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todoscript · 3 years

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SYNOPSIS: Years of memories pouring out, Katsuki and Shouto confront their feelings for you in your very hospital room.

pairing(s): bakugou katsuki x fem!reader, todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: angst.

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: really self-indulgent fic, characters are aged-up, implied sexual content, mentions of drinking alcohol, jealousy, reader identifies as female with she/her pronouns,

author’s note: so i found this pretty old wip i wrote before i made my blog, and after reading it over, i decided hey why not publish it? so i finished it up, did some cleaning, and heres what we got. sorry if it seems kind of shaky, i did my best with what i initially had!

“Bakugou… what are you doing here?”

Shouto enters the room with freshly bought peonies in his hands—one of the many dozen he had brought to this hospital already—his steps coming to a halt at the sight of the Explosion Hero near your hospital bed. Katsuki looks up and narrows his eyes, aggravated by the offender’s question.

“What? You got a fucking problem with me being here?” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb the entire hospital wing, knowingly admitting to how loud he could be. But that doesn’t suppress the bite in his tone.

“Just because you’re her fucking boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re the only one that’s allowed to worry about her,” he nearly spits, and Shouto’s face mirrors Katsuki’s own irked expression.

You have been unconscious for a week now. The cause of this incident was due to your encounter with a dangerous villain who had been wanted by the police for quite some time. Months of evading capture down the drain, the villain had unfortunately ran into you as you patrolled the streets during your nightly shift.

In the end, you won the fight, but at the cost of damage done to your body and overuse of your quirk. As a result, you entered an unconscious state, recovering in this hospital bed to be monitored by medical staff throughout each day. The doctors assured them that you would eventually wake up but will need time to heal on your own through rest.

Ever since the day you’ve been admitted here, Shouto has been visiting your bedside. However, this is the first time Katsuki’s shown up.

Shouto only points a glare to the blond, ignoring him while he sets his bouquet down next to your bed. He notices the already present vase of hydrangeas, surmising that Katsuki must have brought them. He places his bundle of peonies beside them.

The dual-haired man sits on the opposite side of the bed from Katsuki, whose attention is brought back to the girl’s sleeping face, patched with wraps and bandages as a result of your tribulations with the villains.

If I had finished my jobs quicker, I would’ve been able to see you the moment you had to stay in this damn hospital. The thoughts ring in Katsuki’s head, hands clenched into fists out of frustration.

Knowing you had to deal with that whack job of a villain on your own—that your overprotective and valiant nature wouldn’t allow you to let this criminal walk away when you encountered him, and that they weren’t there to prevent you from getting like this—killed both him and Shouto on the inside. They especially hated not knowing when you would wake up or if what the doctors said about you eventually regaining consciousness would even be true.

Shouto takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. Katsuki catches him pressing delicate kisses against your lightly bruised knuckles from the corner of his eye, the young man not caring that he was performing these intimate acts in the presence of another man. Shouto especially did this in order to make a solid point:

She’s mine.

Katsuki knew very well how possessive Shouto could be while he was in their presence. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If he got to call you his and keep you all to himself, he’d make sure everyone knew they couldn’t have you—that your smile and attention were all his and his alone. But in this case, they weren’t, and all he could settle for were envious emotions and fantasies of what could’ve been.

•

Bakugou Katsuki’s feelings for you date back to as early as your high school years at U.A.

At first, he wasn’t entirely sure what made these feelings arise. Having his goal of becoming the Number One hero plastered at the forefront of his head made romance and love trivial concepts down his path. Katsuki had no time to be chasing after girls, going on dates, and devoting a chunk of his time to a partner.

However, at one point, things started to change. He felt ripples affect the still waters that were his life, and he noticed that only you could calm this torrent. You were the one person he sought comfort in, the one person that understood who he was and why he acted the way he did. And the one person who mended him physically and mentally without belittling his character or crushing his pride.

Through all of that, Katsuki had begun to appreciate and admire all the little things about you. Like your beaming smile and the twinkle in the lovely hues of your eyes that you’d give him as you two interacted. It was such a welcomed contrast to the fearful looks the other students would have etched on their faces whenever he so much as called out their name.

He always took note of how you adjusted his food to his preferences during times you were assigned to cook that night at the dorms. And how you’d go and try to tend to him after training, when his muscles ached and his bruises were settling into his skin.

At first, Katsuki thought of it as a sign of weakness—to accept help from someone else when at his most vulnerable state. Yet you were persistent.

He recalls a particular memory after a battle during his internship where he was reduced to resting in bed to recover. Not many of his classmates came up to check on him during that time. Mainly because they figured he wouldn’t bother to open his door for them anyway. Though one night, he heard a knock sounding from his door. He glanced up from his bed, already thinking about ignoring the visitor in favor of staying in bed to rest, but a voice spoke beyond the threshold.

“Katsuki? I hope you’re not asleep yet. It’s not much, but I made you a little something to help you get better.” He didn’t reply upon recognizing your voice, hesitating to see what you’d do if he didn’t respond.

There was a pause of silence until you eventually continued. “Well, I’ll leave this in front of your door for you to have… If not, I’ll come back and retrieve it, okay?” That was the last you said before Katsuki picked up a light clank near the bottom of the entrance. Afterward, feet padded lightly down the hallway till they returned to the elevator to descend to the bottom floors, and the blond was by himself once again.

He weighed the option of leaving whatever you left for him untouched, but knowing you made an effort to arrive at his door to check on him caused him to waver. Before he knew it, his feet treaded to the spot to discover a hot plate of curry at his doorstep, followed by a note and painkillers. The plate perched on one of his hands, he opened the letter with the other.

Get better soon! We’ll be waiting for you!

Closing the note, he tossed it on his desk before plopping down on the edge of his bed with the plate of curry in his lap. It steamed and dispersed heat on his sore thighs, piping hot and ready to eat.

He gripped his spoon between his fingers, an irregular grin surfacing his lips. He scooped up the spicy bits of curry, gobbling the dish down to its very last grain of rice until the plate was clean. And in that time, every bite he brought to his mouth made him think of you.

“Dumbass, there’s no way I’m falling behind.” Feeling thoroughly full, he transferred the finished plate to his desk, where he had left the note. Before he had even realized it, he reached out for the paper, glancing over the words one last time. He fished a pen from his drawer and scribed a reply of his own for when you would return for the dirty plate.

Thanks, dumbass. It was good.

•

The Icy-Hot Hero, Todoroki Shouto, loved you too much to let you go.

You were the girl that shaped him to become the person he is today—who taught him to embrace himself for who he was and not let his past define him and what he stood for. You were the person that brought him out from the dark hole he trapped himself in and cast him into warm light. You’ve stuck together through thick and thin throughout your journey to becoming Pro Heroes, protecting one another and watching each other’s backs. It wasn’t long before he noticed his feelings for you had developed into more complicated emotions. Emotions that made butterflies flutter in his stomach and his face unusually hot whenever he even glanced in your direction. As he began to actively seek you out for comfort and support, he thought of you differently in comparison to all of his other classmates.

Initially, these foreign feelings troubled him. Yet, he could never quite piece together why you could garner such flustered reactions.

Then after consoling these newfound sensations with his close friends and family, he realized that you meant so much more to him than just a classmate, an ally, a colleague. Todoroki Shouto was—is—in love with you.

And the feeling was mutual.

Whether it was the intense looks you two sent as your gazes naturally drifted to each other or how your hands would always brush across soft and calloused knuckles in a silent plea to lace your fingers together, it wasn’t long before he discovered that his feelings for you were reciprocated.

Interestingly, you and Shouto never had to confess anything to each other. Your feelings came almost naturally for you both like you were telepathically linked and on the same wavelength. You came to one another like magnets attracted to their opposite poles, and in just a blink, your lips had met one day, and you took each other’s first kiss.

From then on was the start of many more “firsts.”

Shouto remembers the first time he let you hang out in his dorm room, talking about simple things like school, studying, and internships.

He remembers your first date to a cafe his older sister recommended—the one with flavorful milk teas he knew you’d take a liking to, with bountiful flowers decorating the interior of the tea house.

He remembers inviting you into his home to meet his older siblings, have dinner with them, and letting his family get to know you as his significant other.

He remembers taking you to see his mother at the psychiatric ward his wretched father had admitted her to, finally letting the two most significant women in his life meet and watching as his mother took a relieved liking to the girl he loves.

He remembers the tension that hovered in the air over an argument you two had one day, which was eventually mended through communication and reaffirmations of love.

He remembers embracing you in his bed, devoid of nothing but yourselves in your purest forms, eliciting sweet sounds from your lips that intoxicated him with lust and drove him to desire more and more until he monopolized every crevice of your body—every ounce of your soul—and intended to burn your beautiful, sinful image into his memory.

He remembers so much of the little things and the significant things about your love that he could never, ever hand you over to anyone else. Less of all to Bakugou Katsuki.

•

Katsuki was one of the first people to notice that they were in a relationship.

At first, it wasn’t obvious. The two made a point to keep their romantic bond a secret among their classmates and teachers not to complicate things and be the subject of teasing. They also considered the fact they needed to focus on their studies and hero training. Kisses and other affectionate touches were done behind closed doors or whenever they knew no eyes could discover them. These sneaky tactics proved to be effective and not many questioned them about relationships, aside from the occasional girls/boys talk they’d do. They’d ask each other things like “who would you date” and “don’t you think ‘so-and-so’ is cute” and many other curious asks. Their answers to these inquiries were inconspicuous enough that most of their friends didn’t suspect much of anything. Except for Katsuki.

Katsuki was never one to pick apart details, not as much as his childhood rival, Deku, anyway. But the more he looked at them, the more he was aware of the particular hints and their subtleties of tenderness. Such as the way the red-and-white-haired boy would perk up at the sound of your name or the chime of your voice from across the dormitory’s common area. Or the way you two would hover around each other more often than you would your classmates as if maximizing the most of your time together in public. Or how you’d go on small study dates together and hold each other’s hand underneath the table in the library, thinking no one would notice.

Perhaps, the most significant indication, however, was the expressions on each of their faces.

Maybe Katsuki had started becoming very hyper-aware, unraveling your mannerisms and making out even the smallest of singularities, but he felt your faces alone were an obvious giveaway.

The looks you gave each other were ones harboring nothing but pure love and adoration. He could discern the glow you exuded simply basking one another’s presence. Those looks weren’t ones you would give to a close friend; they were something more. He would know. That look Shouto gives is the same one Katsuki has for you, after all.

Except, his is never reciprocated.

That pretty smile, the flustered expression across your cheeks, the sparkling hues of your eyes—all those little details were reserved for Shouto, not Katsuki.

It hurt to know that the gaze you give Katsuki wouldn’t ever be the same one you give to Shouto. Katsuki knows this, and yet he still can’t seem to get past you.

The moment he was aware of his feelings—reluctantly fathoming the fact that you were with Shouto—Katsuki did everything in his power to stop these feelings.

No, not just stop. He had to get rid of them. Cut any connection with them. Dealing with an aching heart was too much work and pain for a boy with heavy aspirations to bear. So he ignored you—erased you. He didn’t so much as spare you even a glance as if you were just another extra. Whenever you appeared, he made a move to leave, spouting excuses such as “I’m going to sleep,” or “I don’t have time to be around you losers,” the usual Bakugou Katsuki response to any form of unnecessary socializing. He had to act like you didn’t exist, put his mind on something else—anything else.

But darn that girl and her need to check on and care for other people.

Noticing something was wrong with the boy, you sought Katsuki out, cornering him. You asked him what was wrong, to which Katsuki gritted his teeth, unable to look at you in the eyes, knowing that those feelings would bubble up inside him again as they conjured troublesome butterflies in the pits of his stomach. Yet it was no use.

He couldn’t deny that he missed those times together—when you would patch up his wounds and bruises after training or when you’d let him try out your spicy ailments before half-and-half because you always knew he had a preference for spicy foods. He still had it bad for you.

And he continued to harbor those feelings even after you all graduated after your third year at U.A.

The heroes-in-training were ready to take on the real world as Pro Heroes and sidekicks. By then, you and Shouto had admitted to the class about your relationship. Some were surprised, while others, specifically the girls, expressed their rounds of “I knew it!” likely noticing the chemistry between the two long before. Katsuki had decided to play dumb and acted like this announcement meant completely nothing to him. Just useless news. That was what he told himself, anyway.

After that, Katsuki didn’t see much of the couple around. All of them were busy with work and trying to get their names out in the public to compete on the Billboard Hero Chart.

Which was good news for him. With his goal of becoming the Number One Hero still lodged into his head, the blond threw himself into his heroic duties. Often, he didn’t stop, persisting on job after job until the agency he was under forced him to take breaks whenever they deemed necessary for his health. In those times, Katsuki found himself slowly forgetting about you. But occasionally, he’d see glimpses of you again.

As expected of one of the graduates under Class A of U.A., you were definitely making a name for yourself and propelling in popularity. Whether he wanted to or not, Katsuki would see articles and advertisements glowing with your resplendent features plastered on headlines, covered by your hero name.

God, did you look as beautiful as always. Katsuki would think before jolting his mind back to reality, remembering that you weren’t his to ogle.

The last part was hard to bear, especially when his former class announced a reunion party at a restaurant Momo had reserved for them when everyone had hit the legal drinking age. Katsuki was definitely not keen on going. However, his friend Kirishima had convinced him to come along through relentless persistence.

Ultimately, he attended the reunion. He and Eijirou arrived together and appeared relatively earlier. Well, earlier than at least half the class anyway. Eventually, more of their former classmates trickled into the food establishment and greeted one another with boisterous cheers all around. Which, unfortunately for him, included the people Katsuki dreaded to see the most—you and Shouto.

Your hand was already laced with half-and-half’s when you two entered, resulting in some of their classmates teasing you about your public display of affection. Both didn’t mind though. Over the years, you’ve grown quite comfortable with hand-holding and even hugging in the open.

You know who did mind? A certain explosion hero, of course.

Save that shit for when I don’t have to fucking see it. He almost hissed out loud but bit his tongue at the last second.

To his luck, you had ended up sitting next to him, with Shouto at your left. Though you were sandwiched between two guys from your former class who were infatuated with you, Katsuki felt like he was more suffocated than you were.

The reunion that night went by relatively smoothly. You would chime in some small talk with Katsuki during certain intervals of time while everyone was holding their own conversations in the background. He did his best to keep his cool and not let himself act like a high schooler in love. To some degree, he thought his facade had worked as he played off his usual “Bakugou responses,” albeit with a lot less yelling and venom in comparison to how he spoke to everyone back in high school. Dare he say, he might have even softened up a bit. What he didn’t notice was Shouto glancing at him from the corner of his eye while in the middle of a conversation with Midoriya.

