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tipsyleaf · 9 days

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The Prettiest Fairy Princess

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴅᴏᴍᴇꜱᴛɪᴄ ʟᴇᴏɴ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ.

"C'mon mommy!" Your little girl drags you to the living room, just having finished set up a "stage", 2 dining room chairs, an old pink sheet and construction paper with a background of a castle on a hill drawn in markers and crayons taped just above the sheet. It's for one of her performances she likes putting on now and again after writing her funny little stories.

Soon you're sat in the middle of the couch between her stuffed animals. Strawbeary, her large pink bear, to your right and her Bluey toy to your left. Soon a folded pieces of paper is put into the audiences hands, a crudely drawing fairy with a crown on it's head and a jumbled mess of 'The Fairy Princess' in sparkly gel pen. With enough glitter glue around the edges to choke someone to death.

"What's this?" You ask, your little one turning, now wearing what looks like mascara as a fake mustache. That old makeup you gave her really made her plays costume department thrive by the looks of it.

"It's a paybill!" She happily squeals, handing Bluey her paper.

"Playbill." You hear your husband correct her from the other room, you look into the hall wondering why he isn't being subjected to the audience like usual.

"A playbill!" She corrects herself, looking at you then back to the stage. Walking over she pushing her box of toys behind the curtain and grabs her fathers work jacket from the armchair near by. Putting it on and pushing the sleeves up to her little elbows as it swallows her. Crawling back behind the curtain her arm comes up, using Leon's flashlight and flicking it.

That's usually intermission... but God she really thought of everything.

Soon the room is filled with the sound of her ballet practice music from her room.

Ahhh, Leon must be a stage technician this time.

You hear your little one clear her throat, her tiny hand peaking above the sheet with a stuffed bunny in her hand.

"There once was a family of fairies that ruled a kingdom!" The bunny bounces slightly, fluffy ears wiggling as he's tousled around, her voice stretching with exaggeration. "In a kingdom of magical creatures! All happily living their lives as they could."

The bunny disappears, a Ken doll on a flip flop with a cotton ball pillow and tissue blanket appearing.

"But sadly, not everyone in the kingdom was doing well. The king was sick and the next heir needed to take the throne quickly before the king died. Because every marriage in the kingdom needed a royals blessing." Ken gets dropped to the floor with a clatter as the bunny appears again, the smile on your face only growing wider. Stifling a laugh as she continues.

"But there was a problem. No one in the kingdom wanted to marry the princess in line for the throne because she was different than any of the other fairy princesses..." Silence falls over the room for a few seconds. You hear shuffling, your daughters head poking out from behind the curtain towards the hall.

"Daddy, that's where you come in!" She harshly whispers before moving back into place.

"Sorry!" Settling in she repeats her line again.

"But there was a problem. No one in the kingdom wanted to marry the princess in line for the throne because she was different than any of the other fairy princesses."

You hear foot steps as your attention turns to the hall doorway as your husband steps through. You swallow your bottom lip, covering your mouth with your hand as you lean on your knees.

"oh my god..."

There Leon stood, your daughters bright white fairy wings on his back, straps stretched out way too far on him, the brightest pink lipstick you use to own smeared across his mouth and her princess tiara from a tea set she was given as a gift on his head. You desperately want to laugh at him but you can't. It would upset your daughter or worse... Make her cry.

You don't want to make your daughter cry.

"She was too tall for the other fairies to want to marry her!" You pull your hand from your mouth, gaining your control again. You mouth an 'I love you ' to Leon as he crosses his arms, not irritated but unamused, making the straps somehow stretch more against his shoulders. Your attention turns back to the bunny narrating the play.

"So the princess was sad and everyday she'd go to the pond not far from her castle. And sit with her only friend." The bunny dips down, being replaced by a frog plush, starting to bounce as your daughter spoke.

"Oh princess, why are you so sad?" Leon turns towards the frog, trying to put on his most delicate voice possible.

"No one wants to marry me frog. I just want someone to love me and... Help me protect my kingdom!" You let out a tiny giggle at his line stumble. He definitely wouldn't be winning a Tony anytime soon.

"I know what you need!" The frog sways energetically as he looks around. "I know of a place where you can have your wish granted."

The frog disappears and the bunnies back.

"So the fairy princess followed the frogs instructions to a wishing well in the middle of the woods. There she took out a coin, held it tight and threw it into the well while wishing for what she wanted most." Leon fished into his jeans and pulled out what looked like a button, tossing it behind the curtain.

"As she threw the coin a short handsome man came from the trees." Your daughter moves, fixing her fathers jacket back in place as she came to the front of the curtain.

"Who are you?" Says the very pretty fairy princess. Your daughter look up at Leon, face scrunched in what you guessed was supposed to be an angry expression.

"I'm the giant of this forest! What're you doing near my home!? Aren't you the kings daughter?" She asserts her voice to try sounding like a grown man but just ends up sounding like she's choking on something. You can't help but let out a tiny laugh and thankfully she's too busy with line delivery she doesn't seem to notice.

"I am the kings daughter! And you're a giant? But you're so small?" Leon glances down at his daughter, covering his own mouth as he tries keeping composure. She stomps her feet, readying herself to deliver her next line.

"Everyone says that I'm too small! I wish I could be bigger and show everyone home good I am."

"But I think you're perfectly fine the way you are. You're actually very handsome." Leon crouches down to her level, smiling at him as her eyes gleamed.

"And you're very beautiful madam. Would you like to be my wife?" Leon gasps excitedly, playing along with her enthusiasm. He always loved seeing his little girl look so excited.

"I'm not too tall for you?" The giant wraps his arms around the princess, hugging her tightly as he's hoisted into her arms. Leon carries her into the hallway and you raise your hands, about to clap when she rushes back in behind the curtain. Hoisting the bunny up.

"And so the giant and the fairy princess got married. Saving her kingdom and getting her fathers approval. Everyone lived happily ever after until the king died. The End!"

You start clapping as you stand up from the couch, your daughter coming out to take a bow, Leon coming back around the corner. He takes a little bow even before you get to your kids level.

"Honey, that was so good! Thank you for front row seats." She's jumping excitedly and smiles even wider when there's a knock at the door.

"Uncle Chris!" She screams running out of the living room. Leon freezes, staring at you while you stand.

"Chris is here?!" You look at him with a smirk.

"The boys are sleeping over tonight... Did you not remember?" Leon shakes his head starting to make a break for the hall.

"Uh, uh! I already texted Chris and he wants to see his nieces show... I didn't know you were gonna be in it though." You snort, covering your mouth as Leon looks at the hallway mirror and seems himself.

"Oh my God..." He looks mortified, knowing he's never gonna hear the end of this.

"Don't be so upset. At least you're the prettiest fairy princess in the whole house~"

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy writes

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peterparkersnose · 9 months

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Hairspray

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: pregnancy, before the outbreak, established relationship with joel, sarah is a little snitch, denial, age gap (not really specified), descriptions of childbirth, money insecurity, 2003 references

a/n this was too good to give up. lets pretend that the outbreak never happened and the miller’s got to live happily ever after :)

summary Sarah finds Y/N’s hidden pregnancy tests

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 6 mins 14 seconds

The phone was new. Joel had installed it a few weeks ago. No more cord! Your opposite hand felt awkward not having something to fidget with while your sister told you the horror stories of her giving birth. Something Mandy had brought up numerous times after confiding in her that you were pregnant.

It was your first; you were in your mid-20s. War was happening overseas, the world seemed to be going to shit. What a perfect time to bring a child into the world, huh? Your husband would be ecstatic, you just knew it. But the mere thought of something growing inside of you made you sick. “And then the feet came out instead! Ripped me open like-” You jumped a little. Facing the front door, you didn’t hear your husband come in from the back. His hands wrapped around your stomach as your shoulders pressed against his chest as your sister went on about telling you how her third kid cost her sixteen stitches.

A sharp gasp came from your mouth. “Are you alright? Is it the baby?” your sister yelled from the phone. Panicked, you quickly said your goodbyes to your older sister, assuring her everything was alright. You decided to give in to the kisses Joel was placing on your neck.

“What was she going on about now? Babies? Please tell me she’s not having another one.” Joel groaned. “Nope. Nine was enough for her,” you sarcastically answered. Four nieces and five nephews were enough for you to handle. Sarah enjoyed having kids her age to play with, but Uncle Joel was getting a bit too old for the rough play the younger ones enjoyed.

“What time is it?” you asked him, grabbing at his wrist. His hands were placed on your stomach almost like he knew. His watch read a little before three. “Sarah?” you asked him, swaying with him slowly. “Tommy’s coming over and we’re going to go work on a job,” he sighed.

“Again? Joel-”

“I’m sorry, It’s a quick one. Just a little steel door frame and I’ll be home late for dinner. I promise,” he said, kissing you on the cheek. You would need more cash once the baby came.

“I’ll go get her.” you sighed, but not in an angry way. You loved your stepdaughter more than anything in the world. You have known her since she was a small girl and have gotten along with her since the day you met her. She is going to be the best big sister.

Joel handed you the truck keys. Tommy’s car beeped in the driveway. “Give Tommy my love,” you called to Joel as you heard the screen door shut. --- A mainstream pop song quietly played in the truck as you waited in line at Sarah’s middle school. Parents were eager to leave and the San Antonio traffic was bound to be crazy on a Friday afternoon. You spotted your curly-haired stepdaughter as she left the school doors with some friends. You recognized a few from the sleepover she had last week. “Do you have any hairspray?” she asked, throwing her backpack in the back seat. “Yes?”

