hotly into the air next to him. 

He whispers, “Okay,” again once he is situated. He’s tucked the two pillows under his ear; you gently pull the hair he's got mushed beneath him out, running your fingers through the curled strands until the braid’s fully unraveled. 

“There we go,” you coo, softly chuckling at Aether’s own small giggles. Soon enough, he’s making grabby hands for you—gestures for you to reinstate the hold you had of his wrists. You take them in hand and squeeze, once, a tender thing, and relish yourself in the goosebumps you watch erupt over his arms. “Are you ready?” 

“I’ve been ready,” he huffs; you snort at his antics. 

If he's gonna play it like this, then you're gonna play dirty. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweet thing,” you murmur, pitching your voice down low and seductive, the drawl heavy across your tongue. “Has daddy been neglecting his good boy?” 

Holy hell, does that get a reaction out of your good boy. He gasps, loud, and he pulls at your hands like he's making to get away—presumably to cover his face. Like this, however, he's stuck, held down; and where it should be fear that crawls up his spine, it's only molten, liquid heat. He stutters out your name, but—

“Ah, ah,” you tut—not unkindly. You spread your fingers wide over the expanse of his right asscheek, thumb and pointer dipping just-so into the cleft of his ass. “What should you be callin’ me right now, honey?”

(For a boy so soft, so shy, it is obscene, the next words to fall from those pretty, pretty lips.)

“Daddy,” he cries out, “spank me, please, I asked so—so—” His words hitch off into a hiccup, those strong hands of his curling and uncurling as he grasps at nothing but thin air. You coo once more, sliding the hand you have wrapped around his wrists to instead intertwine between the fingers of each hand; he’s kept pinned, still, but now he can hold onto you. “Please, daddy!”

You hum, and you tack on another “Good boy,” just for safe measures. (Is it such a crime to want Aether to know this fact—to want to hammer it into his skull, spank it into his pretty lil’ ass? All ‘til he knows nothing but the sweet, subtle burn of his skin, the gentle petting of your palm against his blushing rear... 

Ah. You’re getting ahead of yourself.) 

You retract your palm—awfully slowly, if Aether were to say—, and you almost have half the mind to tease him about the way your thumb comes back barely slick from where it had brushed his cunt. Feeling merciful—or perhaps eager—, you forgo it; instead, you murmur, “Tell me when it’s too much.”

He has only the time to nod, once, before your hand is upon him.

Aether jerks in your lap—more-so at the suddenness of it rather than pain. (You’re not here to hurt him, tonight.) A light rouge springs up across his skin from where you spanked him, and he’s already squirming, making breathy pants into the pillow. 

“Good boy, Ae,” you murmur, petting across the swell of his ass before you’re bringing your hand up to do it again—this time, his left cheek. He doesn’t move as much this time, now anticipating the touch against him. “You’re taking my spankin’ so well.” 

A third time, and his fingers squeeze yours. 

Four, five, six; Aether’s squirming anew, and your hand comes down a seventh time before you stop, taking hold of his hip to still him. “Easy, honey, you’ve been so good for daddy so far.”

“I—” He looks up at you then, his golden eyes wide and brimming with tears. You take once more to cooing at him, letting go of his hips—yet keeping both his hands held in your one—to cup his cheek, wipe away the thick, dribbling tears. He nuzzles into your touch, and he fucking begs, “harder? Please, daddy, I—I want it harder, wanna—wanna feel it t’morrow.”

“Oh?” You grin, dipping down to bump your head against his before immediately straightening back out, immediately bringing that hand away from his face to land hard on his ruddy ass. He yelps, back arching and toes curling, and you are back to soothing his skin with gentle strokes of your palm. “It’s okay, honey, I’m only gonna give you what you can take.” When he looks like he’s about to refute—and, really, it’s a pathetic look on him, all teary-eyed and blushing and meak—, you tut, murmur, “and nothing more, okay? This isn’t a punishment.”

He nods, and he whispers, “Not a punishment.” 

“That’s daddy’s good boy.” As a reward, you swat at him harder, just like he asked. Each spank is still endearingly tender, hitting against his ass evenly and distributed in such a way that no one spot will hurt more (or less, now that you think about it) than another. 

Nine, ten, eleven, and by the twelfth Aether begins to bawl. 

“Daddy,” he sobs, arms beginning to tug against the snug grip of his hands, pulling desperately at your five fingers twisted through his ten. “Please—please, hold me. I want to hold you!”

His words hardly have the time to settle in the air around the two of you as you release him and tug him up, turning him around and bundling him into your arms. He whines when his sore, swollen ass touches your thighs; you can feel the heat of his skin burning a warm brand into the tops of your legs. 

“I've got you, daddy’s got you,” you soothe, hugging him while his arms come up to clutch desperately at your upper back. 

It's then that you feel something... sticky, smearing itself into the thigh Aether’s favoring, the solid weight of him concentrated across your one leg. “I've got you,” you repeat, wondering if the play is over, now.

But Aether whimpers out, “Daddy—” this real meak, quiet lil’ thing, and you know that you're not. You're done spanking him, but you've yet to melt his body in abject pleasure. 

“Okay, okay, daddy’s got you,” you repeat before you nudge a hand down, falling between your bodies to the thatch of blond curls between his own thighs. Petting at his wet cock makes him jerk, belly arching into your own. “Good boy, does it feel good? My sweet boy.”

“Feel so good,” he whimpers, hips humpin’ your gentle finger. You give him what he wants readily, letting him chase his pleasure on your hand ‘til you slip in two fingers—an easy stretch, both gone right to the hilt and your third knuckles—as he curls his body into you even further. “‘m so close.” 

Curling your fingers into his g-spot, you coo, “Already?” He nods vehemently into your throat, hands shaking where they clutch at you. “C’mon, then, cum for me, sweet thing. Cum for daddy.” 

Like his spanking, Aether's orgasm is an easy, gentle thing. 

It runs through his limbs syrupy slow; it starts at the epicenter, his small cunt, and spreads out across his body in a way that makes him melt into you.

And, God, his sounds. He makes these lil’ whimpers that he smothers into your skin, each one a hot gust against your throat. He's mumbling incoherently, too, quiet Daddy’s that get lost in his heavy breaths. 

Pitching your voice soft—soft as cotton and smooth as butter—, you coax him down from his high: one that he's already falling off from like waves against the shore. 

(If he was the ocean, his orgasm would be the tide: an expected thing, slow n’ steady that covers the sand in its blanket and retreats, leaves the beach uncovered and bare. 

The sand is exposed, vulnerable. Small shells washed ashore, clams and the likes out in the open without the water to hide them.

You find the beach at its most beautiful, like this: your Aether is no different.)

He finds the wherewithal to murmur, then, his voice still damnable meak—meak in a way that makes you want to protect your sweet boyfriend, your heart all twisted in knots at the trust he gives you—, “th’nk you, daddy.” The way he says daddy, though, is what makes you laugh softly, kiss at his forehead.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you say. You’ve got your fingers already slid out from the grip of his swollen cunt—swelled up in arousal, in the rush of blood from his orgasms: not so different from the ruddy swell of his ass, reddened by the spanking—, soothing his lil’ mewl at the loss of being filled (even just slightly.

After all, it was only two fingers you had pressed into him, unraveled him with.) “Up you go, c’mon,” you tack on: rhetorically, of course, because you’re wholly in control of his lax body. “Let's get you cleaned up, hm?” 

He nods minutely into your chest, curled up in your arms akin to a small kitten. He’d purr if he could, wrapped up with you, pressing littering kisses across your collarbones. 

Into the bath he goes, too, the tide left to lap up at his body as you set him in. He whines when you part from him—a sound you soothe with a promise of, “I’ll be right back, honey.” 

That right back is only a minute’s time, if that—enough to set aside a soft, fluffy towel and grab Aether’s favorite soaps—, but you return to see him with his head perched above crossed arms, pouting up at you from the lip of the tub. 

Laughing lightly, you poke at his nose with the bottle you hold, the glass cold against his still-blushing skin. His face scrunches up, but he doesn't move away; he's still floating, all sex-drunk (finger-drunk? He didn't take cock, tonight) and content. 

You place your other hand on his shoulder, kindly pushing him back with a whisper of, “Scooch.” 

The water of the bath sloshes when you get in—some of it surely falling back the tub's lip and splattering on the ground—, but you make no move to clean it yet as Aether immediately falls back into the spread of your legs, his back a warm brand to your chest. 

In the end, it's a lazy bath. You tenderly run a cloth between his thighs, kiss at his temples when he quietly whimpers at the oversensitivity; and, after it's all said and done, he's wrapped in that fluffy towel, dozing off in your arms right there on the ensuite's floor.

Daddy's here; and he's staying here. 

nnnnn pretty boys who wanna call me daddy <33

17 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

[shogunish]

𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀.

synopsis. “you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

contents. a bit of angst, comfort, miscommunication/lack of communication, implied friends-to-lovers, soft! satoru, takes place after the star plasma vessel incident, satoru's trauma response, unedited, something i whipped up on a whim lmao

wc. 1.3k

note. had a sudden urge to write this when i watched dazai edits and i hope i'll find more inspiration to write like..i just wanna be consistent for once 🥲

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

the inverted spear of heaven was no more.

the star plasma vessel incident — mainly toji fushiguro — had carved its mark into satoru’s flesh. after satoru had killed the man, he had made sure to destroy the cursed tool until not even ashes remained of the sharp blade that used to spill the blood of innocents.

it was almost like the sorcerer wanted to destroy the things that could destroy him.

however, he failed to notice how he had almost destroyed his relationship with you, too.

no longer did satoru wrap you up in his bear hugs. no longer did he let you rest your head on his shoulder on movie night. no longer were you welcome in his space.

always were you kept at an arm’s length. satoru was close enough to admire but so far out of reach like the constellation of stars dotting the night sky. what you thought was no more than a phase turned out to be so much more until, in the safety of your bedroom and underneath your blankets, your vision blurred with tears.

if the sun wasn't there, the moon would remain hidden in the vast void of space. and without satoru, you couldn't shine, either. in fact, your smile dimmed until it was almost extinguished by the pain satoru put you through — but it wasn’t his fault. or so you'd like to tell yourself.

satoru had danced with death when he was meant to only protect a girl.

you couldn't possibly blame him.

after all, you could neutralize the only thing that kept him safe.

the ability to nullify any cursed technique upon touch was as convenient as it was, literally, cursed. with zero offensive abilities, you always relied on satoru or suguru to cover for you in case your plans didn't work out. one miscalculation and your head would roll — that much you knew.

among every student attending jujutsu high, you were the weakest while satoru was the strongest.

it was enough to tie your fate to satoru, weaving a web of complicated feelings which usually tasted like those sugary gummy bears the sorcerer carried with him. it was sweet and warm like his embrace, but the blade of toji fushiguro had effortlessly cut through the fine webs. nothing but a cold void remained where laughter and silly inside jokes about digimon danced along the velvety threads.

almost like a black hole that swallowed the constellation in the skies, leaving behind broken galaxies and lonely stars that swallowed moons to fill the loss of their companions.

“he's so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, threw the teddy bear in your arms into the corner of your bed and sat up to blow your nose.

the teddy bear was a polar bear adorned with button eyes and a red bow tied around its fluffy neck. it looks like you, you had mindlessly said during last year's summer festival. satoru had spent the entire evening shooting little rubber ducks to earn enough points to win the silly bear, but it was worth it for your eyes lit up like the fireworks that followed soon after.

the clock read two am when you poured boiling hot water into a cup of instant ramen, ripped open the package of spice and stirred the meal with disinterest written all over your face. not even the scent of cheap cup noodles made your tummy growl anymore. how could it when it was so full of dread, guilt and worry for the sorcerer who stole your heart and refused to give it back? it was an unfair bargain, really.

just a moment later, you heard a knock on your door. you considered ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but alas, the lights were on and likely snuck through underneath the crack of the door to your dorm. what kind of idiot knocked on your door at two am?

satoru — the only idiot who'd knock on your door in the middle of the night and look like a kicked puppy.

“satoru? it's two am..,” you spoke first, standing between him and the warmth of your dorm.

satoru didn't look like satoru. even through the pitch black glasses of his shades could you see the storm brewing in those sky-blues of his. with a sigh, he rubbed his neck. “why does everyone keep telling me how late it is? ah, no matter.”

you wanted to ask, but decided against it.

“look, i know it's late, but i can't help but think you've been avoiding me for the last couple of what? weeks? months?” satoru shifted his weight from one fuzzy slipper to the other. “was it something i said?”

in that very moment, you realized you were doing the same things as he was. as soon as class was over, you'd go home alone. you'd have lunch alone. you'd spend your weekends alone. all those things once were shared with satoru in your space, but as soon as he avoided you..you avoided him, too out of fear of getting hurt.

“satoru..don't you realize that you've been avoiding me first?” your voice was quiet as you hugged your middle. “ever since the incident and the destruction of that cursed tool, you always kept me at arm's length. you no longer let me get any closer nor do you spar with me anymore. nothing..”

“you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

a painful epiphany coiled in satoru's stomach like a snake. was he so busy destroying the devil's tools and refining his technique that he..forgot about about you? the person who'd steal his fries and snore on his shoulder on movie night? no, no way. he would never see you as a threat even though your touch could dissolve his infinity like sugar when it touched water.

“[name], that's not..” the words got stuck in his throat. for the first time in his life, he was speechless. “you are anything but a threat.”

“then why..” tears brimmed your eyes until they overflowed, ran down the apples of your cheeks and met the warmth of satoru’s thumb. it was not his stupid infinity wiping the tears away, but satoru himself.

to be touched by satoru felt like the first sunrays of spring gracing your skin. warm, familiar and hinting at the end of a long, unforgiving winter that had taken root in your belly. soft sobs bubbled in the back of your throat, rocking your shoulders and interrupting every word you wanted to say; how stupid he was, how much you missed him, how much you needed him.

“shh..say no more,” satoru whispered and took you in his strong arms so you could sob into his chest all you wanted.

satoru didn't care about the tears or snot wetting his shirt. all that mattered was the feeling of you in his arms, and even though it pained him to know that he caused those tears, this was better than receiving your cold shoulder and dismissive smiles.

quietly, you and satoru went back inside the warmth of your dorm where both of you shared some cheap cup ramen which satoru spiced up with some peppers, egg and a conversation which neither of you would remember in the morning to come. no amount of time seemed to have passed between you as you both laughed, bickered and exchanged glances like lovers-to-be would.

“what are you doing?,” you asked, long comfortable underneath the sheets of your bed — or you would be if satoru didn't hold them up and almost looked offended by your words.

“sleeping with you, duh,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world and maybe it was.

ignoring your protests and pouts, satoru crammed himself into bed with you, one arm around your waist and the other one underneath your head. his broad chest gently pressed against your back, his warmth enveloped you like a blanket.

“you're stupid,” you smiled to yourself while a blush as red as roses crept up your cheeks.

“and you're lucky i love you,” satoru grumbled underneath his breath, blowing some strands of your hair away from his nose and mouth so he wouldn't suffocate while holding you so tight.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon

[carlplsrailme]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

summary: getting caught kissing rick grimes son, by rick grimes is probably the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you.

Carl Grimes x Fem!Reader

wc: 600

request: can you write something like carl and reader getting caught making out ITS BEEN ON MY MIND ALL DAU😭🙏🏾

cw: kissing, getting caught.

The heat was prominent as you stood crossed armed in the middle of Alexandria's walls. The summer warmth collecting on your skin, nipping at your cheeks and nose while your warn out white tank and blue jeans didn't help your situation.

you watched as people ate their lunch and moved on, not hungry yourself. 

"I'd expect you to be down there eating by now, it's your favorite" you looked to the side to see Carl, long brown hair sitting on his shoulders as his smile, ah, more of a smirk held upbeat on his lips.

"yeah, well, not really in the mood right now..I'll have some later" you smiled, turning back as Carl laid his back on the wall as well

"ya'know, watching people eat isn't really that great of a hobby" he pried, you rolled your eyes as he pushed and pushed before you asked him what he really wanted

"I have new comic books, new ones we can read together!" he grinned like a little boy, you scoffed as you wore a smile back at him.

"you could've just led with that"

.

now, you sat crossed-legged on his bed. he tossed around his desk, talking to you about the new comics and all, you listened intently as he twirled around with a...gift in his hand?

pink paper wrapped a book-shaped figure with a thread tying into a bow. your furrowed brows were enough for him to realize how oblivious you were

"uh..this is for you.." he suddenly became shy, cheeks red and it wasn't from the suns rays coming from the window

"for me? why?" 

"ugh, just take it..it's a...present for you" you grabbed it and started to tear the paper off, slowly peeling away to see a book cover that was all too familiar

"oh my goodness, Carl! holy shit you really got it!" you squealed as you see the "1" on the cover, the book you've been trying to get for the longest time as you only had the other ones... except for the first one of course.