The night continued with rounds of alcohol poured across the table of twenty-one heroes. They made their cheers before helping themselves to their spirits. Conveniently, Shouto and Katsuki were very adept at holding their drinks. You? You weren’t as great. By the end of the night, you passed out from how drunk you were and had ended up laying your head on the table, head floaty and light.

By then, everyone else had left aside from maybe five or so people. Momo graciously helped the couple secure a cab home safely for the night, and Shouto had gotten up to help confirm some information. Katsuki was left to his own devices with you next to him.

His eyes couldn’t help but wander toward your form. You were so vulnerable in front of him, with your soft lips, splayed hair, and long eyelashes turned in his direction for him to see. Though a bit of that smell of alcohol lingered, he could still make out the flowery aroma you always gave off. You smelled of lavenders, daisies, roses—every fucking flower under the sun—with a hint of honey. Your scent intoxicated him. He started to wonder if this is how you smelled like at home, or if your scent became even more potent whenever you appeared fresh out of the shower and—

Katsuki hadn’t realized his hand had subconsciously gone up to brush a stray hair from your face until he managed to pull himself away from his thoughts. Thankfully, he retracted his hand back before committing himself to the act. But the gesture did not go unnoticed by the heterochromatic-eyed man who had appeared again to gather you in his arms.

Shouto had taken his coat and wrapped it around you before hooking his arms beneath you to cradle your body.

“Mm, Shouto…” you hummed against him, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled further into him while on the verge of sleep. Katsuki’s heart throbbed hearing those half-dazed murmurs that left your lips, which hovered so close to that bastard’s neck. He wanted the privilege of holding you close and taking care of you at your most vulnerable.

“Come on, love, we’re going home,” he said fondly at your resting state. Katsuki didn’t catch the cold glare Shouto sent his way as he looked elsewhere to avoid the couple’s intimacy right in front of him. All he could hear after that was the engine of their cab rumbling in the distance, trailing back to their humble abode.

•

“...I know.” Shouto finally breaks the silence within the hospital room, eyes still trained on his beloved as he rubs his thumb across your knuckles to the base of your hand.

Katsuki looks up at his words incredulously. “The fuck is that suppose to mean.” He narrows his brows into a pressed glare.

“I know that you’re in love with her.”

Katsuki deadpanned, his eyes wavering at the man’s declaration. Should he deny it? Make it seem as if the icy-hot head was delusional? No. He knows that the signs must have been obvious coming from the one man in his way of vying for your attention, the man that would go to so many lengths for you that he’d travel to the moon and back in a heartbeat if it were in your name. Katsuki can’t pry himself out of this one.

He takes a glance at you. Was this really the place to be confronting him about this? In the presence of your unconscious state resting in this hospital bed between them?

“And what about it?” Katsuki counters his claims.

“I don’t plan on letting her go no matter what.” As if to make a point on his words, Shouto’s hold on your limp hand is firm, unmoving. He slowly shifts his gaze to the ash blond, crossing his look of anger. “So stop playing this game.”

When the words travel across the hollow hospital room and to Katsuki’s ears, his fists tighten in response. “Game? Game?!” He raises his voice, body shaking. “You think my feelings are some sort of joke to you?! That I’m only looking at her like this for fun?!” His eyes find Shouto’s blue and gray, red with ire. The young man in front of him is unfazed in the wake of his indignation.

“Let me tell you something fucking straight…” Katsuki starts, stepping forward, finger pointing fiercely in Shouto’s direction. “I won’t deny anything I feel for her at this point. I’m in love with her, alright?” he admits without hesitance and notices the subtle quirk of Icy-Hot’s brow. “And I’ll tell you that if she were mine, she wouldn’t have gotten in this position in the first place.”

Those words are what finally make Shouto’s unnatural composure crumble. He releases your hand to stand from his place and face the blond at eye level. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Crossing his arms, Katsuki scoffs at the question.

“You’d think I’d even let that villain get near her if this was gonna happen?” He gestures in the direction of your patched-up form, asleep and littered with bruises. “If she were looking at me, I would’ve already been on the scene to back her up. And just what were you doing, huh? Helping old ladies cross the street?” Katsuki is unfiltered as he hurls his insults, but three years of dealing with him as a classmate has made Shouto immune to his temperament.

“Let me get this through your head then. She was never looking at you. She was looking at me.”

Ouch. The blond would be lying if those words didn’t stir a pot of hurt inside him.

“And as both her partner and a fellow Pro Hero, I more than trusted her enough to finish the job on her own. Even if this isn’t a game to you, you’re already losing a battle you can’t hope to win.”

“Not sure why you’re the one calling the shots for her,” Katsuki quips. How ironic the girl they’re both fighting over lays comatose in this very bed between them.

The atmosphere is layered in dreadful silence afterward. The monitor next to you beeps in eery succession. It is the only thing heard in the hospital room that is wrapped in tension so taut it is bound to snap at any moment.

The knot of strife is undone by the door sliding open to reveal a nurse entering the uneasy state of the room.

“Mister Bakugou and Mister Todoroki, I’m sorry, but visiting hours at the hospital are closed for the evening,” she informs them as the two had yet to realize the sky veiled darkening orange with the setting of the sun. Eyeing the clipboard hugged to her chest, they knew it was about time for the hospital to assess your condition again.

The two make their leave, taking the time to thank the nurse before doing so, but the suffocating tension follows them even outside the hospital. They don’t speak a word afterwards, only sharing bristled looks and heavy steps until they’re forced to head off in their respective paths, not sparing any more kindness.

To Shouto, Katsuki would never understand the lengths he’d go for you because Katsuki could also never experience what the two of you went through together in the same way. All those years together, forging unforgettable memories of love and tenderness, could never be replicated.

But the blond isn’t bothered by those facts. It doesn’t unnerve him that he was unable to encounter all those firsts with you because in his mind, he’ll just create new memories—ones that you’ve never experienced and ones that will make him the last and only person you’ll ever want by your side. He’ll blow fucking Icy-Hot out of the atmosphere.

ending note: heyyy congrats if you’ve made it to the end. i think at the time i was writing this, i had an idea on how to progress the fic, but i decided to leave it on this. not particularly sure if i’m going to continue this, i may just leave it up to your interpretation. does katsuki steal the readers heart? does shouto protect his love from being severed in front of him? will the reader even wake up? find out on the next episode of dragon ball z

#bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo fic #bakugou fic #todoroki fic #bnha imagine #bnha fic #bakugou imagine #todoroki imagine #todoroki shouto x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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4dtk · 3 years

Note

NCT127 falling in love with a s/o with a time-consuming job like a lawyer or a doctor

NCT 127 with an s/o who has a time-consuming job

this is so cute, thanks for requesting! i made this in a format in the ways that the boys might show their care when you’re so busy with your job :) long as hell LOL enjoy!!

brief spoilers for shang-chi if you haven’t watched! i just watched it this week lol it was really good

→ TAEIL would direct conversations to a more neutral stance. it’s not that he wants to talk about himself, but sometimes if you don’t want to talk about your case or patients, he easily slips into conversation about theories or his favourite tv show or your rundown of what groceries to take for the next time you head to the supermarket. just really normal small things that take your mind off the stress, especially at night when you’re laying in bed and just before you’re drifting off to sleep, the two of you would engage in a topic that you both know fairly well about and then you’re usually the first to succumb to sleep. taeil purposely picks out topic he knows will excite you (and bc he knows you’re passionate about it, he reads up on it which allows a well-balanced convo). if you’re rambling on about a topic, then he’ll occasionally play the guitar while laying down, just simple melodies that bring a lot of peace to the room.

“wait- how d’you like this melody?” taeil softly says, changing it instantly when you commented on the previous, discordant one. your nod encourages him to carry on with the plucking of his fingers while you yourself continue with your rambles. “so i’m saying right, it seems totally unfair for him, and you’d think that, right? but all he ever does is whine and moan about his misfortunes, plus his character is so terribly written i kinda feel sorry for-“

the halted melody prompts a sharp turn of your turn to the guitar, which you almost collide with, “what?” taeil only shrugs. “nothin’. just like how passionate you get about the show, it’s cute.” your boyfriend smiles after, ignoring how his words affect you and how your cheeks heat up at it.

→ JOHNNY is one to take you out after your work. it’s not to a super intense, high-energy place like a club or anything, but small little dates that won’t take up much time. eating dinner at a restaurant, walk in the park, small cafe trip, strolling through supermarket to make fun of brand names. if you’re too tired that day, he always finds a way to make your time at home fun. from setting up a small karaoke session, to maybe making a pillow fort, to trying out new cuddling positions, he has everything on his mind. always showing you things to cheer you up if you happen, from memes to funny videos. is low-key down for you to review crime/doctor shows too, just to see how accurate they nail it. your time at home is consuming endless pieces of media until your tummies hurt or you’re sniffling at a movie together.

“hold on- lemme show you this video,” johnny’s hand is outstretched to you once he finds the video and your spoon full of food is left near your mouth. you proceed to watch the low quality video which your boyfriend claims to be the funniest video on earth.

W-HOR? WAH? the girl’s finger in the video traces over the word “who” as she struggles to pronounce it, with presumably her sister in the background prompting her. the repeated pronunciation of the word makes you snort, while the wheezing and the loud NO in the background causes you to fully erupt into laughter. johnny simply smiles at another successful attempt to make you smile.

→ YUTA always has a hand on you when you return home. he brings you into a hug, he guides you by your back, you have to eat with one hand bc he can’t keep his hand off of you. he hopes his little touches will ease your tiredness even by a bit and if you don’t want it, he’ll stop, but it’s yuta’s way of showing he cares without words. busy days with yuta usually involve just sitting in silence as you catch up on a show or a series, or even listening to a song in silence and enjoying each other’s company. he will talk if you want to, but if not that’s fine too, preferring more to stroke your hair in silence and think about how much he loves you. becomes very sappy when you’re in the quiet of your room and generally is very fond of the small pockets of time you get to spend before you two fall asleep. likes that you’re so resolute in your job but can be soft around him behind closed doors.

“you comfortable?” yuta calls out, barely above a whisper as he wraps an arm tighter around you. there’s comfortable ministrations that his does with his fingers, massaging the skin under your pajamas while you snuggle deeper into his chest. humming, you tighten your hold around his top.

“i am, yeah,” you can’t care much for the tv show on the screen now, with empty takeout boxes and tissues littering the coffee table. you feel the gentle kiss of yuta on your head before you’re drifting off to dreamland to a scratchy, 60s jazz song playing through the speakers.

→ TAEYONG would always welcome you back with a table set and food ready, always. he knows that food is the way to someone’s heart and you eating his food always makes him happy and offers to clean-up. lets you shower first if you come back together, puts you before himself very often that sometimes you have to tell him to tone it down because you don’t want him ending up more tired than he already is. following up on this, taeyong would show his love by cooking your lunches for you. when he has the time he makes the effort to put it in a nice bento or box for you to eat. he also does the general chores around the house (assuming the two of you live together) so the bed will be a little less messy when you come back, the floor’s cleaner, the countertops aren’t so cluttered with stuff. even if there’s nothing to clean up, he always these small little things before you come back, and even if you don’t notice it, he sees the way you’re able to navigate the space or when you’re more at ease and it makes him smile.

“do you want to shower first?” taeyong calls out softly, admiring the clean house he’s managed to do up before he went to meet you, “i’ll just hang around until you’re done.”

“you need to prioritise yourself too, yong,” you pout, rubbing a hand up and down his forehead as you toe off your shoes, “how ‘bout we shower together? you did clean the house up pretty nicely.” that earns a grin and a kiss from taeyong, who goes straight the prepare the bath. you chuckle, “he’s already forgotten what i’ve told him.”

→ DOYOUNG supports you silently and listens to your day when you return home and talk about your patient or a case you’re working on. he gives you his own input when he sees fit but other than that he wants you to explain the details. being a doctor and lawyer is crazy and hectic and just wants you to know that you’re appreciated in the workforce. the way he might show his love when caring for a busy s/o like you is when he brings you stuff that you might’ve forgotten like an umbrella or your lunch since you were rushing out of the house earlier. he doesn’t mind going the extra mile to you literally bc it’s a win-win! you get your food, he gets to see you, etc. if not he’ll send someone over to pass it to the receptionist, or he’ll make up for it by meeting you outside the office to apologise and then ask you what you wanna do so he can make it up to you.

“did you manage to get the bento i bought you?” doyoung asks worriedly through the phone, holding up a hand to the staff member who was beckoning him to his photoshoot. “you bought so much!” you exclaim, with a shoulder to your ear, phone perched in between, “thank you doyoung.”

“’m sorry i couldn’t come over to give you your lunch today, angel. i’ll see you after you’re done with work, okay?” you smile at that, shooting a quick reply before you delved into your food.

→ JAEHYUN would honestly serve you once you come back from a busy day tbh. where taeyong does the chores around the house, jaehyun helps by doing the chores on YOU and only you. giving you massages, bringing you dinner on a tray, other unsaid things… and maybe even carrying you from room to room lol he’s relentless and just goes you need to rest, lemme help. big gentleman even when you reject him, doing smaller things like constantly checking up on you, pulling the blanket higher onto your body, cuddling you closer to his body when it’s cold. on top of that jaehyun also one that would meet you at your workplace and take you out like johnny, but those dates are extremely chill. he lets you choose, and when you’re not sure, he takes you on a night picnic at the field or a rooftop, just dinner, but outside bc the view is really nice and he likes the way you look even after a long day of working.

“where should we park our mats?” your head moves from left to right, looking for a suitable spot while you tug on jaehyun’s hand. he hums at it, searching for a spot just like you are. the wind’s blowing gently when you settle near a tree, mat occasionally flying up which you counter with your heavy laptop bag.

“any idea where we can get desserts later?” you call out as a half-joke, not expecting jaehyun to pull up his phone to instantly search for a baskin robbins. “there’s one close-by, wait here for a minute and i’ll go get one for you-“ you laugh before pulling him back down, “don’t worry! we’ll go together, plus i don’t want to be left alone.” jaehyun softly smiles, nodding along as he takes out the food he packed.