“Perfect.” Sarah responded. “May I ask why?” “Tiffany and Ashley gave me the recipe for a new oobleck!”

Sarah excitedly waved a loose-leaf piece of paper with a sparky pink gel pen scribbled all over the paper in her stepmom's face. “Hairspray is the main ingredient,” she explained, going over all the ingredients she needed. You smiled to yourself, carefully exiting the middle school parking lot as Sarah rambled about her day.

Sarah burst into the house, setting her backpack down and heading straight towards the kitchen. “Do we have any… flour?” she asked, reading off her list. “Red jar, babes.” you stated the obvious. The flour had been in there for years. “And the hairspray?” She asked. You sat down on the couch, fatigued by what you assumed was your pregnancy. Rubbing your temples, you replied, “Under my sink.”

Sarah burst into the bathroom, whipping open the cabinet door under your sink. In her excitement, the jolting movement of the door opening vaulted the zip-loc bag of pregnancy tests you had taped to the top of the cabinet out on the floor. Confused at first, she held up one of the blue sticks. Then she got it. “Y/N?” she yelled from the bathroom. Sarah was old enough to know what these were, and what two lines meant. Once she realized she was holding a stick of what you peed on, she threw it back in the pile of the rest of them sprawled out on the floor.

Sighing, you kicked your feet back on the ground. You had just gotten comfortable when Sarah called for you.

“Hm?” you asked, causally walking into your bedroom. Your tired state seemed to do a complete 180 when you saw Sarah on the ground with your tests. You froze, unsure of what to say to her. Rapidly blinking your eyes a few times to stop tears, you realized that there was no going back from this. Without a single word spoken you crouched down, collected the pregnancy test strips, and put them back in the bag. Seeing the loose pieces of tape, you used them to adhere the bag back where it was. You handed Sarah the red printed bottle of your hairspray.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, sitting at the edge of the bathtub. “A-are they yours?” she anxiously asked. A small laugh came from you. “Yes,” you smiled. “I’m going to be a sister?” she asked you. You shook your head yes.

“Does Dad know?”

The world seemed to blur a bit when she asked that. You could feel your heartbeat increase at the thought. “No. Not yet.” “What!” Sarah gasped. “How long have you known?” “About three weeks.” “Three weeks!” Sarah yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s difficult to… come to terms sometimes,” you said, trying to come up with the best way to explain this to Sarah. “You have to tell him. Tonight!” Sarah exclaimed.

You hated to admit that she was right.

“I don’t know Sarah, he’s out on a job with your Uncle and…” “I will call him. Try me.”

You looked at her, unsure of her new aggressive demeanor. She was always a natural leader. “Sarah, this is serious.”

“I know.” she said simply, exiting the bathroom. You followed her, watching her like a hawk for the rest of the night. And the rest of the night consisted of you making dinner, ravioli. Sarah was in the kitchen and made her ooblek and when that was done she finished her homework.

You sighed when the clock rang eight. He was more than late for supper. Sarah was asleep in your lap, the mindless cartoons played on. You watched them, trying to calm your anxious mind.

You heard Tommy’s truck pull into the driveway and saw its headlights as he left the driveway. Sarah stirred a bit, but a simple smoothing of her hair soothed her back to sleep. Joel quietly made his way into the house, only noticing the two of you when he locked the door.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You shrugged. Joel sat down next to you. “How is she? Is her homework done?”

“Yup.” you said coldly. “Look Y/N, I’m sorry I was late but the hardware store was out of the screws we needed and Tommy’s car was having an issue so we had to stop and get some-”

You couldn’t listen to Joel’s rambling any longer. You frankly didn’t care about some damn screws. It had to be done, and it had to be done now. Sarah was right, he deserved to know.

“I’m pregnant.”

Joel’s ramblings ended. A moment of silence lasted between the two of you. “Really?” he asked, a tiny awkward squeak coming from his voice at the end. “Mhm. Sarah found the tests. Under the sink, taped to the top of the cabinet if you want to see for yourself.”

Joel sat. “Huh,” he said, getting up from the couch and heading into the shared bathroom you guys had. He came back a moment later, his face was white as a sheet of paper.

“Can we financially do this?” you whispered, knowing Sarah was well faking her sleep and listening. Joel shrugged, plopping back down next to you. He knew this was a big issue and it would have to be discussed later. They were doing well, but Joel knew firsthand a baby on a small income was expensive. “I’m happy, if you couldn’t tell.” he said, a little bit of hope rang in his tone. “I could. My reaction was the same.” you assured him. You rested your head on his shoulder. “Everything will be okay.” he said, entwining his fingers with yours. “How long have you known?”

You seethed. “Don’t kill me.” “Maybe,” he said flirtatiously. You loved when he still flirted with you, even though you had been together forever and you were his wife. “Three weeks.”

He sighed audibly. “How far along are you?” “Don’t kill me.” you reiterated. “I have no clue. I haven't even been to a doctor yet, Mandy’s horror stories are traumatizing enough.”

“We’re making an appointment first thing tomorrow,” he assured you. You shook your head in agreement.

“Does she know?” he whispered, looking down at his daughter. He was so excited to be able to give Sarah a sibling. His bond with Tommy was unmatchable. Even though there would be a significant age gap between them, he still loved his little brother like no other. Even if they were six years apart, they were close. “She’s the one who found the tests.” you quietly chuckled, reminding Joel of what you said earlier. “She was threatening to call you at work and ‘expose me’,” you told Joel. He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, that damn kid.” he smiled, giving Sarah’s fluffy hair a pat just like you did moments before. He brought his hand back to yours and moved the back of your hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I love you,”

“I love you too,”

“And our little family.” you added. “Yes, and our little family.” Joel confirmed.

(if this story was spaced weirdly, apologies)- tag list

@dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @kittenlittle24

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lexischococoveredblueberries · 5 months

Text

⋆.ೃwe’ll live forever࿔*:･

veneer x GN!reader

one shot

fluff

you are helping veneer get ready for his next show. you both have had crushes on each other since you were kids, and all you two wanted to do was confess your undying love for each other, and the only thing stopping you was velvets disapproval and judgment.

but, that doesn’t stop the tension between you two when you’re alone…

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“y/n, get in here.”

you hear Velvet speaking from the radio that was

attached to your chest, which helped the twins

communicate with you easily whenever they needed

you. currently, you were in your own “ office “ (not

really privileged to you, but it’s where you got your

work done ) getting contracts ready for Velvet and

Veneer to sign. you weren’t very sure either of them

were even going to sign, but you were just doing your

job. you fumbled your hands to hold the speak

button of the radio and stood up rapidly from your

chair.

“yes, Violet. on my way,”

you gathered your papers and tapped them upright

on the table a few times to make them even, then

you dashed out the door and to their dressing room.

you didn’t like to admit it, but every time that Violet

called you to their room, you couldn’t help but feel

excited to see her brother, Veneer. whenever she was

being uptight or just plain rude, Veneers little jokes or

just the sound of his voice made the room feel a lot

less tiny. you’re anxious quite a bit , and perhaps he

picked up on it, because even just a softened gaze

from him helps you ease up.

you were a little like him, in a way. both of you thrive

to find approval from those higher than you, and in

your case it was both of them and HR.

it didn’t really take much for Veneer to like you,

though.

you arrived to their door, and knocked gently but

hard enough to have them hear you. oftentimes you

were scared of knocking too loud, since Violet

doesn’t like to be interrupted by obnoxiously loud

sounds…that’s really the only thing you can relate to

her with.

the door opened, and you saw Veneer standing there

with a warming smile on his face, and his hair looking

a little…eccentric. gel clearly wasn’t put in the right

way, strands falling out, and it was tilted to the side?

the sight made you blush, and you couldn’t help but

smile back, gripping the papers a little more tightly in

your hands.

“hello, Ven-“

“Y/N!”

you and Veneer jolted from velvets snappy tone, and

the door was whipped all the way open, tearing it

away from Veneers grip.

you are greeted with a

moderately-infuriated Velvet who looked upset but

also stressed. she then grabbed Veneers wrist and

pulled him towards a dresser chair, forcing him down

and pointing at him, one hand on her hip.

“okay, i CANNOT get his hair to cooperate. or

ANYTHING!”

she exclaimed, throwing her hands in

the air as if she was trying to strangle her own brain.

she pointed to the closet and stomped her foot

down.

“i had to put crimp in there because even SHE couldn’t do it ! i- just-“

she was obviously stressed out, and you showed her

a small smile.

“i understand. here,” you handed her the papers. “if

you can just throw a few signatures on here, i’ll fix

him up for you. i used to do a bit of hair dressing in

university, i’m sure i’ll be able to do something.”

her gaze softened for a moment, like she was

relaxed, but it was instantly back to a stubborn look,

and she snatched the papers from you.

“fine.” she sneered, and grabbed a pen from the

vanity. “i’ll be back, i have to go see a couple of

snobby interviewers before the show.” she notified,

approaching and opening the door. her back towards

you, she stopped.

“..thank you.”

she slammed the door, you and Veneer jolting again.

it was silence for a moment, until you cleared your

throat. “okay, let me figure this out.” you start

grabbing scissors, gel, hairspray, a comb, and bobby

pins to prepare yourself. Veneer watches you as you

speak to yourself and collect your train of thought.

he stares a little longer than he should.

you then turn him around in the chair and step

closer, your chest almost pressed against the back of

him. you clench your jaw and are instantly flooded

with the scent of 100 toxins from his hair, which you

found sort of nice. you start to drag your fingers

through his crunchy hair, easily getting knots out so

you don’t hurt him.