"yeah, well, I was on a run and uhm..it was just...there" yeah, it wasn't just there. he had to kill a small herd of walkers that were in the store just because he saw a glimpse of it through the window..but...he'd never tell you that

"that's amazing! thank you!" you kicked your feet liked a little girl as Carl became flustered at the pure sight of your happiness, something he doesn't get to see often

you ran up and gave him a hug, pulling away to look him in the eye, emotions getting the best of you as you contemplate finally acting on your feelings...and...you do.

you lean in and finally. fucking finally kiss him. his soft lips you've always looked at sucked into yours as your both held each other tight, soon you both found yourselves on the bed, with you on his lap, nothing sexual, just loveness and pureness.

you held his face as he held your waist, your head twisting as you attempt to kiss him even deeper, and then..

"Carl, you never-" Rick opened the door up, and with raw fear you tumbled off him and Rick watched with nothing but shock

"Dad!"

"Oh..Oh...um..my bad" he walked back before closing the door, and then opening it just an inch before running down the stairs, you felt hot but not in the way before, hot with embarrassment

"I-I'm so sorry" Carl stuttered, upset and embarrassed that that was how your first kiss went

you burst out laughing as you tried to put yourself together, Carl joined you in a couple of seconds, your laugh too intoxicating not to. 

so maybe not the best first kiss, but certainly one to remember..

oh and, Rick gave the...talk right after to a very shameful Carl

an: hiii guys! i haven't wrote fluff in a while <3 had kinda a bad day so this was really nice for me to write...ilysm! ♡

[cowboyheyxu]

modern!au

"you know, after i watched paddington, i'm fully convinced animals can talk. you know⎯like in toy story. but they're hiding it from us," you rambled, tapping your finger on your chin like you were in deep thought.

alhaitham flipped over on his stomach, shoving his face into his pillow, "please, go to sleep." his voice is muffled as he pleads, which prompts you to go on.

"and another thing," you continue, "does a straw have two holes? or just one? but there has to be two, right? since there are two holes in a straw."

alhaitham turns around, laying on his side as he listens to you, "you do realize you just answered your own question, right?" he mocks you.

you roll your eyes in return, threading your hands through his hair and ruffling it as revenge. you pretend not to hear him sigh out of content, "yeah. but like⎯if it has two holes, why do we only drink out of one?"

this time, alhaitham does not sigh. he groans, "it's getting too late for these kinds of questions."

you raise your eyebrows, a grin slowly appearing on your face, "oh? so i've finally frustrated the curiosity out of you,'" your sentence turned into laughter at the end.

"you have not," alhaitham countered.

"i think i have," you brush your thumb over alhaitham's eyebrow. he held your hand over his eyebrow and rubbed his thumb over it. he takes your silence as a sign that you are succumbing to exhaustion and you are finally about to fall asleep. but he was wrong.

"i just have one more question," you blurted out.

"only one?" he looked up at you with sleepy eyes. the sight made you want to giggle. alhaitham looks vulnerable. he looks adorable, you think.

"only one," you reaffirm, and rub your thumb across his eyebrow once more, "do you think we're together in every universe?"

the question caught him off guard. you never asked questions like these. most of the time, your questions range from shower thoughts to absurdities. but something seemed more intimate about this one.

alhaitham does not know if you two would be together in every universe. the universe is vast and unpredictable. there are endless possibilities and endless outcomes. it would be impossible for you two to be together in every universe.

that being said, he hopes that you two are together in most of them. alhaitham⎯though he holds disdain at your questions⎯could not imagine a life without them. he simply could not think of a world where he doesn't listen to the sound of your voice every night. he could not visualize a world where he wouldn't be a recipient of your love and your warmth.

to envision a world without you in it is like envisioning a world without it's sun. the world would be shrouded in darkness, without a single bit of light. there would be no warmth, and everything would have froze to death and died.

he looks at you while he thinks about his answer. if he had to wake up every day, and your face wasn't the first thing he saw, alhaitham knew he'd be miserable. he spends at least ten minutes of his morning admiring you. without you, what would he do?

there would be no one to brush his teeth with. there would be no one to eat dinner with. there would be no one to talk to in the middle of the night. life truly seems empty there. he pities all the other alhaithams in the vast universe that have to live without you. it must be horrific, living like that.

so, he makes sure to make this universe count.

"c'mere," he pulls you down to lay with him. you're on your side now as alhaitham pulls you closer, "i'll tell you my answer."

your eyes perk up, having been anticipating his answer the past few minutes. would he disagree or agree? does he think you two would last over different dimensions?

"really? because i think that we'll⎯" alhaitham cuts you off by placing his hand on your jawline and pressing his lips onto yours. it's slow, soft, and quite sensual. his other hand travels down to your hip, slowly rubbing circles on the bone as he continues to kiss you. you don't seem to mind or pull away, as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back.

your legs are intertwined with alhaitham's as you pull away. suddenly, you feel a lot tired than you did a few minutes ago. was this alhaitham's plan all along? did he just try to kiss you into exhaustion? whatever just happened, it would not work. you will get your answer.

you lean on his chest for one minute, and then you fall asleep.

alhaitham didn't intend for that to happen. it was just a small bonus. what he really wanted to do, was to appreciate what he had in front of him. to not take you for granted. he considers how lucky he is: he is here, in bed with you, and he gets to listen to you ramble. he is privileged enough to hear the sound of your voice, your laughter, your thoughts. he just wanted to show that off.

but now, you're entangled in his limbs, dozing off peacefully as you relax into his chest. you'll harass him more about his answer later, but for now, he only mumbles it to you.

"i hope we are together in every universe."

[xuchiya]

vampire! seonghwa au

request are open !!!

imagining how seonghwa would lock your arms behind you with one arm while the other around your chest as his pace hasten each time his cock presses abusively on your g-spot, you wailing at the over bearing bliss, "faster please ..."

"do you want me to go faster?" he whispers, you nodded shameless as you cry for him to go faster, "... harder ~hwa."

a low, feral sound rumbled in seonghwa's chest, an intense amount of lust stormed, brewing behind his crimson eyes. the last thread of his patience snapped, replaced by a dark chuckle that echoed through his fire-lit chambers, "did i hear that right?"

"yes seonghwa fuck me harder please!" your arms were free thinking you would be able to prop yourself on your arms but that moment was short as you felt yourself being pushed down on the plushed sheets, his hands clutching your hips , adjusting himself between your spread legs, his warm breath next to your ear, "you ask for it."

seonghwa's hips snapped harder each cry of 'plea' leaves your lips. seonghwa had his hips pounding to your pussy, ass clapping each time his hips thrusted, "s-shit... this pussy is mine."

seonghwa knows your body well that he repeatedly pounding to your g-spot, your screams were muffled on the sheets, manicured gripping tightly on the pillows even on his wrist. broken groan in his throat as he feel his climax reaching him.

you were completely destroyed, scattered with his fang bites, hickeys from your shoulders, down to your chest. he loves ruining you every night.

"i'm gonna cum on this pussy and you'll take every drop of them, yeah" you nodded, tears of pleasure runs down on your redden cheeks, "yes yes yes ... yes fu-fuck!"

he pulled you up halfway by your elbows, as his thrust becoming sloppy until he groans loudly, "that's it ... !" emptying himself deep inside you. when he successfully loads his cum inside, he loosens his grip on your elbow, letting you softly drop on his bed and pulls out, watching his cum drips but seonghwa plunge his fingers inside your pussy.

he looks at your squirming figure desperately trying to remove his hands but his strength has nothing on you as he effortlessly grip them as three of his fingers were buried deep inside.

"take it like a good cumslut you are." you were overstimulated with the amount of orgasm seonghwa has given you since the sun sets.

"i'm gonna cu-cum ... fuck seonghwa i'm cumming!" your hips shifts desperately on his fingers as you made yourself squirt your juices, long vocal of 'fuck' left your lips. you sigh contentedly, your hips staying still, finally thinking of resting but you're dead wrong.

"you really think i'm done? baby, we got all night ... i'll fill you up til' morning rise."

yep, you're completely dead wrong.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can I please request a Jeremiah x reader smut where it’s both of their first times! Smut but also cute and fluffy! Thank you ♥️

This is my first time writing for Jeremiah, please be nice. While I like him in the show - I am not team Jeremiah though -, I find him difficult to write about, so idk if I'll keep him on my list...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When it comes to losing your virginity, you've always wanted to wait for the right moment to do it. Maybe it was watching rom-coms and reading hundreds of romances that implanted this vision in your mind, or maybe it was just you wanting to make that big moment perfect, knowing you could never re-do it if you jinxed it…or worse, regret it.

‘’I have not,’’ Belly confessed quietly, shaking her head. ‘’Cam and I went on our third date. It’s way too early.’’ She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, not exactly comfortable talking about sex but feeling comfortable enough to talk about it with you. ‘’Have you and Jere..?’’

‘’No,’’ you said, excluding the other things you and Jeremiah had done that weren’t full-on penetrative sex. ‘’But we are thinking about it.’’

Belly’s attention snapped up. ‘’Oh?’’

You nodded, a light flush tinted your cheeks.

‘’Are you nervous?’’

You nodded again.

So many things could go wrong even if you make sure everything is perfect. You also heard some girls say it hurt the first time and that they bled, which scared you a little.

Belly grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘’I may not know anything about sex, but what I know is that it’s Jeremiah. He loves you. There’s nothing to be nervous about,’’ she assured you.

A few weeks later, the day finally came.

Your mom was out at her book club meeting and your dad was at the country club, leaving the house to yourself for a few hours. Taking advantage of their absence, you texted Jeremiah to come over…and to bring the condoms.

It was bold and definitely had him grinning on his couch at home before making up an excuse to ditch Steven at video games and shower and get ready for the big event.

While Jeremiah was getting ready, you did the same. You put on matching bra and underwear, gave your hair an extra brush and spritzed yourself with Jeremiah’s favorite perfume of yours, lit some candles for ambiance although it was burning hot outside. You made sure everything was perfect.

Except it wasn’t perfect. 

Right when Jeremiah unhooked your bra, his phone started blaring loudly and wouldn't stop. After the fifth ring, Jeremiah answered and left, needing to pick up his mother at the country club. He said he could come back after, but the moment was already ruined.

By some miracle, you were presented another perfect opportunity a few days later.

Susannah was out with Belly and Laurel for a debutante dress fitting, Conrad was at the beach surfing, and Steven was with Shayla.

You and Jeremiah were having a swim in his pool to cool down from the sun. Summer was beautiful, but the heat was too much sometimes. Thankfully, Jeremiah had a nice pool, which you loved to take advantage of. As always, playful splashing turned into kissing and soon enough, you were making out.

You moved things upstairs to Jeremiah’s room for more privacy, and also because didn’t want your first time to be in a pool or on the Fisher’ back porch. 

‘’Careful!’’ Jeremiah reminded as the two of you hurried upstairs, leaving water all over the floors despite being wrapped in a towel. ‘’The floors are slippery when we—’’ 

You caught his arm in time before he could slip and fall, sending the two of you in a fit of laughter. The fun was interrupted when he backed you against the wall and kissed you in the hallway. You melted against him and let your towel drop. 

Jeremiah brought you to his bed, not caring about the wet patched your wet baiting suits would leave behind. It's not like you were going to keep them on for very long. 

Hands were all over each other's body, exploring and grabbing while you were kissing with desire. You undid the ties of your bikini, chucking it on the floor, then moved to your bottoms. Your whole body was on fire under Jeremiah's touch — you needed it all off. 

You reached for Jeremiah's shorts, helping him out because it was harder to take off when wet...and horny, but that's when Steven decided to walk in like he owned the place, catching sight of Jeremiah's bare ass. 

For the rest of the summer, you weren't able to find a good moment. Jeremiah was either working at the country club's pool, or someone was home. You could have snuck to an empty bedroom at a party, but a stranger's bedroom was nothing romantic for a first time. 

You were starting to get impatient so, one night he was supposed to drive you home, you made him pull over and stop the car. It was dumb and had high risks of getting caught, but you didn't care. 

‘’Are you sure?'' Jeremiah asked, seeing you pull your dress over your head. ''We don’t have to if you don’t.’’

You shook your head, looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. ‘’You’re my best friend, Jere. I want it to be you. I want it to be now.’’ 

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

[songbirdseung]

hold your peace / lee heeseung

synopsis: watching the one you love being wedded to someone else.

pairing: ex-lovers heeseung and reader

warning: sadness and then sadness and then more sadness, fluff at the end, i promise.

wc: 2k

In the heart of a quaint town nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering trees stood a venerable old church, its weathered stones bearing the weight of centuries of prayers and whispered confessions. Within its hallowed halls, amidst the flickering candlelight and the solemn hymns, YN found herself seated in one of the wooden pews, her gaze fixed upon the altar where Heeseung, her once-beloved, stood exchanging vows with another.

The echoes of memories danced around her, haunting whispers of a love that once bloomed like the roses in the churchyard, now withered and forgotten. YN's heart ached as she watched Heeseung, his eyes alight with joy as he clasped hands with his bride. How she longed to be the one standing by his side, to feel his touch, to hear his voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the quiet park where Heeseung and YN sat side by side on a weathered bench, their laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. They were just teenagers then, their hearts as untamed as the wind that swept through the trees, yet already they knew that their bond was something rare and precious. Heeseung's hand brushed against YN's as they shared stolen glances beneath the fading light, his gaze soft and earnest as he spoke. "You know, YN, I've been thinking…" "What is it, Heeseung?" YN asked, turning to face him with a curious smile playing upon her lips. "I think… I think we're meant to be each other's end games," Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to speak the words aloud. YN's heart skipped a beat at his words, her breath catching in her throat. "End games?" Heeseung nodded, his eyes shining with a determination that belied his tender age. "Yeah, you know, like in those movies we watch. The ones where the two people are meant to be together no matter what happens. That's us, YN. We're each other's end games." A soft smile tugged at YN's lips as she reached out to take Heeseung's hand in hers, their fingers intertwining like vines in a hidden garden. "I like the sound of that, Heeseung. You and me, against the world." Heeseung's grin widened at her words, his heart swelling with a love so fierce it threatened to consume him whole. "And YN, one day… one day, I'm going to marry you. I promise." YN's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against Heeseung's ear. "I'll hold you to that, Heeseung. I'll hold you to that." And in that fleeting moment, beneath the fading light of the setting sun, Heeseung and YN made a vow to each other that would echo through the corridors of time. For they knew that their love was not bound by the constraints of reality but rather by the unyielding force of destiny, guiding them ever closer to their shared end game of forever.

But fate had other plans, tearing them apart like pages ripped from a cherished book. YN's mind wandered back to the days when they first met, a chance encounter in the bustling streets of the town square. Heeseung had been a beacon of light in her dark world, his smile a balm to her wounded soul. They had shared dreams and secrets beneath the stars, promising each other forever in whispered vows of love.

Yet, as swiftly as the seasons changed, so too did their love unravel. Distance and time became their adversaries, tearing at the fragile threads that bound them together. And despite their desperate attempts to cling to what they once had, the inevitable tide of life swept them apart, leaving YN adrift in a sea of loneliness and regret.

Now, as she sat in the quiet sanctuary of the church, YN couldn't help but wonder what could have been. Would they have found their way back to each other if circumstances had been different? Or was their love nothing more than a fleeting moment in the tapestry of time?

As Heeseung stood at the altar, his heart pounding in his chest, his eyes scanned the crowded church until they landed on YN, sitting amidst the congregation. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as he gazed at her, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't expected to see her there, a haunting reminder of the past he had tried so hard to forget.

A wave of sadness washed over Heeseung as he realized that YN was not meant to be a guest at this wedding but rather the bride by his side. His mother's fondness for YN had prompted the invitation, a gesture of kindness that now felt like a cruel twist of fate.

Heeseung's gaze lingered on YN, his mind drifting back to the days when they had dreamed of a future together, promising each other forever beneath the stars. How different things might have been if they had stayed true to those vows, if he had been brave enough to defy the odds and follow his heart.

But now, as he stood on the precipice of a new beginning, Heeseung knew that he had to let go of the past and embrace the future that lay before him. With a heavy sigh, he tore his gaze away from YN and forced himself to focus on the ceremony unfolding before him.

Just as he began to regain his composure, the priest cleared his throat, drawing Heeseung's attention back to the present. He offered a sheepish apology, blaming his momentary lapse in concentration on nerves.

The priest chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Ah, young love. It has a way of making even the bravest among us tremble with fear. But fear not, my son. For love conquers all, even nerves on a wedding day."