→ JUNGWOO has similar intentions like johnny, except he would just wanna stay home. where johnny’s goal is to make you laugh, jungwoo just likes doing things together at home. playing board games, folding the clothes together, making dinner together. it’s not that he doesn’t want to do it, but when he’s given free time he sometimes just likes to laze at home and rest from schedules. he sometimes takes himself out of bed to help before you come back but he’s lazy lolol. loves it when you’re both equally tired and living off 5h of sleep. it’s not romanticising the lack of sleep but your schedules just don’t allow you to sleep equal amounts of hours of sleep. through that, you’re at least able to connect over sleepy talk and droopy smiles while you make the bed or assemble a lego piece or playing video games. if jungwoo’s energetic enough he doesn’t mind doing the crazier activities but he generally prefers those activities done in semi-silence while you exchange jokes and funny videos.

“noooo- no! you only need to move three times, you’re cheating-“ jungwoo pouts and moves back your playing avatar back three spaces on the board game. you purse your lips, not expecting him to see it since he was particularly invested in the movie playing on the screen. knowing it was a shitty film, you tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. with eyes glued to the screen a few seconds earlier, you took your chance to move down one more space in order to get the benefit on the game board.

“you’ll get to buy a house soon, honey,” jungwoo grins cheekily, laughing even more when he’s able to move four steps, landing on the square that you wanted. now it was your turn to pout as he flips the card for property purchases, happily placing it next to his five other houses. “you’re so annoying!” you say as you fall back on the bean bag, but jungwoo doesn’t believe it when he sees a smile poking out from behind the hands shielding your face..

→ MARK sends you a looooot of texts. your convos with him are just him spamming questions or sending you memes. on every platform LMAO he has tweets sent, ig dm’s are blowing up from the weirdass nct memes that some of the fans make, he uses the official nct tiktok account to send you viral trending videos and he’s like we should try this!!!! and it’s a couple doing acrobatics or some shit. he’s crazy. anyway, he just likes to share things with you, from songs, to playlists, to youtube videos or interesting topics like crime psychology or movie theories etc. he knows that you’re hardly going to see it in your job but he sees the way you react across the room when he sends you stuff so he’s sure that you’ll like it after you get off work. sometimes likes to rickroll you, he knows it’s an old trend/troll thing but the thrill of seeing your frustrated replies always make him laugh out loud. when you’re back home, the both of you review whatever you send each other and then laugh together at them.

“hey, babe, check out this video,” mark says in a text, pasting a twitter link to a video. the video starts out interesting enough, mentioning something about a fun fact with stunning visuals has you wanting to learn more. when the guy in the video starts on his first word, the video immediately changes to rick astley with never gonna give you up. you mutter a small fuck under your breath, gaining a bit of attention from your colleagues during lunch break.

under the table, you flip him off in a picture, which he responds with a big smile of his that’s obviously teasing you for falling for it. you’re going to get it when i get back home!!!!! on a new high, you text the message and set your phone down, already excited for the evening where’d you be able to spend your time with him.

→ HAECHAN is a mix of everything kinda. he’d bring you out after work sometimes and other times likes to stay at home, mainly takes you out to eat after work, but that’s the extent of his after-work-escapades, he doesn’t want to tire you out too much. i think one prominent things he likes to do to is vlog to you, send you videos of what he’s doing on set or at home and just treats your convo like a bank for endless videos. y’know how there’s this video feature in telegram? he sends sooo many of those that you have the time of your life watching those on the ride back home. if you have time, you HAVE to facetime him during your lunch break and tell him how you’re doing and how’s your work coming along. do i have to kick someone’s ass for making you feel uncomfortable? is that patient being creepy again? and you have to explain that haechan, no, that patient is an elderly you cannot beat his ass. he’s like i don’t care, creepy dudes are not excused!!! and you can’t help but smile at that. always wants to be talking to you, close to you. if one day, you’re able to bring him to your job, this man follows you around like a lost puppy and just admires what you do, it’s endearing.

“ah, wait- you know how the sister, xia ling was sent to shut down the ten rings army? well… i just reviewed some of the articles and-“ the video cuts into the next one, haechan’s face zoomed in as he looks straight into the camera, “y’know, she might become a villain one day, i don’t know. maybe i should review some of the comics too?”

“anyway! come look at our set for the music video! it’s sexy, outfits are fire, sets are so good, the choreo this time isn’t too hard, either.” haechan asks the other members to wave as he passes them by, no doubt going his own make-up and hair after the others were already done, “okay, gotta go- love you bye!” you smile at that, texting a quick reply before you open up a video of your own, whispering through the speaker with a promise that you’d see him tonight.

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sapphic-yearning-lesbian · 3 years

Text

Epilogue (The Kumandra Memorial Hospital)

As annoying as it sounds I had this sitting on computer for a long time; I was just struggling to like it. SOO two days ago I rewrote the ending; so roughly 4,000 words out of 7,000... ANYWAY’S happy with it now.

Summary: Namaari and Raya being soft for each-other! Basically all fluff!

Warning’s: Mention of liquor, mild swearing, and implied sexual intercourse.

Here’s a preview, the rest of the story is on A03

The First Date

Raya had been discharged from the hospital for over a week, but she was still on bed rest, meaning she couldn't leave her house. Being surrounded by the same four walls was driving her insane. Even so, she was still thankful for her friends, family, and especially Namaari. They always came around and kept her company.

So what was Namaari to Raya?

Hell, as if Raya knew!

Namaari usually came around when others were present, so they hadn't gotten the opportunity to grow to know each other romantically any further. Yet, Namaari always found time to come and visit Raya, knowing they wouldn't be alone.

Maari, even bothering to show up, always meant the world to Raya as she genuinely felt wanted in her life.

Raya was looking in the bathroom mirror as she was towel drying her hair. Simultaneously, Sisu was changing her dampened wound bandages. Anticipating this, Raya had placed saran wrap over bandages to prevent this, but some water did manage to seep in. Thankfully Sisu remembers the basics of wound care and helps her change them.

Once Raya's hair isn't dripping, she brushes her hair as Sisu finishes. "Your bruise has gotten better," Sisu muttered under her breath, causing Raya to chuckle.

"Ohh, that's nothing!" Raya answers as she looks down at her chest in the mirror. She notices her bruise is fading and green now, only crawling partially on her left boob, mostly on her ribcage. "The bruise was spread across my whole rib cage and boob before in a grape purple."

Sisu nodded as she turned away and tossed Raya a huge oversized shirt. "I'll be outside the door," She said while making a peace sign exiting the bathroom.

Raya sighed as she slowly put on the shirt, trying not to injure herself further. Usually, Sisu or her Ba help her, but she's trying to do things independently; or at least try. She eventually managed to get the shirt on but was slightly winded by the effort needed to do the task.

Once she was all dressed in her oversized tan shirt with cheeky black underwear, she opened the bathroom door and found Namaari outside the door smiling at her. "NAMAARI!" Raya squealed as she lightly threw her arms over Maari's shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

"Raya," Namaari hummed as she wrapped one arm around Raya's waist as the other made its way up to her hair, gently massaging her scalp. "I need you to trust me, okay!" Namaari whispered as she pressed a quick kiss on Raya's right cheek, pulling away.

The warmth of Maari's lips kissing Raya's cheek still lingered as she nodded a quick yes. The next thing Raya knew, Namaari had pulled away and placed one hand over her eyes, as the other hand remained wrapped around her waist, leading her through the house.

"I know you're tired of being stuck at home," Namaari voice varies in high and low pinches, revealing her underlying nervousness. "I hope this helps," She admits as she guides Raya out to the backyard before removing her hand from her face. "SUPRISE"

When Raya opens her eyes, she first notices a white fabric hut in the middle of her backyard. The inside is full of comfy pillows and blankets. Her eyes then shift to the right, where she finds an array of foods and desserts on a picnic blanket; in the center sits a bottle of champagne and its glasses. She smiles as she shifts her gaze back to the left and notices a tiny projector pointing to her house.

The gasp that leaves Raya's mouth is full of amusement and pure joy. She couldn't believe Namaari pulled this all off in less than 30 minutes because that's how long she took showering and changing. "It's beautiful, Maari... words cannot describe what I'm feeling." Her stomach had erupted in butterflies while her core tingled ever so slightly.

Namaari only chuckles in amusement as she leads Raya to the assortment of foods she's provided. Once Raya comfortably sat down, she plops down (not so gracefully) next to her; she just wanted to be near her.

Maari understands how typical dates work: You sit across your date to get to know them better. But Namaari had learned so much about Raya these last four weeks.

That's all Namaari could really do; listen.

Technically Namaari was just another of Raya's friends. She couldn't comfortably kiss her or even touch her platonically, surrounded by others, out of respect, as they weren't official.

A friend who also happens to know the taste of the back of Raya's throat?

Anyways! Namaari knows Raya.

Raya loves the outdoor's more than anything, and her preferred way of exercising is hiking.

Raya has a prominent inner child.

Raya lives her day-to-day life in the spur of the moment but is very detail-oriented while working.

Raya's favorite color is turquoise because it's a mixture of both blue and green.

Raya is a night owl but will not work nightshifts.

Namaari knows Raya!

Raya smiled from ear to ear as Namaari popped the champagne bottle. "Woahhh, look at the bubble," She spoke in awe as she noticed the way Namaari bicep tightened as she popped off the cork.

The truth is Raya had quickly become obsessed with Namaari. She found herself missing her voice, the warm feeling in her abdomen when she was near, and her scoff.

Anytime Namaari scoffed, Raya felt as she died and returned to earth. She cannot come to explain the mixture of feelings that small action has on her entire being.

Raya is also very aware of Namaari's physical beauty; sometimes, she questions if Leonardo da Vinci sculpted her out of clay because there is genuinely nothing not to love! Raya loves Maari's rounded and wide nose, her pump upper lip missing its cupid bow, her squinted and curved eyes, her clean and maintained brows. But most of all, Raya loves Namaari's glistening, beautiful brown skin.

But of course, Raya also learned to appreciate Namaari as a whole. She liked to believe that she knew Namaari.

Her favorite color is gold.

She's an early bird!

Her favorite pass time is running marathons or volunteering with children. She is also very hard-headed and focused when working; sometimes, that seeps into her every day.

Maari also claims to be emotionally unattached, but Raya can see past that: She sees how much she wants to be understood and loved for all her flaws. And Raya hopes to be that for her.

Namaari poured the champagne into both their glasses, handing one to Raya once she finished. She then raised her glass to make a toast, Raya quickly mimicking her movements. "I want to toast to the beautiful stars and the moon shining above us." She raises the glass higher "And even as bright as they are, somehow you shine brighter than them, in your beauty." Namaari watches as Raya's face is engulfed in a red tint as she lightly shoves her shoulder with her own.

"I want to make a toast to Tong!" Raya spoke with a grin, only watching Namaari raise an eyebrow in confusion, "Because of him...I stumbled into the arms of this gorgeous specimen sitting beside me." She said, replacing her grin with a smile. "Cheers"

"Cheers."

They clinched their glasses before bringing the alcohol to their lips, both of them looking at each other with such fire and passion.

At that moment, a new feeling settled in their hearts, which they wouldn't express that night because love is scary.

...

For the rest of the night, they engaged in heartfelt conversations, passion-filled conversations, plenty of stolen or perfectly choreographed glances, the perfect amount of physical contact, and plenty of kisses—all amongst eating smores, shrimp Chao, a wide variety of fruits, and rice dumplings.

Once they finished conversating around 2 am they settled in the tent, watching the projected movie Luca on the side of Raya's house.

Namaari was the big spoon, and Raya was the small spoon.

They didn't actually watch the movie as they were too busy kissing each other's faces. Overall, they enjoyed having alone time as it allowed them to explore their romantic feelings for one another.

As the movie came to an end, Raya started to doze off. Namaari only watched her as she struggled to keep her eyes open, a smile resting on her lips. Never did that smile leave her face the entire night. Maari only scoffed as she bent her head down to press a kiss onto the tip of Raya's nose. "Are you awake, Dep La?" She asked in a whisper as the other only nodded while nuzzling deeper into her chest. "Can you look at me?"

Raya yawned into Namaari's chest as she pulled her face away just enough to lock her eyes onto Maari's. "Is this when you tell me our relationship is platonic?" She questions with the tiniest smirk on her lips. Namari only smirked back at her, causing her heart to began to flutter.

"Actually, about that...will you be my girlfriend? Like officially?" Namaari questioned as she ran on hand through her hair. All the while watching as Raya's eyes widen as a cheerful gasp slipped from her lips.

"AHHHH, I GOT THE HOT ER NURSE TO ASK ME OUT," Raya yelps as she lifts her free hand, pumping the air. "That's a yes." She finally clarifies as they both burst out laughing.

---

Apparently I’m a hopeless romantic for these two. Good to know XD.

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Text

it’s just what you do.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: “my problem is that if you bring anymore whores around and it’ll start to feel like a brothel in here. and i am far too young to be a madam.”

word count: 6.0k

a/n: if you’ve read some of my st stories, you know i have a little bit of a love for bratty, bitchy readers lol so here ya go! a bratty bitchy reader in the hg universe! (though the reader is pretty tame for what i usually write for a bitchy!reader) i hope you enjoy, and if you do let me know in some feedback (:

You padded down cold stairs in bare feet, yawning as you did. You could already hear Roman and Peter talking quietly at the breakfast bar over cold cereal and sleep graveled voices as you reached the bottom landing. You stretched your arms above your head with a resounding squeak that announced your entrance.

As you push away unruly strands of hair from your face, you rub your cheek, still sheet streaked and warm to the touch.

“G’morin’ (Y/N).” Peter greeted through a mouth full of milk soaked Sugar Crisp.

“Morning, love.” You replied, placing your hands on his bare shoulders and pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of his head.

You let your hands linger on his skin a moment longer before you stepped around him and to the pantry.

“Good morning,” Roman called after you as he watched appreciatively as the hem of your short negligee dusted the tops of your thighs.

You acknowledged him with a hum, but gave him no further greeting. No good morning, no kiss, no smile. Just a hum as you rummaged around searching for your box of oatmeal.

Roman hadn’t come to bed until just before dawn the previous night, only furthering the animosity you felt for him. The new, deep and unrelenting displeasure you held for him now that he had let another woman into your home.

“What? Peter gets a fucking endearment and I don’t get anything?” Roman griped. His voice grated on your ear drums and his angry breathing only served to churn your disdain for him.

You kept mute, clenching your teeth as you gathered a bowl and some milk to make your morning oats.