“you didn’t have to do this,” he says quietly, watching

you in the mirror as you comb through his hair.

you smile at him without making eye contact.

“oh, i know. i want to. it’s fun.” you say in an almost

monotone voice since you were concentrating. he

doesn’t respond , only admires you. you start to work

your magic, pinning up chunks of hair and letting

some fall, costing your hands with gel and infesting

his nest with hairspray. it was time to move to the

front, but a strand you had in your hand had to

stretch to that direction.

you walk around Veneer, your arms basically

wrapped around him, and stand in front of him whilst

pinning up that strand of hair you had in your hand.

this position seemed to last a little longer than it

should have, as you were shaking from nervousness.

you held your breath , anxious that he would feel it on

him.

you back away for a second, looking at your progress

so far, and he looked up at you with his big beady

eyes , as if he was just waiting for you to do

something. you tried to shake off the tension, but it

didn’t help when you had to get up in his face to fix

the obnoxiously huge wave in hair.

and there you were, your hands all up in his hair, your

faces inches apart, and all you could think about was

if his green lipstick tasted like lime.

you were nearly done, you would be able to breathe

in 10 seconds, when you two locked eyes. you didn’t

notice how flushed in the face he was until now. his

lips were slightly parted, his eyes gleamed as he

searched your eyes.

he shifted in his seat, and you backed away, letting

out a shaky exhale.

“o-okay, your hair is done. i’ll re touch your makeup.”

you said nervously , picking up his stick of lipstick

that was next to his sisters. you leaned close to him

once more, held his chin like you would your

favourite book, and swiped his bottom lip very

carefully. then, he had jerked his head oh so slightly

to the side, causing a smudge. you just stood there

thinking ‘shit , i need to wipe that off,’.

if only that’s what you were really thinking.

before you could comprehend your next action, he

muttered your name in a whisper and reached his

head forward, pressing his stained lips to your tinted

ones. you dropped the stick of lipstick, your hand

still in the air , and let yourself melt into the feeling.

your heads simultaneously titled as a natural flow of

kissing started, and Veneers fingers danced on the

skin of your forearms. you could feel the energy

coming off of him, how he desired more passion of

your slow, sweet kisses, but he was already drunk off

of what you were giving him now.

then he stood, leaning you gently against the vanity,

putting one hand on the platform and the other

snaked around your waist to support you. you kept

yours on his shoulders, not wanting to mess up his

hair, but he couldn’t care less.

he wanted you.

pulling away from each other, you both caught your

breaths, your eyes still closed to capture what just

happened. you felt his right hand take yours, your

fingers intertwining as he left a trail of kisses down

your jaw and rested his forehead on the crook of your

neck, smiling against you.

“Veneer…” you whisper, nudging your shoulder to

make him lift his head. he hummed in response and

looked at you, a sly smile on his face. you felt

flustered , trying to turn your head away but he used

his cheek to guide your face back towards him,

giving you a soft kiss in return. you then feel alarmed

and pushed him back slightly.

“ shit ! you have to GO, Velvet is going to kill you,

fuck, your makeup isn’t done, i-“

Veneer cut you off with a finger to your lips, waiting

for you to be quiet before backing away, putting his

shoulder pads on.

“I don’t care , dear. it’s a look, some fan will love it.”

he winked at you and opened the door, turning his

head to look at you.

“doesn’t it tell them that i’m off limits anyway?” he

clearly teased and your mouth parted slightly in awe.

he chuckled, his eyes falling half open.

“meet me backstage after the show , y/n. maybe we

can ruin the lipstick a little more.”

you stood there in disbelief.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

i hope u guys enjoyed this, my writing isn’t terrific 😞 if u have any suggestions about making Veneers character more realistic or just ideas for more one shots pls lmk !!! p.s im open to doing all genders for Veneer , i just wanted to stay neutral for my first fic <33

#velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #mount rageous #trolls #trolls band together #veneer x reader #one shot #fluff #gn reader

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satorisoup · 3 months

Text

ᰔ GLITTER GLUE ft. hajime iwaizumi

ʚ CW : “one sided” crush. confessions. cursing.

ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ

it’s valentine’s day, or rather, the most dreadful day of existence, if you were to say so yourself.

walking through the halls of school on a normal day was one thing, but now it seems that every corner you turn, you’re rather rudely reminded of your state of loneliness on the soul national holiday of relationships. bouquets of reds and whites, floral smells corroding your nostrils with every inhale, cute plushies holding little hearts, pretty cards with love written in sparkly pink gel pen. all gestures of admiration that are so sweet to any other person, but quite frankly, it’s just making you feel stupid for coming to school today.

you feel even stupider when you’re walking into class, eyes avoiding the gross kissing couples as you make your way to sit down, and you’re faced with exactly why you mourn valentines day so much.

hajime iwaizumi, the third year who sits one desk aside to you in class 5, who just so happens to be the person your heart decided to fall head over heels for. it was an unmistakable crush with the way your cheeks felt hot when he’d stretch in his seat, or the way your heart fluttered when he would make small talk when there was a particularly boring lesson. he’d even occasionally walk with you during lunch period in the midst of conversation or sharing a snack, before his friends would come and steal him away. he was sweet aside from looking intimidating, and it all the more so made you infatuated with him.

you watch him grumble outside of the doorway at one of his friends, a roll of his eyes before he’s striding into the classroom to take his proclaimed seat. you feel disappointed in yourself that you still haven’t been able to work up the courage to ask him out, too much of a coward to ever admit your interest in him. you take a quick glance at his hands, and what you see makes your heart drop even lower.

you catch a short glimpse of a pretty red valentine in his left hand before he’s quickly moving to neatly stuff it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

it looks like someone had beaten you to the chase, and it was only the first class of the day.

throughout the entire period, you notice the off behavior of your classmate as he sits in his seat. iwaizumi seems nervous almost, his leg softly bouncing up and down, and you also take into account that he hasn’t said a single word to you, or even looked at you this entire time. that usually would seem more normal on a regular class day, but today it was a free period, much to everyone’s liking. after dismissal, iwaizumi wasted no time to get up and out of the classroom before you could even ask him if he was alright.

classes today seemed to go by as if minutes were hours, and students had gotten even more enthusiastic as time went by as they all exchanged their thoughtful valentines to their partners. you think you’ve heard enough random “i love you’s” to last you 3 lifetimes in a singular day, but what you were seriously dreading was lunchtime. where everyone would walk around hand in hand through the courtyard, gifts, cards, flowers, big huge teddy bears to little tiny ones, kissing that should probably be saved for behind closed doors, and especially confessions. not wanting to be surrounded by the exact thing you were missing out on, you opted to stay inside for lunch.

the empty classroom you sit in is completely silent, the only sounds you hear coming from outside through the windows, voices of distant squeals and happy laughter. you sigh at your own demise when you decide to finally get up and wander around the halls. paper heart chains and pretty streamers litter the lockers and walls, and even some of your teachers had little decorations as their own way of getting into the spirit. it really was unfortunate that you weren’t able to celebrate today with who you wanted to so badly, as your fate lies in your own thoughts because you were too chicken to ever say it. and now, your crush was starting to act weird, which meant he had probably already accepted a confession, or maybe even confessed himself, to a person he was interested in. you wanted to be angry, you really did, but it wasn’t your place to be mad at him. he wasn’t ever yours to begin with.

as you stroll along and unwontedly admire the atmosphere around you, you hear the uncomfortable squeak of shoes against the wooden flooring, alerting you that you weren’t alone. when you look up from your feet to meet the eyes of the person who had interrupted your thoughts, you can physically feel your stomach sink to your feet.

iwaizumi stands at the end of the hallway, his hands behind his back with that same expression he had during class, even if it was barely noticeable. he looks at you before he straightens up.

“hey.” is all he mutters.

…

“hi.”

he takes a few steps forward to meet you where you had halted before and begins to speak.

“i was looking for you.” he voices.

“oh.. well you found me.”

you aren’t helping much with his attempt to cure the awkwardness around you two, but even so, he continues to talk nonetheless.

“why weren’t you outside for lunch?” he asks you.

“eh, didn’t wanna be around all that lovey dovey stuff. but, um.. why were you looking for me?”

you feel nervous when iwaizumi is silent, his hands now coming out from where they risided, holding that same red valentine from this morning.

“because i wanted to give you this.” he replies.

you notice the tinge of pink on his usual hardened face, looking down to where he held out the card to you.

you carefully grasp the messily accessorized card, studying it as you feel your heartbeat pick up to a faster pace. the red, heart shaped card stock proposed a simple question of ‘be my valentine?’

and as cheesy as it was, your lips pull into a wide grin when you look back at him, his hands tucked into his pockets while he waited for your answer.

“is this a confession, or am i reading the glitter glue wrong?”

“shut up, it was oikawa who dumped all of that shimmer shit on it…” he rumbles, recalling the short memory of his best friend tossing glitter onto his card while scolding him, “iwa, you seriously lack so much pizazz. girls love sparkles and glitter!”

you laugh at the thought of his friend taunting him over his card, and then you’re suddenly blushing at the concept of how iwaizumi had taken his time to make a special valentine, just for you.

“well, i accept your confession, iwa…”, “even if it’s twinkling in ‘shimmer shit’.”

it was iwaizumi’s turn to chuckle when he laces his arm around your shoulders, and he smiles as he walks with you.

“idiot.”

yes, valentines day was usually a dreadful day. but the surprises it holds? those aren’t dreadful at all.