Heeseung managed a weak smile in response, grateful for the priest's lighthearted jest. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just witnessed a glimpse of the life he could have had with YN, a life that now existed only in the shadows of his memories. YN's heart clenched at the sight, tears shimmering in her eyes like pearls in the morning dew. She knew then that she had lost him forever, condemned to forever be a silent observer in the theater of his life.

As the ceremony continued, YN found herself overcome with a flood of emotions, tears welling up in her eyes like raindrops on a stormy night. She tried to blink them away, to hide the ache in her heart behind a veil of smiles, but the weight of her unspoken sorrow threatened to consume her.

To those around her, it seemed as though YN was shedding tears of joy, her emotions overflowing at the sight of her dear friend finding happiness. But Heeseung's mother, seated beside her, knew the truth behind those glistening tears. With a gentle understanding born of a mother's intuition, she reached out and pulled YN into a tender side hug, offering silent comfort in her time of need.

YN leaned into the embrace, grateful for the warmth and compassion of Heeseung's mother. In that moment, she felt a sense of solace amidst the turmoil of her emotions, knowing that she was not alone in her silent grief.

Across the aisle, Heeseung couldn't help but steal a glance at YN, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. He longed to reach out to her, to wipe away her tears and whisper words of reassurance, but he knew that he had no right to intrude upon her pain.

While Heeseung's heart was torn between the past and the present, his bride, unaware of the turmoil within him, cast a sidelong glance in his direction, her brow furrowed with concern. She had noticed his momentary lapse in focus, his gaze lingering on someone in the crowd, and it stirred a flicker of annoyance within her.

As the ceremony progressed, she leaned in close to Heeseung, her voice a hushed whisper against his ear. "Is everything alright, Heeseung? You seem distracted."

Heeseung forced a smile, his mind still lingering on YN and the memories they had shared. "I'm fine. Just lost in the moment, that's all."

As the priest's solemn voice echoed through the hallowed halls of the church, announcing the pivotal moment in the ceremony, a heavy silence descended upon the congregation.

Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

All eyes turned towards the altar, anticipation hanging thick in the air like the scent of incense. Heeseung's heart pounded in his chest as he glanced back and forth between YN and his bride, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. In that fleeting moment, he felt the weight of a thousand regrets pressing down upon him, each one urging him to speak the words that had been left unspoken for far too long.

Just as the priest was about to continue, his lips parting to recite the sacred vows that would bind Heeseung and his bride together for eternity, Heeseung's voice rang out, clear and resolute in the silence.

"I… I have something to say."

The congregation held its breath as Heeseung took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat. His eyes locked with YN's, a silent plea lingering in their depths, begging for understanding.

"I… I cannot continue with this marriage," Heeseung declared, his voice trembling with emotion. "I cannot pledge my life to someone when my heart belongs to another."

Gasps of shock rippled through the church as Heeseung's confession hung in the air like a heavy fog. His bride's eyes widened in disbelief, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of stunned silence.

But amidst the chaos, amidst the whispers and the murmurs of disbelief, YN remained perfectly still, her gaze locked with Heeseung's, a single tear shimmering in the corner of her eye.

For in that moment, she knew that the love they had shared had never truly died, that the bond between them was stronger than the vows spoken in haste and the promises made in vain. And as Heeseung stepped down from the altar and made his way towards her, his heart laid bare for all to see, YN reached out and took his hand in hers, silently promising to stand by his side through whatever trials lay ahead.

As Heeseung's supposed bride's voice rose in a crescendo of anger and disbelief, her words cutting through the air like a knife, Heeseung's family remained steadfast in their support. His parents, sibling, and relatives stood by his side, their expressions a mixture of determination and defiance in the face of opposition.

Heeseung's supposed father-in-law joined the chorus of protests, his voice booming with indignation as he demanded an explanation for this sudden betrayal. But Heeseung's family remained unmoved, their loyalty unwavering as they stood united in their belief that love should never be sacrificed on the altar of convention.

"You can't do this, Heeseung! You made a commitment to me!" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion as she struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

Heeseung's supposed father-in-law joined in the fray, his face flushed with rage as he pointed an accusatory finger at Heeseung. "You're making a grave mistake, boy! You'll regret this for the rest of your life!"

But amidst the cacophony of voices, Heeseung remained steadfast, his gaze fixed upon YN, his heart unyielding in its resolve. As he reached her side, he took her hand in his, his touch gentle yet firm.

"I'm sorry, YN," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to face her. "I couldn't go through with it. Not when my heart belongs to you."

YN's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked up at Heeseung, her heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude. "I understand, Heeseung. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Amidst the chaos, Heeseung's mother stepped forward, her voice calm yet firm as she addressed the gathering. "Love cannot be forced, nor can it be contained within the confines of tradition. Our son has made his choice, and we stand by him, regardless of the consequences."

Heeseung's father nodded in agreement, his gaze steady as he met the accusing stares of those who questioned their decision. "We raised our son to follow his heart, to be true to himself above all else. And if his heart leads him to YN, then so be it."

Heeseung's supposed bride's protests faltered in the face of such unwavering conviction. With a final glare directed at Heeseung and YN, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the church, her dreams of a fairytale wedding shattered by the harsh reality of love's unpredictable whims.

As the dust settled and the echoes of the confrontation faded away, Heeseung stood beside YN, his hand clasped tightly in hers, a sense of peace washing over him like a gentle breeze. For in that moment, surrounded by the love and support of his family, he knew that he had made the right choice, that true love was worth any sacrifice, no matter how great.

And as they walked out of the church together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, Heeseung and YN knew that their love was a force to be reckoned with, a bond that could withstand even the harshest storms. For in the end, love always finds a way, lighting the path towards a future filled with hope, promise, and the sweetest kind of redemption.

For sometimes, love is not measured by the grand gestures or the elaborate ceremonies, but by the courage to speak the truth and follow the heart's deepest desires, no matter the cost. And in the quiet sanctuary of the church, amidst the echoes of a love that refused to be silenced, Heeseung and YN found their own happily ever after, bound together by the timeless threads of fate and the unyielding power of true love.

As the dust settled and the echoes of the confrontation faded away, Heeseung and YN found themselves standing outside the church, the cool breeze of the evening wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. They turned to each other, their eyes locking in a silent exchange of understanding and gratitude.

Heeseung was the first to speak, his voice filled with emotion as he reached out to cup YN's cheek tenderly. "You remember what I told you, right? That I'd marry you and only you."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of YN's lips as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with affection. "Yeah, I remember. You almost did, didn't you?"

Heeseung's expression softened as he shook his head, his eyes glistening with sincerity. "It wasn't by choice, YN. You know that. I never wanted to hurt you."

YN reached out and took Heeseung's hand in hers, squeezing it gently as she met his gaze with unwavering understanding. "I know, Heeseung. And I'm not blaming you. Sometimes life just has a way of throwing us curveballs."

Heeseung nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized that YN harbored no ill will towards him. "I'm just glad you're here, YN. With me."

YN's smile widened as she leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to Heeseung's lips. "Me too, Heeseung. Me too."

And as they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, Heeseung and YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, hand in hand, united in their love and their unwavering commitment to each other. For in the end, their bond was stronger than any obstacle, a beacon of hope and resilience in a world filled with uncertainty.

[irishmammonagenda]

Boop!- Obey Me x Reader

Summary: You go on a mission to boop, as per usual chaos ensues. Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Female Reader (implied), i dont really think there's anything else but if you can see something lmk and i'll add a warning

very obviously inspired by tumblr's boop event

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Hello Michael!" You greet, signature foxy grin on your face. Michael looks up from where he's playing Connect Four with a man in robes and waves at you.

"Hiya MC!" He puts the palms of his hands on the soft cloud ground and leans back on them, he's bare chested in the heat, though he's adorned himself with waist beads and arm bands, firm muscles on display. His long curly blond hair is in intricate braids, small ornaments threaded through it. He grins up at you, bright red eyes shining under the light of the Celestial sun. "What's brought ya up to the Celestial Realm today?"

"I am evil. I am very evil Michael." You say seriously.

The other man laughs, though not unkindly. His tanned skin shimmers ethereally under the light, dark brown eyes stare up at you, rich like soil after the morning due. Dark waves and soft curls frame his face, some soft stubble one his jawline, barely noticeable. "I'm sure you're not evil." He says kindly.

You stare at him, before smiling as well, touched. "Aww thanks! And you are?"

The man smiles, reaching his hand up, Michael takes that time to sneakily move one of the coins the man had put down a slot over. "I'm Jesus, it's nice to meet you MC."

You cough. "You're Jesus?"

"Yes." He nods, "A lot of people are shocked when they first meet me...something about expecting me to look like Da Vinci's gay lover."

You nod, dumbfounded.

Michael, sensing your inner turmoil, and also needing to keep Jesus' attention elsewhere so he could continue cheating- winning creatively in Connect 4, clears his throat, "So what's brought you to the Celestial Realm and made you claim that you're evil?"

This makes you grin, "Well, my dearest Michael....have you heard of boops?"

Michael straightens up a little bit, Jesus watches him intently, before fixing the board to its original state whilst the Archangel is distracted.

"No I have not...Why, what are they?" Michael asks, signature mischievous grin on his face. "They sound fun."

"Well I'm glad you asked Michael!" You grin, before leaning in and whispering into his ear. The added proximity made you realise he smelt of pine cone and fresh rain.

Michael giggles evilly, turning over to Jesus, before reaching a dark, jewel adorned hand and booping his nose. "Boop!"

Jesus just smiles, Crucifixion was worse. "It's your go, Michael."

"Oh of course! MC wait for this game to be over! I have...uh..business to attend to in the Devildom!"

You and Jesus share a look.

Michael looks over at you two, "You coming Jesus?"

The man smiles gently, "No thanks, I'm still traumatised from that one time when Satan tormented me in the desert."

"Oh okay...." Michael deflates the tiniest smidge before looking back at the board, spluttering. "Hey you moved the pieces!"

Jesus snorts, "Yeah, I moved the pieces back from where you tried to cheat."

"Lying's a sin." Michael huffs.

Jesus laughs, "Was that an admition of guilt?"

Michael falls onto his back dramatically, dark skin shining in the Celestial Realm's blessed light. "Ugh! Woe is me! This is worse than the time that one Irish kid got me confused with Michael Collins!"

Jesus pats his shoulder in pity. "Easter's a hard time for all of us."

Michael blinks at the scars on Jesus' palms from the nails and bites back a very bad Cross joke. "You could say that again."

After the game of Connect 4 ended, (Michael lost) you and the Archangel said your goodbyes to Jesus and began your journey down to the Devildom. Michael walks beside you, a good bit taller than you. Michael having swapped out his less than covering attire for a flowy white flare sleeved top that you'd imagine a pirate or a Victorian would wear, the lace buttons are undone for the most part, as per usual. You'd come to learn that the Archangel hated top buttons with a burning passion.

"I call Lucikins." Michael says with about as much seriousness as a 10 year old calling shotgun on the front seat of the car. So very serious.

"Fine. I call Mammon." You reply, looking up at him, as if daring him to try and boop your first man before you could. He pouts, but relents.

"I call Satan then." Michael blinks back at you with crimson eyes.

"No why?" You sulk.

Michael shrugs. "He's my nephew. I get to boop his nose it's the law."

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is!"

"Prove it then." You huff.

Michael turns around and you hear fidgeting before he hands you a paper napkin with writing on it. You notice the fountain pen he sneakily snuck back into his trouser pocket and glare at him, before reading the napkin.

The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shall let Michael boop his nephew's nose.

You hum, "Something's telling me this is fake."

Michael gasps incredulously, as if offended by the very notion, he places a hand over his breast, where his heart is. "How dareth thou! Truly, 'tis a crime against nature to speak such filth about the Holy Word. A crime against God I daresay!"

"Okayy...drama king."

Michael gasps again. "Alas! Thou speaketh such filth! Such blasphemy to thee! Thy words...such horrors! Cursed are thou amongst humankind!"

You deadpan. "I'm taking away your Shakespeare rights."

"Try it I dare you." Michael challenges, red eyes gleaming with something predatory. "You can boop Simeon."

You grin. "Yay!"

"I call Luke."

Your grin drops. "What the frickety flip that's my son."

Michael's brows furrow. "He's my son too what the flip."

You gasp, bringing your hands to your mouth. "Did we?..."

Michael's eyes widen, he pulls his top up and counts his ribs, losing count several times because you keep adding random numbers in. He looks up at you.

"Did we have a child out of Wedlock?!"

You and Michael look at each other in object horror. Both conveniently ignoring the fact that Luke technically came into existence millennias before you.

"I think we did...." You place your hand over your brow like a Victorian woman seeing the ankles of her secret lesbian lover for the first time.

Michael follows suit.

"Michael....I fear we might be sinners...."

"Well you know what they say in the human world MC...." Michael sniffles, looking away from you dramatically. "Sinner sinner chicken dinner...."

You pause, breaking character. "Is it not Winner winner chicken dinner?"

Michael shrugs. "Not like I care."

You parrot his movement, shrugging your shoulders back as well, before the horror creeps back onto your expression. "But...Simeon and Barbatos also see Luke as their son...."

Michael looks at you wide eyed, grabbing you by the shoulders, "MC! We have to count their ribs!"

You put your head in your hands, "Two angels, a demon and a human with angel blood that's somehow an angel....our son is a hybrid!"

Michael gasps. "Hybrid princess?"

You do a double take. "Why do you know what gacha is." You breath out, looking at Michael in genuine fear.

"I wasn't a gacha kid don't worry! Levi was though! He'd show me his little Gacha stories that he made...." Michael looks nostalgic. "Such an adorable little weirdo....he gets it from Lucifer y'know."

"If I described Lucifer as an adorable little weirdo I think he'd skin me alive."

"That sounds like a you problem." Michael grins.

You and Michael continue your journey down to the Devildom, only this time he's giving you a piggy back ride because you annoyed him until he agreed. Strong hands hold your thighs to keep you from falling, as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

You had been 'calling' people to boop.

"I call Diavolo."

"Deal." Michael nods, trying and failing to twist his head around to face you because you're on his back and he's not an owl. "I don't want to accidentally start another Celestial War by booping the Prince and acting King of the Devildom's nose."

"That's surprisingly a good reason."

"Fuck you mean surprisingly?" Michael scoffs, though there's no real bite to it. "I'm always having good reasons."

"Yeah and I'm the spawn of Satan." You say sarcastically, human world side winning over for a second, until you remember that Satan is in fact a real person and that you are in fact now in the Devildom.

Michael laughs, "You know who Satan's the spawn of? Lucifer."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"What's he gonna do? Bully me while I'm in a desert? Jokes on him, I hate sand and don't go anywhere near it."

"I don't feel safe anymore, we're gonna get jumped."

Michael laughs.

"I call Levi, I need to return an anime to him anyway." Michael breaks the silence.

"You borrow animes from Levi?"

"Yeah sometimes, me and Saint Peter watch animes at the gates of Heaven when it's a slow day and not a lot of souls are being guided into it."

"Nah imagine dying and waking up in heaven to see the people at the gates watching anime."

Michael sticks out his tongue, though stops when he remembers you're on his back and can't see it.

"I call Barbatos."

Michael sighs in relief, carrying you through the streets of the Devildom. "Thank God, you can have him. Good luck with that."

"Go fuck yourself Michael. I call Thirteen."

Michael gasps excitedly. "Tell her I say hi!"

"Tell her yourself."

Michael huffs. "You're so mean to me MC."

You bite his neck, really embodying your inner feral street cat. He yelps. "Don't try to steal my wife, next time I'll bite your jugular pretty boy."

Michael laughs, "I am quite pretty..." He flips his hair, the intricate golden braids and curls hit you in the face, seeing as you're still on his back. You let out a sound similar to a feral street cat coughing up a hairball, he laughs again. "Also I'm pretty sure Thirteen is a lesbian."

You perk up. "Oh yay! You should be the priest at our wedding Michael. You don't have a choice."

"Fine." The archangel huffs, his plump lips pouty. "But only if Luke's the flower boy."

"I was gonna make him the ring boy giver person." You reply, playing with one of the ornaments braided into Michael's hair.

"Even better!"

Moments of comfortable silence last before you decide to break it because you're evil and have no moral code whatsoever.

"Michael you can have Solomon."

Said Archangel halts. Dropping you off of his back before turning to look at you, now strewn out on the ground. He puts his hand over his brow like a Victorian man who just saw the ankles of his gay lover. (Probably Solomon: You'd decided.)

"No! How couldeth thou?" He sighs dramatically before it just turns exhasperated. "Those rumours just died down...."

You jump up off of the ground, wiping the soil from your clothes, "They have?! Dammit!"

Michael deadpans at you, pulling at a golden coil of hair and letting it be stretched straight before letting go and watching it bounce back up into a curl again. "I hate you."

"That's harsh."