You pictured turning around to spit in his face, and how it would feel to watch his reaction as your saliva splattered his skin. You’d then tell him to go fuck himself, maybe break a glass while you were at it, anything to get his attention. Or maybe you’d go hop on Peter’s lap, place his hands on your bare thighs and stick your tongue down his throat. That was probably better than any tantrum you could throw. Your boyfriend was nothing if not possessive of what he deemed as his. You fell under that laundry list of Roman’s possessions, though you were unsure if you were soon to be erased and replaced with five new letters.

Because it had been a little over a week since Annie had taken residence in the second guest bedroom. A fucking week of seeing her and Roman eye fuck each other and share whispered conversations. A week of her connecting with Roman on a level you couldn’t understand, of being a part of schemes, of helping him and Peter (something you were never allowed to do) and talking about Nadia. You’re fucking daughter. You swore the next time her mouth began to form the syllables to the child’s name, you were going to strangle her to death. Upir or not, you were sure your pure maternal rage would be no match for her.

And, it had been a goddamn week of you sulking and pouting and seething without Roman taking even the slightest notice, or if he did, not caring a bit. That, more than anything else, is what was truly making you irate.

“(Y/N)? What the hell?” Roman cursed again as you slammed dishes around in cabinets.

Before he could say anything else, another pair of footsteps sounded on the stairs.

“Good morning!” Came her happy french lit as she bounded toward the three of you.

You didn’t acknowledge her presence, simply continued on with your oatmeal.

“I still haven’t gotten over the water pressure here. It’s so wonderful,” Annie says, and you’re sure Roman is half hard at her stupid compliment.

You still haven’t looked at her, but you’re picturing her with damp hair and ruddy cheeks from the hot water. Her face smooth and freckled with youth. Her damp hair turning her already light sleepwear see through and sticky.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Roman chimes and your neck prickles with anger.

The ice he was treading on with you was growing thinner and thinner by the moment. Melting under your fiery ire for his behavior. When he finally fell through, you hoped he’d drown.

“What are you planning on doing today? Do you have work?” Annie asks.

“I do, but do you need me for something?”

You scoff much louder than you had anticipated and you can feel three pairs of eyes on your back. You square your shoulders and turn toward the group, but don’t look at any of them. The stupid Hardy Boys with their brand new Nancy Drew, resigning you to be the villain, you supposed.

You walk around the breakfast bar with purpose, turning your body obnoxiously to avoid touching Annie as you pass. You weren’t close to her as she leaned against the counter, but you wanted her to know just how much you loathed her. So much so, that the idea of touching you made you recoil.

“Uhm, no. I was just making conversation.” She replied, her voice wavering after your subtle outburst.

You held back a pleased expression as you went to the couch, sitting at the farthest corner from the kitchen and taking the throw blanket from the back and wrapping yourself in it. You took your first bite of oatmeal and clinked the spoon loudly back in the bowl in protest.

“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?” You hated how your name sounded so melodic coming off her tongue, “Are you feeling alright?”

You don’t reply, just continued to eat your breakfast, looking straight ahead. The tension was palpable in the room as Annie shifted her feet and waited for your response. You wish she would pick up on your clear animosity toward her and quit trying to engage with you. Her efforts were admirable, you’d admit, but with the way she looked at Roman, and the way she spoke to him, there was absolutely no way she could possibly expect you to indulge her.

You could feel Roman’s glare on you, his green eyes burning holes through the knit throw to sear your skin with displeasure. Peter was still turned toward the island, shoulders tense with discomfort at the scene you were creating. You almost felt sorry for him, it wasn’t his fault Roman was being an oblivious asshole (and that you were retaliating the way you were). He didn’t deserve to be caught in the awkward crossfire. Maybe you would sneak him into a corner and feel him up for a bit? He did deserve some pleasure for living with Roman’s pain (and hey, if it made Roman jealous in the process, that would just be a bonas of your good deed).

Soon, Annie recovered from your echoing silence and moved back to talking with Roman and Peter. You could see her out of the corner of your eye, sleep shorts hanging low on her hips and flimsy white t-shirt you had imagined, dipping down from her relaxed stance, giving both men a perfect view down her top. You didn’t have to be looking at Roman to know he was stealing glances.

You stayed on the couch, trying to eat your breakfast, but the oats were soggy and not as good as when Roman made them with cinnamon and maple sugar. You toyed with the beige mush until Roman announced he was off to The Tower. He gathered his jacket and briefcase before saying goodbye to Peter and Annie.

“I’m leaving,” Roman called over to you.

You kept your vow of silence and pretended to be interested in the curdling food before you.

“Jesus fucking-- fine! Goodbye.” He spat, irritated.

You continued to fold your oatmeal around your bowl until the front door slammed shut and Annie spoke after a moment's pause.

“I think I’ll be off, too. I have some errands to run.” Biding you both a quick adui before she exited the kitchen for the stairs.

You huffed to yourself. She could only stand to be around you and Peter when Roman was in attendance.

“I feel like I’m in a high school cafeteria and Annie just took your seat next to Roman.” Peter joked, having heard your annoyed sound.

“Well, she should know I always have an assigned seat next to him,” You said, setting your bowl on the coffee table and crossing your arms.

“Oh my God, (Y/N)! Do you hear yourself?”

“I do, and I know I sound childish but I’ve lost the will to care.”

You hear Peter sigh, then the sound of him getting up from his stool to come sit next to you.

“What’s next? Are you going to spread a rumor about her to make Roman think she’s icky?”

“Like anything I said could make him stop mooning over her,” You reply with disdain.

“He loves you, you know that. He’ll ask you to prom, buy you the most valentines and all that shit.”

“He has a funny way of showing it.” You pout with a furrow of your brows.

“Have you considered just telling him how you feel about Annie staying here?” Peter asked.

“If he can’t figure out on his own why I’m so angry, it’s not my problem.”

“Do you really think that’s fair?”

“No,” You tighten your arms across your chest, “But it’s not my fault that your gender has no emotional intelligence or inference skills.”

Peter chuckles, “All the more reason to just come out and tell Roman how you’re feeling.”

You roll your eyes and give him a half hearted glare, “Don’t you have a job to be getting too?”

“Yes, but I want to make sure you at least mull over my option first.” He nudges you gently with his knee

You give a small pause before a small smirk breaks out over your lips, “I was actually thinking about making out with you to make him jealous. Would you be willing?”

Peter claps his hands down on his thighs and pushes up from the couch, “And with that, suddenly I’m late.”

“Oh c’mon!” You giggle and get up to follow him, “Not even a little peck? Just put your hand on my ass!”

“I would rather keep all my limbs attached, thank you very much.” Peter says as he trouts up the stairs.

“You’ll like it!” You call up after him with a laugh.

“That was never in question, sweetheart! I just like my head on my shoulder and not on Roman’s mantle.”

“It’s my mantle, too.” You mutter, going up the stairs after him and heading to the master bedroom in hopes of avoiding Annie before she left for the day.

You had taken an angry nap until noon and then went downstairs to your office to get some work done. It was during this time that Jane, Roman’s new housekeeper after Anna, informed you there were some nice cuts of meat that would be going bad soon, and if you’d like it for dinner that evening.

“That sounds wonderful, Jane. Thank you.” You replied, peering at her over your computer screen.

“Would you like to ask Mr. Godfrey if he would like steak for this evening? Or if another night would be better?” Roman was known to work late, so this question wasn’t unreasonable to ask.

“I’d call him and ask, but unfortunately I am about to hop on a conference call and don’t have a spare minute. Would you mind calling to ask?” You asked in your sweetest voice.

“Of course, Ms. (Y/L/N).” Anna gave you a smile before she parted from the room.

You sighed, and went back to your riveting game of solitaire.

That night with burgundy stained lips, you sat at the head of your long dining table waiting for Roman to return for work. The beautiful reclaimed wood table that you had excitedly picked out at an estate sale that you had seen Annie sitting on just two days before. Swinging her legs like a child and eating a peach while letting Roman ogle her as the juice dripped down her flawless skin. You had slammed the front door so hard that the frame shook.

As you guzzled down your third glass of Merlot, Peter kicked your foot. A silent plea to slow down, so this evening didn’t explode with your loose lipped temper. But, you paid him no mind. You mostly just thought about how much you hated Annie for making you hate her. Hate her, and Roman. Because, really, you weren’t one of those women who stewed in jealousy or was in a constant fear of their partner cheating. Maybe that was because Roman had always been clear in his devotions to you. Sure, his eyes would wander when an attractive woman passed, but you knew he never acted on it. You had a trust in him that had never wavered until now.

You didn’t want to be one of those women who hated other women or demonized them for having your boyfriend’s attention. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend that men could point at and make stereotypical remarks about your possessiveness and label you “crazy” because of your actions in this scenario behind the three of you… but you were near the end of your rope and the woman had barely been staying with you two weeks. You were starting to question that unmoving trust you placed in Roman and it made you sick. All you could hope was that you were wrong… or at least that Peter would have told you if something happened between Annie and Roman by now.

Half way through your fourth glass, the front door sounded open and in sauntered Roman, with Annie in tow.

“Nice of you both to join us,” Peter teased, though you saw a split second of panic cross his features. You knew he didn’t want to play into your paranoia and had just done so unwillingly.

“Oh yes, we just happened to run into each other in the driveway,” Annie said, throwing a beaming grin over her shoulder at Roman who offered her a smile.

“How coincidental,” You offered over the rim of your glass.

Everyone in the room darted their gaze to you, clearly surprised that you had decided to end your silent streak.

“Yes, I suppose it was.” Annie replies, her smile still intact, “Now what’s all this then?”

“Jane noticed some food that was going to go bad in the fridge and offered to make a nice meal for us.” You said evenly.

You remembered when us just meant you and Roman.

“How thoughtful,” Annie said, looking to Jane who thanked her quietly.

“Ms. (Y/L/N) was a great help with it as well,” Jane said, opening another bottle of wine as you had almost polished off the one she had originally opened for the evening.

Ms. (Y/L/N). Not Mrs. Godfrey. You were easy to be rid of, exiled at a moments notice.

Jane was been modest. You had sat with her while she cooked and idly chatted, handing her utensils and chopping up garlic, but nothing else. You were sure she was trying to get Roman to take notice of your efforts, which you thought was sweet. You hadn’t come out and explicitly talked about your problems with Roman to Jane, you were sure she had figured it out on her own.

See that Roman? Your housekeeper knows more about what’s wrong than you do!

“Well, thank you, (Y/N). It looks wonderful.” Annie said.

You might have even thanked her through gritted teeth, had Roman not just pulled out a seat for her and gently pushed it back in. Instead, you settled back into your discontented humming and poured what was left of the original bottle of wine into your glass.

Peter could sense your inebriation level bordering on dangerous, so he quickly raised a glass in distraction.

“Let’s make a toast! We don’t get to have such a fancy dinner this often, y’know?” He smiled through his unease, and if you weren’t almost five glasses deep you might have even caught the desperate looks he was throwing you.

The please-for-the-love-of-god-don’t-start-a-fight-with-me-here looks.

“Well, how about to (Y/N) and Jane? For making this feast?” Annie offered, raising her glass to match Peter’s.

“Yes,” Roman said, his voice tight, “To (Y/N). And Jane of course.”

His eyes bore into you, both of you on opposing heads of the table. He raised his wine in the air like he was challenging you to a game you weren’t sure the rules of. You had never felt so uncomfortable in his presence ever before, and suddenly the idea that something was really wrong between the two of you seemed more plausible.

You raise your glass to your honor, but don't cheer’s anyone, just simply place the glass back to your lips.

Everyone then went around dishing out food on their plates and passing bowls to each other. Annie was always sure to pass to Roman first and he was always the first to offer her what he was holding. You felt like you and Peter were intruders on the romantic dinner that you had cooked for them (well, helped cook).

“Oh, I have some of Pryce’s plasma left in the fridge, do you want any?” Roman offered to Annie as she took a dish of mashed potatoes from him.

“If you wouldn’t mind. Thank you,” She accepted his offer so meek and polite you almost gagged.

Maybe this was meant to be? She was the perfect little wife for Roman after all. Sweet, attentive, was just subversive enough to seem interesting, an upir. The latter was likely the best contender for why Roman would be kicking you to the curb soon. It made sense, they were the same and she was new. And don’t all men want some new pussy after a while? You were no stranger to Roman’s reputation, and you had been reminded by many a peer of his serial adultery in the past… you had just hoped he’d outgrown it when he fell in love with you.

Roman came back with the plasma and leaned over Annie’s shoulder to fill her glass. You heard her take a sharp intake of breath at his closeness and watched as she glanced up at his face, which was mere inches from her own.

You ground your knife hard into the porcelain of your plate, and the sound broke her from her Godfrey trance. You pretend nothing happened and put a green bean in your mouth.

You tuned out the table’s conversations about their days and recent events, feeling isolated and somber. The wine was no doubt contributing to your sadness, but the residual feelings of neglect and rejection were getting to you. Because if Roman really cared, wouldn’t he have pulled you aside by now and just asked you if you were alright? Why you had been avoiding him, why you wouldn’t kiss him goodnight or good morning? Or did he just truly not care at all? Had you been replaced so easily?

You continued to sulk and play over a fictional break up in your head when a topic caught your attention.

“Any news on Nadia?” Annie asked as she swallowed a piece of bread.

Not the baby. Not your baby. Not the child. But Nadia. This woman who was trying to usurp your place in Roman’s life while you were still very present, had just again spoken your daughter's name. Like she had the fucking right.

Before Roman could answer, you pushed up from your seat, again causing all eyes to attach to you. You walked over to the fridge and obtained an old bottle of steak sauce (that you didn’t even want, you were just angry) and returned back to the table with a scowl.

And it seemed this most recent outburst was Roman’s tipping point.

“What the fuck is up with you?” He bellowed, throwing his hand in the air with similar fervor.

“Nothing.” You replied with a snap.

“Sure as shit fooled me! Because you’ve been acting like a fucking brat for the past week. So, why don’t you share with the class what’s on your mind, hmm?” Roman leaned back in his seat and dramatically gestured for you to speak.

“You wanna know my problem, Roman?” You bit out.

Peter was likely already planning his escape.

“That’s what I said.”

“My problem is that if you bring one more whore into this house, it’s gonna start to feel like a brothel. And I am far too young to be a madam.”

And there it was. Grievances were now aired, and unfortunately in front of your two house guests.

Roman’s jaw tensed and flexed as he stared you down, “Peter. Annie. Would you excuse us?”

Both stood without any more prompting and scurried to the stairwell as you and Roman continued to glare at each other in silence. When you heard the twin sounds of doors shutting, Roman finally spoke.