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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

Text

Keith walks into his room after a deliciously vigorous training season, wiping his sweaty face with a towel, and immediately notices something is off.

He freezes, towel clamped to the back of his neck, and carefully scans his room from corner to corner. His lock was still intact when he walked in, so unlikely break-in. His bed is still exactly as messy as it was when he left it. His dresser drawer is still left cracked slightly open, as he always leaves it, because it’s harder to put a drawer back to the same level of open it was before than to close it (he’s caught Hunk snooping through his shit many a time with this method. Thanks, Pa’s paranoia).

His gaze lands finally on a nondescript black book on his nightstand, and his eyebrows shoot up. He finished his book this morning and returned it to the library on his way to the training room.

He did not leave that black book there.

Wary, a thousand anxieties running through his brain, Keith approaches his nightstand bayard-first, sword extended and sharp. He pauses before he comes in contact, taking time to analyse it, attempt to puzzle out any kind of traps or discrepancies before they jump out at him. He can’t see any — the book is on the newer side, with a roughened black hardcover, gold detailing on the spine but no title or author. The paper looks thick and it’s strangely uncut, raggedy.

Hesitantly, Keith pokes it.

Nothing happens.

Less suspicious, now, he prods at it with his hands, and when that does nothing, he picks it up. It’s heavier than he expected. He cracks open the cover to reveal a red paper lining. Stuck to the inside of the cover is a baby blue post-it note, crookedly place, with only a neatly drawn heart in glitter gel pen. Keith can’t help the smile, even as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What even…”

Pinching the first page from the bottom corner so as to not accidentally rip any paper, he slowly turns it over.

He gasps, fumbling with the book as he nearly drops it.

“How did it…”

He recognises the first page — it’s his. Or he made it, anyway. Scrawled in every white space of the nearly parchment-esque alien paper is his own doodling, from a boring meeting several weeks back. He recognises the slightly mean drawing of the Capnir leader and his snooty expression in the left corner, and the ninety games of tic-tac-toe he played with Lance on the bottom half of the page (Lance insisted he won because he is a nasty cheater. Keith didn’t even know it was possible to cheat at tic-tac-toe, but it is. It’s crazy).

Gobsmacked, Keith begins to flip through the rest of the pages, eyes getting wider and nose getting closer to the book with every corner he turns. These are his doodles and drawings — hundreds of them, loose papers from meetings and scrawled diagrams from mission plans and notes to other paladins and dorky little drawings he made for his friends or because of his own boredom. There are grocery lists covered in drawings of engine parts and knives and strange alien vegetables, hand-to-hand manoeuvre diagrams, several drawings of Shiro as Captain America, of Pidge and Hunk covered in soot except for the line around their eyes from their goggles, of Allura with the mice in her hair, Coran in the wackiest outfit he’s ever seen, Shiro with his eye twitching from Slav, Matt making goo eyes at Allura. Some of Kolivan, even, with over-exaggerated eyebrows and a frown that touches his neck.

And dozens, maybe even hundreds, of drawings of Lance. Smirking at Keith from across the kitchen table before he instigates a Pidge-Hunk argument, crowing in victory after making a shot, serious and focused mid battle, face drooping and sad and fixed on a glowing blue Earth projection with his chin hooked over his knees. Drawings that itched at Keith’s fingers every hour of every day, that he barely tried to resist; snapshots of Lance that plagued his mind ‘til he finally found time to grab a pencil.

Drawings that he had, apparently, left scattered all over the castle without thinking.

He cradles his flaming face in his free hand, heart pounding in his ears. He’s sure — he knows he threw half of these out. Some of them he left lying around, sure, and others he left out deliberately for his friends to find, but — Keith knows he threw out the full-page and coloured portrait of Lance, bright and beautiful in a dozen shades of earth, smiling softly at Keith in the low-light of the common room well after midnight. He can see the creases and smudges from where he’d crumpled it, embarrassed, and where someone had fished it out of the trash and carefully straightened it back out, brushing dust out of the crevices.

“Oh my God.”

Hunk would never have been able to keep the secret with how long it would have taken to bind this book — by hand, by the looks of it. Allura couldn’t either. Both Pidge and Shiro would have been gleeful in mocking Keith about the clear affection in every pencil stroke. Coran would have probably stuck it proudly on the fridge — he did that, once, Keith remembers, with a sketch he’d done of the whole team during a movie night. It’s still there; it’s been so long that Keith doesn’t notice it anymore.

There’s only one person who would pick up the discarded slips of paper and slide them in his pocket — only one person who’s that kind of sentimental. One person who prints every photograph he takes of every planet they’ve ever been on, who pins up every drawing gifted to him by young children no matter how objectively horrible, who tears off notes written in the margins of battle plans and keeps them in a jar on his dresser. Only one person who has a scrapbook with a dried blade of grass from Arus and piece of sea glass from the mermaid planet and a napkin stained with food goo from their food fight all those years ago. Hell, there’s only one person on this castle with enough skill with a needle and thread to bind a whole ass book.

Keith drops his bayard to the floor with a clatter, book clenched in his fist, and sprints out of his room. He flies down the hallway, ignoring the startled shout from Pidge as she jumps out of his way and the wide-eyed stare from Allura. He almost runs straight into his brother, spinning to the right at the last minute and rushing past him without bothering to entertain his questions. He runs all the way to the MedBay, where he knows Lance is taking inventory for Coran, and nearly crashes right into the pods because he’s too pumped up to slow down properly.

“Whoa there, cowboy, cool it before you give yourself a concussion. Christ.”

Lance places a cool hand on his shoulder, concerned, bin of counted bandages left abandoned behind him. Almost immediately his face coils in disgust.

“Aw, gross, you’re sweaty.”

But he doesn’t move his hand.

Keith stares.

How did he — how did he miss it, before?

“Keith?” Lance asks again, alarm clouding his face. “You okay, buddy?”

His fingers curve absentmindedly along the junction of Keith’s neck, and he leans in closer, and he smells so fucking good and he always does and Keith is lightheaded from more than just his cross-castle sprint.

“You’re in love with me,” he blurts, and he didn’t mean to say it like that but there’s no doubt in his words.

Lance startles, yanking his hand back in shock. Keith darts out to stop it, fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going far. Lance’s breath hitches.

“…What?”

“You’re in love with me,” Keith repeats, steadier this time. He waits a moment, then says, much more urgently: “The book.”

Mortification rings off Lance in waves.

“Oh,” he croaks. His pulse is so loud and so fast that Keith can feel it in his wrist. “I didn’t think it was — oh.”

There’s a strange quality to his voice, besides the embarrassment of getting caught, and then it clicks — he’s afraid. Of rejection, of disgust, of Keith. Keith isn’t sure. But he hates that it’s there.

Faster than he can talk himself out of, he cups Lance’s face with his free hand, relishing in the sharp intake of breath, and leans in and kisses him. There’s a moment of rigid shock on Lance’s part and it could spell trouble but Keith holds steady. He keeps his hold loose and the pressure soft and soon Lance — melts, into him, there’s no other word for it; he sinks in close and sighs and the hand Keith has gripped goes slack. His lips are soft, and his hair tickles Keith’s forehead, and Keith can still feel his jackrabbit heartbeat, and he still smells like that intoxicating mix of flowers and — sunshine, somehow, straight from the brightest days in Earth. Keith’s hands have never been steadier.

“You collected my doodles,” he says, staying close when Lance pulls gently away. He can see the deeper browns in Lance’s irises, the places where the gold gives way to near-black. They look like the flecks of the precious metal Keith would see at the bottom of the river mud in the mountains of Arizona.

“They were worth keeping,” Lance says quietly. He holds Keith’s gaze. The tips of his fingers trace Keith’s temples; they’re rough with old guitar callouses.

“You think everything is worth keeping.”

“Only the things that — bleed.”

Keith thinks that they’re both right. Lance can’t leave anything behind because he aches for the soul he finds in it. He finds the worth in everything. He found the worth in Keith.

He found enough to make Keith stay.

Keith grips the book in his right hand, left still cupped around Lance’s cheek. The difference in textures is startling, grounding.

“No one has ever done something like that for me before,” Keith admits. There’s a lump in his throat but Keith thinks it’s manageable, thinks he can talk through it. Thinks he might hold the strength for it.

Lance waits patiently.

“I want to —” Keith stops. He opens the book. The drawn Lance smiles up at him, beautiful. He looks up and Lance smiles over at him, breathtaking. “I —”

He doesn’t know how to say it. It’s there, bubbling in his chest, spilling out of him; obvious. But he doesn’t know the words for it. He’s not sure anyone’s taught him before.

“Okay,” Lance says. He tugs his wrist out of Keith’s grip then laces their hands together, squeezing. His smile only widens and he — sparkles, almost. Keith’s throat goes dry.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Lance repeats, teasing. He leans in again. “I’m going to kiss you again, now.”

“Please,” Keith begs, and he does.

———

based on this post

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bangaveragewhitewine · 8 months

Text

I'm yours, all yours

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, established relationship)

October 1991

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since.

An autumn afternoon together shows you a little bit more of the man you’re falling in love with.

Word Count: 6.2K

Content / Warnings: Contains the main food groups - fluff, smut & hurt+comfort. Reader has some self doubt / anxious thoughts. This is 18+ - if you are not 18+ hit the back button and read something else. Oral (m receiving, minor f receiving), p-in-v sex. Feeeeelings. Eddie & Reader are mid twenties. Reader written as AFAB using fem pronouns.