After having separated from Michael, you sneak into your First Man's room. He sits lazily, lounging on his bed and scrolling mindlessly through his DDD. So enraptured he doesn't even notice your presence just yet until you press your finger to his nose.

"Boop!"

"ARGHH-" he screeches, jumping atleast five feet in the air before realising it was you and scoffing. "Oh...It's you...o-of course ye'd wanna boop the Great Mammon's nose! That'll cost ya!" He huffs, trying to avoid the initial embarassment of you seeing him so uncool!

"Boop!" You boop him again, he grins stupidly like an idiot inlove, before snapping out of it and putting his 'too cool for this' persona back on.

"T-that'll cost ye! MC!" He stutters, trying to cover his blush.

"Oh will it now?" You raise a brow before bringing your lips to his nose and pecking it there, pulling away again in less than a second. "Boop."

He pulls you in for a hug before you can pull away completely. You grin, having reduced the Avatar of Greed to a blushy pile of mush in your arms.

Take that Alpha Male podcasters who think women want dominant mean men who suck and hate them. Everyone knows all women want a Mammon.

You and Michael meet back up again. Michael having a scratch on his leg.

"Satan did not like the fact that I booped him at first...until I gave him an emergency kitten that I put in a cage nearby like 5 minutes before." Michael says, noticing that you noticed the scratch. "He almost bit me! He's definitely Lucikin's son!"

You point and laugh at him. He pouts, before interlocking your arms. "Purgatory hall?"

"Purgatory hall." You nod.

Michael knocks on the door. Luke answers it before gasping like a child on christmas. "Michael! Hi!" He hugs the Archangel who laughs and picks him up.

The blond boy notices you at that point, he smiles brightly. "Oh MC! Hi!"

"Hiya Luke!" You smile at him, booping his nose. "Boop!"

"Michael follows suit. "Boop!"

Luke blinks before grumbling. "I'm not a child..." He then turns his head back towards Michael who's still holding him. "Boop!"

Michael laughs. "Do MC now!" With that he quickly moves closer to you, Luke still in his arms, and the young angel boops your nose too. You all grin, laughing. Luke just ecstatic that Michael was able to visit. And he brought you too!

You end up watching a movie together, all three of you. Simeon comes home halfway through it. Having had to visit a publishers. Michael hides behind the door and when Simeon opens it, the dark skinned angel pops out, booping the poor man. "Boop!"

Simeon blinks at him. Michael smirks lightheartedly "Get booped Loserboy."

Simeon smiles, his gaze turning toward you." MC would you lie any help with your Solomon x Michael fanfiction? I heard from Satan that you two were on hiatus."

Michael groans. "Traitors!"

You laugh. "Get fanficked Loserboy."

Michael grins, putting on faux dramatics. "You both suck I'm going back into Luke! At least he's actually cool."

After a lovely movie with Luke, Simeon and Michael, you run away to a cave because why not?

After entering Thirteen's very lovely abode, and avoiding all of the traps laid out for Solomon, you finally catch a glimpse of her vibrant ombre hair.

"Hiya Tee!" You grin, pouncing on her and pulling her into a hug. The reaper, who's clearly batshit insane doesn't even flinch, she just laughs, hugging you back even tighter.

"MC! To what do I owe the pleasure babes?"

You giggle michieviously before bringing your hand up and, "Boop!"

She grins wider, bloodied emerald eyes staring back at you so lovingly, hints of playful devilry in her expression.

"Oh let me try! Boop!" She says before pulling you in for a kiss that makes your knees feel weak.

When you both pull away to catch a breath, you breathe out breathlessly. "That was a super boop....an evil boop even..." You say, face burning red, you know she feels the red hotness of your cheeks.

She just laughs. Tilting her head, some strands of hair falling into her face. "You want another one?"

You've never nodded quicker in your life.

"How in Diavolo's name did you get in here?" Lucifer asks, looking up from the work on his desk. He quickly closes over the confidential files and paperwork, turning his head to Michael once more. Blood red eyes narrowed at their counterpart's.

Michael approaches the Demon at a speed that could rival Mammon's. In an instant he's beside the raven-haired man. "Awww Lucikins don´t worry about it! Boop!"

Lucifer swallows thickly, and flicks his gaze to Michael. Despite having the glare of a thousand suns on him, Michael continues grinning. "Did you...did you just boop my nose?..." The Avatar of Pride asks in a low voice.

"I'm not too sure if I did..." Michael puts his fingers to his chin in mock thought, before grinning, pointer finger in the air. "I'll have to do it again to make sure!" The Archangel exclaims before booping his younger brother on the nose. "Boop!"

Lucifer growls. "Michael-"

"Yes, Lucikins?"

"Michael I am going to kill you."

The elder only laughed, "Awww classic Lucikins! Still in his teenage angst phase!"

"I did not have a teenage angst phase." Lucifer glares, huffing embarassedly, turning away and picking up his quill in an attempt to turn away from this god awful conversation.

Michael gives him a knowing look. "Don't make me pull out the photos."

His head snaps back to his elder brother. "What photos?"

"The photos of you with the wolf cut, the ones with you and the eyeliner, the ones where you're all dressed up in your little emo costumes..." Michael wipes a tear from his eye. "Oh...you were so adorable! Always threatening to murder me...! Glad to see that my wittle baby brother hasn't changed!" The Archangel exclaims, pinching his younger brother's cheeks and making them squish up, Lucifer felt his face flush with embarrassment. Michael laughed, he looked like a chipmunk!

"...'m no' a 'ittle ba'y bro'er! you'r tw' minu'es ol'er than 'ee!" Lucifer tries to shout, but with Michael pushing his cheeks together, it comes out muffled and distorted.

"All I heard is that you said I'm the best big brother in the three realms and you love me very much!"

Lucifer glares at him. A glare that doesn't hold any weight seeing as Michael is still squishing his cheeks together and he still looks like a chipmunk.

With enough squirming and fighting, Lucifer finally manages to get out of his brother's grip, he rubs his cheeks, staring daggers at the angel. "I would never say that. I'm not your baby brother. I'm not Lucikins. You're two minutes older than me yet two centuries more immature." He says venomously.

Too bad Michael's poison proof.

The Archangel laughs, "You're not my baby brother? Huh? Who's bed did you climb in when you were scared of the thunder back in the Celestial Realm?"

Lucifer bristles, swallowing thickly, "That's irrelevant."

"Sureee." Michael grins, though it's softer around the edges, Lucifer feels it too.

Lightning flashes in the Celestial realm. Long before Mammon had even been born. Thunder roars, a small whimper sounds. Lucifer sits in his bed, covers over his head, gripping a pillow tightly. Barely even a cherub, he takes the slight break in the storm to gather the courage to waddle over to his twin's bed.

"Mikey?" Lucifer whispers in the darkness, gripping onto the poles of the bed with his tiny pale hands. "Mikey...you awake?" He says through gapped teeth, a slight lisp in his voice. The gap between his two front teeth would close with time.

The sheets rustle, a young Michael groans, also barely a cherub his voice is as high pitched and childlike as his brother's. "Luci...go to sleep..." The slightly older cherub says, eyes still closed.

"Can't Mikey...'s too loud.." Lucifer whispers, black hair sticking to his forehead in a slight sheen of sweat. As if to prove his point, thunder roars again, lightning flashes. Lucifer whimpers, gripping the pole tighter.

Michael sits up sleepily, short curly hair tied in the tiniest protective braids possible, some small blond coils escaping their confines at the edges of his head. The older cherub wipes a small, chubby hand over his eyes and yawns before opening his duvet up just enough so that Lucifer could climb in.

"Make sure...go to sleep Lucikins..." Michael whispers tiredly, covering his yawning mouth before abandoning his teddy bear and putting his arm around his little brother instead.

Thunder sounds again. Lucifer stiffens and lets out a small sound. "Mikey...'m scared..." He grips onto his twins matching pajamas tightly with his tiny little hands.

Michael grins sleepily, red eyes staring into his twins same coloured ones. "Don't worry Lucikins! 'm always gonna p'tect you! That's wha' big brothers are for!"

The thunder still sounds, Lucifer still stiffens slightly,but surrounded by the warmth and comfort of his twin, he manages to sleep soundly.

After all the madness and badness. (Devil face emoji) You and Michael meet up in a Devildom café.

"That was productive!" The Archangel grins.

"Indeed it was Michael....indeed it was...." You say, a blissed out look on your face.

Michael arches a brow, "Is that one of Thirteen's leather jackets?"

"Maybe..." You say dreamily, playing with the sleeves.

Michael just laughs at you. "Get it, I guess! Anyway wanna watch Gilmore Girls with me? I need to catch up with Raphael...he's a few episodes ahead of me."

"Of course I do."

Michael brings his hands together in an imitation of a fly on a wall doing the hand thing. "Excellent."

.

.

.

"Do you think Luke's going to grow up to open a coffee shop?"

"Nah, he'd open a bakery."

this is utter bullshit and utter dogshit idek

[strangersteddierthings]

Based on a twitter thread the lovely @nburkhardt shared in the Discord chat and I just took the idea that Gareth is both Chrissy AND Steve's cousin and ran with it.

"Harrington, think fast!" Gareth is already lobbing the cream soda at Steve's head before he's even fully looked up but the asshole snatches it out of the air no problem. It barely even fizzes when he cracks the can open. The bastard.

"And for you, Chrysanthemum," Gareth hands off her cream soda gently, because she's his favorite cousin. She laughs at him but takes the soda. She doesn't open it right away, instead opting to set it beside her in the shade of the shed they've taken residency of. Out of sight of the rest of their family and their thousand and one questions.

"You know nicknames are supposed to be shorter than the original name, right?" Steve says, then burps because he chugged half the soda in one swallow.

"Gross," Chrissy says at the same time as Gareth's, "noice."

Steve grins, pleased with himself.

"Hey, so. I wanted to talk to you guys about something," Gareth says after a moment of quiet has fallen over them. He's plopped down in the front of them instead of resuming his spot beside Chrissy, leaning against the shed in the shade. It puts him in the sun but he wants to look at them both as they talk.

"Anything, Garebearringham," Chrissy says to annoy Steve with a lengthened nickanme.

"So, I'll be a freshman this year. And, I love you guys, you know I do, but, uh, I don't want to be seen associating with you. Publically."

There's a beat of silence where Steve and Chrissy just stare back, Chrissy looking hurt and Steve looking offended.

"What I mean is that you're both already, like, known. You know? And I don't want to just be… the cool kids' younger cousin. I want to be uncool on my own."

Chrissy says, "Oh. Yeah, I get that."

Steve says, "You want to be uncool?"

Gareth gestures to all of himself. "I am not aiming to win the popularity contest. I want to join the Hellfire club." He points an accusing finger at Steve. "You told me yourself that the club leader climbs on tables and rants about jocks-"

"Yeah, as a warning to not join Hellfire. How did you read that wrong?"

"-so I can't be seen associating with a cheerleader and the king of jocks. That'll ruin my, like, cred or whatever!"

Chrissy is nodding along solemnly. She's always been understand and sympathetic to Gareth, especially when it comes to being himself. In quiet alone times, she's confessed to being jealous of how easily being himself came to him and she wished she was as brave. Steve, however, was a conformist through and through and while Gareth could understand the why (his uncle and aunt are not the best of people) he's never going to try and fit in just because it makes like easier.

"Your cred," Steve says monotone, his bitch face out in full force.

"Yeah! My street cred!"

Chrissy and Steve share a look. Steve raises and eyebrow and Chrissy shrugs before they look back to Gareth.

"Alright. You're secret is safe with us, Garrington," Chrissy teases.

"Do not!"

"You think people aren't going to put together that you and Chrissy have the same last name?" Steve says, because he's a shithead.

"So? There like 4 Smiths, and none of them are related. It'll be fine."

"True. No one will believe the amazing Chrissy Cunningham is related to the absolute loser Gareth Cunningham."

"Absolute loser! You're a dick, Steve Harrington."

"Yeah, but you know I got your back even if you're a loser."

Gareth doesn't answer. He opens his own soda then, chugging enough to let out his own gross burp for Chrissy to scold him about and Steve to laugh.

It's the summer of 1983 and things can only go up for them all now that they're all in high school together.

[peavhyshy]

𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗘 (oneshot)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Summary: In which Rafe goes over-the-top as usual to apologize for cheating which includes a grand gesture of buying out an entire boutique is creatively meant to convey his guilt.

Warnings: strong language, fluff, semi smut (but not really), power dynamics, mental/emotional manipulation and ulterior motives, reference to cheating, sexually suggestive situations, non-consensual elements (pressure/coercion into sexual acts), dubious consent, unhealthy relationship, discomfort/anxiety, misogyny/objectification

Words: 5,130

a/n: It's been a while since I posted on here and whatever so here I am, but who's to say I won't disappear for another few months

Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Rafe sauntered into the high-end boutique, the little bell above the door announcing his arrival. The sales associates perked up, eyeing his Ralph Lauren polo and Sperry boat shoes. Ah, a Kook with money to burn. 

"Hello sir, can I help you find anything today?" the manager asked, her voice dripping with fake pleasantness.

"Yeah, I need to buy out like, your whole store," Rafe said nonchalantly, checking out a display of cashmere sweaters. 

The associates' eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Buy out the whole store, sir?"

"Yep. I screwed up badly with my girl. She's a Pogue, you know? Doesn't really do the whole fancy clothes thing. But she found out I cheated on her with some Touron last week, and now she's pissed." Rafe picked up a floral sundress, scrutinizing it. "So I figured, what better way to say sorry than decking her out in some new designer threads?"

The manager nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. Let me start ringing up some items for you."  

"Nah, like I said, I want to buy out the whole damn store. Just name your price." Rafe pulled out his credit card, waving it around.  

The manager's eyes lit up at the thought of the huge commission she was about to make. "Of course, sir, let me calculate our current retail inventory value and I'll give you a total."

"Make it quick. I’ve got a picnic on the beach planned to beg for her forgiveness," Rafe said, leaning on the cash wrap counter impatiently. 

The manager returned shortly with the grand total. Rafe didn't even blink as he handed over his credit card. Anything to get his Pogue princess back.

Rafe leaned against the wall near the cash register, watching with disinterest as the store employees scurried around grabbing items off racks and shelves.

"Come on, pick up the pace," he called out impatiently. "I wanna get out of here before the sun goes down."

The manager gave him an appeasing smile as she stuffed an armful of sundresses into a large box. "We're going as fast as we can, sir. I really appreciate your business - this is the biggest sale we've ever had!"

Rafe just shrugged, stifling a yawn. The workers were cramming the boxes full of tissue paper and accessories, trying to maximize what they could fit. Shoes, handbags, skirts, tops - everything was being cleared off the floors and walls. 

One associate struggled to fold a pile of cashmere sweaters to fit in an overflowing box while another carefully wrapped up a display of fine china jewelry. The store was slowly emptying out as the minutes ticked by.

"Ugh, this is taking forever," Rafe groaned, pulling out his phone to scroll aimlessly. "I should've just gone to Party City and bought her a bunch of balloons or something." 

The manager's smile strained a bit as she kept up her enthusiastic energy. "Almost done, sir! Just a few more minutes and you'll have our entire inventory to present to your lovely girlfriend."

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe muttered, back to being bored. Buying out the whole store was proving to be more tedious than he had anticipated. But hey, you were worth it. Probably.

”I need all of this shipped to her beach house.”

The manager nodded as she taped up another overstuffed box. "Of course, sir. I can arrange delivery to any address you'd like."

She gestured to one of the other employees. "Sara, can you grab some shipping labels? We'll need to send all of these boxes to this gentleman's girlfriend's house once we're finished packing everything up."  

Sara hurried to grab a stack of shipping labels and a pen. "What's the address, sir?" she asked Rafe.

"Oh, uh..." Rafe scratched his head. "Somewhere in The Cut, not really sure of the exact address. It's a small blue house near the bay though, it has a tire swing out front. Think the name on the mailbox is L/N or something like that."

Sara looked confused. "Do you have the street name or number? There are a lot of small blue houses in The Cut."

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I don't know that shit. Her dad's name is Hank though, if that helps. Everyone knows Hank the Tank down there."

The manager and Sara exchanged a look, neither seeming confident about locating the right address. 

"Tell you what," Rafe continued, pulling out a thick wad of cash from his back pocket. "Here's 500 bucks. That should cover you guys figuring out where the hell to deliver all this stuff to Y/N in The Cut. I'm sure one of the Pogues down there can point you in the right direction."

He tossed the cash on the counter and headed for the door without another word, leaving the overwhelmed store employees with boxes piled high and vague delivery information.

You squinted against the setting sun as three large delivery trucks rumbled down the sandy driveway toward your family's weathered beach house. You set down your cards on the rickety picnic table, where you had been playing an intense game of Crazy Eights with John B, JJ, Sarah, and Kiara.