“So you’ve been a fucking nightmare because Annie is staying here? Are you kidding?” He scoffed.

“Don’t belittle me,” You ran a hand through your hair and looked away from his piercing gaze.

“What? Like you just did to Annie?” He motioned to where she had sat.

“Oh,” You mock, “Roman, her knight in shining armour. I’m sure it’s hard to save her when you’re up on your high horse.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m talking about this fucking obsession you have with this woman! This obsession your culviating right under my nose and in my home.”

“Are you fucking serious?” He spits.

“Yes, I am. And don’t play so god damn naive. If the roles were reversed, you would have thrown a fit by now! Fuck, a fit! Fuck any amount of tantrums I could even begin to think of throwing! You would have murdered someone by now.” You seethed.

Roman looked at you with a bewildered expression, his eyes bugging and his mouth agape, stuttering for words, “So, you’ve really just been jealous? Fucking Christ!”

“Like you wouldn’t be if the tables were turned.”

“Fuck off about if the tables were turned. We’re talking about you, not me.”

“No! We are talking about you, Roman. This is just as much about you as it is me.” You shout, “And it has everything to do with the tables being turned. Because if I invited a man to stay in this house -- our house -- and all he ever did was fawn over me and I batted my eyelashes at him and giggled at everything he said while in nothing but a towel you would give yourself an aneurysm.”

“Stop changing the subject,” Roman snarled.

“Can you tell me with absolute and utter certainty that if I offered some guy a room, then spent all my time with him, had little inside jokes with him and touched him, you wouldn’t be angry?”

Roman doesn’t respond, just resets his jaw.

“So, if this man told me how beautiful I was, flirted with me and would never shut up about how similar we were, you wouldn’t be mad?” Roman just clenched.

“What if you started to suspect that I was fucking him, huh? What if you started to think about him inside me? Kissing me? Making me cum? Making me--”

Roman’s fist connecting with the tabletop cut you off.

“Enough! You win, OK? I would hate it, alright? I’d fucking kill him.”

“Thank you! That’s all I wanted. I just wanted you to see my side of this fucking story. Why I have been so mad.” You deflate against your chair, though you know this fight is far from over.

“And you didn’t just tell me, why?” Roman inquires.

“Because you should have known! I know that sounds ridiculous and I can see you rolling your eyes, but you should have known that I was upset and asked me what was wrong.” You said, tears bubbling up, causing your throat to constrict.

“I did ask you! I asked you this morning.”

“Yeah, in front of fucking Peter. Like I was going to tell you then… and you didn’t even mean it when you asked. If I would have told you, you would’ve just yelled at me and made me seem like I was crazy. I wasn’t going to open up to you when I already thought you thought I was being stupid.”

“You thought that I thought? Jesus… I have no idea what you want from me…” Roman sighs, reaching around the back of his chair to retrieve his cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

“I want you to hear me when I say that having Annie here, a woman who so clearly wants to fuck you, bothers me. A woman who you are clearly attracted to, a woman who is clearly attracted to you. It hurts me that you’re letting her stay here, especially when you didn’t even ask me if she could.” You were barely holding off the overflow of tears from your eyes at this point and you knew the second you started to cry this would all be over. Because you would start to blubber and Roman would get irritated that you couldn’t get a word out.

“Let me get this straight: I’m attracted to Annie, she’s attracted to me? So I’m going to have sex with her? And what? Leave you? Is that right?” Roman puffs around his cigarette, the condescension in his tone unbearable.

And your dam broke, the tears threatening to breach your lash line were flowing freely now. Why Roman wasn’t able to just see that something was hurting you and help change, was beyond you. You decided right then and there that you refused to let him have the satisfaction of watching you cry. You were done, for an unforeseeable amount of time.

“You’re so fucking mean.”

You sucked your teeth loudly before pushing up from your seat and heading for the front door.

“C’mon, what are you doing now?” Roman groaned, turning to watch you leave over his shoulder.

“I’m done. I’m going to Destiny’s.” You said curtly, taking your purse and keys from the hook in the entryway.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am. I’m done, Roman.” You slung your purse of your shoulder and clutched your keys tight.

“What for tonight or forever?” He asked like he was calling your bluff.

“If you can’t understand why I am so hurt, then I don’t know. Maybe forever.”

“Hey, woah, what?” Roman’s voice was startled as he got up from his seat and rushed to the door, “No, you aren’t leaving. This conversation isn’t over.”

He planted a large hand on the door handle, preventing you from opening it. You could feel his hulking figure behind you and you wanted to shrink under his size, but stayed strong.

“Roman, move your hand.”

“You’re not fucking leaving. Let’s just talk this out, OK?” He bargained.

You tried to pry Roman’s long fingers from the handle, but even with all your might working to untangle their hold, he was just too strong.

“I’ll listen, OK? I’m sorry, just let’s talk. Let’s talk about this.” His knuckles were turning white below you. You could see his bones threatening to break the surface of his reddening skin.

“Are you going to listen to me, or just dismiss and make fun of me? Because if you do Roman, I’ll just go out the back door.”

“I will. Promise.” He sounded sincere. Maybe now that he knew you were serious, he was more receptive to what you had to say.

You turned to press your back to the door and look up at him. The fear on his face was surprising to you. You hadn’t expected him to be so scared at the prospect of your leaving, he sure hadn’t cared that you were around since Annie arrived.

“I’m mad at you.” You stated frankly.

“Yeah, I caught that.” He sighs.

“I don’t like how you act around Annie. It’s disrespectful to me. I’m not a woman who cares when you look, but when you start to flirt and threaten to touch? I’m done, Roman. I’m not kidding.” You raised your eyebrows as Roman listened intently.

“I never touched.” He swore.

“Yes, but you’ve flirted and “innocently” touched. Flirted, touched and now you are starting to look at her like you looked at me.”

“I have never looked at her the way I look at you.”

You scoffed, then pantomimed his love lorn expression for him, clasping your hands over your heart theatrically.

He just rolled his eyes, “I’ve never looked at Annie like that.”

“Trust me, you have.” You say, ducking under his outstretched arm to walk back to the kitchen.

“Baby…”

“Don’t baby me, I’m still pissed.” You started to gather the abandoned plates to put in the sink for Jane.

“Then what can I do, huh? How do we work this out?” He asks, running a hand through his hair.

“Let me just ask you something,” You abruptly turn from the sink to face him, “Do you want to fuck her?”

Roman sucks in a deep intake of breath and opens his mouth, but closes it just as quickly.

Your tears threaten once more. You already knew his answer was yes, though all but hearing him say it was worse.

“Ok, let me ask you something else. Have you slept with her?”

“No! Absolutely not, baby. Never.” Roman said, taking a step toward you.

“And why should I believe you when I know that you want to have sex with her? Hm?” You crossed your arms.

“Because you know I love you. Because you know that I can’t even stomach the idea of my life without you,” Roman says, his tone frighteningly serious.

You look at him for a long moment, his eyes pleading for you to speak while you collected what you wanted to say next.

“Do you want to leave me for her?” You finally said, trying your best to sound collected.

“Baby, hey--”

“No, just listen Roman,” You took a breath, “Because, you know, if you wanna be with her, be with her. Just do it. Don’t string me along because you’re scared of losing more people. Because I get it, I mean I do. She’s an upir, you’re an upir... You have shared experience and she can teach you about what you are and just… Roman if you leave me just don’t be a pussy and cheat on me. Just break up with me.”

Roman looked at you bewildered and once again stammered for his words. For a moment, you were planning on looking at the price of U-Hauls; on how long you could stay with Destiny before you were intruding; if you would stay in Hemlock Grove because it was less expensive or just go straight to shopping for places in Philly?

But Roman doesn’t sigh and tell you it’s over. He doesn’t let you down easy or even scream and stomp his feet.

He just says:

“I love you more than I have loved anyone in my entire life. Family, friends, whatever. It doesn’t matter because you win. You always win. I’m not breaking up with you, alright? Jesus fucking Christ, nothing sounds worse to me than that.” Roman takes a long stride toward you to look soulfully into your eyes.

“Yeah, I think Annie’s hot and yes, she’s an upir. So fucking what? I’m not going to leave you because of that! I could give a shit about either of those things when you’re right under my nose.”

Your pick at your nail polish as you listen to him, feeling embarrassed. But Roman doesn’t let you wallow as he tilts you by the chin to look at him.

“I should’ve asked you if she could stay, I’ll admit that. I shouldn’t have been so chummy with her, either. And yeah, I probably should’ve just asked you why you were being so fucking moody. But you should have told me what was wrong without pouting.”

“I just wanted you to come to me and ask… for some reason I convinced myself if you asked me what was wrong, it was a sign that you still loved me.” Saying it out loud made your face heat uncomfortably.

“I love you, but that has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Roman chuckles.

“Don’t be rude,” You huff, pushing him gently by the shoulder, “Letting another random woman stay here was the real stupid thing.”

“How about we call it a draw?”

“I think I can handle that…”

“Ok, then it’s a deal. I’m sorry, you’re sorry, it’s all good.” Roman pinches your chin lightly to hold your face in place to place a soft kiss to your lips.

You hadn’t kissed him in days, and the feeling made you whimper.

“Is there anything else you need to get off your chest crazy lady?” Roman asks, his breath dusting your mouth with a smirk on his face.

You push him again, with more strength this time.

“I don’t like when Annie mentions Nadia. She is our daughter and hearing that woman say her name makes me go into like, hyper lioness mode and all I think about is punching her.”

Roman’s eyes widened.

“I do not need another woman sticking her nose in our business with our daughter. May I remind you that’s how we got into this whole mess in the first place?”

Roman sucks in a deep breath through his nose, “That’s fair.”

“I already miss her, I don’t need some woman who’s trying to hop on my boyfriend’s cock talking about her.” You were starting to get angry again.

And fucking Roman, he just smiles.

“Hearing you call her our daughter, calling me your boyfriend, all while being on a little jealous rampage? I gotta admit baby, it’s got me hard as a rock.”

“It always comes back to your weird primal possession,” You roll your eyes.

“Eh, you knew that from the beginning.” He shrugs.

“You’re still not totally forgiven, y’know?”

“Yeah? And what do I have to do to get out of the dog house, baby?” His smile turns devious.

“I want Annie out of this house,” You began.

“Done.” Roman cups your face as he started to walk you back toward the counter.

“I don’t want you seeing her without someone else present, or without telling me first. Not because I don’t trust you, but because--”

“--You don’t trust her. Got it,” Roman says, firmly pressing your lower back to the marble slab now.

“You know I have an intuition about these things,” You purse your lips in a pout as Roman begins to trail kisses across your jaw, “You should really be thanking me. I just know Annie’s going to turn out to be bad news. I have a feeling.”

He laughs, “Is there anything else, baby?”

“Yes…” You pause, “I want an inground pool. You promised me one when we moved in and the plans keep getting pushed back. I want to go swimming.”

“I’ll get the plans drawn up tomorrow,” He sucks on your pulse point.

“And you have to buy me as many bikinis as I want, designer ones, and I don’t want to hear one peep out of you about the price.” You crane your neck to give him more access to continue his sweet assault on your skin.

“I’ll leave you with my credit card so you can order as many as you want.”

Roman moves from your neck to look down at you, his cocky persona flickering for a moment so you can see the sweet eyes of a lovesick boy hoping for forgiveness.

“Like I don’t already know the number,” You smile, letting him know that it had been granted.

He groaned, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I love you, too.” And you reached up to kiss him fiercely.

i hope you enjoyed! this was fun to write, i love writing a moody!reader lol. if you did enjoy, let me know with a comment or reblog (: ‘til next time, ily! *lets hope third times the charm and this ends up in the tags lol

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

hands to yourself (gbd)

ethan is sick of the pda and challenges you and grayson to a 3 day no touching bet. but what happens after 72 hours is a different story...

word count: 4.9k

warnings/tags: smut (it’s about damn time ladies), angst, lots of sexual teasing, lets have some fun shall we

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

Many things happened when you were making out with Grayson. Getting clocked in the side of the head with a pillow was not usually one of them.

“Will you two keep it in your pants for two fucking seconds,” Ethan grumbled, obviously the perpetrator of the flying pillow that had connected with your face a few moments prior. He had good aim, you’d give him that.

“Fuck off,” Grayson grumbled, but he detached his lips from yours, settling to lay on you instead. It wasn’t an unusual position for you to find yourselves in - Ethan in the chair, you and your boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while you watched a movie. Most times you’d be laying on top of Grayson, cheek on his chest, his hand running gently up and down your arm or back. Sometimes he’d lift your shirt some so he could scratch your back, skin soft under his fingers. Other times - like now - he’d be wanting the attention, scooting down and nuzzling up on your chest so you could play with his hair or trace shapes on his skin.

Either way, it seemed to get under Ethan’s skin.

“You fuck off, I live here too I don’t need to see you two all up on each other 24/7,” Ethan shot back, obviously annoyed. It didn’t usually bother you - he went through phases where he’d get lonely and be a bit more annoyed at the PDA - Grayson was quite handsy if you were honest. On the other hand though, it could get annoying sometimes. You would like to be able to make out with your boyfriend on your own couch without the comments from the peanut gallery. And it annoyed Grayson 10 times more than it did you.

“Chill guys,” you sighed, not wanting it to get any worse.

“Nah, we’re about to take a trip in the van and I’m not about to wake up to you two fucking next to me cause you can’t keep it in your pants,” Ethan huffed back, movie long forgotten as he got heated. “You literally cannot keep your hands off each other, it’s gross.”

For some reason, that comment got under your skin a bit more than anything he had said prior. You were a mature adult who could control herself if she wanted to. And you could prove it too.

“Bet.”

Grayson stiffened, lifting his head. He knew how competitive you could be - it was one of the many reasons he loved you - but combined with Ethan’s inability to lose, it got dangerous sometimes. Bets were never good when they were between you and his brother, and you could tell he was worried.

“What are we betting?” Gray murmured, not liking where the conversation was headed.

“Okay fine.” Ethan perked up a bit, loving an idea of a challenge and completely ignoring his twin. “One week, you all can’t touch each other when I’m around.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Grayson immediately shut it down. You put a hand on his arm, calming him a bit. This was between you and Ethan now.

“A week is too long. I’ll give you three days,” you offered. Grayson turned to you, incredulous.

“Absolutely fucking not?” He said it to you this time, but you squeezed his arm again, signaling for him to hear you out.

