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bettys-redwinesupernova · 6 months ago

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I GET YOU

rafe cameron x fem!reader

( moodboard does NOT depict readers appearance !! )

WARNINGS: none? i can’t really think of anything, just pure fluff! soft!rafe :’) maybe the slightest mention of worrying about what others think/fear of being judged? lmk if i missed anything !!

SUMMARY: rafe and weird!reader are one of the strangest couples in the obx. nobody has any clue how the cunning and cruel rafe cameron is dating the epitome of sunshine. but rafe just gets her, and she just gets him🫶

based on this ask !! i hope you enjoy 🍮🍒 anon, and i hope it was what you asked for, and i added in that the reader makes jewellery and collects sonny’s angels :) and sorry for the late post !! <3

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

THIRD PERSON +

The Outer Banks sun was blazing overhead as Y/N wandered down the streets of Kildare Island. The vibrant clinking of her many bracelets echoed softly in the quiet cul-de-sac as she adjusted her brightly colored tote bag over her shoulder. It was filled to the brim with craft supplies—beads of every color, rolls of thread, and the newest addition to her collection: two tiny Sonny’s Angels figurines she’d found at a small thrift shop on the mainland.

She was a walking burst of color. Her patchwork denim jeans were covered in hand-sewn floral patterns, her lime-green tank top layered over a long-sleeved baby tee, and her hair was adorned with barrette clips in the shape of stars and hearts. The contrast between her aesthetic and the neutral, coastal tones of the OBX locals was stark. She stuck out like a sore thumb—and she didn’t care.

And Rafe Cameron loved her for it.

From his perch on the porch steps of Tannyhill, Rafe’s blue eyes tracked her approach, his lips quirking into a soft, almost amused smile. He watched as she practically skipped up the gravel driveway, clutching her tote bag like it held treasure.

“Rafey!” she called out, her voice a melodic lilt that never failed to make his chest ache in the best way. “Guess what I found!”

He chuckled, standing up and brushing off his khaki shorts. “What, another one of those creepy little baby dolls?”

She gasped in mock outrage, clutching her heart. “They’re not creepy! They’re little angels, and they’re adorable. Look!” She yanked the two figurines from her bag and held them up like prized possessions. One was dressed as a strawberry, the other as a little chef.

Rafe leaned down, squinting at the tiny figures in her hands. “Yeah, adorable is one way to put it,” he teased, but his grin betrayed his words.

“Don’t be mean,” she said, poking his chest lightly. Her rings sparkled in the sunlight as she did so. “You just don’t understand their charm.”

“I don’t,” he admitted with a shrug, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest. “But I understand you, and that’s enough for me.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she buried her face in his chest. “You’re such a sap sometimes.”

“Only for you.”

The two of them stood like that for a moment, swaying slightly in the breeze. The Cameron estate was quiet; Ward and Rose were off on one of their trips, and Sarah was, well, doing whatever Sarah did these days. It left Rafe and Y/N in a little bubble of their own, untouched by the world’s judgments.

“You wanna help me make something?” Y/N asked, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“Make what?”

“A bracelet!” She stepped out of his arms, already rummaging through her bag. “I got these new beads, and I think they’d look great with your eyes.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You wanna make me a bracelet?”

“Why not?” she said, grinning. “It’s not like you’re gonna wear it in public or anything. Unless…” Her grin turned mischievous.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, though his tone was light.

She giggled, plopping down on the porch steps and spreading her supplies out like an artist preparing her canvas. Rafe followed, sitting beside her and watching as her nimble fingers worked to thread beads onto a piece of elastic.

“Why do you do this?” he asked after a while, his voice soft.

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestured to her array of beads, figurines, and tiny tools. “All of it. The bright clothes, the crafts… you’re not exactly like anyone else around here.”

She paused, looking up at him with a small smile. “Because it makes me happy,” she said simply. “I like colours. I like making things. It’s who I am.”

Rafe nodded, taking her answer in stride. He’d always admired her confidence in being herself, even when people whispered about her behind her back or shot her strange looks in town. It was a level of self-assuredness he wasn’t sure he’d ever reach.

“You know,” she said after a moment, stringing a star-shaped bead onto the bracelet, “a lot of people think it’s weird that we’re together.”

“They’re idiots.”

She laughed, a light, airy sound that made his heart swell. “I know that. But still… you’re Rafe Cameron. People expect you to date, like, the cheerleader type. Not someone who spends their weekends thrifting for doll clothes.”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, his fingers brushing against the plastic barrette clipped in her hair. “Let them think what they want,” he said firmly. “You make me happy. That’s all that matters.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re too good to me, Rafe Cameron.”

“Damn right I am,” he said with a smirk, though the teasing edge in his voice was softened by the way he gazed at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

She finished the bracelet a few minutes later, tying it off and holding it up for inspection. It was a mix of blue and white beads, with a single star charm in the center. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he said, letting her slide it onto his wrist. The contrast between the delicate bracelet and his rugged, calloused hands was almost laughable, but he wore it with pride.

“You look so cute,” she cooed, taking his hand in hers to admire her handiwork.

“Don’t push it,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting to the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. “You know, I used to think no one would ever get me,” she admitted quietly. “Like, really get me.”

Rafe turned his head to look at her, his expression softening. “I get you,” he said simply.

She smiled, tilting her head up to kiss him softly. “Yeah,” she whispered against his lips. “You do.”

The world around them seemed to fade away as they sat together on the porch steps, wrapped in their own little universe. It didn’t matter what the rest of the Outer Banks thought of them. They had each other, and that was more than enough.

For the first time in a long time, Rafe Cameron felt like he could be himself. And for Y/N, that was the greatest gift of all.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so so cute and so much fun to write !! i LOVE weird girl!reader soooo much and this was just the CUTEST🥹 i really hope this was what you wanted 🍮🍒 anon and i hope i got the aesthetics correct :) as always, please like and reblog as it means the WORLD to me <333

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #outer banks #bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#fluff #obx #rafe cameron x reader #bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x weird!reader #juminocore #heisei retro

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aphrodicci · 1 year ago

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ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴏʙꜱᴇʀᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ

follow for more content <3

paid chart readings

these are observations i've made due to people i've been around and celebrity charts i have looked at x

♇ scorpio placements like to be praised for everything they've done.

♇ online personalities who have really loud personas usually have a sag placements, ex berleezy, trap celeb, oli london, ekane etc...

♇ during a solar return chart having a stellium or more than 4+ planets in your 1h means you will REALLY be in your head, might face a lot of mental challenges.

♇ people with beneficial planets in their 9h ex jupiter or venus, specifically, usually do okay within in education, like no matter how back they are, they always pass

♇ pisces placements can RAMBLE and talk for a long time without actually saying anything.

♇ pisces mars men, the worst. the ones i've come across usually don't know what they want. but pisces mars women >>>

♇ aries degrees, specifically the 13th degree could insinuate you could be the first person to do something. janice dickson has the 25th degree and she is known as the first supermodel, beverly johnson has the 1st degree and is known as the first black supermodel, eva is the first black woman to win america's next top model and she has the 13th degree.

♇ sagittarius placements... laughing and smiling for no reason...

♇ leo moons and having hair that grows fast. for example, my brother and my nephew are both leo moons and they can cut their hair and a month later it grows back to their shoulders. i believe this could apply to 5H moons.

♇ those who have their 12h ruler conj or positively aspect their moon do become famous, [moon rules over audience] ariana grande has moon conj venus and megan has moon conj mars. if there's a negative aspect, it is still a fame indicator, but they would like get their fame after, for example chapelle roan who has moon square mercury.

♇ a lot of cancer asc men are insecure. the ones i know pity themselves so much too.

♇ much sag sun women like to dance, could be sag in big 6 + jupiter as well

♇ a fixed sign specifically scorpio in the 11h is a strong indicator of having a big online platform. but the one that is stronger than that is having moon in the 11h, most people that have this placement or even cancer in the 11h told me that they have a big platform.

♇ people with saturn or lilith in the 7h might be put into uncomfortable situations with their friend and their friends s/o, like their s/o might always likes them.

♇ uranus in 3h people might like to make up languages? or learn new ones

♇ your jupiter persona chart can talk to you about your future spouse as jupiter is the main planet to look at when it comes to your wife/husband.

♇ nara smith has jupiter in cancer and her spouse is very domestic and traditional, he even helped her give birth to their newest child, whimsy lou.

♇ dove cameron has a gemini ascendant with the 12th degree [pisces degree] probably why people say she has so many faces, she also has a heavy 8h which points to she got many procedures, khloe kardashian has a gemini moon and is also said to have many faces, also have pluto in the 8h.

♇ scorpio placements really dont like it when you enter their room all the time.

♇ a lot of dhanistha moon women have upturned eyes, or like to wear eyelashes that give them that look.

♇ people who have moon in the 11h do friend-crush a lot.

♇ aries venuses are the type to hate the people they crush on, their feelings can be quick changing but it is still intense!

♇ the reason some virgo and cancer ascendants are normally confused with each other is because they both have cat faces.

♇ its funny that when jupiter in taurus was at its peak which is the 29th degree, chef-influencers became more known on social media.

♇ people with a strong sag+virgo combination could be obsessed with perfecting their future

♇ people with scorpio/aries in their chart are likely to become alcoholics.

♇ saturn in cancer natives are likely to be less submissive to men.

♇ people with moon in the 11h or have cancer in their 11h tend to have big followers online [can work if the ruler of your 11h is in cancer]

♇ the "rumours" are true, aries venuses do get disinterested pretty quickly.

♇ the 6H in astrology can tell you what kind of skills you have, for example, if you have a venusian ruled 6H [Libra, Taurus, Venus in 6H], you could be talented a makeup, fashion etc.

+ the kalogeras sisters have leo/sun influence in their chart and they're known for their curly hair, [leo rules the mane].

pluto

paid chart readings

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yukkiji · 12 days ago

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taste like home

osamu miya never expected love to find him behind the counter of onigiri miya—until a girl from miyagi handed him her number during a volleyball match. what began with long-distance visits and late-night messages turned into quiet mornings, shared meals, and a life built side by side. now living nearby, he dreams of always cooking for her, and her always tasting—because some love stories are simple, steady, and meant to last.

haikyuu masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. miya osamu x fem!reader

genre: fluff, romance, timeskip!osamu, chef bf and taster gf

wc: 4.1k

author's note: i always imagined osamu having a s/o where he would always cook for them and would let them taste his newest creations in onigiri miya

the warmth of onigiri miya always made it hard for you to leave.

technically, it had become your second home ever since you started dating osamu miya—the former volleyball star turned onigiri restaurateur with a sharp mind for flavors and an even sharper way of knowing exactly how to hold you when the day had worn you thin.

here you were, sitting down on your usual stool behind the counter, right in that little space between the rice cooker and the stack of handwritten menus—close enough to watch him work, but far enough not to get in the way of the lunch rush he’d just wrapped up. the clatter had died down. the stools were empty now, save for yours, and soft music hummed low from the speaker he swore he never remembered turning on.

osamu was wiping down the cutting board, towel slung over his shoulder like always, apron dusted with grains of rice and streaks of miso. he didn’t say anything at first—just gave you that look. the one that said you’re here without needing to put it into words.