This is best enjoyed after reading their origin story crazy-mad for you (part of the Happy Hours series)

Author’s note: I’m planning to follow CMFY with some one-shots from throughout Eddie & Bartender’s relationship. I have some loose ideas but this one came from a deleted scene I couldn’t squeeze into the main fic so reworked it! Beta’ed by @specialagentmonkey (theee best) Thank you for the love on CMFY! Reading your replies and reblogs and tags made my shitty wee brighter. Hope you enjoy this cosy peek and have a gorgeous day 🖤

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since. Every moment your lips aren’t on each other is like a thousand paper-cuts to Eddie’s heart (so soft inside the facade of Mean Metalhead he has curated for himself). He makes you want to write his name next to yours in pink gel pen, framed with sparkly little hearts.

Two months and counting with Eddie and you learn something new about him every day; he loves tattoos but needles make his stomach twist, he meets his friend Steve once a month for a dude-date breakfast (but sees as much as he can of him and his other friends when their schedules line up), he sings with his band but needs at least five drinks before karaoke.

When you ask questions, when you're curious, he tells his long and meandering stories with wandering tangents which tell you so much about the man you’re falling in love with. He opens up to you, tells you things very few people know - about his mom, how he ended up with his Uncle Wayne. It hasn’t been long, but you already can’t wait to meet him.

Two whole months (closer to three really) and you’re sure you don’t want to ever have a single day without Eddie in your life, and your bed. And yet you still haven’t asked the question that has been on your mind since before you two ever got together.

It’s October now; Autumn is here and the city has turned chilly. Sweltering summer nights are no longer and you and Eddie have been spending afternoons and late nights when you’re not working watching your favourite horror films. When he had told you how much he loved Halloween - just as much as you, if not a wee bit more - you knew Eddie Munson was the one.

It’s Friday, late afternoon and you had reluctantly spent the night in your own apartment. The shame radiating from the mountain of laundry in the corner of your room had become too powerful to ignore and so you had forgone a night of being held and loved-on to tackle it and the other life-admin you had been ignoring. Eddie had suggested staying at your place, but you knew he would distract you too much with his kisses and touches (which he doled out generously whenever you were near).

You had missed your boyfriend terribly, almost like a missing limb or a gorgeous big parasite (affectionate) that you had grown more than fond of. Eddie had the night off work but still drove you to and from the bar, even stayed for a drink until Frank shooed him away for trying to distract you. You had missed him so much that you had kept him on the phone to talk a little longer when he got home before saying goodnight and promising you would see him before your shift together tomorrow. You had spent nights apart before, days and nights when you or Eddie had clashing schedules but you felt his absence more than ever today.

Your laundry and errands had never been completed with such efficiency as when you had the motivation of seeing Eddie as soon as they were ticked off your to-do list.

You arrived at his door and buzzed the intercom for his apartment, laden down with an overnight bag (over-weekend really) and Tupperware containers full of homemade soup and lasagna for before your shift at Jackie’s. Your cheeks are warm and you can feel heat prickling under your arms alongside the swelling of anticipation in your chest. Eddie buzzes you in and comes to meet you, a big grin on his face for his girl.

His hair is up in a messy bun, held in place by a black velvet scrunchie you insisted was his now. He looks cosy in sweats, a tank top and his red and black flannel which you know to be softer than soft. Eddie hadn’t even bothered with shoes, braving the stairs in his socks so that he could see you sooner. You match his smile when you catch sight of him; cosy Eddie is far from the leather-jacketed bouncer you had got to know.

When he sees how many bags you’re carrying, he rushes to lighten your load (doesn’t even skid on the tiles).

“You walked here with all that?! I could’a picked you up!” he said, shouldering your overnight bag before blessing you with a kiss.

“It’s like two blocks, not a marathon.” You roll your eyes at him but pout for another kiss anyway as he rings for the elevator.

Eddie will never refuse you a kiss. He pecks little smooches to your smile as it grows wider. “I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too.” You nudge his cheek with your nose, pecking at it like a little bird as the lift arrives; you step in ahead of him, pressing the button for the third floor with your now free hand.

He asks if you slept okay (not as well without him, but you don’t say that) and tells you about the bag of free bagels he scored as a thank you from the man who ran the deli a few doors down. The guy’s hand-truck had lost a wheel while he was taking in a delivery that morning and Eddie helped him out, fixed the wheel too. He knew how much you loved the bagels from there and it felt fateful that his reward was a bag of your favourite everything bagels.

“Neighbourhood hero,” you sing, following him into his one-bedroom flat. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Trigonometry. French. Um… skateboarding!” he lists, as he drops your bag inside his bedroom door. “I fucking suck at skateboarding.”

The thought of Eddie on a skateboard makes you smile - definitely a little meanly, what a dork - but you store that one for later.

The bag of Tupperware barely makes it to the kitchen counter before Eddie’s arms are around you, pulling you back against his chest. His nose presses into the base of your neck, huffing hot breaths against your sweet-smelling skin before kissing up his well-worn path.

“I really missed you,” he murmurs, hips nudging forward against your jean-clad behind for emphasis.

“Missed me or missed getting your dick sucked?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Both. Mainly you.” His grin is impish as you turn to loop your arms around his neck, backed right up to the wiped-clean Formica. You let him lift you onto the counter so that he can stand between your spread knees.

“I missed you and your dick, so we’re even. And we have the whole weekend together to get reacquainted, huh?” You twist a loose curl around your finger, tugging to watch it spring and coil.

Eddie feels like a swooning maiden when he’s the centre of your attention like this, being flirted with. He loves it and he knows he’s in love with you. He had fallen first, long before you had even realised your banter at work was more than just that.

His fingers creep up your thighs, the silver glinting at you as you place your focus on making up for a night apart as you make out in his little kitchen.

Eddie smells shower-fresh, clean with a hint of spice, and the curls at the base of his neck are still a little damp. He shivers, giggling against your mouth when you run your finger down his spine. “Your nails are tickly,” he says with a pretend scowl.

You know he loves your nails on his back; when they’re digging in like claws to leave him littered with red scratches, and when they’re tickling up and down in soothing strokes as he’s falling asleep.

He takes your hand and brings it around to see the fresh coat of deep red on your nails. “You painted them!” he says, his nose scrunches cutely when you poke it.

“I did. The black was getting chipped and gross.” You brought the black polish anyway in case he wanted to try it out again, thrown somewhere in your make-up bag.

Eddie rests his chin on your chest; your breasts have become his favourite place to lay his head, closely followed by the squishy pillow of your thigh (there’s a third-place tie between your tummy and your butt). You dot kisses to his forehead beneath the shaggy bangs, trailing up into his hair when he presses his face against your soft sweater.

“Eddie?” “Hmm.” His voice is muffled. “You hungry?”

His head turns so you can hear him more clearly, “Hungry for you.”

Hopeful mischief twinkles in his hot-chocolate eyes when he peers up at you.

“Horndog.” “Yes?” “Gross boy.” “Unh, yes. Say more dirty things to me, baby.”

He has a look of hammed-up ecstasy on his face, scrunched brow and bitten lip. Even though you know he’s pretending, it makes the horny cavewoman part of your brain think about his face when he is actually deep inside you or desperate for your touch - it makes your tummy feel like lava. One night apart makes you realise just how bad you’ve got it for him. You shove at his head and Eddie leans back with a throaty giggle before squeezing your hips again.

To balance out your playful push and satiate the need building in your gut, you pull him in for a kiss - open-mouthed with the dirty slide of tongue that sounds loud in your ears. Your legs wrap around him, arms tighten.

“Carry me?” “Bed?” “Sofa, bed. Wherever.” “Potato, tomato.” “Eddie.”

He sweeps you off the counter - you’re still surprised and impressed at his strength until you remember him lifting the barrels and kegs at work. You reward him with distracting kisses as he carries you to the soft brown couch and smile up at him when he lays you down gently. He forgets about gentle as he removes his shirt and pounces on you, resuming your dirty kisses from the kitchen.

Merlot-red nails push the hem of Eddie’s tank top up his pale back, slipping beneath to pull him tighter to you between your thighs. You can already feel him growing hard; you nip at his lower lip and kiss away the sting.

“Sit up for a sec.” You tap his side but Eddie needs to kiss you just a little bit more before he can pull himself away.

“Where you goin’?” he asks, a little breathless. Blown-black pupils eat up the brown warmth with his voracious want; he watches as you sit up on your knees and pull your cosy sweater off, then the white vest beneath, leaving you in your creamy silk bra and blue jeans.

“Pretty,” Eddie whispers, his fingers brushing the little bow between your breasts. He was in awe of your little collection of bras, the matching underwear too. He even loved you in the cotton comfy pants that hugged just right when your cramps ached.

“Sit back against that end. And take your pants off, handsome.” You smile when he stares at you, “Do you need help?”

Eddie barely shakes his head as he wriggles out of his sweatpants and sits where you told him to. You balance each other out, taking turns to take the lead. You’re still learning, and despite Eddie’s non-academic tendencies, he’s studious and dedicated to learning what you like, where and how to touch you. You’re his favourite subject and he’s yours too.

You smile and knee-walk across the chasm between you, situating yourself between his legs to take his face in your hands and kiss him. He makes a small joyful noise when you begin to kiss down to his jaw and nuzzle at the dusting of stubble.

“Smell good,” you murmur, teasing delicate skin with your teeth before bestowing him sucking a wet kiss, enough to leave just a hint of a bruise there. It makes Eddie groan quietly, a desperate little noise at the back of his throat. He’s louder when you slip your fingers down his chest and into the waistband of his black boxers - they have little skulls on them.