“I can do three days,” Ethan offered. “But if it’s only three, then you all can’t touch each other at all. Like even when I’m not around. Strict no touching policy for three days. It’ll be a good cleanse for you horny fucks.”

“Fine,” you agreed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What?!” Grayson balked. You just grinned.

“But. If we make it the three days, you’re never going to say another snide comment about us touching. Ever.”

Ethan paused at that, really considering what he would be giving up if you managed to pull off the bet.

“Fine. But, if I win, I get to say whether or not you can be all lovey dovey and shit, and you have to listen.” There was a wicked look in his eyes; if he won he’d be ruthless, no doubt.

There was a whole lot at stake. But the prospect of being able to do whatever you wanted with Grayson, wherever you wanted, without Ethan’s commentary was too good to pass up.

“Deal.”

“Oh, so I don’t get a say in it? Cool, cause this doesn’t affect me at all,” Grayson chimed in, obviously annoyed.

“Okay, but how nice would it be if he couldn’t say shit about us,” you quirked an eyebrow at Grayson and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

You were right, and he knew it.

“Fine,” he conceded, knowing you’d get your way no matter what he said. “I’m in.”

“Shake on it,” Ethan said, getting up from his chair and walking over to you. You reached out, giving him a firm handshake and a nod. When you let go, he turned his wrist, looking at his watch.

“Alright, it’s 11:35. Time starts now, disperse,” he grinned, gesturing to the two of you. Grayson moved off of you with a huff, scooting to the other end of the couch.

As soon as he was gone, you realized just what you’d signed the two of you up for.

It was going to be a long 72 hours.

day one

It was only 9am, and tensions were already running high. Ethan wasn’t giving up any ground - he hadn’t even let you and Grayson sleep in the same bed the night prior. Which meant Grayson, being the gentleman he was, let you take the bed and he took the couch.

So, feeling well rested and in a good mood, you headed for the kitchen. Grayson was there, as you expected, typical avocado toast in hand. But when he saw you, he immediately groaned, dropping his head to the counter as you opened the fridge.

“What?!” You asked, laughing a bit. When he looked up, you could see the frustration in his eyes.

“Could you at least try to not make this any more fucking impossible than it already is?”

“I’m just getting yogurt...” you said innocently, holding up the cup you pulled from the fridge only a few moments prior.

“Yeah, but you could at least wear a fucking bra,” he pointed out, eyes trained on your chest. You hadn’t really thought about it - you were in one of Gray’s shirts, which was oversized on you. But now that you looked, you could tell that the cold air of the fridge had made your nipples hard, the ghost of them obvious through the fabric.

“Bras are uncomfortable,” you countered, pointing your spoon at him.

“Yeah? Well so are blue balls.”

His voice was so serious that you both just stared at each other for a minute, and then you couldn’t help it. You broke first, starting to giggle and then both of you were cackling like middle schoolers.

Once you’d finally calmed down and wiped away the tears you were crying, you continued eating your breakfast, perched on the counter by the stove. Grayson’s eyes were on you, specifically on your tongue as you licked yogurt off the spoon.

“You know, Ethan won’t be up for another few hours. He’d never know,” Grayson wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Nah, we don’t cheat in this house. A bet is a bet.”

“Well this bet sucks.” His voice was garbled around the last bite of toast that he was chewing.

“I know. But hey, it’ll be worth it. Then we can do whatever we want, and he can’t say shit,” you reminded him.

“We’re gonna drive him nuts,” Grayson grinned, and just those words sent goosebumps rising across your skin. Stop. Stop that. You couldn’t let yourself get lost in a daydream, especially when you weren’t allowed to touch him - that would just be self torture.

But it was too late. Now all you could think about was how normally right now, he’d be standing in front of you between your legs, hips pressed against the counter, his hands in your hair, lips on yours.

“Uh... babe? You good?” Grayson’s voice pulled you out of the image. His brows were furrowed, and you watched as he nodded to the floor, where a small dollop of yogurt had splattered. It must have slid off your spoon while you were lost.

“This bet sucks,” you repeated his earlier words, suddenly very much regretting your decision.

“Friendly reminder that you started it,” he grinned deviously. “Were you daydreaming over there?”

“No.” You answered too quickly. Dammit.

“Oh... well in that case, I guess I’m just gonna keep myself busy then. Might go build. Or lay out. Not sure yet.” That mischievous glint was in his eyes and you groaned. He knew exactly what he was doing - something about the focus he had when he was working on a project, with his tool belt low on his hips, sunglasses on and shirtless - it got you weak in the knees every damn time.

And he knew it too.

All you could do was glare at him as he got up and washed his plate before heading back to your room. Sure enough, 20 minutes later he was outside, carrying wood across the yard to where his saw was set up.

You sat in the living room, watching him work while you drank your coffee. Watched his muscles ripple under his skin as he hoisted 2 by 4′s over his head, powerful arms doing it with no effort. He could hold you up with those arms, hold you up while he-

“Good morning, this just in from pining central-”

You turned at the voice, glowering when you realized it was Ethan with a smug grin on his face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you grumbled, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Ooooo, touchy,” he teased, reaching out and ruffling your hair. You reached back to slap his shoulder, but you were smiling. “Or... no touchy.” Ethan cracked the joke, obviously proud of himself.

“That was actually terrible,” you shook your head.

“You’re just mad cause you’re gonna lose this bet,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he headed back towards the kitchen to make his breakfast.

“Not a chance in hell.”

day two

Sleeping on the couch wasn’t ideal, that was for damn sure. Not because it wasn’t comfortable, but because you didn’t have Grayson next to you. After his long day of building you knew that he was sore, and you’d insisted that he took the bed instead.

But that also meant that he had slept in for once, making your morning mission a little bit harder than usual. You snuck into the bedroom, tiptoeing at first, then walking normal when you realized that he was still snoring. He was curled up on his side, shirtless and sleeping soundly, his left arm curled around a pillow that he was holding to his chest. It took you a minute to realize that this was how you usually woke up, with his arm wrapped around you before you turned over and eased him onto his back so you could cuddle.

Stupid pillow. You pushed the thought from your mind as best you could, going over to your drawer and picking out a bikini to wear. It was beautiful out, the perfect day to get some sun. You changed quickly, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and your sunscreen before you headed out to the pool. It would at least help you kill a few hours. You were discovering that things were boring when you couldn’t make out with your boyfriend.

It was two hours later when you heard the doors open, signaling that someone was coming out of the house. You peaked over your sunglasses, unsurprised to see Grayson there.

“Did you just wake up?”

“No. I’ve been awake.” His tone was short, and you frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t play innocent,” he grumbled. You sat up further on the yellow lounge, confused.

“What?”

“You’re doing this on purpose. Out here, all laid out in a tiny bikini when there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re a tease.” He sat down on the other lounge, staring at you. You could tell he was hard underneath his gym shorts.

“I just wanted to get some sun... But, two can play that game. You’re telling me you building all day yesterday was innocent?” You looked at him accusingly, expecting him to laugh. Instead, his eyes just darkened.

“Oh, does me building do something to you?” He knew the answer to that. It fueled his ego that him doing something so simple could turn you on so much, and you hated that you had no control over it. “What exactly does it do to you, hmm?”

“Stop it,” you muttered, but your body was reacting anyways. Your skin was flushing just from his words.

“Stop what? Stop making you wet?”

“We can’t do anything about it, don’t make it worse,” you pleaded. He was right, you were wet, and you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you right then and there. But you were more strong willed than that. It was only another 30 or so hours. You would make it.

“I’m going to shower,” you said, standing up and heading into the house. You knew his eyes were on your ass, and you were unsurprised that he got up to follow you, carrying your towel in wadded over his dick in case Ethan was out of his room.

You tried to ignore him as you headed to the bathroom, taking your hair down and starting the water to give it time to warm up. To your surprise, he lifted himself up and sat on the end of the counter, giving himself a perfect view of the glass shower.

“What’re you doing?”

“Watching.” There was a heat in his voice that went straight through you. You swallowed heavy, turning to him. He got like this sometimes, where his dominant side would come out. Usually it was halfway through sex, when he was pulling on your hair, or when you had a particularly bad attitude and he corrected it quickly with a rough fuck.

But there was an intensity to this that had your mouth dry as you started to undress under his gaze. You reached behind your neck, pulling on the string that kept your top together. When the bow came undone, the fabric began to fall, though it didn’t fully reveal your tits until you untied the back and it fell to the ground.

Grayson said nothing, eyes unwavering as you moved to your bottoms. You shimmied out of them quickly, kicking them to the side. Unfortunately, they landed directly in front of him. You knew he’d see the wetness that had pooled in them; it was obvious. That wasn’t going to help matters.

“We can call off the bet. If you want.” You blurted it out - until the last few minutes you didn’t realize how desperate you were to have his hands on you.

“No. We can’t. Now shower, before we run out of hot water.”

You did as you were told, walking over into the water and letting it run over your skin. You kept your eyes closed mostly, but you could feel him watching your every move. As you washed your body, your hands lingered over yourself for just a moment, desperate for relief.

“Don’t you dare.” Grayson’s voice was deep and demanding, making your eyes snap open. He very rarely took that tone with you.

“Touching myself isn’t against Ethan’s rules,” you pointed out, knowing it would piss him off to hear his brother’s name right now. If he wasn’t already going to destroy you when he could, he definitely was now.

“It’s against my rules.”

Just those words were enough to almost make you cum right there.

Why, why had you made this bet.

day three

Getting out of the house was the only option, you couldn’t take it anymore. Especially after the pent up energy established yesterday, you couldn’t handle the stares and the constant need to have his hands on you. If you stayed too long, you’d break the bet.

So, you treated yourself to a bit of a shopping spree for the day. You picked out new clothes from a few stores, even picking up a shirt for Grayson you knew he would love, and some shoes for Ethan. You went to lunch, taking your time, even going to get coffee later on. It was a nice break from the tension, though every time you looked at your phone and saw your lock screen - a picture of you and shirtless Grayson in the mirror - it sent tingles down your spine, reminding you of what you were finally getting back tonight.

Your final stop was a lingerie shop. It was always fun to look at all the pretty lace patterns and colors - usually you just window shopped, but you were trying to draw out the process as long as you could. An emerald green number caught your eye, laid out on one of the tables. It was lace and silk, delicate but sexy at the same time. On a bit of a whim, you bought it, adding the bag to those already on your arm as you headed home. You took the long way, happy to see that it was already 7pm by the time you pulled in the driveway.

Four and a half more hours. That was it. Just four and a half more hours. Surely, you could do it.

When you came in, Ethan was eating cereal, and had already begun sulking. That lifted some of the tension that was hanging over the house, specifically coming from the direction of the living room where Grayson was practicing handstands.

“Awe, is somebody sad they’re going to lose the bet?” You teased, sitting the bags down and digging around for his shoes.

“Time’s not up yet,” he grumbled.

“Well, I got you a pity gift,” you smiled, passing him the box. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, I’ll need a distraction from you all sucking face constantly,” he rolled his eyes. You knew he’d be grateful for the shoes once he got over his loss.

“Hey Gray, I got you something,” you called, heading to the living room with your bags. He was still in his handstand and he brought himself down slowly, a smooth landing.

“Lemme see,” he smiled. The frustration he’d had yesterday was still there, but he was trying to be helpful, as were you. Spending the day apart had made it easier, and with the finish line in sight the both of you were in higher spirits.

“I can’t remember which bag it’s in,” you mumbled, starting to sit them down so you could look through them. Grayson picked one up, and before you could say anything his hand was in it, no doubt feeling the lace and silk.

He froze, eyes darkening again.

“Is this for later,” he practically mouthed the words, barely speaking so Ethan didn’t hear him.

“It can be,” you whispered back, blushing. He only nodded, a wicked excitement in his eyes.

After the teasing and tension yesterday, you were a bit worried that your new set wouldn’t even survive the night. He had a bit of a habit of ripping things when he got dominant. You supposed you could just buy another one if you had to.

You kept yourself busy after giving him his shirt, looking for distractions anywhere you could. You ate a quick dinner, then decided to take a nap.

“I’m going to sleep,” you announced to the boys, heading towards your room.

“It’s 8:30,” Ethan said, confused.

“Well, I’m probably going to have a long night, so,” you grinned at him. Grayson choked, looking up at you.

“Gross. Go to bed,” E grumbled. You obliged, heading to your room. You killed another hour or so on your phone before realizing that you might actually fall asleep. Not wanting to ruin the surprise, you changed into your lingerie, looking yourself over in the mirror. It was just as flattering as you hoped it would be, accentuating all your favorite areas.

Grayson was gonna lose it.

You climbed back onto the bed, comforted by the feeling of the soft cotton on your exposed skin. You curled up, getting comfy and eventually drifting off to sleep.

The next thing you felt were two large hands on your waist, putting you on your back.

“What the?”

“It’s 11:36.” It was Grayson’s voice, and it clicked.

The bet was over. Thank fuck.

You were suddenly wide awake, and you couldn’t get your hands on him quick enough. His skin was soft and warm as you reached up to his shoulders, running along the muscles until you got to his neck. You pulled his face down to yours, crashing your lips together. You’d never felt anything so good in your life.

“We’re never doing anything like that ever again,” you mumbled against his lips, hands back on his skin, at his waist now, curling around his back trying to pull him closer to you.

“Agreed,” he said, kissing you again before he bailed to the side, reaching over and pulling you on top of him. And suddenly you were touching everywhere. His thighs were against yours, and you could feel his dick against you, his torso wide and strong beneath you as his hands roamed down your side, over your hip and around to your ass.

“Fuck, you look so good,” he groaned, fingers toying with the fabric of your thong. Your hips bucked at the feeling of his hand on your ass, and it created a delicious friction against his dick that had you starting a rhythm in no time. He sat up then so you were on his lap, gravity causing more pressure as you kept grinding, both of your breathing picking up at the sensation. After the pent up hormones of the last few days, you were sure you could cum just like that, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he did too.

He reached behind you, unclipping your bra with ease, pulling it off your arms and tossing it across the room. Then, his hands were at your hips, fingers digging into your skin, lips at your neck as you worked him over.

“Surprised you aren’t punishing me for being a tease,” you mumbled, then gasped at the bite that resulted from your words.

“Don’t tempt me, we’ve got all night,” he groaned, moving you a bit faster. You clung to him tighter, grateful that he’d decided to just focus on pleasure tonight.