“you’re late,” he muttered, but his voice was gentle, teasing more than scolding.

you shrugged, chin resting in your hand as your eyes followed him behind the counter. “work held me. new team’s still getting the hang of things. i swear i answered the same email five times today.”

osamu didn’t answer right away—just huffed under his breath, the way he always did when you sounded too tired for your own good. then, without a word, he grabbed a small ceramic plate from the drying rack and walked over to where a fresh tray of onigiri rested, cooling slightly on the sideboard.

he picked up three—each wrapped slightly differently, seaweed folded with intention, each one marked with a tiny dot of colored seasoning on top like a secret code.

when he returned, he set the plate down in front of you like it was a course at a five-star restaurant, not something whipped up in a quiet corner shop in hyogo. “try these.”

you blinked. “all three?”

“all three,” he said, bracing both hands on the counter and leaning in slightly. “need you honest, though. not just the ‘you love me so it’s good’ answer.”

you smirked. “i always give honest feedback.”

“lies. you once said my umeboshi one was ‘an acquired taste’—that’s code for ‘i’m sufferin’ but i love you anyway.’”

you laughed, picking up the first one, identifiable by a dusting of furikake on top. “alright then, chef miya. let’s see what you’ve been up to.”

the first bite was comfort—a smooth blend of miso butter and sweet corn, surprisingly mellow. creamy, rich, but not heavy. you chewed thoughtfully, nodding.

“this tastes like… if autumn had a kitchen.”

osamu’s lips twitched. “miso corn butter. you like it?”

“like it enough to fight someone for the last one.”

he chuckled, clearly pleased, and gestured for you to try the second.

this one had a sliver of thin lemon peel tucked beneath the nori. the first bite hit sharp—pickled daikon and a touch of yuzu kosho, with a hint of grilled mackerel. bold. salty. clean.

you blinked. “okay. this one punches me in the face, but in a respectful way.”

“that’s the idea,” he said, clearly trying not to grin.

“name it something dramatic,” you said through another bite. “like… ‘breakup cleanse.’ or ‘kiss me after this and you’ll regret it.’”

he barked a laugh. “i’m not writin’ that on the chalkboard.”

“you’re no fun,” you teased.

finally, you reached for the third. it was smaller than the others, rolled slightly rounder, with no seaweed wrapping—just a glossy brush of soy on the rice. one bite in, and you paused.

then blinked.

then slowly looked up at him.

osamu raised an eyebrow. “too much?”

“it’s… sweet,” you said, brows furrowing. “but… smoky? and is that—?”

“caramelized onion,” he said. “mixed with katsuobushi. finished with black sugar glaze.”

you stared at him. “who hurt you?”

he shrugged. “felt like tryin’ somethin’ weird.”

you shook your head, still chewing. “weird. but addictive. i hate how good this is.”

he looked insufferably smug now, arms crossed over his chest. “so?”

you leaned back on the stool, tapping your lip. “the first is the safe choice. the second is for people who think wasabi’s too mainstream. the third…” you looked him straight in the eye, “is gonna start fights.”

“which one’s your favorite?”

you didn’t hesitate. “the third. but you already knew i’d say that.”

he nodded once, satisfied, then leaned over the counter until your knees bumped.

“you work too hard,” he said quietly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “let me take care of the rest of the night.”

“you mean feeding me until i can't move?”

he smirked. “exactly that.”

and just like that, the weight from your shoulders melted. you weren’t sure if it was the food, or his voice, or just the fact that he always knew how to meet you where you were—without asking for anything in return.

so you stayed. behind the counter, on your usual stool. picking apart rice grains with your fingers and feeding him bites in between cleaning up the shop. it was quiet. simple.

the kind of simple that only comes after everything else—after distance and longing and workdays spent apart. after months of phone calls, rushed trains, and bags packed in half an hour. after the ache of trying to make something real when miles stood in between.

funny how everything always circled back to that day.

your eyes drifted toward the storefront window, the hyogo dusk painting gold onto the floor, and your mind pulled back—to a year ago, in a city that used to feel like home.

sendai. kamei arena. the adlers vs. the jackals.

the stadium had been buzzing, a sea of noise and jersey colors, and you’d been there more out of obligation than genuine interest—invited by coworkers, not wanting to be the odd one out. the game itself had been intense, sure, but halfway through the second set, all you could think about was food. your stomach had growled loud enough to make the girl beside you glance over. you needed something, anything, to get you through the last two sets.

so during the break, you wandered out to the concession area—fully expecting overpriced hot dogs or soggy fries. but instead, tucked at the end of the row of pop-up food stalls, was a modest setup with a hand-painted banner that read:

onigiri miya – hyogo's own.

he wasn’t shouting like the others. no flashy signs, no mascot. just a man in a black t-shirt, a matching black cap tugged low over silver-streaked hair, and a crisp white apron wrapped around his waist, tied off like he barely noticed it anymore.

he stood there calmly, molding onigiri with practiced ease, his movements smooth and steady as the world around him bustled and clamored for attention. most of the ones on display were already gone—just a few scattered triangles left in the front case, their labels curling slightly at the corners, proof that word-of-mouth had clearly done its job before you even arrived.

but osamu didn’t rush.

he didn’t bark out specials or wave signs in people’s faces. he worked like a man who knew his food spoke louder than anything he could say. each rice ball was pressed with deliberate care, fingers moving like it was second nature—like he was doing something sacred, not just feeding a crowd.

even from a few feet away, you could see the focus etched into his features, the faint line between his brows, the way his mouth quirked thoughtfully whenever he tasted something off the back of a spoon. every so often, someone would try to ask for a substitution or an extra helping of filling, and he’d just glance up with those steady grey eyes and say, “trust me.”

and they did.

so did you. without realizing it, you’d stepped into the line, drawn in by more than the smell of grilled soy or the crackle of seaweed. it was something in the quiet confidence of him—how still he was in a place full of noise.

by the time it was your turn, he barely looked up, just asked, “what’ll it be?” while reaching for another sheet of nori.

you hesitated for a split second, just long enough for him to glance at you.

that was the moment everything tilted.

because when his eyes met yours—fleeting, unbothered, but sharp—you felt something catch in your chest.

there was no dramatic spark, no sweeping music in the background—just a quiet shift, like gravity adjusting without warning. he looked at you like he didn’t need to look long to know what kind of person you were. and maybe that was exactly what made your pulse stutter.

“grilled salmon,” you said suddenly, abandoning your original choice.

osamu blinked once. nodded.

“comin’ right up.”

he didn’t question the change, didn’t tease or smirk like most guys might’ve. he just reached for the next ball of rice, hands steady, eyes flicking down like he already knew exactly how you’d like it—lightly salted, crisped just a little on the outside, no extra sauce.

as he molded the rice, a small line formed between his brows—focused but relaxed. the cap shadowed part of his face, but you could still see the way his mouth moved slightly as he worked, murmuring something under his breath. a habit, maybe. you wondered if he talked to the food when no one was listening.

a minute later, he wrapped the finished onigiri in wax paper and slid it across the counter toward you. warm. perfectly shaped. his fingers brushed yours again—another second, another static jolt under your skin.

“first time tryin’ us?” he asked, voice casual.

you nodded. “didn’t plan on eating. but i smelled yours all the way from the stairs.”

that earned the faintest quirk of his lips.

“hope it lives up to the hype.”

you smiled, already taking the first bite. “if it doesn’t, i’m tracking you down after the game.”

he tilted his head. “bit dramatic, ain’t ya?”

“you’ll see.”

and you meant it.

you tore a napkin from the dispenser at the end of the stall, tugged a pen from your bag, and scribbled your number down without hesitation. the numbers bled slightly into the paper, your handwriting a little rushed but still clear.

you slid it across the counter toward him with the same ease you might’ve handed over spare change.

“if it does live up to the hype,” you said, meeting his gaze, “text me anyway.”

osamu looked at the napkin, then at you. there was a brief pause—measured, unreadable—but the corner of his mouth ticked up, slow and knowing, like he was already one step ahead.

“a bold move,” he said, eyes steady beneath the brim of his cap.

you shrugged, lips curving. “well, i can’t let this opportunity slide.”

he huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, the kind that said he was more amused than he’d let on. like he hadn’t expected that answer—but he liked it anyway.

“you always give your number to guys makin’ rice balls in crowded arenas?” he asked, one brow raised.

“only the ones who look like they know what they’re doing,” you said, tapping your half-eaten onigiri for emphasis. “and wear their aprons like they were born in one.”

his smirk twitched into something dangerously close to a smile. “careful. flattery might get you extra fillings next time.”

you leaned in a little, voice light but certain. “good. then i’ll see you next time.”

and with that, you gave him one last look—just long enough to linger—before walking away, warm rice still in hand, grin still tucked against your mouth.

behind you, osamu watched.

napkin folded in his apron. number already memorized.

a text came right after the game ended.

nothing fancy. no overthinking.

“still think it’s worth trackin’ me down?”

you were halfway through unlocking your front door when your phone buzzed, and the second you saw the unfamiliar number, you knew. no one else could’ve timed it that perfectly. no one else could’ve said just that.

you didn’t hesitate. you leaned against the frame, keys still in hand, thumbs moving on instinct.