“Cute,” you run your thumb over the elastic at the top as your knuckles brush his cock. Almost an echo of Eddie’s assessment of your bra moments ago.

Hips push up, almost like an electric shock. There’s a tiny noise that you just about hear, deep back in his throat, a quiet grunt as Eddie covers your hand and shows you what he needs. His pretty lashes flutter as you look at each other, sparking fire in your gut again. You smile and move your hand away, halting his protest by pulling the black cotton down his thighs to drop them on the floor.

You can feel saliva pooling under your tongue when you see him - you really did miss him, all of him, while you were apart. He’s thick and a few centimetres over average length; a nice dick (rare and wonderful) and he knows what to do with it to leave you brainless and whimpering. Eddie gets one more kiss before you make yourself comfy, lying on your tummy between his legs. Little kisses are peppered on his hairy thighs, over the black and shadow of ink, before you take him in your hand, then your mouth.

Eddie is in awe of how pretty you look like this, how your lashes kiss your cheekbones and the stretch of your lips (he goes a little crazy if you’re wearing lipstick too, really gets him going). His breath comes hard through his nose as you tongue the head of him, press against the thick vein before taking as much as you can into your mouth.

“Shit,” he growls, feeling your nails on his thigh as you begin to bob your head steadily. His hips and thighs tense and spread a little wider, needy, as he keeps himself in check. Your other hand holds the base of him, what you haven’t yet tried to fit into that pretty mouth.

“Look at my girl, so gorgeous,” he murmurs, smiling when your lashes flutter. His girl. “So pretty.”

You hum affirmative, taking more in when his head tips back to show off his pale throat and the little mark you left behind. His jaw tenses, twitches and you begin the slow bob of your head again. You look up past your lashes, watching his brow crease when you take him all the way.

“Shit shit shit,” his voice is a breathy growl that bleeds into a louder moan when he sees you looking up at him - his devil woman. “You’re going to kill me someday with that mouth, huh?” he says. The shake in his voice betrays him as he tries to act a little smooth, a little more together as you’re taking him apart.

You bob your head, imitating a nod, and bring your hand down to squeeze and roll his neglected balls for good measure. That makes him howl and he covers his face with his arm while you let that playful hand take over so you can catch your breath.

“Y’okay?” you ask, resting your cheek against his thigh as you move your hand a little faster.

“Mhmm, peachy,” he replies, eyes a little wild. You love the pink blush on his usually pale cheeks, love knowing that he’s like this because of you.

Eddie strokes your cheek as you take the head of him back between your lips, a tender little caress of his thumb that makes you close your eyes and lean in. You feel hot and slick between your legs, push your hips to the sofa cushion just a little to temper the ache.

He catches the little motion and his jaw drops a little - it clears his head just a little, zeroing in on you through his haze of arousal. “Oh my girl feelin’ needy too?” he asks, thumb pushing gently against your cheek.

You move your mouth off of him and nod, turning your head to kiss his palm. “Told’ju I missed you.”

Eddie’s grin can’t be contained. “C’mere then.” His hands run over your back, coaxing you into his lap.

Once you have rid yourself of your jeans and underwear you take up your throne on Eddie’s thighs. Your appetite for each other meant that he had started storing condoms in practically every room - there's a fresh box on the coffee table, bought that morning after he saw how low the reserves were.

Your arms wind around his neck, pressing yourself against Eddie as he kisses you again. Fingers drift between your legs, feeling just how slick you are for him - a combination of missing him and seeing the effect of your mouth on his face. You feel his smile against your mouth as you seek a deeper dirtier kiss, sucking that plump lower lip between your own.

One guitar-string scarred finger is joined by a second, rubbing slow firm circles that make you moan into his mouth. They press inside and his thumb takes up that slow wet rub, pulling more little needy noises from your lips as you take him back into your hand.

Hands and wrists cramp easily at this angle and you take a moment to pull back, biting your kiss-bruised lip before turning around on your hands and knees to present yourself to Eddie. Peeking over your shoulder with a cheeky smile, you see how his eyes blaze before grabbing for the box of Durex. You hide your grin against your arm when you hear him swearing at the plastic wrapping, calling the box ‘a fuckin’ shitbag’ when his nails struggled for purchase against it. There’s a tiny ‘yes!’ when he finally breaks in and you laugh quietly at you listen to the familiar tear-open of foil.

On his knees, he bends to kiss the rounds of your ass, then dips lower to taste you just once. “Fuckin’ so sweet,” he murmurs, wishing he had the willpower to not follow his dick that afternoon and dive into you instead - but there’s always later.

You gasp-giggle at the feeling of his tongue and rock back when you see him line himself up. “Please?” Your lips push into a playful pout, “Show me how much you missed me?” You love winding him up like this.

One side of his mouth curves up as he holds your hip, rubs the head against you to play you at your own game before pushing all the way in. Your jaw drops open, feeling full as Eddie rocks his hips minutely. You can feel him pushed right up against you inside and out, his thighs against the back of yours before he begins a deep dragging thrust.

“Shit, you feel good,” he murmurs, stroking your hip lovingly. “That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You nod, hating that you can’t see him despite how good this angle is for you both. “Eddie,” you whimper, feeling yourself flutter around him.

“Yeah, that’s who’s making you feel good, sweet thing. I’ve got you.” He squeezes your hip, the silver of his rings biting into the doughy softness as he watches his length disappear inside you over and over as he begins to get quicker and harder with his thrusts.

Your eyes nearly roll back as he pounds into you, fingers gripping the arm of the couch - it’s about the only thing keeping you up as Eddie fucks you and runs his mouth. It feels so good you can barely speak.

“That’s my girl. Going all cock-dumb on me?” he asks, squeezing the meat of your ass a little harder, watching it jiggle and bounce with his thrusts. “I’ll make you feel good like this every day if you let me. S’what you deserve, getting fucked like you need, huh?”

Your answering moan is spurred on not only by his words but the graze of his length on your g-spot. “Eddie, god! Yes, right there,” your voice is a babble, the words running into each other ‘yesrigh’there’ as it becomes the only thing you can say.

The pulsing gush around him, hot wet heat, makes Eddie moan with you. “I know, baby. I know.” His back teeth press together as he holds on, the cord of pleasure pulled tight in his pelvis. The slapping pounding sound fills the room but he can only hear you, almost crying with pleasure.

“Close,” you murmur, slumped forward a little more. The angle arches your back, pulls Eddie deeper. Your groan is shaky, broken with want.

“Me too, baby. Got me so wound up,” he murmurs. “Can you touch yourself for me?” He watches your hand move back between your legs, feels the graze of your fingers as you bring yourself closer, small tight circles that sync up with his punishingly good pace.

“Fuck! Eddie,” you whimper, feeling the inferno in your belly burn bright and hot as you see stars, tears springing as you come hard.

“Shit shit, that’s my girl. Oh yeah, fuck,” he grinds out, continuing his thrusts as your body shakes with pleasure. Eddie folds over you, wrapping his arms around you to bring you back into his lap like a rag doll. He can’t bear to not be as close to you as humanly possible as he nears his own orgasm, mouth pressed to your neck to kiss and pant against it as he hammers into you.

His fingers trail down, finding a quick rhythm that brings you to a shock of a second climax, shorter but no less intense than the first. You feel boneless, yet manage to pull his hand away when it becomes too much, holding his arm around your middle as the other curls up and loops around his neck. Your lips find their way to Eddie’s jaw, pressing wet kisses there. Your eyes are heavy, and yet you see the moment he falls apart.

His eyes close, face creasing in beautiful blissful agony as he comes holding you in his lap, your name on his tongue.

Your chest feels heavy, breath synced up as your fingers stroke up against his scalp, past the flyaways. He kisses you messily, so slow and without the same hurry he had mere moments ago.

Your noses brush against each other’s warm cheeks, lazy smiles pressing kisses as hands smooth and caress wherever is in reach. You feel fuzzy around the edges, warm all over with Eddie plastered to your back. You would both gladly overheat to stay like this a bit longer. Eddie’s lean arms are the only thing holding you together right now, grounded syrupy-sweet kisses that bond the broken bits back into place.

“Wanna see my girl,” he murmurs after a few moments mouthing at your shoulder, “Easy, babe.” Eddie’s hands on your waist help you to move from his lap, unsheathing him from your body. He wraps the condom in a tissue before lying back, inviting you into his arms with grabby hands.

You bring the blanket from the back of the sofa with you when you lie against his chest, sharing love-drunk kisses as you bask in the glow of each other.

It’s bright-cold outside the steamed-up windows; the afternoon sun lights the room. His neighbours will surely hate you, but when Eddie strokes his tongue against yours you forget to care.

You brush his sweaty bangs away and press a kiss to the centre of his forehead before resting your head against his chest, tucked under his chin as his hand finds yours. He kisses your knuckles and smiles down at you.

“Y’okay?” he checks, rosy-cheeked bright-eyed and deliriously happy. Sometimes he feels the need to pinch himself when he realises the woman he had been pining for is now his girlfriend. One time you had been lying together smoking and watching a rerun of Twin Peaks and he had actually asked you to pinch him - his nipple had ached for the rest of the night but at least he knew it was all real. And you had kissed it better.

Now you smile lazily up at him, real and cosy in his arms. “Never better,” you promise. Your nose scrunches when he kisses it and calls you his little bunny to make you laugh.