"What the hell is this?" you muttered. The trucks parked haphazardly amidst the uncut grass and strewn beach debris surrounding the house. Drivers hopped out and opened up the backs, revealing piles and piles of boxes crammed to the brim.

"Whoa, did you order the entire Amazon warehouse or something?" JJ joked, sauntering over to inspect the deliveries. 

Before you  could respond, the porch boards creaked loudly under the weight of multiple pairs of high-heeled shoes. The group turned to see half a dozen boutique store employees teetering across the uneven ground, laden with clothing on hangers and large shopping bags.

"Oh no..." you groaned, realization dawning on you. 

"Delivery for Ms. Y/N L/N!" one of the women trilled, scanning the rural beachfront for the recipient. 

"That's you, Y/N," John B said, giving you a puzzled look.

Just then, a delivery man approached with an oversized bouquet of roses and a card. "Are you Ms. Y/N? These are for you along with all of these boxes."

"I'm going to kill him," you seethed, grabbing the card. Sure enough, it was from Rafe, attempting to apologize for cheating in his usual over-the-top Kook fashion.   

The others laughed, taking in the three trucks overflowing with designer clothes and accessories that had arrived on your doorstep.  The group whooped and raced toward the trucks, laughing at Rafe's attempt to buy back your forgiveness. You had to admit - it was a pretty damn good start.

The sun had just set over the expansive Cameron estate as you marched up the long driveway and let yourself in the front door. You breezed past the elaborate foyer and down the hall towards the state-of-the-art home gym, where you knew you would find Rafe. 

Sure enough, there he was - shirtless and pumping iron, the clanking of weights echoing through the large room. You crossed your arms, watching as Rafe finished his set of bicep curls before acknowledging your presence. 

"Oh hey babe," he said casually, setting down the dumbbells. "I see you got my gifts."

"You mean the eighteen-wheeler trucks filled with designer clothes that choked the road to my house all afternoon?" you replied sharply.  

Rafe grinned. "So I take it, you liked them?"

You rolled your eyes. "Did you seriously buy out the entire Verona Boutique?"

"Maybe," Rafe shrugged, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

"Why would you do that?" you asked in exasperation. 

"Come on, I was just trying to apologize for what I did," Rafe said. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."

You sighed heavily. "You can't buy me off with fancy clothes, Rafe. That's not how this works."  

Rafe stood up and walked over to you. "But did it at least make you smile a little?" he asked with a coy grin. 

Despite yourself, You felt the corners of your mouth turn upward. You shook your head, trying to fight the smile. 

"You're unbelievable," you scoffed. But Rafe took your reaction as a promising sign. 

"So...am I forgiven?" he asked. 

You shrugged, struggling to stay stern. "You're not off the hook yet. But...it's a start."

Rafe smiled victoriously and pulled you into an embrace. You hated to admit it, but his over-the-top gesture did melt away some of your anger. Only a Kook would think that buying out an entire boutique could fix cheating - but you had to give him points for creativity.

Rafe's face lit up with a delighted grin as he saw the smile fighting its way onto your lips. Score! He knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long, not when he pulled out all the stops with his over-the-top apology gifts. Sure, buying you an entire wardrobe wasn't exactly practical, but he wanted to go big to show you how much he cared. Because even though he screwed up by cheating, your were still his girl and he needed you to know you were #1. No Touron hookup could ever mean anything compared to you.

Pulling you tighter into his embrace, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you nuzzled into his bare chest. He could tell the wheels were still turning in your mind, trying to decide if you were ready to fully forgive  him yet. But he had plenty more tricks up his sleeve if needed. Diamonds, a new car, a trip to Paris - anything you wanted, it was yours. Being the heir to the Cameron fortune had its perks when you needed to get yourself out of the doghouse.

"So when are you gonna model some of these new outfits for me, hmm?" he murmured suggestively in your ear. "Maybe a private fashion show tonight? I'll even let you use my black AmEx again if you want to pick up some sexy lingerie to complete the looks." He grinned devilishly.

You rolled your eyes and gently pushed out of his embrace. "Down boy. You're not off the hook yet," you reminded him, though your tone had softened considerably. Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Okay okay, I know. But you gotta admit, the mental image is pretty hot," he said with a wink. you just shook your head, trying to hide your smile. You could never stay irritated with him for long. 

"Alright, I should get home and figure out what to do with the small mountain of designer clothes currently cluttering up my living room," You sighed. "I still can't believe you bought out the entire store."

Rafe waved a hand casually. "Don't even trip about it. Consider it just a small token of my love," he said smoothly.

You quirked an eyebrow. "A small token? Rafe, it's got to be worth at least $20,000 worth of stuff."

Rafe shrugged. "Meh, that's like pocket change for me, babe. You're worth it and so much more." He pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I'll swing by later to help you sort through it all, yeah?"

You nodded, a genuine smile breaking through now. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later." you gave him one last peck on the lips before heading out, shaking your head slightly at your ridiculous boyfriend's attempt to buy your forgiveness. But even you had to admit it was a pretty damn adorable gesture. The boy was utterly smitten, that much was clear. And even if it took a small army of delivery trucks worth of designer clothes to prove it, you supposed you couldn't complain. After all, what girl didn't love a massive shopping spree courtesy of the Cameron family fortune?

Rafe sauntered up the stairs of your beach house, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. your dad was away on a fishing charter and he knew you’d be home alone trying to organize the massive shipment of clothes he had sent over as an apology gift.

"Knock knock, princess!" he called out as he strode down the hall to your bedroom. "Did you get a chance to try on any of the new outfits I bought you?"

He pushed open your bedroom door to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by mounds of tissue paper and discarded shopping bags. You looked up at him in exasperation.

"Rafe! You could at least knock before barging into my room," you admonished. 

“My bad, didn't mean to startle you. Just excited to see my gifts being put to use," he said with a grin.

You sighed, gesturing to the chaos around you. "Well, I've been trying to sort through it all morning but there's just so much stuff. You went way overboard as usual."

"Anything to make my girl happy," Rafe replied smoothly, plopping down on the floor next to you. "Here, let me help you get organized."

He began sifting through the piles of clothing, occasionally holding up items for your inspection. "Ooh, you have to model this one for me," he said, grabbing a lacy black teddy. "And this mini skirt would look so hot on you."

You blushed deeply, snatching the risqué items out of his hands. "Rafe! My dad could be home any minute," you hissed in embarrassment.

"So? I want him to see how smoking his daughter looks in the outfits I bought her," Rafe said with a devilish grin. "Might make him finally approve of me."

You buried your face in your hands. "You're unbelievable," you groaned. "Can we please just focus on organizing? I don't have time for an impromptu fashion show."

"Fine fine, I'll behave. For now," he added in a playful whisper.

You guys spent the next hour sorting your new wardrobe into categories - dresses, tops, bottoms, shoes, jewelry. Rafe "helped" by periodically holding up scandalous lingerie pieces and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively until you threaten to smack him with a stiletto heel.

Despite your exasperation at the overabundance of clothing, you had to admit it was fun exploring all the different styles and accessories Rafe had picked out for you. The boy definitely knew your taste, even if he did go over-the-top with buying out the entire store. You made a mental note to donate some of the clothes to charity once you had a chance to try it all on.

You collapsed backwards onto a pile of cashmere sweaters. "Phew! We’re almost done." You smiled over at Rafe. "Thanks for your help. And for the very generous gift. Even though it's pretty ridiculous you bought out an entire store," you added with a laugh.

Rafe grinned and leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Anything for my princess," he murmured. "You deserve to be spoiled rotten."

You giggled as he nuzzled your neck, wrapping your arms around him. You supposed you couldn't stay irritated with him for long, not when he was just trying to show his affection through expensive gifts. Over-the-top as it may be.

"Alright Casanova, that's enough distracting me," You said, playfully nudging him away. "Now help me get all of these clothes put away in my closet before my dad gets home."

You shook your head in amusement. "You're absolutely ridiculous. But…" You tilted your head up to him and smiled."I love you for it."

Rafe playfully tackled you onto the pile of cashmere sweaters you had been sorting through. You let out a surprised squeal, smacking his chest lightly as he hovered over you. "Rafeee, I told you to behave!" you chided through your laughter. He just grinned mischievously, dipping his head to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you squirmed beneath him ticklishly.

"Mm mm, you know I can never keep my hands off you for long," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly. His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach and ribs. You shivered at the contact, cheeks flushing as you felt him growing hard against your thigh already. You really shouldn't be doing this with your dad liable to come home any minute…but then again, the risk just made it more exciting.

You bit your lip, hesitating only a moment longer before grabbing Rafe's face and crashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. He groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips down against yours. Things were escalating fast, all thoughts of organizing clothes now tossed aside. Rafe broke the kiss only to tug your shirt over your head swiftly. His eyes drank in the sight of your breasts encased in a lacy pink bra.

"Damn baby…have I mentioned how fucking sexy you look in all these new lingerie pieces I bought you?" He reached around to unclasp your bra, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimpered, arching into him. You were quickly losing the willpower to stop this and he knew it. His hands slid under your skirt, fingers dipping beneath your panties to find you wet and ready for him already. His hands wandered recklessly over your body, groping and grasping wherever they pleased..

"R-Rafe, my dad…" You gasped half-heartedly in protest even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

Rafe silenced you with another bruising kiss, grinding his arousal against you. His fingers tangled in your hair, using it as a handle to maneuver your head for better access to your neck and chest.

"Shh, don't worry about him," Rafe crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "It's just us right now." His knee nudged between your legs, parting your thighs as he claimed your mouth once more.

Your knees went weak, overwhelmed by the onslaught of Rafe's hungry kisses and wandering hands. You clung to his shoulders for support, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the sparking heat of his body pressed to yours. Your token protests died away as Rafe's skilled fingers caressed the soft skin of your breasts.

"That's my good girl," he praised darkly when you arched into his touch instead of pulling away. His knee rubbed teasingly between your legs as he continued his pleasurable assault, intent on showing you exactly who was in control here.

Your mind reeled, inner alarm bells drowned out by the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You knew you should push Rafe away, stop this before it went too far with your dad possibly home any minute. But your traitorous body seemed to have other ideas as it melted shamefully against Rafe's hard frame.

His kisses left you dizzy and compliant, willpower evaporating under the intoxicating strokes of his hands. But when those hands went to zip down your skirt, some deeply buried remnant of reason sparked back to life inside you.

"Rafe, stop," you gasped out, catching his wrists in your hands. He paused, eyes dark with lust and irritation at being denied his prize.

"Come on baby, don't be like that," he cajoled, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. "I know you want this too."

You shook your head, gently but firmly removing his hands from your body. "No, not now. Not here." Your cheeks burned but you held your ground. "I'm not comfortable going any further with my dad so close by. Can we please just…slow down?"

Rafe's jaw tightened, displeasure evident at having his fun interrupted. But after a tense moment he stepped back.

"Fine, princess, whatever you say," he relented, tone dripping with poorly concealed frustration. You let out a shaky breath, tugging your rumpled clothing back into place. Your lips still tingled from the force of Rafe's kisses but the frenzied moment had passed.

"Thank you. I'm sorry, I just don't want our first time to be so…rushed," You said earnestly, hoping he could understand despite his obvious annoyance at being denied. His eyes remained dark but he managed a tight smile.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Wouldn't want Daddy dearest walking in on us anyway," he said with an eye roll. You smiled weakly, knowing that was as close to understanding as you would get from him right now. At least he had backed off for the moment. But you had a feeling this conversation was far from over. Rafe did not like being told no.

He swallowed down his anger, forcing his face into a strained smile. He had to play this carefully; you Lila too much and you’d bolt. No, he needed to lure you in gently, make you trust him completely.

"Of course, princess. We'll take this at your pace," he said smoothly, stroking your cheek. "I just got carried away because you're so damn irresistible." He kissed your forehead, the very picture of understanding despite the lust still raging inside him.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you, Rafe. I'm glad you understand. I promise, when the time is right…" You trailed off, blushing. Rafe tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your neck teasingly.

"Don't worry baby, I'll make it so good for you when you're ready," he purred. You shivered, skin tingling from his touch. "For now, why don't you model some of these new outfits for me? Might give me a sneak peek of what I have to look forward to." He grinned devilishly.

You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. "You're incorrigible," you admonished, but went to pick out a few items from the piles of new clothes. Rafe settled on your bed, hungry eyes tracking your every movement.  For now, he would enjoy the little fashion show. But it was only a matter of time before those clothes ended up scattered across the bedroom floor instead.

A relieved smile crossed your face as Rafe appeared to accept your request to slow things down without argument. You knew he must be frustrated, but you appreciate him respecting your boundaries for now. There would be a right time and place for intimacy later on.

As you sifted through the piles of new clothes, Your smile faltered slightly. You could feel Rafe's intense gaze following your every movement, almost palpable in its hunger. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not entirely an unpleasant one. Still, something about the glint in his eyes gave you pause.

You selected a few simple, conservative outfits to model - a loose fitting sundress, some shorts with a flowy blouse. But Rafe tsked in disappointment, getting up to rummage through the options himself.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," he coaxed, grabbing a slinky miniskirt and cropped tank top. "I want to see my sexy girl shine." He shot you a playful grin as he pressed the revealing clothes into your hands.

You laughed nervously. "Rafe, those aren't really my style…" But he pouted childishly, guiding you towards the adjoining bathroom.

"Humor me? Just a peek," he insisted. You hesitated, then relented with a shy smile. You had never worn anything so risqué before, but the delight on Rafe's face was gratifying. And it was just the two of you after all…

You changed quickly, adjusting the tiny skirt over yourself. The top was snug and showed a hint of midriff that made you self-conscious. But Rafe's eager expression as you stepped out stopped any protests before they left your lips.

"Stunning," he breathed, drinking in the sight of you. You blushed under his intense scrutiny, suddenly feeling very exposed. But you tried to push past it, giving an awkward little twirl to show off the outfit fully. Rafe's grin was downright predatory.

"Now take it off nice and slow," he said lowly, eyes raking over you. "Give me a proper show."

You balked, arms crossing instinctively over your torso. "Rafe, I…" His eyebrows shot up in challenge and you faltered. Maybe you were overthinking things. You didn't want to disappoint him again…

With trembling fingers, You reached for the hem of the snug tank top. But the voice inside screaming this was a bad idea only grew louder. You dropped your hands, shaking your head firmly as you backed towards the bathroom.

"I'm sorry Rafe, I can't do this. The clothes need to stay on." Your voice was small but resolute. You wouldn't ignore your instincts, not even to placate Rafe's desires. His scowl made your stomach twist anxiously, but you stood your ground, waiting for his response.

Taking a deep breath, Rafe fixed an understanding smile on his face. "You're right, I got carried away again. I'm sorry," he said gently. "I just can't control myself around you sometimes. You look so gorgeous in that outfit."

He approached you slowly until you allowed him to take your hands in his. "Of course the clothes should stay on until you're ready. I'm truly sorry for pushing you, princess." He brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a grateful smile. "It's okay, Rafe. Thank you for understanding." You leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom to change.

You emerged from the bathroom in a comfortable sundress, feeling infinitely more at ease now that you were back in your own clothes. Rafe's obvious disappointment tugged at your heartstrings for a moment, but you brushed it aside. You knew in your gut that stripping for him, even just down to your underwear, wasn't something you were ready for yet.

To your relief, Rafe seemed to have reigned himself in and was back to his usual charming self, apologizing for getting carried away again. You smiled up at him gratefully, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for being so patient with me," You said earnestly. "It really means a lot. I know this is all new for me." you ducked your head a bit shyly.

Rafe tilted your chin up, smiling fondly as he gazed down at you. "Of course, princess. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm just happy to be with you," he assured you smoothly.

Your heart swelled. You knew you had been lucky to find a guy like Rafe. Wealthy Kook boys had a reputation for being entitled spoiled brats. But most people didn't get to see this sweet, caring side of Rafe like you did. He could be impulsive and hot headed at times, but he respected your boundaries when it really mattered.

"You're the best boyfriend ever," You declared, going up on tiptoe to kiss him warmly. Rafe grinned against your lips, strong arms circling your waist.

"Anything for my girl," he murmured affectionately when you broke apart. You playfully booped his nose, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Alright mister, as much as I appreciate these new clothes, I could really use some help donating some of them," you said in a practical tone. "I can't even wear this many outfits in a lifetime!"

Rafe heaved a dramatic sigh but smiled good-naturedly. "Fiiine, guess I did go a little overboard on the shopping spree," he conceded. You giggled.

"Just a bit. Come on, let's get started." You took his hand, leading him back to the piles of clothes awaiting sorting. Even if Rafe's impulsive extravagance could be frustrating at times, You were grateful to have someone so attentive and willing to lavish you with gifts and affection. You hoped in time he would come to value you for more than just your looks or virginity. For now, You were content to take things slow and simply enjoy exploring young love one day at a time.