“definitely.”

that was it.

no games. no waiting three days. just two people—separated by miles but tethered now by rice, timing, and something that felt like a beginning.

from there, it became a rhythm.

a photo of his new flavor, sent at 2 a.m. a blurry shot of your train window, captioned “hyogo-bound.”

a voice message from him, thick with sleep and kansai accent, muttering, “train again? ya sure i’m worth all this rice?”

and your reply: “you’re worth more than salmon and seaweed, samu.”

during free weekends, you always tried to hop on a train bound for hyogo—sometimes after work, sometimes at sunrise. more or less than 24 hours with him, depending on schedules, delays, how long you could get away with calling it “remote work.” even if it meant sleeping in the corner of his cozy little shop, wrapped in a borrowed blanket while he wiped down counters behind you, the hum of the fridge lulling you to sleep.

you never asked for much. just time. just him.

and he always made room for you in that space between his morning prep and late-night cleanup. sometimes you’d arrive and find a new flavor waiting—your name scribbled next to it on a sticky note taped to the glass display. sometimes he’d greet you with a nod and a cup of warm tea, tugging off his gloves before leaning across the counter and kissing your temple like it was nothing. like it was routine.

other times, you’d stay past closing—bare feet tucked beneath you on your usual stool, helping him fold napkins while he tested new fillings. you’d sneak him bites and steal some for yourself, laughing when he smacked your hand away with a lazy, “oi, that one ain’t even cooked yet.”

but he never minded. not really.

those visits were short, sweet, and stitched together with quiet moments that made it all worth it.

and when the weekend ended, and the train home came too soon, he'd walk you to the station if he could—hood up, hands deep in his coat pockets, eyes a little too soft under the streetlights.

“text me when ya get there,” he’d say, every single time.

“i always do.”

sometimes, there were weeks when the world got too loud. work piled up. meetings ran long. schedules clashed. the shinkansen felt too far, too much—for just a few hours with him.

you’d text him with a heavy heart, thumbs dragging over the words: “can’t make it this weekend. i’m sorry.”

he’d reply with a simple: “don’t worry. rest. i got ya.”

and sometimes, that was it. you’d assume he meant it literally—that he understood, that he’d wait. that he’d keep his side of the rhythm until you could pick it back up again.

but then you’d hear a knock on your apartment door late that night. or early the next morning. and there he was—osamu, standing just outside your door like it was the most natural thing in the world. hoodie pulled over his head, travel-wrinkled duffle slung over his shoulder. one hand in his pocket, the other holding up a neatly packed bento box wrapped in a cloth with little rice ball prints.

no words at first. just that small, knowing look of his. like he’d felt your exhaustion through the phone and didn’t want you eating convenience store food alone again.

“i brought yer favorites,” he’d say, nudging the box into your hands.

the first time he did it, you’d laughed and asked, “samu, did you seriously get on a train at six in the morning just to feed me?”

he’d just stepped past you, slipping off his shoes and tossing his bag by the door.

“nah. five-forty.”

the food was always warm when he arrived—miso-marinated fish, pickled veggies, rolled omelets the way you liked them, and of course, one perfect onigiri shaped the way only he made them.

you’d eat curled up beside him on the floor or on your small couch, sharing bites and leaning into his shoulder when your eyes got too heavy to stay open.

he never asked for anything in return. never acted like it was some grand gesture.

to him, it was simple.

if you couldn’t come to him—he’d come to you.

every time.

of course, there were moments—quiet, aching ones—when doubt crept in. long train rides. missed calls. holidays spent apart. you’d lie awake sometimes, wondering if it was sustainable, if something this good could really stretch across prefectures without tearing.

but osamu had a way of grounding you. of making the distance feel like a small detail instead of a mountain.

he never said too much—didn’t believe in grand speeches—but he showed up. always. with warm hands, a quiet laugh, and food packed with care like it was his love language (because it was).

even on your birthday.

you told him not to come. it was already late, the weather was awful, and you didn’t want him exhausting himself just for the sake of showing up. he said he’d stay put. you believed him.

until there was a knock on your door at 11:47 p.m.

you opened it, heart already racing, and there he was—drenched from the rain, holding a tiny cake box and a towel slung over his shoulder like he knew you'd scold him first. his voice was hoarse from the cold air, but his smirk was clear.

“told ya i’d stay put,” he said. “didn’t say where.”

that night, sitting cross-legged on your rug while sharing a too-sweet cake with plastic forks, the conversation slipped in like breath.

“samu,” you’d murmured, your voice half-laughing, half-tired, “what do you think… are we?”

he didn’t even blink.

“we’re literally dating at this point. probably married.”

you’d choked on the frosting, smacked his shoulder, but couldn’t stop smiling.

and just like that, it was official.

no fanfare. no fireworks. just a quiet agreement between hearts that had already been choosing each other for months.

but then—like fate finally decided to take your side—your company announced its expansion plans. to hyogo.

they said they needed someone capable, someone familiar with the region, someone who wouldn’t mind relocating.

it wasn’t even a decision. it was alignment.

and when you told osamu, he didn’t say much at first. just stared at you from across the counter in onigiri miya, like the rice might spill if he didn’t hold the emotion still.

then he walked around, wiped his hands on his apron, and pulled you into a hug that smelled like shiso and sea salt.

a few days later, osamu suggested—casually, like he was talking about the weather—that the two of you should just live together.

“you’re here now. would be easier if ya just moved in,” he said, setting down a tray of tamagoyaki like he hadn’t just dropped a life-altering sentence.

you’d blinked at him from your stool, halfway through sorting your spice rack.

“i just unpacked my boxes,” you replied with a dry laugh. “let me enjoy paying rent first.”

he snorted, unfazed. “don’t see the point in ya going home when yer already home.”

you smiled at that—softly, quietly. and yeah, a part of you wanted to say yes right there. but you didn’t. not because you didn��t want it—hell, you did—but because you still wanted to build something of your own first. have your own space, even if it was temporary. even if it was just down the street.

so you said, “not yet.” and he didn’t push. just gave a nod like he understood—because he did.

eventually, the two of you found a small apartment tucked into a quieter street just a few minutes’ walk from onigiri miya. it had creaky stairs and a balcony barely wide enough for two, but the light hit the kitchen just right in the mornings and it smelled like home within the week.

now, on slow afternoons, you’d stop by the shop just because you could. no train tickets, no suitcases—just a pair of house slippers by the counter with your name written on the soles in marker.

and osamu? he never said “i told you so.”

but every time you showed up—hair still damp from a shower, sleeves rolled, reaching for a rice ball—he’d give you that quiet, satisfied look.

like this was the part he’d always been waiting for. like maybe, this was the life he’d started shaping the moment you handed him your number on a napkin—creased and half-soaked from your drink, but carefully folded into the pocket of his apron like it was gold.

you caught him watching you sometimes when the shop slowed down—when the sound of the rice cooker humming was the loudest thing in the room. his eyes weren’t hungry or calculating. just… still. steady. as if he was memorizing you, again and again.

you, perched on your usual stool, picking the seaweed off your onigiri before taking a bite. you, humming some song under your breath while scribbling on a receipt pad. you, already reaching for the soy sauce bottle before he even asked if it needed more.

the shop had learned you. you had learned it. you’d even learned him—the way he never said everything, but always said enough.

and on nights like this, when the shutters were down and the last pot had been scrubbed, you both settled into the quiet like it was a blanket. some couples needed fireworks. you two just needed clean counters and leftover rice.

“samu,” you asked one night, your voice a little sleep-warm, cheek resting against the rolled-up sleeve of his flannel shirt, “did you ever think it’d end up like this?”

he didn’t answer right away. just breathed in deep, like he was still taking in the scent of miso and your shampoo. then he glanced down at you, lazy smirk forming like it always did when he was about to say something that’d stick.

“this is perfect,” he said simply. “just sayin’… still got time. might add a second shop. bigger kitchen. maybe even a ring—if yer not too busy workin’ overtime.”

your chest tightened—not with nerves, but with something heavier, warmer. hope, maybe. recognition.

but then his tone softened, and so did his expression. he leaned a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

“when you gave me your number, i knew i’d marry you someday,” he said. “not right away. eventually. knew you had your own thing to build. and i wanted you to. still do.”

the weight of his words settled over you like a quiet sunrise. no pressure. no rush. just the truth—his truth. he’d been choosing you from the beginning. not loudly. not with fireworks. but with presence. with every rice ball he wrapped. every train ride. every surprise visit. every “you okay?” when the world got too loud.

and maybe you didn’t answer—not with words, at least. because when you turned to him, leaned in and kissed him, it said everything.

it wasn’t urgent or rushed. just real. a quiet promise sealed between the taste of salt and tea and the lingering warmth of the shop.

he kissed you back with the same certainty he always carried behind the counter—with focus, with care. like loving you was a craft. something he’d chosen to get better at, day by day.

when you pulled apart, his hands stayed on your waist, thumbs brushing slow circles over your sides. he didn’t say much after that. didn’t need to.

but as you helped him store the last batch of leftover rice, you caught him glancing your way again—this time with something new in his eyes.

he looked around the shop—the neatly labeled containers, the dented trays, the sign you helped paint over last month—and then back to you.

“y’know,” he murmured, almost to himself, “i want this. all of it. you. me. this place. i wanna keep makin’ stuff for ya. new flavors, old ones—whatever comes to mind. i want you sittin’ there,” he nodded toward your stool, “tastin’ every single one.”

you smiled, the kind that curled slowly across your lips and settled into your chest.

“and i will,” you said, your voice quiet but certain. “as long as you keep making them.”

and just like that, it was settled. no rings, no grand declarations—yet.

just a kitchen, a counter, two bowls of leftover soup. and a love made of rice, patience, and the promise of always coming home to each other.

always.

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cherry-coffees · 9 days ago

Text

Caitlyn on your birthday hcs ♡

in celebration of my 19th bday!!!

cw: 1K words | nsfw under the cut

Caitlyn's celebration of your birthday starts the night before. She'll lay next to you in bed, gently running her long fingers through your hair, waiting for the clock to hit midnight. When it finally does, she pushes you onto your back, smiling at your surprised gasp. "Happy Birthday, my darling," she whispers before pressing kisses across your face.

Caitlyn's normally the one to wake you up in the mornings. She rises early, claiming she has to get to work, but she really just wants peaceful time with her tea and a book before the day starts. Thus, she doesn't like when you sleep the day away. She normally wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead and some food to appease your sleepy grumbles.

But on your birthday? Caitlyn lets you sleep however late you want. She doesn't touch any of her paperwork, opting to stay in bed next to you until you wake up. When you finally do, she's all over you, hugging you tightly until you impatiently tap at her shoulder so you can lean back and kiss her.

Caitlyn's a planner. Therefore, she's already planned your birthday several weeks in advance. As much as you love your girlfriend, you'd grown slightly annoyed at all her questions. "Darling, what would you like to do for your birthday? Should I arrange a car there? What would you like to eat? If you'd like a party, we could host one in the ballroom."

However, it's all worth it when the day comes. Caitlyn goes the extra mile: opening all doors for you and insisting that you wait until she can help you out of the car. The latte she brings you has intricate foam art, and in the middle of your outing, she places a beautifully woven flower crown on your head. "It's my darling's birthday," she coos at how cute you look. "I need to spoil you."