“Just wanna feel you.” His words were hardly a warning as he rolled over, putting you back on the bed. He reached behind himself, unlocking your legs from around his waist before he moved down the bed. His hands went to you hips, scooting you up a tiny bit before he hooked his index fingers into the waist of your thong, swiftly discarding it after it was off.

“Look even better like this,” he hummed, crawling up to kiss you again. You chased his lips when he broke it off, only to gasp a bit when you felt him press a kiss to your collarbone. He moved down, cupping each tit and licking and sucking along your nipples until you were squirming. His progress down your torso was painfully slow, each little nip with his teeth making your whole body jolt. By the time he got to your inner thigh, you were begging.

“Please Gray, please fuck, give me something,” you whined, practically writhing underneath him.

“As you wish.” And then his mouth was on you. He knew you better than anyone - and he wasted no time. He worked you over like the expert he was, tongue flat then fast, with just the right pressure. You never lasted long like this, with your hands in his hair and his hands pinning your hips down to the bed. But this might have been the quickest - it couldn’t have been a minute before you were cumming, pulling on his hair as you let go. Your legs were actually shaking, and he pulled back, thumbs rubbing along your skin as you came down, catching your breath.

“Holy shit,” you choked out, trying to swallow as you gasped.

“That was hot as fuck. Didn’t even know you could cum that fast,” he grinned, obviously a bit proud of himself. You didn’t blame him - with that tongue he could have an ego as big as he wanted. He pressed kisses to your hips, then your ribs, the middle of your chest, giving you time to get your breathing back to normal before he caught your lips with his again.

Now it was your turn. You reached down into his boxers, wrapping a hand around his dick. It was heavy and hard in your hand, but his hiss made you stop your movements.

“Baby, I’m already not gonna last, don’t need you making it any shorter and bruising my ego,” he huffed, obviously trying to calm himself down a bit. You moved to the waistband of his boxers instead, pushing them down his thighs. He took them the rest of the way off, throwing them in the same direction your lingerie had flown earlier.

You spread a little wider, reaching for him as he positioned himself over you, his weight on his forearms which were on either side of you. He dipped his hips, teasing you for just a moment, before pushing in. You sighed at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding yourself steady so that he didn’t push you up the bed. When he was balls-deep, he kissed your forehead.

“Missed you,” he whispered, and you could have melted right there. “You ready?”

You nodded - it didn’t matter how many times you did this - he was still big, and it always took you just a minute to adjust. Grayson always gave it to you, making sure he didn’t cause you any pain.

He lowered himself down so that some of his weight was on you, and then he snapped his hips back, driving into you with a groan. He was everything you could feel and see, his chest against yours, bodies touching everywhere that they possibly could as he started a quick rhythm.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned, voice deep as he went deeper with every thrust, hitting the spot that had your toes curling, nails scraping down his back.

“Jesus fuck Gray, I’m gonna cum again, fuck,” you said, pleasure loosening your tongue. He moaned at that, burying his face in your neck, biting at the skin he found as he sped up his hips.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” you squeaked out as your next orgasm hit, every muscle you had clenching up in pleasure.

“God,” Grayson moaned, somehow moving even faster, holding himself up with one arm while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your hips up to get another angle. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Jesus baby, fuck.”

And even in your blissed out state, you felt him cum, cock twitching inside you before his weight lowered onto you for a moment, arm still wrapped all the way around you. As soon as he could function, he rolled the both of you over so he didn’t crush you. You didn’t separate at all as you laid on top of him, weak and satisfied as he stayed seated inside you, both of you fucked out and content.

You knew you were probably making a mess and you neither of you gave a fuck, not moving an inch other than Grayson’s hands wandering, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. Eventually he rolled over, sliding out of you gently with a kiss to your forehead before he got up and went to get a washcloth. He cleaned you up, as well as what was left on the sheets before tossing the rag in the laundry. He pulled his boxers back on before climbing back in bed.

“All good baby girl?” He gave you a soft smile as he laid down. You used the energy you had left to climb back onto him, unwilling to have any space between you at all after the last three days.

“I am now,” you sighed, content just to have his skin on yours. You just enjoyed each other’s presence for a few more minutes, and then you felt Grayson laugh a little bit underneath you, making you sit up just enough to look at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that we won the bet. I kinda forgot, I was just ready for it to be over. But now we can literally do whatever we want and E can’t say shit,” he laughed, hugging you a bit tighter.

“We could literally have sex in the living room and he can’t say shit,” you grinned, quirking a mischievous eyebrow.

Grayson just shook his head with the biggest smile, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“Nah. All mine.”

#this put me through the fucking RINGER #and im SCARED cause it's my first smut on this blog #so pls LET A BITCH KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT #grayson imagine #lynds writes #grayson smut #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine #IM NERVOUS #grayson imagines

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magioftheseas · 3 years

Text

Back to December

For @badthingshappenbingo and @i-demand-a-hug

Prompt: Don’t You Dare Pity Me taken from here.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Implied (?) mental instability and implicit references to death.

Summary: It was another morning where he wakes up entangled with Akechi Goro, and his phone buzzes.

Notes: That prompt could be stapled onto any shuake fic, because these two just be like that. But it’s friendly friend’s birthday and I thought I’d complete something more bitter than sweet. It’s been a while since I finished another prompt on my bthb, so here’s to another bingo! It’s pretty short, too, so I hope it’s an easy read in that respect.

***Alternate Ao3 Link*** Commission? Donate?

It’s not just any other morning, but Akira wakes up like it is. Face half-buried into chestnut locks, spooning a warm, sinewy figure—Akira wakes up with a contented sigh. The other stirs, but remains otherwise asleep. Akira is half-tempted to squeeze his eyes back shut and revel in the scent of cinnamon spice and jasmine.

But his phone buzzes, so he has to detangle himself to answer.

>Coming to get you. Will be there at eleven.

He’s half-tempted to text Ryuji back and tell him not to bother. Obviously, he doesn’t and instead texts back a single letter. With his usual smile, he refrains from chucking his phone and instead sets it carefully aside.

Akechi shifts, rolling onto his back. He barely rustles the sheets, but Akira tugs them over his shoulder anyway. His smile is a bit softer when Akechi groans. When Akechi throws a hand on his face, digging his palm into his eye.

“What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

Akechi’s uncovered eye opens to glare at him.

“That’s not what I mean. Have you really been avoiding looking at your calendar again?”

He’s long torn the thing down. Neutrally, he shakes his head.

“I’ll make you coffee. Come on.”

Akechi groans again, louder and with more purpose.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Yeah,” was his easy response. “I know. Three cubes of sugar as always?”

“You should stop wasting that on me.”

“Three cubes it is.”

It’s easy to glide into the kitchen as he always does. To pluck out some coffee beans to grind.

“Just instant is fine,” Akechi says from behind. “You shouldn’t go through too much effort. It’s not like my standards are that high, considering I’m with you.”

Akira gives him a grin. “All the more reason to spoil you, detective. The most expensive brand of beans we have it is.”

“It’s all just going to waste,” Akechi replied, straight-faced and unimpressed. “Seriously, Kurusu, what are you doing?”

He was grinding coffee beans and making coffee, obviously. There was no need to answer when it was obvious. Hell, it was routine. A nice, hot, high-quality cup of coffee was placed on the table for Akechi, with three sugar cubes added. Just as the detective liked it.

Akechi settles into the chair that Akira pulls out for him. Akechi sighs, looking quite tired, but not protesting as Akira squeezes his shoulders. Rather than protesting, Akechi sips at his coffee. There’s the slightest hint of a sparkle in his gaze at the taste, just as Akira remembers.

It’s nice to imagine you like this, he thinks. Domestic and content. Comfortable and mine.

In moments like these, his desire to embrace Akechi and squeeze was almost overbearing. At the very least, he wants so dearly to hold the other’s hand and entwine their fingers together. Because Akechi won’t let him, he settles for just placing his hand atop the other’s. He feels Akechi squeeze it into a fist, tense and not lightening up even when Akira strokes his knuckles.

“Stop,” he orders, almost weakly.

Akira grips the other’s hand. Akechi scowls at him but makes no move to physically pry him off. It’s cowardice that Akira holds no love for and absolutely doesn’t want to concede to.

“Kurusu,” Akechi hisses, but any move he makes is a barebones shift towards him. It’s infuriating, and that must show on Akechi’s face which darkens like the sky before a storm. “Kurusu...”

“Goro,” Akira returns cheekily, nuzzling into Akechi’s nape. He presses a kiss to the cervical spine, another to the base of the skull, and finally one atop the crown. Akechi’s honey-brown hair is as soft as it’s ever been against his lips.

“Stop this nonsense,” Akechi snaps at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Do you want a bullet point list?”

“Your jokes are horrible, Kurusu.”

“That’s Joker to you.” Akira finally felt his smile twitch. “Or leader, if you’re so inclined. I don’t think calling me by my surname like we’re just acquaintances is appropriate anymore. We’re much closer than that, don’t you think?”

Akechi turns away to scowl at his coffee. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Akira leans in to kiss his jaw.

“Sakamoto is on his way,” Akechi reminds him stiffly and irritably.

“I’ll make the most of our time together before then.”

“Our time.” Akechi lets out a laugh, low and ugly and so very lovely for it. It’s nothing like the saccharine giggle of the second detective prince, but it’s so wonderfully Akechi Goro, even if it’s more muted than before.

“Your time,” Akechi then corrected him with a snarl, fitting an impressive amount of disdain into just that word.

“My time,” Akira agreed if only to show his fondness. “I’d give you all of it, you know. If only you’d ask.”

“Because I ran out of it?” Akechi looked so terribly unamused. “I don’t need your fucking charity. Nor your pity.”

Akira simply smiles at him.

“I don’t need your pity,” Akechi reiterates. “So, stop with this, Kurusu. Let me go. Let me leave.”

Let you leave me?

“You don’t have anywhere else to go,” Akira reminded him simply. With how understanding he was, he felt no annoyance. He did, however, feel a little sad when Akechi’s beautiful face crumbled like wet tissue.

“Please let me leave.”

You said not to pity you when you make a face like this...

“What value is there in keeping me around?” Akechi asked him next, still so outwardly broken with glittering pieces that Akira took in avidly. “Isn’t this hurting you?”

You really are...stronger than you think.

In lieu of a verbal answer, Akira takes the other’s hands and presses into them so very greedily.

When Ryuji finally arrived, Akira only had one last thing to say to Akechi Goro.

“Stay.”

Alongside the now cold cup of coffee, the once detective had no other choice to remain where he was. Still, Akira felt a little anxious as he stepped outside. And Ryuji, still, seemed a bit awkward. He still offered a wide grin, but the strain at the edges was undeniable.

“Hey, man, I know it, uh...” Ryuji pauses for a moment to shuffle uncomfortably. “With what time of the year it is, I figured... It wouldn’t be cool to let you stay in an empty house all day.”

Akira nods. “Mm.”

Nothing else would come, but Ryuji’s gaze was still warm with sympathy. Pity.

Akira’s gaze falls, but for Ryuji’s sake, he doesn’t look back even though he wants to.

It was just going to be another one of those days.

#shuake #akeshu #Persona 5 #Magi fics #bad things bingo

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silver-lily-louise · 4 years

Text

This is Nice

In which Alec and Izzy get drunk, and Magnus has the patience of a saint.

Read it on AO3, or below!

~oOo~

Alec is pretty certain that he’s drunk.

‘I think I’m drunk,’ he says, just in case. On the floor next to his couch – not HIS couch, it’s probably Simon’s or Izzy’s because it’s in THEIR apartment – Izzy laughs. ‘I like being drunk,’ she says.

Alec hums in agreement, closing his eyes. Being drunk is nice. It’s all floaty and warm and happy, and those are nice things. He has everything he wants right now.

And then he opens his eyes and glares at the ceiling because that’s not true. ‘I want Magnus,’ he says. ‘Can I have Magnus?’ ‘I think so,’ Izzy says reasonably, and Alec nods because that sounds right to him too. ‘You should… you should call him.’

Alec beams, because that’s the best idea he’s heard ever. ‘I should!’ he exclaims – and he pulls his phone out from his inside pocket and hits speed dial 1 because Magnus is number one. ‘Alexander?’ ‘Maaagnusss!’ he crows. ‘Izzy, I got Magnus!’

Izzy gives a cheer, and over the phone, Magnus laughs, and Alec smiles because if Magnus is happy it’s definitely a good day, those are just the rules. And then he smiles some more, because Magnus has a really really nice voice. He likes listening to it. ‘ALEC.’ Uh-oh. Alec swallows. Either he’s missed something, or Magnus is angry at him. ‘Yeah?’ he says, high-pitched, because he’s hoping that if he sounds casual enough it’ll just go away. There’s a sigh through the phone, but it doesn’t sound angry, and Alec smiles because it worked, hooray! ‘I said, do you need me to come and pick you up?’ Magnus asks, and he’s louder now and that’s nice because it’s MORE of his voice, which is nice.

And then Alec realizes that Magnus wants to pick him up and nods enthusiastically. ‘Yeah!’ he says, grinning. ‘You should – you should come pick me up. I think I’m a bit drunk,’ he confides. ‘I never would have guessed,’ Magnus says, but Alec thinks he’s just being modest because Magnus is really really smart and probably could have guessed if he wanted to, even if Alec’s only a bit drunk. ‘Where are you?’

‘Couch,’ Alec says confidently. ‘I’m lying down, I’m… uh…’ Shit, what is this place called? ‘Izzy,’ he says, turning to face her, ‘what’s this place called?’ Izzy frowns. ‘I don’t think it has a name,’ she says.

Alec’s stomach drops, because if it doesn’t have a name then how is Magnus gonna find –

A flash of light appears behind Izzy, and Magnus steps out of a portal. Alec drops his phone, grinning. He should have known. Magnus is so smart. ‘Magnus!’ he cries, reaching out towards him.

Magnus smiles back at him, waving at Izzy with a spark of magic that also puts a glass of water on her coffee table, and coming over to Alec and crouching down so they’re face to face, which is EXCELLENT because Magnus is very very handsome. ‘Hi,’ Alec says quietly. Magnus shushes him. Maybe he wants to see how quiet they can be. ‘Hi yourself,’ he says, running a hand through Alec’s hair which feels amazing. ‘How are you feeling?’ ‘Good,’ Alec says – but that’s not good enough, so he tries again. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

There, that’s much better. Magnus looks all soft and smiley now. Alec feels a surge of pride.