Rafe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he let you lead him by the hand back to the piles of designer clothes he had gifted you. Donating them? What a pointless waste. He had spent a small fortune solely with the intent of seeing you decked out in finery, not giving it away to the destitute Pogues of the Cut.

But he bit his tongue, keeping up the doting act. "Of course I'll help, babe. Anything you want," he said smoothly, playing with your fingers.

Soon, he promised himself as he pulled you in for a chaste kiss on the forehead that contradicted his lustful thoughts. Your smile made him want to gag, but he mirrored it charmingly. Let you enjoy playing house a little while longer. He was adept at getting what he wanted from any woman eventually. The thought made Rafe's cock stir impatiently, but he willed it down. Not yet. He needed to lull you into total complacency first before finally stripping away the last of your resistance.

You hummed contentedly to yourself as you neatly folded clothes into donation boxes, Rafe helping beside you. You smiled up at him after he gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, happy you guys seemed to be back in sync after the brief tension earlier.

You held up a slinky red cocktail dress, pondering keeping it for a special occasion. But no, it wasn't really your style at all. Into the donation box it went. You frowned slightly as you pulled out several incredibly risqué lingerie items - crotchless panties, lace teddies that left little to the imagination. Definitely not your taste.

"Geez Rafe, did you raid the whole lingerie section?" you asked with a laugh. Rafe just shrugged, unbothered. You shook your head in amusement as you set them aside to give to your more adventurous friend.

Once all the clothes were sorted, you surveyed the boxes contentedly. You had kept enough everyday outfits to last a lifetime, but now many girls in the Cut would have the chance to enjoy fancy new clothes too. It made you happy to spread the wealth, so to speak.

"There, all done! The donation center is going to be thrilled." You smiled brightly at Rafe. "This was a really great idea. I know I said it already, but thank you again for being so generous. And understanding about…everything," you finished, cheeks pinking slightly.

Rafe smiled back warmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Of course, babe. Anything for you," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. You snuggled into his side, relieved you seemed to be back on the same page.

You hoped with time, Rafe would see you as more than just a conquest or object of physical desire. For now, you were content taking it slow, focusing on emotional intimacy over physical. You had all the time in the world for those things later on if things progressed. But for today, You were simply happy snuggling innocently with the boy who made you feel so safe, protected and cherished. Everything was perfect just as it was.

[azurevi]

from the eyes of the beholder

pairing: leona x gn!reader

summary: 5 times others know that leona is head over heels for you, and the 1 time he acts on it. 7.5k

note: just pure, innocent fluff ❤️ reader = ramshackle prefect

1.

Jack liked to imagine himself as a somewhat perceptive person, especially with his large ears catching wind of exchanged whispers and his outstanding olfaction that allowed him to pick up distinctive scents. As reserved as he seemed, he tended to watch things from the sidelines and keep note of different people's quirks and whatnots, and so more often than not he would surprise others with his hidden knowledge and observations. All in all, he knew quite well about people around him.

Or so he thought, because whatever was unfolding in front of his widened eyes was making him doubt all his previous judegements about his much respected dorm leader. 

It was mid-afternoon with the sun hanging high in the sky, burning with murderous intent. Jack, having had the misfortune to be the first student spotted by Crewel, was tasked to 'bring him the disobedient cat who would rather sleep than attend his lessons'. Jack recalled the places Ruggie would go to find Leona and found himself in the botanic garden in no time, eyes scanning the lush green and distracting flowers. He smelled his presence first, then noticed something else mixed in that woody scent.

His confusion only grew when he recognized its owner, who was none other than the prefect of Ramshackle. The trail led him to a spot shielded by a thick canopy of banana leaves, and right underneath was Leona, serenely asleep and– wait, is he sleeping on the prefect's lap? And is that their hand in his hair?

Jack blinked. He wasn't hallucinating.

Your face brightened in recognition when he finally shuffled close enough. "Hey Jack! Here to check on the cacti?"

"...No," despite his initial shock, his voice gave nothing away. Leona spared him one glance before promptly closing his eyes again. "Crewel asked me to bring Leona to class, but… what are you doing here?"

As if just now realizing yourself, you removed your fingers from Leona's silky hair, earning a dissatisfied huff. "Your dorm leader here caught me passing by and made me his personal pillow. I haven't moved from this position for hours."

Jack hoped that you were only exaggerating about the time, but frankly he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to care. For one, the painfully arrogant, prideful, and self-assured prince was resting his head on your lap and letting you thread your fingers through his locks? The Leona who would scowl and glower whenever someone so much as brushed against his tail? The Leona who would bite someone's arm off before ever giving them the idea that he could be anything less than almighty, let alone soft?

"Just tell Crewel you failed. I'm not about to ruin my nap to brew stupid potions," Leona stated, stubborn as usual.

"No way, I'm not missing my classes so that you can have your fun in dreamland. Get up!" You nudged him. No movement. "Jack, can you help me drag him off?"

Before the poor boy could take a step, Leona growled. "Don't you dare. Just give me ten more minutes, damn it."

"That's the third time you've said it." You deadpanned, to which he responded with a half-hearted hum. Seeing as he wasn't moving any time soon, your shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'll bring him over as soon as the ten minute mark passes."

It was less than ideal to have to go back to Crewel empty-handed, but there was no convincing Leona when he was hell-bent on doing something. With a defeated sigh, Jack nodded. "I'll be relying on you then, prefect."

If there was one person in NRC who could be deemed trust-worthy, it had to be you. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back before bidding goodbye.

In reality, didn't leave right away. He knew that he shouldn't intrude on his friend's life (let alone his senior's), but curiosity got him in a chokehold. Besides, he needed to make sure that you wouldn't get your wrist torn off if you tried anything else.

"It's quite unfair, actually," you mumbled. "All you do is lie around all day, how do you even pass your classes?"

"Everything the school’s teaching, I’ve already learned back home." Leona's mouth curled into a smirk. "What, are you jealous?"

"As if," you rolled your eyes. As if out of habit, you started smoothing his mane out again. With each gentle stroke, Leona's face relaxed into a peaceful expression, and his ears twitched in what Jack could only identify as delight. You must've noticed it too, because something akin to interest flitted across your feature. Jack's stomach dropped. He had seen that look many times before, and it was a telltale sign of trouble. 

After only a bit of hesitation, your outstretched hand moved to touch Leona's fluffy ear. That's it, Jack thought. You'd done it– poked at the hornet’s nest, shoved your hand inside a tiger’s yawning mouth, threw yourself into a river filled with piranhas. It was nice knowing you. There was no way you were going to get away with this.

Leona's eyes shot open, his nose scrunched in annoyance. "Careful where you touch, herbivore."

"Fine. My bad," you removed your hand with great reluctance, returning to dedicate your attention to his hair. The moment carried on as if nothing had happened, and within seconds Leona was already snoring.

What the hell was that. Jack swiveled on his heels and let his legs lead him away. In his head was only thoughts darting around, trying to make sense of why exactly Leona acted so differently towards you. The fact that he had you stay during his sleeping time was already out of character enough, but to let you off after you touched his ear, one of the most sensitive parts of a beastman's body? 

There could be something going on here. Jack had a hunch on what it was, but he didn't feel like jumping to conclusions just yet. For now, he should just sit and watch.

At the end of the day, he got caught by Crewel again. It turned out that Leona never showed up for his lesson after all.

2.

It was a breezy afternoon, but for Epel it was hotter than ever on the sports ground. The Magift Club was having its routine training, and everyone was dedicating their best even though it wasn't a real tournament.

His own heartbeat was the only thing he could hear as he dashed towards the opposing team's goal, the golden disk hovering right beside him. Yells and heavy steps followed him, but he was determined not to let his legs give out. Eagerness lurched inside his throat as the net neared, and he angled his arm to throw the disk–

-- only to get thrown off balance by a gust of wind. He landed on his butt with a groan, and looked up to see the disk in the possession of one Savanaclaw student. Cursing under his breath, he swatted the dirt off his knees and dived into action again.

After some more intense chasing and magic being thrown around, he headed with the rest of the team towards the benches, where Leona was sprawled out on a chair, sharp eyes heavy-lidded and coated with sleep. It wouldn't be a surprise if he turned out to have slept through the entire match.

"... Your weakness is that you only know how to charge forward." Leona commented just as Epel was about to take a sip from his water bottle. "You can't improve if you never learn how to look out for ambushes."

"Ah… thank you."

Alright, so maybe he hadn't been out for the count after all. Nonchalantly, Leona shifted into a more comfortable position, his face angled away from Epel. Even if he came off as detached and uncaring most of the time, there were occasions where he would give out short yet valuable advice and prove that he had been keeping an eye on his members. Epel only hoped that he could see the renowned player in action more often. Sadly, it only happened once in a blue moon.

"Ah, look who's here," Ruggie said. Epel followed his gaze and spotted you walking across the field, holding a paper bag large enough to topple you. It wasn't rare that you would drop by and visit. In fact, most of them had been looking forward to you and swarmed you with warm welcomes (presumably because they knew you were hiding snacks in that bag, but Epel decided not to comment on that when his stomach was rumbling too).

"Where's Leona?" You asked once you've given Ruggie a bag of donuts. The grinning hyena jutted his head to the side, "Lazing around as usual. Wanna stay and watch us play?"

You arched your head back and scanned the clock above the rows of seats. "Sure, I have some time to kill." You gave him a thumbs up and made your way towards the chairs at the front. 

Epel watched as you kicked Leona's chair to wake him up. He was too far away to hear whatever you were talking about, but you looked pretty close, chatting away with an exchanged chuckle here and there. Even though Leona still looked sleep-laden, he rested his head on his fist and kept his eyes on you the whole time.

One was his club leader, and the other was his close friend. He was starting to wonder how you two had become so close when Ruggie threw his arm around his frame. "Time for round two! What, you still haven't finished the cookies? Need some help?"

Epel quickly shoved them inside his mouth. "No fran qu (no thank you)!"

Everyone had already spread out in two teams when Leona promptly stood up from his humble 'throne' and stepped onto the field. "Wait. You, swap with me."

The second-year student in question pointed at himself and blinked. 

Leona frowned. "Do I need to repeat myself?" 

"N-no!" The student ran off with his tail literally between his legs. Epel's eyes followed the man as he made his way to the front of the opposing team, stretching his muscled limbs. 

The match started as soon as you blew the whistle. If Leona actually getting on the field was out of the ordinary, then him putting effort in playing was enough to leave one flabbergasted and dumbfounded. He didn't even have to lift a finger to weave his way through the wall of opponents. Yet, as Epel watched on, he couldn't help but feel both amazed and startled at the same time. 

Amazed, because Leona really lived up to his name as one of the top players among the long list of magic schools. He was quick on his feet, never letting anyone so much as touch the hem of his shirt as he flashed past defenses. In fact, his moves were so unpredictable and fast that whatever formations that had been discussed dissolved within moments as everyone scrambled to block him. But that was not all– he was tactical. One moment he was making others chase him so that he could sweep them away with one single hit, the other he was planting traps on the ground and sneering as they fell victim. It was like he could predict everyone's move.

There was no chance of beating him even if he had his eyes closed all the way. Though Epel's eyes were trained on the lone figure, he could hear your voice booming across the field.

"Ruggie! Epel! Go get him!"

"Ugh, I'm trying!" Epel clenched his jaw and rushed forward, shouting as he prepared to launch a sneak attack from behind– then Leona turned his head and smirked.

–

It only took fifteen minutes for Leona to render everyone useless. Epel dragged himself towards the benches and dropped himself carelessly, limbs sprayed out as he tried to catch his breath.

"Did you have to go that harsh on them?" You said as Leona returned with nary a bead of sweat. There was a touch of playful reprimand in your voice.

"They need to be humbled once in a while lest they become too full of themselves." 

You two moved somewhere else, the air carrying your words away. The temporary silence was replaced by Ruggie's wheezes. "Jeez- lemme catch my breath. That was hell."

"I know right," Epel answered weakly. "Do you think Leona-san joined because we weren’t doing good enough?"

"Please, he wouldn't bother," there were sounds of a paper bag being rustled. A moment later, Ruggie spoke up again, this time with food in his mouth. "The answer is pretty simple, actually. Why do you think he worked so hard out there?"

"...He wanted to kick our asses?"

"Nah, that's too much trouble. If he wanted to kick your ass he would've asked me to do it." Epel wasn't sure what to feel about that information. "The truth is- he just wanted to show off, duh."

Epel craned his head so he was facing Ruggie. "Show off? To whom?"

"C'mon. Just see for yourself."

He did as told, scanning the place and eventually spotting you still talking to Leona, this time playfully shoving at his arm at something he had said. There was this look on his face that Epel couldn't put a name to. He'd seen it on someone else though: Sebek as he gushed about Malleus, Rook as he read a magazine with Vil's face printed on the cover, Cater when he came across something Magicam-worthy. Epel knew exactly what these displayed feelings were, but then it would mean that–

"Leona-san worked us to the bone just so he could impress the prefect?" Epel all but barked out the accusation. Ruggie giggled at his reaction and shrugged, leaving the boy even more exasperated. That wasn't really the point, but irritance was clouding his senses at that time. It was only until he was back in his room and lying in bed that he would start to connect the dots and let out a loud, stunned gasp.

3.

The café near NRC had been flooded with customers all day, and the queue only lengthened as time passed. Cater squeezed his dry eyes shut, having scrolled on his phone the whole time he was waiting outside. 

Ever since a famed influencer on Magicam had complimented this café in a post, it had been getting all the hype. Cater couldn’t miss out on the fun, even if everything on the menu was too saccharine for his liking.

After what felt like millennia, he finally got inside the shop. It looked like pink had vomited all over the walls, but it should look aesthetic enough for the folks on Magicam. Cater spotted a vacant seat by the window and rushed towards it. From the corner of his eyes he could see a man heading in the same direction. 

“Shit-“ the man cussed as he tripped. 

“Ah, my bad.” Cater raised his hands and stepped away. The man muttered something under his breath and looked up. The seat had already been taken by the… same man that had just run into him?

Cater chuckled quietly as the man looked around the shop, then back at him again. His unique magic really came in handy sometimes.

He ordered the most famous dishes and turned to his phone again. Perhaps he would give them to those adorable first-years later, or just send them all to Trey.

After a while, even the endless scrolling came to an end. Cater pressed on the home button and waited for the page to refresh. Emerald eyes wandered lazily around the room, rounding when he caught sight of a familiar figure.

If it was any other person, Cater would’ve thought that his eyes had deceived him, but there was no mistaking those ears and long tail. That was definitely Leona Kingscholar, standing in queue with his hands shoved inside his pockets. Much like Cater, he was still in school uniform, and the look of irritance on his face made him stand out like a sore thumb in this sugary world.

Just what could he be doing here? Cater knew that the man wasn’t particularly into sweets and pastries. He definitely wasn’t one to follow trends either. Not to mention that he had zero media presence… unless he had a private account?

Leona’s tail flicked. The man in front of him suddenly crossed his foot in front of the other and stumbled out of the queue. Leona quickly stepped up and silenced whatever the man was going to say with a glare.

In the corner of the café, Ruggie’s shoulders shook with laughter.

Even with underhand methods, there was only so much the two could do to shorten the waiting time. It took another fifteen minutes for them to finally get to the counter. Cater watched with intrigue as the barista stuffed two well-loved red velvet cakes into a white box and handed it to Leona. 

Ruggie quickly finished one of them as soon as he got his hands on it, and Cater read ‘worth the effort’ from his lips movement. The two left with the untouched piece sitting peacefully inside the box.

Well, that was something. Cater shook his head and started snapping pictures of the desserts that had arrived moments ago. To think that Leona of all people would wait in line just for a piece of cake… his thoughts went on as he mindlessly typed out a caption. Could it have been for someone else ?

Nah. No way. He couldn’t imagine Leona ever lifting a finger for anyone other than himself. 

Night was already creeping on the horizon by the time he finally finished posting. The walk back school was accompanied by more scrolling. The prefect’s profile icon popped up in the ‘story’ section. Cater clicked in without a second thought.

It was a photo of a red velvet cake. The red velvet cake. The text above it read ‘pleasant surprise from an unlikely party!’ 

Within moments, he was already scanning the entire photo like a detective. There, in the right corner, was a tail. No doubt about it. And he knew the tail— he had just watched its owner spend nearly half an hour lining up in the cafe.

"Now isn't this an interesting discovery…?" Mischief passed over his eyes for a split second, his legs picking up the pace. It seemed that desserts wouldn't be the only thing he would be delivering today.

4.

It was nothing out of the norm for Leona to spend Monday afternoons napping under the tall apple tree. In fact, he went there so routinely that he might as well become one with the background. 