Caitlyn, to put it simply, buys you whatever you want. Clothes, jewelry, makeup, and even the newest hextech gadgets are neatly wrapped and placed in a pile in the living room. When your eyes widen at the unreleased hextech headphones, Caitlyn shrugs as if it's nothing. "Jayce dropped it off last night," she explains, gesturing to the gift pile. "There's a few more unreleased things somewhere in here. We can alert him if anything needs improvement." Whatever you want — it's yours.

Even if you don't want a party, Caitlyn insists on a small get together with the people you like. All your mutual friends (Jayce, Mel, etc) and all your friends come together for an evening to celebrate you. As you're pulled in many different directions, Caitlyn sticks to your side, soothing a hand over your arm or tucking an arm around your waist.

Caitlyn's never been much of a cook or a baker, having grown up with chefs who had done all of that for her, but she's willing to try it if it's what you'd like. She knows she'd just mess up your cake, so she arranges for the finest chefs in Piltover to bake whatever desserts you like. But when it comes to the cake, after all the baking's been done, she ensures that she is the one to write the message on top. "Happy Birthday, my love," is written across the top of the cake in neat lines of frosting. Caitlyn, to her credit, has neat handwriting despite her baking inabilities.

|------» ~~~ «------|

Caitlyn doesn't get you home too late, though. She has a separate set of plans for when you're alone — plans that involve her ravishing you.

She starts slow, easing you into it with her fingers and tongue. Even when you get whiny, begging for the strap that's sitting on the bedside table, Caitlyn shushes you. "You'll get it, darling, but you have to be patient. You trust me, right? You trust me to make you feel so good?"

After you come twice, Caitlyn pushes your legs to spread even more, slipping on the hexstrap like it's natural. You gasp when she pushes into her, gripping her shoulders like she's a lifeline you're holding onto. Maybe she is. "Are you okay?" Caitlyn squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to lose it because she's still a gentlewoman — she always checks in with you before she gives up her composure.

When you assure her, Caitlyn immediately thrusts into you. She aims for all those spots inside you: the spots that make you arch off the bed as you see stars. Her training over the years has given your incredible strength, so she has no issue slamming into you as you cry out beneath her. She claims it gives her more stamina to see her beloved girlfriend writhing beneath her.

After you come once more, she flips you over, determined to draw another orgasm from you before the exhaustion hits. The new angle allows her better access to your sopping cunt, and she can hear how slick you are with your fluids when she's railing you from behind. Groans, too, as the strap stimulates her clit just right. When you come again, it's in unison, Caitlyn moving beside you as she pants.

A minute or two after recovering, Caitlyn stands, going into her bathroom before coming back into the bedroom with a wet cloth. She gently cleans between your legs, cooing at the whimper that escapes you. Caitlyn soothes your shaking legs before pulling you into her arms. "Happy Birthday, love," she murmurs, tangling her body with yours under her silken sheets. "Another year of loving you."

ITS MY BIRTHDAY!! I AM 19 YIPPEE!!! My present to you all ♡

~Cherry 🍒

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heartfullofleeches · 4 months ago

Note

bunny, catboy, snake and puppy streamer darling do a collab together (housepet streamers or smth) and the live chat has to be turned off because of the atrocities being said lmao love your work by the way bro

(Written fron Snake's Pov bc they're the newest and I haven't done much for them yet - and because they're the flirt of the bunch so yk they're starting trouble)

"Housepet" Darlings Collab Stream Blurb

What an amusing dilemma you, and your newfound acquaintances have found yourselves ensnared in-

"Get that messy ass cat away from my precious snake before they claw my angel to death with those untrimmed talons!"

It's one thing when their degeneracy is targeted exclusively at you, but packed in a room with peers lusted after by like-minded audiences - there is little filter to the insistent obscenities flying from their keyboard.

"Aye! Don't be a dick! I think they should get closer. Close enough to kiss.. ^3^"

"Sloppy makeouts- NOW!"

"Strong puppy, adorable bunny, feisty kitty, and a naughty snake. I wanna keep you all locked up in my house where I'd keep you well fed and we'd snuggle all day and-"

"Ugh- Can someone turn off that text-to-speech already? This is exactly why I removed that crap ages ago."

Slamming their whisk down on the counter, your feline companion hisses in vexation as they scrub cake frosting from their cheek. Noticing a spot they missed, you take the opportunity to rally up the ever growing population of viewers - sweeping your thumb across their skin before popping it in your mouth with a small, appeased hum.

"Delicious-"

The responses to your little display are lightening quick.

"Do it again. With your tongue this time."

"Bunny needs some help cleaning up too! I think you all need to take a bath. With me ♡."

"KISS EACH OTHER! SWAP SPIT AND THEN SELL IT TO YOUR LOYAL FANS SO WE CAN HAVE A TASTE OF ALL FOUR OF YOU AT ONCE!"

The timid rabbit chef ducks behind your taller figure, burying their tiny, pink nose in your shoulder. "M-maybe we should turn the comments off... Just f-for a little while!"

"If that's what makes you comfortable, my darling-" Smile warm as the oven's swelter, you pat the shorter animals head. "You are the one in charge of our little gathering after all."

"Haha! Don't leave me out of this!"

Dunking their hand directly into the bowl, the canine darts various points of their face in frosting - arms spreading in invitation for all of their new friends.

"Ready and eager for kisses from my new best buds!"

The cat recoils as puppy's shadow devours them -crawling on top of the counter for good measure. "Not happening."

"Come here, you." Holding them by the scruff of their neck, your forked tongue flickers against the dog's jaw as they chuckle from the feathery sensation. Their brawny arms lift you to help you reach more areas of their face as their wagging tail hammers against the counter. Eyes from the cat and bunny entranced by the friendly display of affection maintain the bliss of the unknown as the feline discreetly turns off the chat - hundreds upon thousands of calls demanding for the same love to be shared left unheard.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #hybrid reader #streamer reader #yandere writing

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ariazcherrycoke · 5 months ago

Text

Dating The Radio Demon HCS

Disclaimer: Yes, I know he is canonically asexual. These are just headcanons! Will contain NSFW,

MDNI!!

❤️ || - He won't ever admit it, but absolutely loves it when you play with his hair. It makes him a little less insecure about his deer features, since you clearly like them.

🖤 || - He is NOT afraid to tease you, or rile you up purposefully throughout the day. He's a very perceptive man, he knows exactly what you like. Yet of course he won't deny you later at night, what kind of gentleman would he be to deny his darling of their needs?

🤍 || - Switch. You can not tell me he wouldn't do either. Of course he prefers top, and would top for the first time. But after you've been dating for a few years, he'll trust you enough to take the lead. Of course whenever that happens he could easily regain it, but.. well, he'll never EVER admit it, but he loves when you top. At first he was skeptical, but it felt amazing. He's a sucker for attention, so feeling you hopelessly touch him all over, and how he can practically taste the affection in your fingers. Oh, he loves that.

❤ || - Cooks. You could be the best chef in all of Hell, but he'll still insist on cooking. It was simply how his Mama raised him, besides.. He prefers food when he knows exactly what goes in there. He trusts you, of course. It just.. he needs to know. It's just something about his twisted mind, but you accept it. There's a lot of things with him you understand you'll never be able to wrap your head around.

🖤 || - He definitely does aftercare. He needs to make sure his darling is alright after all, it's how he shows his love. If he topped he will pick you up and wash you, yet tease you if you're sore. He can't help it, he IS still a sadistic power-hungry sinner after all. But if you topped, he would prefer you to help him wash but is fine with cuddling. He definitely doesn't like staying dirty, but if you just cuddle him he won't mind. Your touch is more then enough, and he would never admit it but his body gets very clingy after sex. He isn't used to doing it after all, but he still tries to not seem too clingy.

🤍 || - He has money, no doubt. Only the fanciest restaurants for dates, those and speakeasies. Specifically the ones without Mimzy, he'd prefer her not pining for his attention while out with his darling. Wherever you want to go, he'll go. Want to go to the newest place in Pentagram City? He's already got a reservation. Want that beautiful new dress you eyed the other day? Check your drawer.

❤ || - Loves to absolutely adore you, no matter where. Your attention for his pampering? Now that sounds like the most enticing deal he's heard all day.

🖤 || - Would he cheat? No. Moving on. Seriously though, it already surprised him how you managed to catch his attention, he's not an easy sinner to woe. His heart unfortunately is all yours to use how you please, something that both worries and excites him. If something were to ever happen to you, he still wouldn't be able to ever love again.

🤍 || - Isn't the biggest fan of PDA. Holding holding, kissing your hand, and perhaps little face pecks is all. In private, his body is yours to use. Yet in public, he won't let you go too far. He still has a reputation to uphold, after all.

❤ || - Hah, no one can resist The Radio Demon, not even you. Obviously. Yet he's glad you did, you showed him someone can care for him down here. He acts like he doesn't want it, doesn't need to be looked after. But maybe one day he'll put aside his pride and thank you. Thank you for looking over him from fully losing his sanity. Thank you..

for caring.

Even when he didn't ask you to.

#alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor #hazbin alastor #x reader #headcanon #headcanons #hazbin #hazbin hotel #vivziepop

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honeydjarin · 2 years ago

Text

MOUSE IN THE KITCHEN

OPLA SANJI X SHORT!READER

Luffy isn’t the only one with a penchant for sneaking into the kitchen.

request: Hiii, if you want to I'd like to request a Sanji x short reader, where they try and help him out in the kitchen but can't reach anything. No pressure, just wondering

genre: fluff

word count: 2,000

a/n: normally I avoid any sort of specific physical features in my fics in order to make them as inclusive as possible, but as someone who must climb the shelves at the grocery store in order to reach anything, this request spoke to me. This one is a little silly and nothing but fluff. I hope you enjoy!

It’s late. The sun sank below the horizon long ago, leaving no trace of the adventures and games that took place during the daylight hours. Everyone else on the Going Merry is asleep. You really should be sleeping too, and you had been, not too long ago.

You don’t know what it is that stirred you from your slumber. Perhaps some noise as the ship rocks on lazy waves, or a crew mate talking just a bit too loud in their sleep. It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter is the thoughts that worm their way into your mind the longer you lie awake. Thoughts of something light, something sweet, something to satiate a craving, your body convinced it’s time for breakfast despite your mind knowing dawn is hours away. It doesn’t take long for the hollow ache in your stomach to drive you from the comfort of your hammock and up towards the galley.