Eddie lights a cigarette and holds it to your lips when you’re too comfy to move. It brings you both back to the real world, back from the plain of absolute bliss. It’s quiet, neither feeling the need to fill the comfortable silence until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where’d you get them?” you ask, lifting your joined hands to finally speak the question you have been meaning to ask. Your fingers slot between Eddie’s, palm to palm, as you admire the silver.

“Been kinda building a little collection since school. Thrift shops mainly.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder; he’s careful not to jostle you too much as you lie against his chest. He pauses to catch a fallen eyelash on your cheek, holding it out to you to blow away. You smile a little and lift your head to wish for a thousand more afternoons like this.

“I have two nice ones; my friends pooled together for a graduation present for me, and the other one, this one,” Eddie shows you his right middle finger, a harmless flip-off to show you the black enamel heart with wings that he always wears. It’s smaller, less outrightly demonic than the others. The rest of his rings are swapped out, usually a lucky dip into a little dish on his bedside table, but this one stays on. “Bought this one for myself when the band went on tour. Something to remember, y’know?”

You had heard about Corroded Coffin’s big opportunity last year, playing a few dates as an opening act for a bigger metal band. Your thumb runs over the warm metal as he begins to speak again.

“It was the last day of tour and I was so fuckin’ tired. We were kinda convinced that we were going to be discovered or something, and the crowds really liked us but… it didn’t happen how we had planned.”

You expect to hear sadness in his voice but there is none. Maybe a hint of resignation that their dream hadn’t become reality.

“Me and Gareth had a fight on the last morning, both of us were hungover as fuck and antsy because it was all going to be over in a few hours. So I stormed off to get breakfast and clear my head, or get more fucked up.” Eddie’s little smile doesn’t meet his eyes; they look a little bit more glossy than usual. “It was my Mom’s birthday and I felt like shit. I would say I found this little jeweller-silversmith place but I think it found me.”

You squeeze Eddie tighter, feeling like he’s letting you see a whole new part of him. A beautiful little sentimental part that houses and holds dear the other woman he loved and the little boy he was when he lost her.

“It was way more money than I should have spent on something so small, but it felt right I couldn’t leave it behind y’know? I went in and it was right there.” His eyes sparkle as he remembers that feeling of all-over calm he felt that day in the little shop. “Went back and apologised to Gare and we played the last show, definitely our best one.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his mouth, “That’s a sweet story, Ed. Thank you for telling me.” Your voice is a whisper against his pillowy lips; you kiss those lips again and feel the silver against your cheek as Eddie kisses you back. Your chest feels like it could burst and there’s an annoying pressure at the back of your eyes.

“You’re gonna laugh at me but..” Eddie rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the arm of the sofa. He figures out his words before speaking again. “It’s like, everything happened for a reason - we didn’t get a big break but we’re all happy. Gareth got into art school, Jeff moved out of his Mom’s place and… I met you.”

Silence.

His honesty winds you, it hits you so hard in the chest that you can barely fathom the flurry of feelings like wings battering your chest from the inside. Your lower lip wobbles. Eddie is dead serious too; you know he’s not saying it to be playful. He has so much love in his battered heart and it oozes from him.

Eddie was expecting you to scoff or roll your eyes, call him ‘soft boy’ or something. Maybe a very small part of him thought you might brush him off (he didn’t let himself dwell on that bit). He certainly wasn’t expecting the teary look in your eyes.

“Shit, baby.” He thumbs your cheek and pouts back at you, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips; so sweet and slow like the maple syrup you have been adding to your coffees now that it’s Fall. “I mean it. If things went differently, if I didn’t come back, I wouldn’t have met the sexy new bartender, huh?”

You smile, laugh a little wetly and try to blame the post-sex rush for being weepy. “I guess I’m a little bit glad you came back to be annoying. Super selfish of me.”

You can’t help but think that there might be some parallel universe where you’re still shaking cocktails in Jackie’s but Eddie’s on stage opening for Metallica, Corroded Coffin at the top of the charts. With that thought comes a deep-sinking feeling that maybe someday you might not be enough and he will want that rockstar life; groupies, supermodels, a pretty blonde actress on his arm.... Not you.

Eddie kisses you again and pulls you close, cocooning the pair of you in the blanket. You find his hand to kiss the black enamel heart before resting your head, cheek to chest.

You have never felt so in love, nor have you felt so scared. Eddie feels lighter now that he has said out loud the thought about fate that has been rattling around his skull for too long. He feels your arms wrapping tighter around him, like he might disappear.

He presses his smiling lips fiercely to the crown of your head. “What’s goin’ on in here, huh? I can hear that big brain thinkin’ up a storm.” He thinks over everything he said; was he coming on too strong?

“I just really really like you, Ed,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. Telling him that felt so easy; maybe if you weren’t being sucked into an internal doom spiral you could play it up and roll your eyes, pretend it was icky to like him.

“Yeah? I really really like you too.” Your admission makes his heart sing; Eddie tries to temper his smile but can’t. He won’t pretend he’s not head over heels for you, he’d give you a vital organ if you needed it - hell, his heart was already yours.

He cups your cheek again, coaxing you to look at him. “What else? You’re like… a scared little bunny right now.” He concentrates all his love into how he’s holding you as if it could be transferred like magic from his fingertips.

“I just...”

He doesn’t force you to go on when you hide your face in his chest, feeling so stupid for being emotional. Your eyes burn, and he wishes he could be whatever you need right now. He’s not used to seeing his bossy flirty girl so unsure of herself; it makes him love you a little more. He looks up at the ceiling and squeezes your body gently.

“Hey. You don’t have to say anything, just listen okay? I’m serious about you, about... Everything I feel for you.” His voice shakes minutely but he takes a moment, stroking your back to centre himself. “I’m not going to up and leave someday to be a rockstar without you. I need you. Okay? You’re my girl. Best thing that’s happened to me in so so long.” Eddie presses a fiercely loving kiss to your head. “I’m yours, all yours.”

A tiny shaky sob escapes your throat, leaving you embarrassed. “I’m your girl,” you nod, looking up to see Eddie’s sentimental smile, his wet brown eyes. Your voice is thin and wobbly, like a broken pencil. “I’m so fuckin’ happy with you, Eddie.”

Neither of you says it, but ‘I love you’ is woven into your confessions, binding you together as you share that moment on Eddie’s squishy, comfy sofa.

You tilt your head to exchange teary-wet kisses, wobbly smiles on your lips as you begin to feel calmer.

“My baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t bottle shit up, okay? Doesn’t help.” He cups your face, wiping the last stray tears from your cheeks and presses kisses there as a balm.

“I know. I feel stupid for getting upset, it’s like so early for us..” You look down at his chest, trace the black ink you can reach before looking at his pretty face. You know it’s so early, so why get ahead of yourself when Eddie’s already made you a promise? You take a breath, close your eyes and focus on what you really want, “When can I come to see Corroded Coffin play?”

Eddie grins, laughs a little throaty. They had taken a little break after tour, played a few bars in the Spring to make sure they didn’t rust up. With Gareth settled back in college, they were ready to get back into it.

“We’re trying to get a gig for the end of the month. Andy knows a guy putting on a night close to Halloween. Jeff’s the organised one though, I’ll check with him tonight.” He kisses your head and smiles. “I gotta get you a shirt, huh?”

“Mhm, yes please. I heard the lead singer is so hot,” you say, smiling a little when he makes a happy noise deep in his throat. “Might throw my bra on stage if he’s as good as they say…” The thought of seeing your man on stage - your man - makes your tummy flutter.

“Yeah? Shit, lucky guy.”

You look up at Eddie and move yourself to rest your forehead against his. “The luckiest. I’m the luckiest girl though.” You mean it too, sealing it with a kiss.

Eddie cups the back of your head, pressing the loveliest kisses to your mouth. “Lucky fuckers,” he murmurs. You trade kisses back and forth, chasing lazy happy smiles for ‘just one more?’ until you need to move.

“Can I shower? Feel sweaty.” Your time together before work is already ticking away, though you’ve made excellent use of it so far.

“Can I come watch? I mean wash your back?” he asks, walking his fingers down your spine with a coy little smile.

“You just want to see soapy boobs,” you tut, looping your arms around his neck as he sits up, taking you with him.

“What guy doesn’t want to see soapy boobs?” he asks, incredulous at the thought.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, humming in agreement, “You still got that disposable camera?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide - you half expect his heart to beat out of his chest, eyes on stalks like a babbling cartoon. “Yes ma’am.”

He dumps you off his lap onto the sofa to root for the camera in his room. The sound of his sweary search carry down the hall as you laugh up at the ceiling.

You love him. You absolutely love Eddie Munson. He’s very easy to love.

Later, when you’re showered clean (a process which required getting just a little bit dirty again with Eddie worshipping you on his knees in the shower) and full-bellied after the dinner you had brought, you and Eddie get ready for work side-by-side in his room.

You’re putting mascara on in his mirror, humming to Queen despite Eddie’s protests, when you hear him call your name.

“Mhm?”

Eddie’s dressed in a black Henley and some jeans - his leather boots and jacket to go on next. You see the glint of silver around his neck as he nods for you to join him on the bed.

“Help me pick what rings to wear?” he asks, voice soft and tentative.

Your heart skips and you nod, crossing the gap to perch on his lap as you pick three more for him to wear - an upside-down cross, a very mean-looking skull, a silver signet ring with ‘EM’ engraved (the gift from his friends for graduation).

He lets you choose where they go and watches as you slip them onto his long fingers. “Perfect,” he murmurs, linking your hands together.