Today, though, something had changed. Or as Rook would call it, love was in the air, because under the tree were two figures in lieu of one.

You were sitting cross-legged against the trunk, sheets laid out around you like a protective shield. Every once in a while, Leona’s tail would mess them up, and if you berated him he would feign innocence.

“Come on Leona, you’re the only one who can help me with this.” You nudged his knee.

Rook squinted, his eyes locking onto the documents. There, on the top of what seemed to be the cover page, read ‘Sunset Savanna’.

Ah, a history project then.

“Ask Ruggie.”

“I would if he wasn’t busy doing your duties. So you’re stuck with me.”

Leona made a low grumbling noise, but Rook noted that his face showed no sigh of annoyance. How unfair! The first few times Rook approached the beastman during his nap, he received nothing less than distasteful glares and venomous threats.

One more evidence supporting his hypothesis.

“Fine. You have five minutes to ask questions.”

A smile bloomed on your face, one that Leona didn’t fail to catch. It was only a flash, easily overlooked, but Rook saw it crystal clear— the subtle tenderness intruding on his scowl. It disappeared as quickly as it’d come.

“Alright. So what’s Sunset Savannah like?”

“Hot.”

You heaved a sigh. “You’re not cooperating here.”

“Maybe your questions are too vague, herbivore.”

“Ugh- fine! Let’s start with the people. Do you guys have a mascot or something?”

Leona shifted so he was lying on his side, left arm propped up with his head resting on his palm. “There’s this warthog and meerkat everyone loves. They’re supposed to be related to the King of Beasts. Personally though, I couldn't care less.”

"How about something that cannot be found anywhere else?”

“Mm. Hot spring eggs,”

“You guys have hot springs?” With the way your eyes twinkled with interest, Leona couldn’t help but give in.

“No, it’s a volcano…”

Your ‘interview’ stretched out for far longer than five minutes, eventually jumping from general knowledge to Leona’s own experience with the place he grew up at. 

“Sure, the sunset is beautiful, but the real show begins when night falls. All kinds of stars come out, perfect for sentimental beings like you.”

“I don’t believe that you’ve never looked at them before.” You challenged.

Leona scoffed, reaching to scratch the back of his ear. “Only as a kid. It gets boring.”

“The privilege is showing, your highness,” you sighed wistfully, angling your head so you were gazing at the bright sky. “I wish we had stars here too.”

“If you really want to see them, I can bring you there next time.” 

Your face lightened up. 

“Of course, it comes with a price.”

You rolled your eyes. “And what will it be?”

A dismissive hum. “I’ll decide later.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it then.” You started packing your things, missing the way Leona’s tail swished. Even if you had noticed, you probably wouldn’t have understood what it meant. Rook tittered into his palm as he watched on.

“Leaving so soon? I expected more questions,” Leona said. 

“I'd rather not get on your bad side by keeping you away from your precious nap. I’ll come to you if I need anything—“ your words were interrupted with a sharp hiss. In your careless movements, the paper managed to slice through your skin, leaving a stinging cut.

Leona picked up the smell immediately, his eyes trained on your finger. The slit was unnoticeable at first, but red eventually started to bloom around it. 

“Tsk. How careless are you?” He jumped onto his feet and snatched your hand, observing the cut. Your eyes danced between his face and the wound, much like a flustered rabbit. 

“It's just a cut.” You started, trying to hide your hand. But his grip on you was strong, albeit not enough to hurt. 

“No it's not. You could get an infection and end up troubling me again. I’ll get you bandaged up.” He began walking with his hand still holding your wrist, pulling you along. 

You took advantage of the situation and dived into another round of questions for your project, and Leona, irritated that he might seem, answered them accordingly.

As the two of you neared the building Rook was in, his eyes suddenly shot up, practically shooting daggers at a particular window.

“What’s it?” You stood on your tiptoes. There was no one behind the glass.

His features remained hardened for a moment before he relaxed his shoulders. “…Nothing. You were sayin’?” 

Rook waited a few seconds to reemerge again. Although you’d already vanished from sight, he had already gathered all that he needed: the lion had been captivated by none other than the magic-less prefect, and he barely needed his instincts and observations as a hunter to confirm that.

5.

It wasn’t that you hated group work. If anything, you enjoyed having someone share the workload. But when your group mates were none other than the red & blue duo from Heartslabyul plus a cat-shaped trouble magnet, you would really rather be left alone. 

“We should make a body swapping potion. I bet it’ll be fun if Riddle and Floyd exchanged personalities.” Ace suggested with that look of his that often preceded undesired circumstances. You were heading to your next class along with the wave of students in the corridor.

“Can you please take this test seriously? I can’t get another fail!” Deuce slapped the back of Ace’s head, causing the redhead to stagger forward. A few students turned their heads around in curiosity, but most were already familiar with the two's antics.

Crewel had given each group the mission to brew from scratch one of the potions mentioned in the textbook as a part of the term test, not knowing what a mistake it was to leave the power of decision-making to you lot.

“How about a potion that can make all food taste like Tuna?” Grim asked, tail brushing your neck as he perched himself on your shoulder.

“Just ask Trey to do that for you.” You commented, not bothering to look up from the testbook in your hands.

“You’re right, henchman! Let’s go right now!”

“Focus on the test first, will you?” Ace was the one to complain this time, earning a hiss from Grim.

“Let’s narrow it down to potions that are easy to make. It’ll be more convenient if the ingredients can be acquired in the botanical garden.” Deuce went around the bickering duo to peek over your shoulder.

The mention of the botanical garden reminded you of a certain lazy lion. Being caught up in the test had kept you from meeting Leona in your free time. In fact, you hadn’t seen him for a whole week already. It didn’t help that he was in another year and had entirely different classes.

Perhaps you could pay him a visit later, but it’s not as if he would miss you or something. A foreign sadness crept up on you. You shook the thought off and opted to focus on the book instead.

It seemed that fate preferred otherwise, because a gust of wind carried Ruggie's laughter to you, followed by a gruntle from– speak of the devil– Leona. Your eyes were already searching for him through the passing crowd before you could contain your curiosity. The lurch in your chest told a lot more than you were willing to admit.

Leona, on the contrary, didn't need to search at all. His sharp eyes landed on you with infallible precision, as unreadable as ever. If it had been anyone else, you would've raised your hand and greeted them with energy, but this was the same person who once walked past you as though you were a mere stranger, leaving your open palm hanging in the air. As an attempt to preserve your dignity, you decided to avert your eyes.

Anyways, since when did Leona of all people go to classes?

Your heartbeat succumbed to a deafening rhythm the closer he got. Half hopeful and half desperate to suppress it, you held your breath the moment he was close enough that your shoulders touched.

As expected, he did not greet or even address you in any way. But there was something soft touching your cheek, the suddenness making your eye twitch in surprise. It caressed your face almost gently before cool air took its place.

You turned just in time to catch Leona's tail retreating.

–

Engrossed in the contents of the book, you missed all the meaningful gazes being shot around by your friends. Ace and Deuce had been at it for some time, while Grim pretended to understand. 

Deuce was positive that he wasn’t on the same channel as Ace. Just earlier, when he’d caught Leona’s tail poking your face, he shot a quick look at Ace. A raised brow, a glance towards you, then back to Ace. It was supposed to mean ‘Did you catch that?’, and Ace took it as ‘Wanna ambush the prefect?’

The resulted mayhem when Ace tackled you was something you never wanted to bring up again.

Now Deuce wasn’t sure what went on between you and the fearsome leader of Savanaclaw, but Ace had an idea or two. Epel and Jack had both commented offhandedly about the weird atmosphere that surrounded you two. Deuce was present both times, but it'd probably flew right over his head.

Deuce wriggled his brows. Do you have any idea? 

Ace mirrored him. Dude, what even is that supposed to mean? 

Grim’s feigned participation was cut short when he caught sight of two familiar figures entering the canteen. “Hey! What is that sleepyhead doing here?”

All three of you snapped your heads towards the entrance. There stood the spotlight of their discussion, Leona, in his usual rumpled form, half-awake daze, sharp fangs catching the chandelier’s light as he yawned. 

“First he heads to class, now he’s coming to the canteen himself. What’s up with that guy?” Grim gasped dramatically. “Is he plotting something again?”

“He’s not,” you came to his defense with suspicious rapidness. “Plus, what is there to plot about?”

“Mm. You have a point, henchman.” 

“Alright,” Ace held his fist out. “Loser buys lunch. Rock paper scissors!”

Grim let out a shrill laugh as Deuce stared at his sole open palm in defeat. It wasn’t your fault that he only ever played paper. 

While your cat proceeded to go off on a tangent the today's menu, you gazed over at the growing masses of students. 

“So,” Ace craned his head. “Have you chosen the potion or are we going with body swapping?”

“Or the tuna one!”

“Neither.” You tore your eyes away and turned the book around. “We’re making a flower-growing potion—“

They groaned loudly.

“—because it’s easy to make. Do you want to pass or not?” You insisted.

“I would rather be well-fed! Flowers are stu- FNNGA!”

Grim jumped a good feet in the air when someone slammed their lunch on your table, his fur standing tall in alert. Leona sank onto Deuce’s seat, while Ruggie took the spot next to Ace. “You should try to be gentler, Leona-san.”

Before the lion could answer, Grim stood up and yelled, “Hey! That’s Deuce’s seat!”

“Yea? He’s tiny enough to squeeze in somewhere.” Leona said nonchalantly. There was a curiously excessive amount of meat in his dish. After a beat, he turned to you. “What’re you up to?”

Ace resisted the urge to tell him off, preferring to indulge in your interaction to preserve Deuce’s interests.

“Potion test. What, have you missed me?” 

“A lil’ bit.”

That seemed to catch you off-guard. Ace snorted in his attempt to hold in a laugh, and received a kick under the table from Ruggie.

As you tried to come up with a response, he leaned in and grabbed your book. “Making something?”

“The one for growing flowers. Its ingredients are the easiest to find.”

“Ah. I know where you can find them in the botanical garden. I’ll show you later.” He closed the book and slid it across the table.

“Wouldn’t I be invading your precious rest?”

“Then you’ll just have to catch up and be quick.”

Just then, Deuce returned with an expression twisted between confusion and betrayal. Ace barely felt guilt-- there were many things he had to discuss with Deuce (and Grim, though he seemed ignorant).

For now, he just let the pouting boy squeeze in beside him and quietly observed Leona and you throughout lunch, utilizing whatever knowledge he had about love to analyze the situation. He picked up on the way you took Leona’s vegetables without having to ask and how you slapped his hand away when he reached for the meat on your plate. Occasionally he would throw in a snarky comment that aimed to drive you up and wall, and smirk when it succeeded. 

And those looks, sevens. If Ace had to watch for a minute longer he might have to puke in his lunch. He reckoned that he’d already seen enough before turning to address Deuce, who was still hung up on his seat being taken. 

It felt great, holding this kind of knowledge over you. If he played his cards right, he might even get some benefits out of it.

“Dude, what’s with that creepy smirk on your face?” Ruggie pointed out suddenly.

Ace shrugged, “Nothing. You’ll know sooner or later.”

6.

Ruggie was the first to know. 

Leona had been upfront and rather transparent about his feelings, but the hyena had long before noticed the shifts in Leona’s attitude towards you. It was hard not to when he was the one kicking him awake and dragging him to class everyday. Leona's actions spoke a lot more than words could, and the occasional passing glances were impossible to ignore.

When Ruggie confronted him about it, he admitted it while making it sound as casual as he could. Ruggie never for a second bought his nonchalance.

And it was great, knowing that his dorm leader wasn’t a stone-cold heartless jerk. It was both leverage and great material for teasing even when Leona would threaten to tape his mouth shut. 

That was until the people came in. First it was Jack, then it was Epel, then the many other friends and acquaintances who wanted first-hand information on Leona’s love life. Even underclassmen whom he’d only seen around campus approached him. At first it was a great source of income— nothing came without a price after all— but when it began to interfere with his work, it didn’t feel so satisfying anymore. 

If Leona would just make it official, it would make Ruggie’s life so much easier. But no, that lion was so stubborn that he hadn’t even confessed his feelings yet. And he doubted that you were any wiser. 

Now Ruggie knew better than to stick his nose where he didn’t belong. There were countless ways in which things could go wrong and he really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Leona’s wrath. Yet if they went right, he could get those nosy students off his back and end the torture of seeing you dance around each other like two dumbasses.

No, he wasn’t concerned about your (or Leona’s, for that matter) love life at all. He just wanted Leona to spend more time with you so he could catch a break. 

Plus it’d put Leona in a good mood, and that’s really all he could ask for.

As usual, Leona’s room was disheveled when Ruggie entered, a chess board lying at the end of the bed while its rightful owner was snoozing, wrapped inside a blanket like a burrito. With light steps he lurked further in, inhaled deeply, and flung the file toward the sleeping lion with all his might.

Leona’s hand shot out from the blanket and caught the document mid-air. “What did I say about interrupting my naps, Bucchi?”

“That I should never wake you even if the sky’s falling down?”

As Leona stretched his limbs after the satisfying rest, the bed seemed to shrink in comparison. “You better have a good reason then.” He said mid-yawn, opening the file to read the papers inside. He was supposed to pick them up from Crowley, but decided that they weren’t important enough to warrant his presence.

Well, here goes nothing. “I take it that you haven’t heard then.”

“Heard what.” 

“That the prefect is leaving soon,” Ruggie walked around the room to pick up the miscellaneous items on the floor, unfazed under the lion’s relentless glare. “Crowley found a way to send them back to wherever they came from. They’ve already started packin’, emptying the building and all.”

The silence was heavy. A heavy cloak of tension draped over the room. 

“No,” Leona turned in his bed. “If they really were leaving, they would’ve told me.”

“Yea, but why?” Ruggie pushed, stifling a titter at the way Leona's tail swayed to and fro in growing agitation. “It’s not like you’re close or anything.”

Leona opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. A laugh startled out of him. “You’re fucking with me, Bucchi. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

"Whatever, man. I've said all I have to say." Ruggie took a peek of his meticulously concealed expression. It didn't matter that he wouldn't believe it now. He'd planted a fear in his heart, and fear was a vicious, powerful thing. He did one more round around the room, decided that Leona wasn't going to say anything else, and headed for the door. 

“Y’know, I’m just saying, but we don’t know when, or  if they will come back, so maybe you should get off that— okay! Stop throwing shit at me! ” Ruggie scurried out with his tail between his legs, cursing under his breath. 

“The things I do for these dumbasses… they better pay me ten donuts if it works– no, twenty!”

—

The blanket was starting to feel constricting. Leona kicked it off of him and reluctantly opened his eyes, now wide awake and ruminating on what Ruggie had just said.

You're leaving.

He rolled over and turned on his phone– something he almost never did. There were over a hundred unread emails and messages, mostly from home, but he ignored them all and found your contact after some scrolling. The last time you'd texted had been about his absence at the prefects' meeting, and he'd left you on read. In fact, the conversations were mostly one-way, with occasional 'ok's and insincere emojis dispersed on his side of the screen. 

It wasn't that you didn't talk a lot. You usually met up in person, and if he really needed you, he could just call you, though that was not an usual occurrence.

"It's not like you're close or anything." 

His eyes flew up to your status. Last online: 6 hours ago. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, then retreated. 

So what if you were really leaving? It shouldn't matter to him. You were just someone he tolerated more than most, and he'd known from the beginning that you didn't belong here. There had always been an expiration date on your stay. The horror of you suddenly vanishing from his life shouldn't be this hollowing. 

But it was very, very hollowing, and very, very real. Perhaps a part of him had always thought that everything would stay the same– you and him here, where he was far enough from home that he could forget his empty, meaningless title as the second prince, the unwanted son, where he could rest knowing that nothing, and no one, could take you away from him. 

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was nothing he could do, and he was destined to lose you the way he'd lost everything he'd ever wanted to someone else.

Or maybe– there was a tiny voice at the back of his head– maybe he still wanted to try and fight against it, as pointless as it sounded. Deep down, he only knew two things: that he would never forgive himself if he just let you slip away, and that you were always worth trying for.

Stupid herbivore, always planting this stupid hope in his heart. 

He all but hopped off the bed, and pointedly ignored Ruggie's smirk as he made a run for the mirror chamber.

–

Trapped on all sides with arms so sore you could barely lift them up, you reckoned that the decision to deal with all this by yourself was a great mistake.

There was old and new furniture occupying the spaces around you, and some more that were stuck on the porch, all demanding your attention. You’d naively thought that the unpacking and moving would take no time. And now it was dusk already, and you’d barely gone through half of the deliveries. 

After what had probably been months of requesting and protesting, Crowley finally allowed you to buy some new furniture for your dorm with the school’s money. It’d felt like winning a long, taxing battle, finally able to bid farewell to the drawers that wouldn’t open and the chairs that wobbled. 