You know the kitchen on the ship well. You know which floorboards creak and which are safe to step on, where the chef hides traps for Luffy and how to circumvent them, where all of the ingredients to satiate your sweet tooth are hiding.

Just thinking about the reason for your intimate knowledge of the ship’s kitchen is enough to send heat racing up your neck and settling beneath your cheeks. You press your fingers to the skin where your burning blood pools beneath the surface, taking a moment to relish in the sugar sweet feeling of a simple crush—a single name swirling through your brain is all it takes to leave you giggling quietly in the night.

Sanji, the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew. Sanji, the one who will never let another go hungry, not even a stranger. Sanji, the man with sun soaked hair and a honey dipped tongue.

Sanji.

When the chef first joined the crew, you admired him. He was caring and steady, he knew what he believed in. With his handsome looks, quick wit, and open flirtations, it didn’t take long for that admiration to slip into something that felt sweetly like affection. You couldn’t help but want to spend more time with the cook, hoping to join him in the activities that bring him the most joy so that you might better understand him. It didn’t take long for you to become nearly as familiar with the galley as he is.

You step into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind you. You leave the lights off, not wanting to risk anyone else catching you in the galley (or getting the idea to grab a snack themselves). Instead, you stand in the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Moonlight spills through the windows of the room, bright enough to see by, if you’re patient.

It isn’t long before you’re able to move again, walking along a familiar path towards where Sanji stores all things sugary.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Like if you have to sneak around then you’re in a place you don’t belong. This is Sanji’s space, cataloged and organized to best suit his needs and ensure the crew has enough supplies to last between islands. It feels strange to be in the kitchen without the sound of his laughter or the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove top.

Sanji’s presence is the piece that makes this space feel so comfortable. Without him, it feels too large, hollow. The galley has no life without its chef. You never really thought about how the kitchen would feel without him in it, and can’t help but hope it isn’t a feeling you become used to.

You know if you wake up the cook he will make something for you. He would rub the sleep from his eyes, only half succeeding, before asking what he could make to help satiate your craving with a smile. You would feel guilty the whole time.

It’s better to sneak through the galley for something you can find on your own than to disturb Sanji’s sleep.

The first thing you search for is chocolate. You crawl onto the countertop, balancing on your knees as your feet dangle over the edge, before opening the cabinet in front of you. You eye the chocolate chips, the miniature sweets sitting at a level seemingly so easy for the rest of the crew to grab. You doubt any of the others would have to climb to reach them.

Unfortunately, the only chocolate on the shelf is unsweetened. The lack of added sugar may be perfect for baking, but they won’t be sweet enough for your taste on their own.

You begin to drop down from the countertop, fully intending to continue your search for the perfect treat. Your feet drop to the ground quietly, and you land in an almost crouch. Perfect, the ship is silent, as it should be. You straighten up, intending to continue your search, but your knees, still tight from your recent slumber, crack as you stand. The sound rings out in the otherwise silent kitchen like a gunshot.

Maybe your creaking joints wouldn’t be a problem in a normal kitchen, but Sanji, who has ears attuned to any slight sound coming from the Galley (thanks to Luffy’s many attempts to raid the space at odd hours for food), surely heard the pop in his sleep. You may as well have knocked down all of the pots and shattered all of the dishes.

It isn’t long before the sound of hurried footsteps and frustrated grumbling reaches your ears. The door to the galley slams open, lights flickering on just a moment after, leaving you squinting as your eyes adjust to the room once more.

“Luffy, I swear if you touched any of the food I’ll—oh.” Sanji’s voice carries through the kitchen, his accent thicker than normal, sleep still clinging to his words. Your name rolls off his tongue, and you think it sounds sweeter in his sleep-addled voice than any chocolate could taste.

“Sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just a little hungry,” you confess.

“You could have woken me up,” he says, just like you knew he would. “I’d have been happy to cook something for you.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You deserve to rest. Especially when you already wake up so early each morning to make breakfast.”

Sanji hums, stepping farther into the kitchen. He looks more awake now than he did when he first arrived. His eyes don’t stray from your own as he speaks, no longer concerned about the state of the galley.

“For you, love, it’s never a bother.” The smile he offers you sends your heart fluttering in your chest. “Anyway, I’m awake now. What would you like to eat?”

He’s too good to you, too gentle. How could your heart ever stand a chance?

“I was just planning on eating a little chocolate, but it seems like there's only the unsweetened kind right now.”

“Ah, of course. Only something sweet would be fitting for my sweetheart.”

Your breath catches in your throat. His. He called you his.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the growing grin that spreads on your lips as you nearly melt from his words. The warmth blossoming in your chest will surely turn you into a puddle on the floor, and then Sanji will know just how much his words affect you (if he doesn’t know already).

“Can we make something with chocolate in it?” you ask.

“We?” Sanji repeats, as if he didn’t expect you to help him in this task. His gaze softens, eyes gleaming with something like affection, before adding. “Of course we can. How do strawberry and chocolate hand pies sound? I picked up some fresh jam at the last port.”

“It sounds perfect,” you say. It’s far more than you hoped to find during your late night search. When you got out of bed, you never would have guessed what kind of sweet you would find in the kitchen. You definitely didn’t expect to spend time baking with Sanji.

The two of you work comfortably together, only speaking when Sanji provides specific instructions or when you need clarification. The hazy fog of sleep still hovers over the both of you, even if you’re both awake enough now to function.

“Could you grab the chocolate chips for me?” Sanji asks.

It’s a simple request, one you can easily complete. You know where he keeps the chocolate chips, the unsweetened treat seeming much more appealing now that they’re going to be baked into something.

You make your way back over to the counter, situating yourself below the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. Then, you place your hands on the cool surface, preparing to make the climb. You’re certain Sanji knew this was the path necessary for you to take to reach the ingredient too. There’s no way for you to reach the chocolate chips without being higher up.

As you jump, using the force of your arms to help pull yourself up towards the counter just like you’ve done in other kitchens many times before, an unexpected force settles on your shoulders, pushing your feet back towards the ground.

“None of that, sweetheart. There will be no climbing on the countertops in my kitchen,” Sanji reprimands. He’s gentle in his scolding, the uptick of his lips and gleam in his eye letting you know he’s not really mad. “Sorry, I thought they were a bit lower.”

He doesn’t seem sorry.

You open your mouth to protest against what could only be meant as a jab about your height, but only a squeak comes out. Sanji’s warmth seeps into your back as he presses close, the shape of his hand burning into your hip as it settles there. You can feel the way his body stretches as he reaches up, leaning further into you, before easily grabbing the bag that seemed so far out of your reach. Any words you might have had to tell off the man for doing something for you when you could easily do the task yourself (as long as you could climb on the counter) fizzle out.

Sanji doesn’t look at you as he reaches for the chocolate, but the easy smile on his lips morphs into a lazy smirk. His thumb rubs slow, intentional circles where his hand remains steady on your hip, as if he was soothing a startled animal, coaxing you to stay close instead of running away, something you just might have done if he wasn’t purposefully grounding you while your thoughts soared.

Oh no, you think. He knows.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Sanji was already aware of your feelings for him—you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve—but you had tried not to make your feelings for the chef too obvious.

Sanji pulls the chocolate chips down, but he doesn’t step away. He still holds you close as he bends, his face lowering until it’s right beside yours. Then, without warning, his lips are pressed to the curve of your cheek.

The kiss is quick, feather-light, but you’re certain he can feel the way your blood burns just beneath the surface of your skin, his quiet mumble of so warm the only confirmation you need, even if you weren’t meant to hear.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I just couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, Sanji steps away from you, taking you in for only a moment longer before turning back to the task at hand. With how smoothly he acted, there’s no way he hadn’t planned that little stunt he pulled.

He definitely knows.

Sanji is already placing the hand pies in the oven by the time you’re finally able to move again, and you can’t help but feel almost frustrated that the chef didn’t give you a chance to return his affection.

You’re left waiting impatiently as he sets the timer, the miniature pies now the last thing on your mind. Sanji doesn’t seem to understand—you’re craving something sweet, and as far as you’re concerned, the sweetest thing on this ship is him.

a/n: thank you for reading〜♡

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla sanji x you #opla x you #opla #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece live action

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 days ago

Note

Who are some of your favorite Aemond writers? I am always looking out for new people but the tumblr algorithm is very bad

Hello!

Tumblr is blessedly algorithm free - it's one of the only social media sites left that will show you posts chronologically, rather than force what it deems most relevant to you to the top of your feed first. To ensure the best viewing experience for your dashboard, amend your dashboard preference settings to the following, and ensure you're scrolling the "following" tab and not the "for you" tab:

(Essentially, all but the final option should be toggled off)

Similarly, when browsing tags, look at "latest" instead of "top posts" and you'll see newest to oldest posts first.

Here is a list of all of the Aemond authors I currently follow: (beneath a cut, because it's a lengthy list)

@starvulture (not currently active in fandom, but has some x reader bangers)

@levithestripper (not currently active, but again, has some good stuff, plus a really good Tom Bennett fic, if you're into him)

@bronze-furys (mostly Gwayne and Cregan fics, but there's some Aemond stuff too)

@marthawrites (Midnight Passages slaps so hard)

@exitpursuedbyavulcan (entire masterlist is *chef's kiss*)

@st-eve-barnes (not actively writing at present, but has lots of great stuff to read)

@asa-do-your-thing (writes for an entire host of ASOIAF characters, but there's some Aemond sprinkled in there)

@lya-dustin (has a couple x oc long fics on her masterlist)

@happilyhertale (predominately Daemon, but also writes for Aemond and Tom Bennett)

@ripdragonbeans (mostly modern Aemond fics)

@flowerandblood (Hagi's masterlist is really more of a library - lots of gems for you to read)

@ultraintrovertedgryffindor (not really active anyway, but has some really good fics on her masterlist)

@toms-cherry-trees (a few really good one shots)

@in-a-mountain-pool (selfishly stopped writing in pursuit of attaining advanced degrees - please bully her in the comments of her WIPs to come back - STEM is temporary, fan fiction is forever)

@foxinthegodswood (no longer active in fandom, but all of her Aemond fics on AO3 - username: acrossthesestars - are genuine masterpieces)

@peachessndreamss (another creator that ought to be bullied back into writing, if we're being perfectly honest)

@kate-mccannon (recently started her first OC fic, go and cheer her on in the comments)

@huramuna (Aemond x oc fic - on hiatus, but what is there is great)

@almondmilktargaryen (lots of great stuff on their masterlist)

@the-dendrophile-bookdragon (again, masterlist is enormous, go nuts)

@lauraneedstochill (hasn't written for Aemond in a while, but has some really lovely stories)

@targaryenrealnessdarling (a fandom staple, needs no introduction)

@thought--bubble (Jess has written loads, and if you pester her with comments and reblogs, perhaps she will write more)

@yoursweetheartsrevenge (a really varied masterlist with lots of choice)

@sepherinaspoppies (lots of series to read, some still ongoing)

@mourning-sapphire (very active in fandom, posts decently sized chapter updates, very good)

Apologies to anyone I have accidentally overlooked! This was pulled together from a quick skim of the people I am following.