“Pretty damn perfect,” you agree, kissing the back of his hand so he will show you that bright and beaming grin.

You love him, you love him, you love him. And Eddie? He already can’t wait to put a ring on your finger.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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ada7201 · 4 months

Text

what do the blue lock boys do for you on valentine’s day?（╹◡╹）♡

Shidou, Rin, Sae, Kaiser x reader (seperate)

→ part 1 ⭢ part 2 ⭢ part 3 on the way!

gn! reader, google translated German for Kaiser’s part

don’t forget to suggest me things if you have any ideas! happy early valentine’s day (๑>◡<๑)

Shidou Ryusei

he gets you a TON of sweets (which he eats half of)

Sae once told him that love letters were a common thing for valentine’s day, so he tried to make you one.

it was a piece of paper, which was poorly folded and drowned pink glitter glue. he used scented gel pens to write a few “i love you’s” and smiley faces… it’s the thought that counts?

wrapped a ribbon around his neck and called himself your valentine’s gift.

decided it would be fun to wear your lipstick and kiss your cheeks - staining your skin with kiss marks

for lunch, he brought you to the park where you both played around, and afterwards sat down somewhere on the playground and munched on sweets (of your choice!)

the two of you watched those romance dramas together in the evening and fell asleep on an episode you weren’t paying attention to

“come on sweets, it’ll be fun!” Shidou whined, clinging onto your arm like a monkey, smushing his cheek against your shoulder as he pouted. why wouldn’t you let him do your makeup? “im great at makeup! you know that! i’ll do a special valentine’s day theme〜”

“Shidou- no!” you groaned, attempting to pry the taller man off of your arm. “you will not do my makeup, and that’s final!”

“fine…” Shidou sighed dramatically, letting go of you and falling to the floor in a pathetic manner. “guess you just hate me… and you’d even do this on valentine’s day?”

you huffed. he could be such a pain sometimes…

“alright, you can do my-“ your voice was cut off by Shidou’s big hand on your lips, a grin on his face.

“no need to talk more, bae - let’s get started…” he’d chuckle, almost evilly, before pulling out your makeup bag from the pocket of his sweatpants.

“how did you—?” you were cut off once again by his hand, and that stupid smile on his face.

“ah-ah,” he’d wiggle his pointer finger, before poking your cheek.

“let me do my magic!”

by the end of that hour, your face was decorated with sparkly stickers and hearts drawn in pink lipstick. your eyeshadow was almost terrifying, with the way it was so bright - brighter than Shidou’s eyes.

“perfect.” he’d giggle, hand on his mouth as he tried to hold back from full on cackling in your face.

surprisingly, Shidou isn’t bad at makeup - he just wanted to be a little silly for you on valentine’s day!

he posted a photo of you and your makeup, along with cute photos of the two of you throughout the day - like one of the heart engraved onto a bench with your initials, or maybe the photo of you sleeping peacefully with a bow stuck to your forehead - totally not Shidou’s doing!

he also baked with you - but it didn’t turn out great so you both decided to order takeout instead.

takeout wasn’t the most romantic meal, but it sure best whatever you both made…

Itoshi Rin

poor baby didn’t know what to do at first.

he spent a couple weeks planning and brainstorming ideas in his free time - even considering asking Isagi for advice.

instead of turning to that lukewarm freak, he chose to go with what he thought you’d like the most.

he bought you a sweet and simple bouquet, assorted with flowers of your favorite colours and type.

he wrote you a card, and got a plus he’d toy with it too.

he placed everything next to you in the morning, since he wakes up considerably earlier than you do.

when you woke up, you were pleasantly surprised with everything. thanks Rin!

when he got back home, he made the two of you some lunch.

he didn’t want to admit it, but he had been waiting to use the cute little heart plates you had bought especially for valentine’s day.

“this bowl is so cute!” you’d smile, admiring the pretty white plate decorated with pink and red hearts. “is this the one i got you valentine’s day?”

he simply nodded, placing down his plate - and sitting on the chair opposite you.

posted a photo of the two of you holding hands, along with a pretty sunset you both witnessed on your evening walk.

he definitely wasn’t too embarrassed to include the photo he took of your plates! he just wanted to be the only ones to see them

yes, he took you out on a walk in the evening - and when he noticed you shivering, he was quick to wrap his scarf around you and drape his jacket over your shoulders - not realising he just exposed himself and the pink shirt you had gotten him.

his face turned the same colour as his shirt! cute!

“Rin, why is your face so pink? are you getting cold?” you ask him, worried gaze focused on the way his cheeks were pink. “do you want your jacket back—?”

Rin quickly cut you off with a small peck, cheeks blushing even more after the small gesture.

“i was just… blushing.” he mumbles, looking away from you as a teasing smile made its way onto your face.

“aww, you were blushing〜”

Itoshi Sae

bought you a bouquet of purple roses.

purple roses mean love at first sight. <3

he also got you a matching set of earrings, a necklace, bracelet, and an anklet.

along with jewellery, he got you a piece of fancy clothing that he saw you eyeing. (example: dress, suit, button up, tie, skirt, and more! your decision)

got you a pack of cupcakes as a desert for lunch (or any yummy food if your choice)

he spent most of the day taking photos of you and admiring how beautiful you were - even with morning hair, even if you were still in your cheesy pyjamas matching that Sae got you, even if you had your face stuffed with sweets - you were beautiful and Sae wanted to capture that moment. (this is a regular occurrence, but was feeling it a bit more today!)

either takes you to a beautiful and expensive restaurant, or hosts one at home with candles lit nicely.

this valentine’s day, he chose to eat out with you - and brought you to one of the newest and most expensive restaurants in town.

“wow, Sae! this is really nice!” you smiled, placing your fork down next to your plate before looking up at Sae, who was sat opposite you.

“you deserve 10 times more.” he’d respond simply, shrugging off your words with a slight blush on his cheeks.

he watched the way your smile grew. cute.

could it be the perfect time?

“y/n.” Sae said, almost quietly - before pushing his chair back and standing up.

his slim fingers reached into the pocket of his nice dress pants - and you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken. what was he about to do?

“i have loved you since the first day i met you.” he started, hand wrapping around a small velvet box, before pulling it out of his pocket - he wasted no time on getting down on one knee, eyes looking up at the way you stared back down at him. “do you think that… you could make me even happier, and marry me?” he asks with a small smile on his face.

im sorry, but i definitely feel like he’s the type to propose on valentine’s day!

on the drive home, you had to remind him to her his eyes on the road because he kept admiring the pretty ring on your finger!

bought you another pair of cheesy pyjamas - this time, they were pink cat onesies.

he took so many photos of you and your cute little smile!

he posted a photo of your hand with the ring, being held by his

it took him a good 15 minutes to decide what photo to choose for the ring photo

along with the ring photo, he posted a picture of the two of you in your onesies, a photo of his hand on your thigh as you were both in his car - along with some others of the two of you having fun

Sae was stood in the jewellery shop, looking down at each glimmering ring in the display case.

his cheeks blushed as he imagined each one of them on your pretty hands, how could he ever choose?!

he just could not wait to hold your hand, and look down at the ring.

“um, Sir?” the accountant could ask, waving a hand in front of Sae’s face - who was currently spacing out and fantasising about holding your hand.

oh, guess he got caught up thinking about you.

just then, his eyes caught the most beautiful ring. he could practically see the happy face you’d make when he presents it to you!

he wasted no time pointing to the ring, neutral gaze looking back at the woman.

“i want that one.” he says flatly.

no woman other than you deserves to even look at him. how dare that saleslady even talk to him?

(this wasn’t on valentine’s day, but he practically danced out of the shop when he finally bought the ring)

Micheal Kaiser

how bold of you to assume he’d get you something?

jokes!

he bought you a bouquet of blue roses (a little cliche, but you it’s his thing!)

like Sae, he bought you a lot of pretty jewellery.

got you the prettiest piece of clothing, one that would match an outfit he bought for himself.

he absolutely insisted that it was a coincidence.

for lunch, he brought you to a diner he knew you liked - but when you asked, oh you liked this place? he never knew!

made sure to show you off more than usual the whole day, saying things like “they’re the only person worthy of my love” and other egoistical love confessions, if you get what i mean

for dinner, the two of you dressed up in your matching outfits

he practically begged you to be able to do your hair. (he’ll never ever admit it though, not with his ego)

when you were both finally dressed, you went to a party that his team was hosting.

when the two of you got home, he basically fell asleep on you!

“i’m not falling asleep.” he’d huff, unconsciously nuzzling further into your stomach as her hugged your waist. he just … wanted attention.

“sure,” you’d tease, fingers threading through his hair gently. “is that why you’re cuddled up to me right now?”

“ruhig sein,” he’d huff. “or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

ruhig sein = “be quiet” / “pipe down”

you simply giggle at his words, patting his head gently.

“i’m sorry.” you’d pout playfully, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Kaiser had always loved being babied by you.

it was somehow… comforting?

posted a mirror selfie of the two of you, and maybe, just maybe, a photo of your cute smiling face - if i felt like it!

The next morning, Kaiser woke up to his phone buzzing constantly - and you clinging onto his side. he couldn’t help but bask in the glory of being so famous. he had a pretty person next to him in bed and his post has most likely gone viral once again.

he reached over to the side table and picked his phone up, u locking it quickly to read the comments left on his newest post - which was of the two of you yesterday.

“best couple!” “they’re made for each other.” “y/n looks so pretty!” “they’re matching!?”

was very excited to have so many compliments.

he realised that he gets a lot more when he posts photos of you

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