It was all fine until the furniture came. You’d been in class when the driver rang, and by the time you returned, he'd already left, leaving the heavy boxes outside the door. 

Perhaps you really should’ve called some friends from Savanaclaw that were strong enough to help. Jack, for one. Maybe even the unmotivated dorm leader. Anyone would be a much better help than Grim, really, who was probably outside the building trying to claw his way into the unopened boxes. 

In the midst of your wallowing, you failed to pick up Grim’s sharp yell, only the slam of the front door that shook the whole building. A scolding formed on your tongue, but quickly dissolved when you heard heavy footsteps come up the stairs. Squeezing your way through the furnishings, you poked your head out of your room and waited.

The stomps came closer, stopped. A pause later, Leona came around the corner, mane disheveled and eyes flying around, almost in panic. When they landed on you, his shoulders sank in relief.

“Leona? Wh-”

“Thank the sevens,” He marched up to you in a few strides, and when he’s close enough, his arms suspended in the air, reaching for a part of you that he could touch. After a long moment, he stuck them back to his sides. 

Emerald eyes landed on the disastrous scene inside the room, especially the emptied shelves and belongings piled in a corner. Something strained passed over his features.

Once you got over the initial shock, you remembered what you’d just been thinking of. “Hey, now that you're here, do you think you can help me move-”

“Don’t leave.”

You blinked. “What?”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, brows knitted in a frown. “Don’t make me say it again… I can’t believe you decided to keep me in the dark.”

You looked inside the room and back at him. “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“What if it is for me?” With a gentle hesitation that you’d never seen him exhibit, he reached for your hand. Your heart skipped when he brought your knuckles to his lips, his gaze solely focused on you. He’d always loved lingering around your personal space, but not like this. Not with his feelings being put on display, like a show you weren’t supposed to see.

“I came here in such a rush that I didn’t even have time to think over what to say. Just…” he closed his eyes. “Reconsider your leave. Please. Or at the very least, stay for a few more weeks. You can’t just stumble into my life and leave without a sign. I don’t even want to imagine returning to a life without you. For this once, I need you to choose me.” 

And then, as if realizing his unusual display of vulnerability, his face hardened up. “...Look, I rarely ask anything of anyone. Whatever deadly grip you have on me, you gotta be responsible for it.”

You sucked in a breath, processing his abrupt spill of feelings, before lowering your head. For a moment he took the trembling of your shoulders as you crying, but soon enough he recognized the peals of laughter that fell out of you. If he hadn’t just laid his heart out in front of you, he would’ve taken the time to indulge in the sound that he loved so much.

“Is this funny?” He scowled.

“Mm. No,” you jutted your head towards your room. “Did you think I was leaving?”

Confusion passed over his face. “Of course. You have everything packed, and Crowley…”

He trailed off, the gears in his head turning. Suddenly it all became clear to him. The new stuff laying around. The absence of your clingy friends. The simple fact that no one seemed to know that you were 'leaving'. After a moment, something akin to fury dawned on his expression. “…has never actually been helpful. Damn it, Bucchi.”

Your heart dipped when he removed his hand from around your wrist, ruffling his long locks. “Just a house makeover then. Got it. Forget about it. Bye.”

“Wait, no!” You rushed in front of him, blocking his exit. “What about all the stuff you just said?”

He raised a brow, feigning ignorance, and earned a roll of your eyes, “Well, I’m not letting them slide. I’m not going anywhere, at least not yet.” You thought for a moment. “The truth is, I haven’t decide if I want to leave. I’ve built so much around here that it’ll just be like leaving another home. But if it soothes you, I’m sure the day I have to choose is still far away from us. So, in the meantime…” You reached for his hand in the same manner, kissing the knot of his knuckle. His ears twitched, giving away his carefully concealed emotions. “Let me be responsible for the turmoils in your heart?”

“About damn time.” Leona moved in, this time landing the kiss on your lips, and his smile spread into it easily, like a lovesick lover returning home.

[imaginecentralworld]

💎His Diamond💎

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

𓍯 Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

𓍯 Here's PART 1 and PART 2 - Don't skip ahead! Make sure you've caught up on the other chapters. This might be longer then the previous chapters, but trust me, it's totally worth the read!

𓍯 Summary: Lady Y/N, praised by the Queen for her grace and talent, captivates Anthony Bridgerton with her music at a lavish ball. Their emotional connection deepens as they share a heartfelt moment, signaling the beginning of a budding romance.

𓍯 Word Count: 750 (words), 4,174 (characters)

𓍯 This may be the final chapter for this romantic adventure with Anthony Bridgerton, but if we get this post at 200 notes, I'll take that as a sign to continue this story. Do you want to keep the love alive, dear readers?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden hues across the bustling streets of London, Y/N found herself standing in the grandeur of the royal palace. Nerves fluttered within her as she awaited her audience with the Queen, her mind swirling with questions and anticipation.

When the appointed hour arrived, Y/N was ushered into a lavishly adorned chamber where the Queen sat upon her throne, regal and imposing. With a gracious nod, the Queen beckoned Y/N closer, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"Your Majesty," Y/N began, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart, "I am deeply honored by your request for an audience."

The Queen regarded her with a knowing smile before speaking, her words carrying a weight of importance. "Lady Y/N, it has come to my attention that you possess a rare quality—a diamond amidst a sea of gems. Your grace, wit, and the melody of your harp have not gone unnoticed."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she absorbed the Queen's words, feeling a warmth spread through her veins. To be declared the diamond of the season by the highest authority in the land was a validation beyond her wildest dreams.

With a graceful bow, Y/N expressed her gratitude to the Queen, her heart brimming with newfound confidence and purpose.

As the night of the ball descended upon London, the grandeur of the occasion seemed to pale in comparison to the radiance of Lady Y/N. Adorned in an exquisite gown that shimmered like moonlight, she took her place at the harp, fingers dancing across the strings with practiced precision.

As the night wore on and the ballroom swirled with the elegant movements of dancers, Anthony Bridgerton found himself utterly captivated by Lady Y/N. With each graceful note she plucked from the harp, she seemed to cast a spell upon him, drawing him closer with an invisible thread of enchantment.

Their dance carried them across the polished floor, weaving through a sea of swirling skirts and polished shoes. Anthony's gaze never wavered from Y/N, his heart pounding with a fervor he could scarcely contain.

"Lady Y/N," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "since the moment I laid eyes on you, I have been entranced by your beauty, your spirit, your every breath."

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity of Anthony's words. She had known him for such a long time, yet in his eyes, she saw a depth of emotion that stirred something deep within her soul.

"Anthony," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, "I... I never imagined..."

But before she could utter another word, Anthony's hand gently cupped her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

"Y/N," he continued, his voice now filled with a raw vulnerability that took her breath away, "in your presence, I have found a light that guides me through the darkest of nights. You are my solace, my sanctuary, my everything."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she gazed into Anthony's, her heart overflowing with a love she had never known possible.

"Anthony," she whispered, her voice barely a breath, "I feel it too. With every beat of my heart, I feel it too."

And as they stood there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, bound together by a love that transcended time and space.

It was then, amidst the whispers of love and the gentle strains of music, that Anthony dropped to one knee, a small heart shaped box nestled in his palm.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you stand by my side, not just tonight, but for all the nights to come?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she beheld the man before her, his eyes alight with love and devotion. With a trembling hand, she reached out to touch his cheek, her heart overflowing with a joy beyond words.

"Yes, Anthony," she whispered, her voice a melody of love and longing, "yes, a thousand times yes."

And as Anthony slipped the ring onto her finger, sealing their love for all eternity, the world seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the dawn of a new chapter in their lives—a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the promise of forever.

[fredweasleysprostitute]

Like what you see // F.W

Summary: A summer beneath the heat allows you to bask in your pent-up feelings for Fred Weasley. But there's something holding you back. Is it really that wrong to fall for your best friends brother

Universe: Harry Potter

Rating: Mature

Warnings: a few spicy shots of Fred

Blue skies filled the air, clouds were nowhere to be seen. The flowers sought water as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were quick to replenish their soil, and the garden gnomes longed for shade as they huddled beneath a leafy tree. The blazing sun sent everyone into a heat stroke, but it was nothing like the effects of Fred Weasley.

You watched as he launched a quaffle through Ron's hoop, his muscles flexing as he did so. His forehead was lined up in a bead of sweat, while his large hands gripped the broomsticks, his smooth, toned abdomen perfectly glistening beneath the sun. He was quick to tug off his shirt when the game had first begun, leaving nothing to your imagination. It was rather annoying that one look from him was all you needed to send your heart rate sky high. You couldn't help but stare, his quidditch physique body was fucking perfect.

Faint laughter pulled you out from your daze as you finally turned around to find the culprits. Ginny and Hermione were giggling like mad at the sight of you. You felt your face grow warm, not doubting that you were a bright sade of pink.

"Ron's not gonna be real happy, Ginny teased, sipping on her glass of sweet tea.

Hermione began to laugh, "Seriously, y/n his older brother?"

"What in merlins name are you two on about?" You almost winced, you were a terrible liar.

"Don't be daft, y/n you were practically drooling" Ginny chimed, falling into another chim as your face turned blood red. You were positive you looked sunburnt by now.

"What's so funny?" Ron exclaimed, joining the three of you with his broom in his hand. The game was officially over, and the twins were sure to follow.

You sent daggers to Ginny's way.

"Probably your shitty plays," George mused, ruffling Ron's hair until it stood up from all ends. You noticed Hermione's cheeks like she wasn't exactly subtle either.

"I'll race you lot to the showers!" Another voice called out.

You froze right on the spot, your eyes darting everywhere but the sexy man before you. You cleared your throat, trying to return all of your senses back to your body. It was not working.

Ron's eyebrows thread together. He tilted his head to the side, asking you if you were alright. You nodded quickly, prompting him to continue his silent interrogation.

You felt his eyes burning holes into your forehead, praying to Merlin that Ginny would keep her face shut.

"Kids! Time for dinner!" Molly called, beckoning you all inside through the window.

You sucked in a breath when Fred stretched as Fred stretched, beginning to pull his shirt back on over his head. You felt your knees buckle.

Then suddenly, you were speeding through the tall grass, ignoring the confused looks that were bound to take place behind you.

Ron scratched his head as he watched you enter the burrow, growing more confused when his sister toppled over in laughter.

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

You found yourself, sighing finally content under the ruby sheets of Ginny's bed. Her walls were covered in posters, many of which featured the Chudley Cannons and the Holyhead Harpies. You also spotted The Cranberries and other muggle bands that Hermione introduced you too. There wasn't an inch of wall that was left bare.

Chatting with the girls had been going well. They seemed to have forgotten about the events of the afternoon, indulging in their shared bag of sweets while also discussing their plans for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. But when three readheads had decided to join you, two of which being the identical twins, you felt your heart begin to race once more.

Ron took the seat next to you, slightly offering you one of his chocolate frogs. You took it gratefully, sending him a smile in thanks. You could always rely on your best friend.

Sitting quietly between them all, you kept to yourself as they made conversation. You knew that if you opened your mouth even just an inch all eyes would be on you. After the stunt you pulled, you were sure that you would be bombarded with questions. And you did not have a death wish.

You found your eyes studying Fred, who was animatedly chatting with his brother. As usual, he and George seemed very excited to share about one of their newest joke products. You admired the dips and curves of his features, tracing each one of his freckles with your eyes. His smile caused your heart to flutter, and your lips to curve upward as well.

You jumped slightly when his eyes met yours.

His smile turned into a lazy smirk, that of a child who knows just how much trouble they've caused. He didn't look away, keeping his warm gaze on you as though he was enjoying the effect he had. You would have turned away, but the fear, the fear that was bubbling up in your chest left you panicking in your place. You were although rather glad when George wacked Fred up the side of his head.

"Oi!" Fred groaned, turning to his twin brother. "What was that for you git?"

"Ronald here, was asking you a question," George teased. You didn't miss the suggestive eyebrow wiggle he sent you. He was obviously amused.

Ron repeated his question. "How do you plan on opening the shop?"

"We've got tricks up our sleeves Ronniekins. Don't you even worry about us"

You giggled as Fred ruffled Ron's shaggy hair. Hiding in your blush as you munched on another chocolate frog. But you didn't miss the grin that Fred had sent you.

And unbeknownst to you, neither did Ron.

It had been five days. Five days of just sitting by the pond and admiring his soaking wet hair. Five days of staying up late after bed, just to hear Fred strumming on his guitar from across the hall. Five days of Fred's merciless, taunting, beautiful honey brown gaze.

You thought you would be a goner by now. Practically dropping dead when you caught him exiting the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.

But here you are, still living and breathing. Under the same roof as Fred Weasley.

You leaned your head into your palm, thinking hard before making your move on the chess board before you. You were seated uncomfortably on the living room floor, Ron on the other end while anxiously drumming his fingers against the coffee table.

"Queen to ES" you ordered, smiling proudly when you took out his knight. You looked up to bask in his downfall. But you were surprised, Ron didn't look defeated.

"You okay?" You chuckled, noticing the way he vigorously nodded his head. He, too was a shitty liar.

You sent him a knowing look as he manually moved his piece.

"You can be scary sometimes, did you know that?"

You only smiled, watching curiously as he turned around to examine his surroundings. He must have had a huge secret to tell.

"I know," he began, sending you a faint smirk.

You stared at him blankly, slowly tilting your head.

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, I know, I know about Fred."

Your eyes went wide, causing his smirk to grow. You felt as though your limbs had caught fire.

"Fred? What are you talking about, Ron?" You mumbled, ignoring his eyes as you reached to move your knight. Ron stopped you.

"It's okay," he smiled, casually sliding the game to the end of the table. He leaned forward on his elbows.

"If you think that I'm going to stop you, I won't," he continued, "although, it will always bewilder me that Fred, my brother, the boy who farted on the train in our first year, is the bloke you have chosen," He teased.

You spit out a laugh, thinking back on the found memory. 11 year old you would not believe that "Farting Fredrick" had become the most charming boy in all of Hogwarts. He was remembered as the boy who had vandalized the portraits and locked Filch in broom cupboards. But he was no longer the dork who would snuck bogey flavored beans into your Honeydukes bag and he had you falling hard.

"You know he fancies you too?" Ron chuckled, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I heard with George last night. He wouldn't shut up about you"

Peering out the window with wide eyes, you found a tall ginger sitting out in the yard. And that was all you needed to hear before racing out the door.

You took a deep breath in when you found him, having to remind yourself to stay calm in his presence. His hair was windswept, reminding you of the many times he would race down the corridors of the school. He seemed deep in thought, making the same twisted face that he would often do when he was designing new prank products. You absolutely adored it.

To your surprise, it wasn't very difficult to see Fred in a new light. It was as though you always thought him to be charming and handsome. Maybe these feelings were locked away somewhere. Or maybe you were just too terrified to let them free.

With a shaky breath, you marched over to his spot on the old, creaky bench.

Fred's eyes shot up, smiling when he found you. It was less cheeky then it usually was. You took that as a good sign.

"Why Hi, there," Fred chuckled, craning his head to get a better look at you, you often hid behind your hair, but he was quick to tuck it away. You felt your face heat immediately. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You felt a nervous laughter bubble in your chest. "You looked a little lonely."

"You sure you didn't just miss me?" Fred teased, shuffling closer to your side. "I am, of course quite the entertainer."

You rolled your eyes, opting to smile into the evening breeze.

"I have a secret." You mumbled, not daring to face him. "But I'll only tell you if you tell me a secret of your own."

You heard Fred laugh from beside you, feeling a sense of relief when he agreed.

If your theory was correct, and you were praying to Merlin that it was, Fred would confess everything that Ron had heard the night before. And it would be the end of the cat and mouse game.

"One," you began, trying to calm your racing heart. It didn't help that he was staring.

"Two," he continued biting back his smile.

"Three!"

"I can't stop thinking about you!"

"I've fancied you since my third year!"

You felt your eyes go wide, your mouth dropping open as your heart hammered against your chest. You weren't sure if you had heard him right. Since his third year?

And that was it for you two. It seemed as though you each seized the moment, pulling the other impossibility close as you closed the gap between you. It was passionate but soft, the way first kisses should be. And it felt good to finally know the feeling of his broad shoulders and large hands.

It was like he was chiselled by Godric himself.

He pulled back slightly, donning a dreamy smile as he mumbled against your lips, "we have an audience."

Your head whipped around, gasping as you found Ron, Ginny, Hermione and George gossiping through the window. You heard Ron scoff, shouting something along the lines of "if you hurt her I will bloody murder you!" Through the glass.

You giggled like a young school girl, turning to have Fred's breath clash with yours. You could finally admire his honey brown eyes from up close.

"Like what you see?" He smiled pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek.

"Don't worry" he chuckled "I do too"