#asked and answered

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itoshiabi · 1 month ago

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!Bllk Boys finding out you write about other anime characters on Tumblr!

Pt.1- Isagi, Bachira, Sae

Pt- 2- here

Pt- 3- here

ISAGI YOICHI

It was just another quiet afternoon at Isagi's place. You were in the shower, steam curling around the tiles, when your phone buzzed loudly on the kitchen table. Isagi glanced over and saw "Mom" flashing on the screen.

Being the good boyfriend he was, he answered with a polite, "Hello? Oh! Yes, ma'am, it's Yoichi. She's just in the shower right now."

He chatted smoothly, like always—humble, respectful, and just the right amount of charm. Within minutes, he'd earned your mom's blessing to let you stay the night. Again.

With a small grin, he was just about to set your phone down when a notification lit up the screen.

"Congratulations! You've got 100k likes!!!"

He blinked. A proud smile tugged at his lips. He knew you were into writing anime analysis on Tumblr, and even though you always waved it off as "nerdy essays," he genuinely admired your passion. He'd never snooped—he respected your space—but today was clearly a big deal.

Curiosity got the best of him.

He tapped the notification and was taken straight to your Tumblr profile. His brow furrowed slightly at the username:

Mrs. Yagami?!

He scrolled.

Post #1:

"Every time Light writes in the Death Note, I melt. That insane smirk, the god complex, the pure intelligence. Literally chef's kiss."

He blinked.

Post #2:

"Kira's moral decay only makes him hotter. I'd let him judge me. Honestly, I'd thank him for it."

He stared blankly at your phone, lips parting slightly in disbelief.

16,000 followers.

Dozens of posts.

All thirsting after… a fictional mass murderer.

Just then, the bathroom door opened. You stepped out, towel around your hair, humming softly—only to freeze at the sight of Isagi holding up your phone like it was a crime scene photo.

"Is this why you always say you love 'guys with plans'?"

Your heart dropped.

"Yoichi......"

His voice was filled with disbelief. "You'd let Kira use you?"

He looked genuinely wounded, like you'd just passed the ball to the opposing team during the final seconds of a tied game.

You winced. "Okay, it's not like that—"

"I literally study strategy, analyze match data and create counter plays!" he said, dramatically gesturing to himself. "Where's my blog post?"

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. "He writes names in calligraphy. It's hot."

Isagi squinted at you like you'd just personally offended every footballer alive. "I write goals on the scoreboard."

"And you look really cute doing it."

That shut him up for a second. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"I'm not mad," he mumbled. "I think it's cool you write. And that so many people love your stuff. But you could've told me about… your taste in fictional guys. I could've at least tried to compete."

You smiled and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Okay. So tell me—who's smarter? You, or Light Yagami?"

Isagi tilted his head, thoughtful. "Light didn't even realize L was sitting across from him the whole time. I'd have figured that out in, like, five minutes."

"Exactly," you said with a smirk.

He grinned proudly, but still handed your phone back with a little pout. "Write a post about me next. Title it… I don't know… 'Yoichi Yagami would never kill me.'"

You laughed, kissing his cheek. "Deal."

BACHIRA MEGURU

Bachira was in the kitchen, happily humming to himself while blending up a smoothie. Fruit chunks danced in the blender as he swayed to his own rhythm.

Your phone buzzed on the counter.

He glanced over casually, wiping his hands on a towel.

"@narutosrealwifey just posted: 'Imagine Naruto holding your hand during a battle… sigh.'"

His head tilted. Curiosity piqued, he tapped the notification. A bright, orange-themed blog popped up. Naruto gifs bounced across the screen, and right at the top was your newest post:

"He's sunshine. He'd fight the world for me and still smile like a golden retriever. Naruto is the blueprint."

Bachira blinked as he scrolled down.

"I'd marry Naruto in a ramen shop and raise ninja babies."

He stared at your phone like it had betrayed him.

That's when you walked back in, grocery bags in hand, only to find your boyfriend squinting at your screen like he'd discovered a plot twist.

"You're cheating on me… with an anime ninja?"

You set the bags down and burst out laughing. "What?"

He pointed dramatically at the phone. "You called him sunshine. But I'm your only sunshine!"

You tried to keep a straight face. "You are, but Naruto's a sunshine with trauma. And he still smiles through it."

Bachira looked personally offended. "I could have trauma! I'd smile through it too!"

You raised an eyebrow. "Bachira......"

"I'll stop smiling for a week!" he declared. "I'll wear black and sulk in dark corners! I'll brood!"

You snorted. "You'd start humming halfway through a villain monologue."

"Okay, true," he admitted.

Then, as if struck by inspiration, he grabbed a ladle and dramatically stuck it on his head like a makeshift headband.

"I'll be your Hokage," he declared, puffing out his chest. "Believe it, dattebayo!"

You collapsed into giggles. "Bachira, You're ridiculous."

He grinned brightly, the "sunshine" you knew and loved.

"Yeah," he said, leaning closer with a wink, "But I'm your ridiculous sunshine."

SAE ITOSHI

Sae wasn't one to pry. He respected your space, rarely even glanced at your notifications. But when your tablet buzzed beside him while you were in the shower, a headline on the lock screen caught his eye:

"Suguru Geto Supremacy: Why I'd Let a Sorcerer Break My Heart."

He raised an eyebrow.

Without much thought, he unlocked the screen—your password was easy, just his jersey number—and the blog loaded instantly.

Post #1:

"Geto is tragic, powerful, and quietly intense. He's impossible not to love. I'd let him destroy me with a single look."

Sae blinked once. Then scrolled.

Post #2:

"A man who believes in broken ideals and still walks forward? Yes, please. Also: ridiculously hot."

You walked out of the bathroom moments later, towel over your shoulders, and noticed him silently staring at the screen.

"You said what about a dead villain?" he asked flatly, still scrolling.

You cringed. "Oh. You found that."

He didn't look up. "You have a whole blog about him."

You laughed nervously. "It's just for fun. Analysis. Fan stuff."

"And you date me?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. You're the emotionally distant version with better hair."

That made him scoff—just barely, but you caught it.

"He's a villain. He dies."

You shrugged as you grabbed a hair tie. "He dies hot."

Sae shut the tablet and stood. "Unbelievable."

He walked off, hands in his pockets.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed.

[Sae]: Hope you enjoy emotionally unavailable men. I'm ignoring you for the next six hours.

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

He lasted thirteen minutes.

He returned, casually leaned against the doorframe, and muttered, "You really think his hair's better than mine?"

You grinned. "Not even close."

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letsgetrowdy43 · 10 months ago

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Perfect in all your glory—

Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞: "I like how obsessed with me you are," A smiles. "Makes me feel like the most important person in the whole world." Can I request this, but with a little back story that the reader is plus-sized, can you also do both versions with Luke and Quinn Hughes?"

Warnings/notes: So, I decided to do it with Luke cause I thought of a concept and needed to write it, 🫣 but sadly I have so many requests to fulfill that I don't have time atm to do the prompt with both, but if I have time, I will def come back and write some Quinn x Plus-size!Reader!

End of summer celebration!!

The once full plates on the candlelit table were now empty, the tablecloth, adorned with flowers and elegant napkins thoughtfully arranged by the newest member of the group, Luke's girlfriend. Luke leaned back in his chair, his arm resting on the top of the girl's chair, his fingers running over the soft fabric of the sleeve of her sundress as a content smile played on his lips.

Silently, he watched the girl laugh at something Mark had said, her laughter was infectious, and he found himself chuckling too, though he hadn’t caught the joke. His face heated up at the sight of her wide smile, her full cheeks pulled up and rosy from the wine she had been sipping throughout the night.

The dinner party had gone better than he could’ve imagined. It had been nearly a year since he’d seen his college friends, and he had been a little nervous about bringing his new girlfriend into the mix after starting a new, more separate life from his days at university. Especially since this new leaf, his new relationship was something he cherished so deeply, something that felt so pure in a very confusing and demanding year that was his rookie year.

But those fears had quickly evaporated the moment his friends arrived and sat down for the dinner she had spent all afternoon preparing. His grin grew at the memory of the two of them earlier in the day, the way he couldn't keep his hands to himself at the sight of her in a cute little outfit and an apron that had "kiss the chef" in print across the front, something the girl had gotten Luke after he complained once too many about making a mess while trying to cook.

She fit in seamlessly, her warmth and wit making her the life of the party as she and the girls started to mesh, all of them migrating to the dining table to see the setup that the girl had spent all afternoon trying to perfect.

Now, the evening was winding down, his friends had left not long after they finished the dessert Dylan's girlfriend had made, leaving the two of them alone in the aftermath of the night's dishes and mess. She was still sitting at the table, running a finger around the rim of her wine glass, lost in thought, cheeks flushed and a little drained from trying to be as cheery and involved in the night as she could.

His heartstrings pulled knowing that she wanted to make the best impression on his friends for him, it meant a lot that she cared so deeply.

Luke stood up and began clearing the dishes, but she reached out and caught his hand. "Can we leave it for a little?" she asked softly, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat, "we can clean up later."

He hesitated, then set the plate on top of the others he had already piled up. He knew that look in her eyes—she had something on her mind. She stood, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist as he leaned against the wooden table. Luke pulled her close, feeling the soft curves of her body against his, her warmth seeping into him as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before he dipped down to place a loving but messy kiss on her lips.

She smiled into his mouth as he pulled away and ran his thumbs over the soft curve of her hip, he chewed the inside of his cheek as he pulled away and drank up the way the soft yellow colour of her dress complemented the soft glow of her skin.

“I like how obsessed with me you are,” she said, her voice low and teasing as she looked up at him, watching his eyes trail up and down her figure as his fingers lightly squeezed the plumpness of her hip before he leaned forward to place a kiss to her exposed shoulder. "Makes me feel like the most important person in the world,” she said breathlessly as he pulled away with a smug look on his expression, one that relished in his capabilities of pulling a reaction out of her.

Luke’s heart swelled at her words.

He tightened his arms around her, pressing a short kiss to her lips, “you are the most important person in the world,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “to me, at least.”

She sighed contentedly, resting her chin against his chest and looking up at him with love-filled eyes as she decompressed from the stress she had placed on herself all night. Luke ran his fingers through her hair, his touch gentle and affectionate as he was careful not to ruin the perfect curls that framed her full cheeks. They stood like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the two of them fading away.

Eventually, she pulled back just enough to rise up on her tip-toes and press a kiss to his jaw as one of his hands made its way back down to its spot on her waist, “tonight was nice,” she said softly as he hummed in agreeance.

His arms stayed gently wrapped around her as he swayed along with the music playing from the kitchen, “I was a little nervous about meeting your friends, I sometimes feel like I can come off a little strong at first, but they were great,” she confessed as Luke smiled at her honesty. “That's nonsense, you're perfect in every aspect, and they loved you,” Luke replied, his voice full of pride and he shrugged, “how could they not?” he brushed her hair from her eyes as the swaying continued.

She blushed at his words, her cheeks flushing a soft pink as she reached up gently and fixed the collar of his polo shirt before running her fingers through his perfect curls. "And you're fucking stunning, never met a prettier woman in my life," he said as he closed his eyes at the feeling of her fingers in his hair. "You're such a flirt," she scoffed at his flattery as he shook his head at her avoidance of his statement. "I can't help it, I've gotta keep reminding you why you're with me," he mumbled as he squished her against his chest to silence her, "someone might try to steal you from me if I'm not on my A game!"

Luke couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her once again, a smile tugged at his lips as he watched the apple of her cheeks become a deep red before his lips brushed against hers in a sweet, lingering kiss. His hands roamed her curves, a mumbled hum of excitement leaving his lips at the realization that she wasn't wearing a bra before his hands fell back down to her waist.

When they finally pulled apart, she smiled up at him, her eyes shining with love, “I love you,” she mumbled as her fingers continued to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I love you too,” he whispered back, his heart full.

They spent the rest of the night cleaning up after the night's festivities and then ended in each other’s arms, a perfect ending to a perfect dinner.

I don't know if I did Plussize!Reader justice, but I feel like to really write a character like that I need to do a whole fic, so expect that eventually 👀

#rowan’s end of summer celly!!#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fluff

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ellieluvr420 · 1 year ago

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wife Abby headcanons xoxo

-You met at a bar when your friend cancelled on you last minute, she offered to buy you a drink and you chatted at the bar until she invited you back to hers, this was back when you were 22 and she was 25 so her flat was more modest but still well decorated and clean. You both shared a bottle of wine and sat and spoke more for hours until you were both so drunk you started doing karaoke together by watching youtube videos on her TV, she invited you out to an actual karaoke bar as your second date and she only fell even more in love with you the more she saw you.

-I think she would work in corporate like a lawyer or investment banker or something so I think she would try and work from home as much as they would let her.

-She looks so funny when she works from home too because she wears work clothes on her top half for her zoom calls but then she would be wearing pj bottoms and her slippers on her bottom half.

-Such a victim of Apple's marketing, always insists she needs the newest phone or whatever they had brought out, she has the watch, the phone, an ipad, an imac, macbook pro, airpod pros and airpod max's. Literally everything they sell because she's actually a tech geek at heart.

"I totally need it."

"Give me one reason you need an iPad Abigail."

"...I don't know, it's just cool."

You roll your eyes at her but chuckle at her insistence as you press a small kiss to her pouty lips. She smiles at you and looks like a child on Christmas day as she orders her new toy.

-She would so wear the airpod max's while working out and i think she'd always have one of those gallon water bottles that she'd take everywhere with her.

"Babe please just let me buy you one, trust me it will make you drink so much more water."

"No it won't, do not waste your money seriously." She'd huff at your stubbornness and go and buy you one anyway.

-I think she would workout at night or during the day if she can fit it in which rarely happens because she enjoys her mornings with you where you guys cuddle and chat and have breakfast together before she goes to work or gets started in the home office

-Does majority of the cooking because she really enjoys it and is also a chef, like she whips up three course meals so regularly like its nothing.

-You try and make dinner together on the weekends which equates to her micromanaging you until she gets too stressed watching you mess up and does it herself while you sit on the counter entertaining her.

-She always goes to sleep as big spoon and always wakes up as little spoon, every night, without failure. Also loves to lay on your stomach with her arms around your waist, one of her fav cuddling positions.

-She's the kind of person to ignore and persevere through a cold until she literally passes out and will get mad at you when you have to force her to rest but once she's comfy and has accepted she's ill she's such a baby.

-She would be so good with kids and they would all love her too like when you would go to family gatherings together all the kids would always be glued to her pulling her every which way

-loves dogs and cats and wants two of each

-loves home date nights where you cook together and watch films or play games whether its board, video or card games. Once you bought a fake police file and tried to figure out who the murderer was, it ended in a huge argument because you couldn't agree on who it was, you were so annoyed you made her sleep on the sofa but in the middle of night she sauntered back into your room and climbs into bed cuddling into you.

"Sorry babe, you were right." She kisses your forehead and you smile as you both go to sleep happily, Abby had managed to find the answer online but she didn't tell you that you were in fact wrong, she would rather be in bed cuddling you than prove she was right.

-I think she would want 3 kids, preferably boy, girl, boy or vice versa but she would be happy with any kids.

-If/when kids come along she starts working from home primarily and you watch them grow together.

-She would eventually want to move away from the city where she lived for an easy commute to work to a beautiful house in the country with large fields behind a huge back garden where the dogs and cats, and ducks all play with the kids.

-She would love reading crime thriller books but she also has a guilty pleasure for romance and sometimes she'll sit in bed with you and read you parts of the books. Can imagine older Abby refusing to get reading glasses because that makes her officially old but she’s literally holding the book as far as it will go and squinting so hard and she still can’t read it, you eventually give in and read it to her which only motivates her to not get glasses more because this was a way better option.

-Loves Family Guy, American Dad, South Park, all those kind of shows but if you put on a drama she'll grumble and then be hooked.

"Oh my god, oh my god, are you fucking kidding me? Noooooooo." Abby yells at the screen as she watches the season 1 finale of vampire diaries with you, you had started rewatching it as it was nostalgic and she made fun of you so much until you forced her to watch the episode you were watching.

Like I could so see her watching greys anatomy and sobbing when there's a major character death

-Goes to get mani pedis with you and she'll always get her nails painted to match the colour of yours even when you'd pick super bright to mess with her she'd get it without batting an eye.

-Of course she gets along super well with all your friends and family, sometimes you think they love her more than you 😀

okay that's all I got for now but I will probs do way more once the series is finished :))

#abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou #abby x fem!reader

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isetfiretomyself · 4 months ago

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Introduction!

Hiya! I'm Jay :D I write short Yandere head cannons with gender neutral readers! (The format changes depending how I'm feeling lol) I write Oc's and I do requests too!♡

Yandere Masterlist :3

Oldest at the top and newest at the bottom!

👑Yandere king part two Neil

🎮Yandere V Tuber Sasha

🦷Yandere Boxer, What if you were an Idol? Elijah

✨Yandere Hero Noah

🫀Yandere Butcher Isaiah

💌 Yandere Shapeshifter Doesn't have a name

💥 Yandere Villain Lizzie

☀️ Yandere Volleyball player Ash

The above not liking your friends 😱

🧠 Yandere Therapist James

🦠Yandere Test Subject Malachi

💰 Rich Yandere Tobias

📸 Yandere Model Felix

💖 Ex Yandere Henry

🚦 Yandere Underground Racer August

🥀 Yandere Ex Wife Alice

🩸 Yandere Vampire Max

Easter Special!

200 Followers Special!

🦴 Yandere Survivor Riley

📖 Yandere Academic Rival Billy

🌱 Yandere Farmer,part two CJ

💽 Yandere Idol Minato

🍒 Yandere Baker Ayesha

🚬 Yandere Husbands Brother Adam

🔪 Yandere Chef Wade

Any and all other fics with be added in time :D

#yandere imagines #gn reader #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere headcanons #fem yandere #ghost reader #yandere model #yandere king #yandere farmer #yandere fanfiction

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yeonzzzn · 1 year ago

Note

need a fic about staff!reader and idol!sunghoon who have to fool around in secret (but it’s not really secret bc hoon cannot control himself).. until its the newest headline on the gossip pages

anon, I love this fr fr!! your brain is *chef kiss* this one is for you!

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 1.7k

Sunghoon tried to not make it so obvious. Tried to keep it a secret and his feelings nonexistent when the other members or staff were around. To hide any signs he could possibly be in a relationship or even talking to someone.

Except, Sunghoon is way too obvious. He can’t keep secrets and shows his feelings all too well. He can’t help but get possessive or jealous making it again, obvious that he’s in a relationship.

It didn’t start that way though.

From the moment you were hired to be one of Enhypen’s new stylists, Sunghoon took a liking to you, trying to find any way possible to get his dick inside you.

Except he was shy at first, keeping his dirty thoughts to himself and his hand late at night in his bedroom.

It took months before Sunghoon started to get confident in flirting with you, testing the water at first to see how you’d react, and when you reacted the way he hoped…oh you were done for.

You caught up to Sunghoon’s antics really fast. Noticing his eyes on you. Noticing how he was always the first in the dressing room and the last to leave. Always putting himself in front of you to style him so you didn’t get the chance to even style one of the other boys.

Sunghoon was so obvious, but you found it cute, enduring, and kinda hot.

Sunghoon wanted to get to know you, sure. But the attraction he felt and the thoughts of getting his dick wet kind of outweighed that. But you worked with him, there was plenty of time to get to know you.

It wasn’t until a wardrobe malfunction happened that it really kicked things off between you and Sunghoon.

His shirt ripped in the middle of taking off some of his equipment in between sets to readjust. Having staff members send him running to you to fix it.

You looked at the whole torn at the back of his shirt, “The whole is too big, won’t be able to sew it back together. It’d be too obvious.” So it was settled on a shirt change. You walked to the clothing rack, picking an iced blue color shirt that matched his black jeans perfectly, “This one should do, here go ahead and—“

You weren’t expecting to see Sunghoon in the process of lifting the shirt off his body and dropping it to the floor. Exposing his toned body. Your eyes scanned his abs, his chest, his biceps…Bless whoever opened the first gym and started the chain reaction of opening them everywhere. Truly a blessing.

Sunghoon smirked, loving to see the blush on your cheeks, getting you right where he wanted you.

“Like what you see, pretty?”

You made eye contact with him, trying every way possible to keep your breathing even.

“Uh, h-here’s the new shirt,” you said, quickly placing the shirt in his hands and turning to walk out of the dressing room, except obviously, that didn’t happen.

Sunghoon grabbed your arm and pulled you back, trapping you between him and the vanity.

“Don’t leave me just yet, aren’t you supposed to make sure the shirt fits?” he rolled his hips against you, feeling his hardening cock against your stomach, “I’m sure it’ll fit perfectly though.”

You knew Sunghoon knew what he was doing, trying to make a play on words for how well his dick would fit inside you. Granted, it was working, regardless of how flustered you felt at that moment.

“Hoon, you have ten minutes before going back on stage,” you whispered, fingers gripping the sanity in hopes of keeping yourself from shaking.

“Then we have ten minutes to get busy, now don’t we?” He leaned his face closer to yours, “YN, Let me make you feel good.”

You nodded, letting him drop his hands to your legs and lift you on top of the vanity, rolling your skirt up your thighs and spreading your legs.

Sunghoon didn’t think this would be the way he finally fucked you, but he was here for it nonetheless.

He finally got to feel your lips on his, finally, had you wrapped around him perfectly as he pounded into you at a fast pace since his time was limited. The vanity rocked against the wall, being completely sure he was creating scuff marks on the white paint from the way he was fucking you against it. His hands squeezed your breasts. Tongue shoved down your throat. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer to you as you cum, making a mess on his cock. He couldn’t get enough of you, spilling his seed inside your pretty cunt and giving himself two minutes left to spare before going back on stage.

Sunghoon took any chance he could to fool around with you. Pulling you into any tight corner he could. Bending you over chairs, vanities, and the couches in the break room back at the HYBE building. Fucking you against walls at the stadiums they would perform at. Pressing your naked body against the mirrors in the practice rooms, leaving handprints behind once you two were finished.

It wasn’t too long before he started developing feelings for you, wanting more than just sex with you.

Sunghoon was already obvious as it was to the other members, they weren’t stupid. They knew he would sneak you over to their dorms late at night and he would sneak out of the dorms to your apartment.

But once Sunghoon caught feelings, phew it was way worse.

It became harder to not give you attention. To kiss you, touch you, spoil you. To act like there was nothing between the two of you when everyone was around.

Becoming possessive when another male staff member would talk to you. Be jealous if one of the other members needed a wardrobe change and you were the one to take care of them.

It became way too obvious to the point that Sunghoon finally broke down to the members about his feelings for you, their response being “DUH! We knew that already!” it made him feel relieved sure, but because of his idol status, he had no choice but keep it secret anyways.

Which only made it harder once the two of you finally became official. The members and staff all knew, but the fans and the rest of the world didn’t. Sunghoon wanted to show you off but knew he couldn’t for your safety.

It was comeback season for Enhypen. The boys were booked left and right for interviews, TV shows, and radio shows. The boys were busy and on a time crunch, but that didn’t stop Sunghoon from pulling you into the supply closet filled with the radio show equipment.

“Hoonie,” you whispered, “Someone will notice we’re missing!”

Sunghoon wasted no time pinning you against the shelves, his hands fiddling with the button on his pants, “Jake will vouch for us. Need you so bad baby.”

You could tell your boyfriend was nervous, this was a major radio show. And what better way than to relieve his nerves by fucking you?

You lifted your skirt and slid your panties to the side, giving Sunghoon full permission.

He licked two of his fingers, then slid them between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered against your lips, “always taking good care of me.”

Sunghoon knew you didn’t have much time to waste, knowing you were ready to take him once your juices started leaking down his hand.

He replaced his fingers with his cock, slowly sliding into you. Moaning out your name once he bottomed out.

He wrapped one of your legs around his waist, giving him even more access to your cunt, and started pounding into you.

Sunghoon gripped one of the metal shelves, using it to his advantage to push further into you, shaking the entire thing.

The two of you moan against each other's mouths. Your fingers tangling in his hair.

It didn’t take you long to cum. The fast pace Sunghoon was fucking you at with the help of his grip on the shelf along with him hitting your g-spot, it had you spilling over the edge.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Sunghoon growled, “Love when you cum on my cock.”

Sunghoon glanced up at his watch, seeing he only had minutes left, “I’m gonna go faster baby, okay? Wanna cum in your sweet pussy before I have to go.”

You nodded, holding onto him tighter, settling your face in his neck.

Sunghoon pistoned into you, fucking into you in a primal state. You attached your lips to his neck, teeth biting down on the skin to keep your moans from reaching outside the door.

“hmmm, fuck, I’m cumming baby, oh fuck.”

Right when Sunghoon released his load, the door to the supply closet swung open, and one of the radio show hosts' staff members stood there staring at you two, watching as Sunghoon slowly continued to push his cock into you, chasing what little high he had left.

“I’ll come back later,” the staff member said, quickly shutting the door.

It wasn’t news to anyone when all the famous KPOP articles on Twitter were talking about your sexual act in the supply closet.

Sunghoon sat in the makeup chair, reading the articles on his phone while laughing his ass off.

“They can’t even get the full story right,” Sunghoon laughed even harder.

Your face turned red as you organized the boy's outfits for the comeback show tonight.

Heeseung was also reading about the articles but from the tweets their fans were making, “Some of these posts claim they already knew you were fucking someone and that these articles just confirm it.”

“Can’t we sue that radio company for even opening their mouths?!” Jake asked, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket, “They went against Sunghoon’s privacy.”

Sunghoon just shrugged, “Not like I care anyway. Not my fault the guy decided to be a dick.”

Jay leaned over Heeseung’s shoulder, reading the comments, “Some of these say you kept going even after getting caught.”

Sunghoon just smiled, not saying a word.

“Oh, you’re sick,” Jungwon said, giving him a side-eye.

Sunghoon shrugged his leader's glare off and looked over in your direction, falling more in love with you than he was before, “At least I don’t have to hide anymore.”

“That’s the thing,” Niki rolled his eyes, “You were obvious from the beginning!”

“Exactly,” Sunoo said, “This only just made it easier for you two.”

Sunghoon didn’t care that his relationship with you got exposed, because now he didn’t have to try to hide. Even though he sucked at hiding anyways.

#myiceprince #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #reader x sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #yeonzzzn writing #yeonzzzn asks #anon

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 10 months ago

Note

Part 2 to Young ASL X Eri? Where Eri meets Garp for the first time?

When Ace, Sabo and Luffy were arguing over having a chef when they become pirates, only for Garp to come in (Startling Eri as she hides behind Makino seeing a new face)

Eri however runs in front of Ace, Sabo and Luffy to defend them from getting punched again, with Garp surprised but in awe seeing as how he has a granddaughter!

Eri is trying to distract Garp from punching her brothers, which he caught on to, but allowed it so he can spoil his newest grandchild!

-You had been adopted by the ASL trio, the three slightly older boys treating you like a little sister, telling you to call them all big brothers, which you had no problems doing as they were so nice and kept you safe!

-You flourished under their love and care, smiling more, learning to explore and learn about the world around you, and you were becoming a bit more trusting of others.

-Dadan was another who was quite protective, as you were a girl, and wouldn’t hesitate to put anyone, her men or your brothers, in their place to keep you safe, but whenever you mentioned it, thanking her, she would just flush and get embarrassed, telling you to shut up, but you learned that she was just shy, or that’s what Sabo told you.

-You were playing with Luffy and Sabo in a clearing, the three of you waiting on Ace to arrive so you could all go exploring again, as you had asked to see the beach.

-Ace ran into the clearing, looking frantic, “Garp’s here!” you didn’t know who that was, but Sabo and Luffy did as they both panicked, which concerned you, worried that this was someone dangerous or scary.

-The trees around you started rustling, like something was coming and Ace quickly grabbed you and tossed you into some nearby bushes, not hurting you, but getting you to safety.

-When you peeked out, you saw a huge man who was older, holding Ace with one hand and Luffy with the other, while Luffy was yelling, “Let go grandpa!!” you knew what a grandpa was, but you were curious as to why your big brothers seemed so scared of him.

-Your eyes widened when he whacked each of them on the top of the head, leaving a lump, yelling at them for being little brats and not behaving right.

-When Garp when to punch Ace again, who talked back to Garp for hitting him, you ran out, leaping in front of them, tears in your eyes, “Please don’t hurt my big brothers!!”

-Everything instantly froze as you appeared, your arms stretched out and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Garp was wide-eyed looking down at you as you sniffled softly, “Don’t- don’t hurt them!”

-As the tears fell instantly Garp had you in his arms, hugging you close, trying to calm you down, “I’m not hurting them- see- grandpa’s being nice!” you sniffled softly, your little hands up by your face as your brothers were also trying to calm you down, so you didn’t use your ability to heal them.

-Garp was soon sitting with you on his knee, listening to your tale alongside your brothers, who found you, and how they had adopted you as big brothers. Garp always loved the idea of having grandchildren, but when these brats wanted to be pirates and act out, he had to discipline them to get them back on track.

-When the ASL Trio and Garp started arguing on which was better, being a marine or a pirate, your little head kept turning to both sides, trying to follow why they were arguing, but as they started getting more heated, more tears welled in your eyes, “You’re not gonna fight again, are you grandpa?”

-Garp was instantly all smiles, holding you up, “Of course not my little Y/N! Grandpa’s just going to play with you!” your eyes went big before you smiled, “Really?”

-Garp paused, setting you down beside Sabo before he fell over, clutching his heart, crying obnoxiously on how adorable you were, which did confuse you a bit.

-Ace grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him and the four of you took off running to get away from Garp, who was quick to yell at the boys for their antics.

-The boys didn’t feel bad using you to get away from Garp and his punishments, throwing you at him as he would be all smiles, treating you like you’re mad of glass, doting so sweetly on you. Garp knew what they were doing with you, and he would get them back later when you weren’t around, as he didn’t want to make you cry.

-Garp enjoyed spending time with you, and he offered to take you with him, so he could raise you and you could be a marine, but you just shook your head, “I like exploring with my big brothers!” and all he did was ruffle your hair, minding your horn.

-When you arrived at Dadan’s, she quickly had you in her arms as you cried loudly, seeing your brothers all black and blue, punished by Garp for their antics as Dadan was yelling, going to go after Garp for making you cry.

-Your brothers didn’t let you heal them, as they didn’t want to put you at risk, but they did cuddle you, helping you calm down until you fell asleep. They had to keep you from Garp- they didn’t want him to take you and turn you into a marine- you were going with them in the future and going to be a pirate!

#one piece #eri reader #luffy #portgas d ace #one piece sabo #one piece garp

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