Izzy groans. ‘It’s not fair,’ she complains. ‘I want my boyfriend, but he’s not here.’ ‘You should get a husband instead,’ Alec suggests, because he has a husband and it’s AWESOME and now he has his husband right here. Izzy gasps. ‘I should!’ she exclaims, reaching for her phone. ‘I’ll tell him!’

And then Alec gets a bit distracted because Magnus laughs again, louder. ‘Well, that ought to be an interesting conversation, but perhaps not one we should be here to witness,’ he says, and Alec nods because Magnus is always right and because he’s playing with Alec’s hair again which is very VERY nice. ‘Ready to go?’ ‘Yep,’ Alec says, and loops his arms around Magnus’ neck, smooshing his face into his husband’s neck and smiling because that’s very nice, too. ‘Alexander.’ ‘Hm?’ ‘If we’re leaving, you have to let go for a minute, my love.’

Alec lets go, but he’s really confused as to why. ‘I thought you were gonna pick me up?’ he says – and then he gasps, because something AWFUL has occurred to him. ‘Am I too big?’ he asks, panicking. ‘Because I can – I can be smaller –‘ and he tries his best, honest, tucking in his knees but that doesn’t help, so he kicks his legs out as hard as he can because he’d be smaller without his shoes, right-? ‘No, no, shh, it’s fine, you’re not too big,’ Magnus assures him, and Alec flops back down, hugely relieved. ‘I just needed to get into the proper stance,’ he explains, shuffling his feet. Alec nods. That makes complete sense. ‘You’re so smart,’ he says, nodding again so Magnus knows he means it, before putting his arms around his husband again and assuming the proper carrying position.

And then he’s lifted, and he laughs, and it’s higher-pitched than Magnus’ but that makes sense because that’s normal for their not-laughing-talking, too. Magnus proves it by chuckling all low and breathy and pretty. ‘All right, darling, here we go.’ ‘Bye Izzy,’ he calls, and he can’t see her but he waves one of his hands because that seems like a nice thing to do.

And then the portal goes whooooosh and closes, and Alec laughs again because they’re so cool. ‘You’re so cool,’ he tells Magnus, because Magnus INVENTED the portal because he’s a GENIUS and Alec loves him so, so much. Before he can say so, though, he’s being laid down on a bed – their bed, he realizes happily, and he snuggles down contentedly, barely having a moment to wonder where Magnus went before there’s a dip in gravity to his right and he looks over to see Magnus in bed with him, which is exactly where he should be, Alec’s not sure why he didn’t check there first but it probably doesn’t matter now.

‘C’m’ere,’ he tells Magnus, and Magnus shuffles towards him but he does it wrong – not wrong, Magnus isn’t wrong, he thinks sternly, but he’s just – ‘No,’ Alec explains, pushing his shoulder, helping him roll. ‘No, like – like – ‘ ‘Ah – here,’ Magnus says, and then he rolls over the rest of the way and scoots backwards into Alec’s arms which is EXACTLY what was supposed to happen and so Alec grins, wrapping his arms and legs around his husband so that they’re spooning.

He laughs. Spoon. That’s a really funny word. ‘Spoon,’ he says out loud, and it’s even funnier out loud. ‘Spoooooon.’

And THEN he realizes something else and gasps in delight. ‘You’re the little spoon,’ he explains to Magnus, grinning. ‘Even though you’re so big.’ Magnus snorts like he’s trying to hold in his laughing, which Alec thinks is a bad idea but maybe when he explains the joke Magnus will laugh properly. ‘Because you’re waaay taller than Izzy,’ he says, trying to think of other, better examples. ‘Or Luke, or Jace – ‘

And then he laughs, laughs so much because Jace means – ‘or Clary,’ he says, and he’s laughing really really hard now because – ‘she’s so sho-o-o-o-oorrt.’

And then Magnus laughs, too, and Alec beams because he knew Magnus would see the funny side eventually, he’s so smart and funny and handsome and… Alec frowns. ‘What were you saying?’ ‘Nothing, Alexander,’ Magnus says, and Alec frowns some more because that doesn’t sound right – ‘You were talking about spooning.’

‘Yeah!’ he exclaims, nodding and feeling all proud inside. He knew Magnus would figure it out, he’s so smart. ‘Yeah – because you’re the little spoon, and I’m the big spoon, because I’m taller than you.’ ‘That’s right,’ Magnus agrees. Alec hums thoughtfully. ‘Is that why you married me?’ he asks. ‘Because I can be a big spoon?’ He can feel Magnus pet his arm, and then there’s a wave of magic and Alec suddenly feels nice and soft and comfy and his throat isn’t as scratchy and his mouth tastes like really really nice mintyness, and what was he saying?

‘I married you for a lot of reasons, Alexander,’ Magnus says all softly and happily and Alec smiles because that’s a nice thing. ‘But yes, you’re a wonderful big spoon.’ Alec nods seriously – and then remembers his plan from the couch and holds Magnus tighter. ‘I won’t get smaller then,’ he declares, because Magnus needs to know that Alec is going to do this. ‘I’ll stay big so I can be a good big spoon.’

Magnus hums. ‘Excellent. That sounds like a very good idea, Alexander.’ And Alec nods because if Magnus thinks so, it must be true.

Magnus sighs, and it makes Alec feel all tired, and he yawns. ‘I’m tired now,’ he says, because he likes telling Magnus things, likes sharing all his secrets with his Magnus. He’s pretty sure he promised to do that at their wedding, and Alec should always keep his promises. ‘You should go to sleep then, darling,’ Magnus says, and wow, he’s right again and that’s really nice of him.

That seems like a lot of effort to say, though, so Alec just kisses the back of his head and hums. Just this once, he can wait and tell Magnus in the morning. ‘Love you,’ he says, though, because that isn’t one that can be wait.

‘I love you too, Alexander.’ And that’s a really nice thing to hear last, and so Alec decides to go to sleep –

…….😌

~oOo~

#shtv #malec #malec fanfic #alec lightwood-bane #magnus lightwood bane #shs #mine #alcohol tw #this is ridiculous and i loved every second of writing it #i did the vast majority stream of consciousness style and left it unedited aha

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silvysartfulness · 3 years

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I got tagged by @ameliarating and @veliseraptor to do this writer meme thing!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Six. I only started posting fic on AO3 last year. Before that, many long years ago, I used my own websites and LiveJounal.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

177481. The absolute majority of which is of course Heaven Has A Road.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3, only The Untamed.

But before that, I've written for Disney Afternoon's Aladdin, Slayers, Kingdom Hearts, Assassin's Creed, and one-shot fics for my own original verses as well as my friends'.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It at 1194, unsurprisingly. It's my magnum opus on AO3.

Blanket Statement at 302. The first fic I wrote for the Untamed, and the first thing I posted on AO3 (Thank you, Lise, for holding my hand and walking me through it!)

And To Many More at 169

High Noon In Deserted City at 96, which is sort of funny, since it's just a picture and about 1000 words. But the premise is fun! Still hoping for some hungry writer to adopt it and write something for it. :)

Self-Inflicted at 75.

Which checks out, I guess – the longest fic with the most readers comes first, then the fluff, then the funny and finally the angsty and fucked up. XD

I still suspect The Plotbunny of Doom / The Renegades for Kingdom Hearts would score as my all time highest, though, if LJ likes and comments translated to the AO3 format. That fic took me and two friends three whole years to write together, was 104 chapters long and over 300k.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try! Comments mean everything to me, and I want to reply to them all! But when I'm low on spoons (which is unfortunately often) I fall hopelessly behind, and then the catching up becomes an impossible-looking chore in and of itself.

I should really set some time aside every day to catch up on the last few chapters' worth of comments... I do love the interaction and discussion a good comment can spawn!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm... I write a ton of angst, but only a few actually have sad endings. I'd say Eaten counts, as does Self-Inflicted, I guess. TPBoD had a very open ending that was still definitely on the somewhat hopeless side.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Mm, it's not usually my favourite genre (though I mean, the whole Kingdom Hearts verse is a crossover in and of itself) but it depends a lot on the source material. I guess TPBoD might soft-count, since we tossed in a bunch of non-canon references with all the world-jumping.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not as such? Oh yeah, I do recall getting a very upset comment on a non-con fic I wrote back in the KH days, by someone who couldn't conceive how you could claim to love a character and then write such horrible things happening to them. But you get those occasionally. Look, crushing my favourite characters is therapy. Doesn't mean I don't love them.

The Russian fandom are loudly aggressive in their comments on some chapters of Heaven Has A Road, but that's more focused on the characters, not me personally.

On the whole, I've been pretty spared. But then, there's little point in sending hate; I just block.

Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Oh, absolutely. Haven't really gotten to that point in the posted chapters of Heaven Has A Road yet, but we're about to unleash it aplenty in the upcoming ones.

What kind? Most kinds, I guess? Soft and fluffy, aggressive and snarly, consensual, dubcon, non-con. Mostly mlm but I've written het, too. Can't remember if I've written wlw, but I've certainly headcanoned/drawn it. A bit of kink is nice.

I prefer focusing on the chemistry and sensations when I write porn, rather than detailed physical smacking and squelching and body fluids, but that's just my personal preference and writing style.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? Not that I can remember? I have my art stolen regularly, and I've had my online identity stolen, but I don't think anyone's stolen anything I've written...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Heaven Has A Road is being translated into Russian, and I'm insanely honoured and flattered!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes – TPBoD aka The Plot Bunny of Doom, aka The Renegades, for Kingdom Hearts. I wrote it over ten years ago together with a friend and my now wife. It was a monster of a fic, I think about 320k, and the fact that we were three people helping and pushing and encouraging each other really helped keep it going!

I don't know if I would have the focus for something like it now, but it was an amazing experience I'll always treasure.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh man, that changes with each hyperfixation... I may have to say Marluxia/Vexen for Kingdom Hearts, simply because it's a ship that's been around in my life for so long. I still occasionally go back to read favourite bits of the fics I wrote for them, including TPBoD.

Currently it's SongXueXiao from The Untamed, of course, and a very strong contender overall! I've dabbled a bit in poly ships before, but this is the first time I have one as my main, and I'm love them.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Uh. I don’t really have any? Because of my burnout-brain, I can only really focus on one major project at a time, and that's currently heaven has A Road. And I'm really, really hoping I will be able to finish it!

It's all plotted out, I just need to write the stupid thing. Working on it.

What are your writing strengths?

Hm, I'd say that I've developed a voice/prose over the years that I'm actually quite happy with! And I'm good at conveying/invoking emotion, if going solely by how many people comment that I've made them cry. :D

I enjoy writing dialogue, and I love working with layers of symbolism.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The actual writing process. 🙄 I'm extremely uneven and unstructured in getting the actual words down. Also convoluted and inflated text at times - sometimes I write a lot of words without actually saying anything. And English is my second language, so just nailing the correct phrasing and grammar can be a headache at times.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it impacts the plot – like the POV character not understanding it, then maybe. And using terms that can't be translated, absolutely! Other than that, there's little point in making a text harder for the reader to grasp by tossing in whole sections in another language for clout. Is my personal view, at least, of course other writers may disagree.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My first online fandom that I wrote fic for was Disney Afternoon's Aladdin show. Before that, I wrote original fic. And before that, before the internet was A Thing, I'd write and draw for stories that captivated me, just for my own entertainment. If you count that, I'd probably say Phantom of the Opera was my first – I had a whole ”everyone is a horse because that's what I know how to draw” AU when I was about 10 or so, that I'd draw lots of pictures for. When I was even younger, I used to make up stories for my younger brothers, based on movies and series we had watched together. I've always been a storyteller, one way or another, if only in my own head. I wouldn't know how not to.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I would have to say Heaven Has A Road, even though it's still unfinished. It's the first work of that sheer scope I have ever attempted by myself, and I'm honestly insanely proud of myself for what I have accomplished already!

Second would be TPBoD – The Renegades. Even though that was a shared effort, it's a very long fic that we managed to bring all the way to its intended conclusion, and I'm very proud of that, too!

Plus there are bits of both these fics I really like, and that I will go back and read for my own enjoyment occasionally.

tagging: @orodrethsgeek, @ebonykain, @fromaliminalspace, @chigrima, @soawen

#asksilvy #i guess #long post

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lucky-bucky-boy · 4 years

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Cruel Summer Pt. III

Summary: Based loosely off of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Things seem to be on a roller coaster, highs and lows and jumping emotions. A discussion about one of the pivotal points of their relationships that could either be the start of a new beginning or the awakening of a terrible ending.

Word Count: 1818

Warnings: Angst, fluff, manipulative-ish speech, very slight age gap, implied smut, almost ddlg elements but not quite (Please let me know if I missed anything, I will be happy to add on)

A/N: Tags are at the bottom. I am so sorry this took literally a lifetime to write and get out but its FINALLY HERE. Will be added to AO3 at some point. NO spoilers, takes place before the events of Knives out. Read Part One Here // Read Part Two Here

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs, likes, comments, and constructive criticism welcomed and highly appreciated.

Hummingbirds sang their beautiful song, fluttering through the evening sun. Wind bristling through the trees, the faint sound of wind chimes and a bird splashing in the bird bath. The outside air; light and warm, a breath of life and happiness. Almost taunting with how it didn't change from how it was left.

It was a stark contrast to the nearly tangible heaviness that cast itself inside, sitting thick and awkward. The sound of a metal spoon clinking against glass nearly drowning out the sound of the help Ransom paid to stay and make dinner. The warmth of the cup of tea keeping thoughts from straying too far as tension begin to settle.

Uncomfortable shifting in the dining chair, occasional, timid glances to the man next to you. Never had you ever seen him look so raw. His hair pushed back from running his hands through it so many times, instead of from the numerous products you knew he had stocked in his closet. The sweater he wore, albeit already worn, was so stretched out from him pulling on the cuffs that it naturally just rested against his palm. One hand fiddled with the fabric as he bit at his nails on the other.

The last time he even looked remotely this nervous was after a few drinks when he showed you some writing he had done, something he hid but was proud of. And that was easily more than a year ago. But now, now was different. This almost looked like regret.

After a quick sip of the warm liquid to calm your nerves, you cleared your throat, looking over at him. Ransom's gaze quickly snapped to focus in on you, waiting for you to speak.

"You asked me to stay, so what is it you could possibly want to talk about now?" You hadn't meant to sound so rude, but the exhaustion and irritability of the situation had settled heavily. You'd give anything to just have this over with, to be able to be alone and process everything.

Ransom opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. "I just don't understand how we're somehow on the same page and not at the same damn time. Frankly, I don't understand how we were both there and you somehow… came out feeling like, like that about it, about me."

A scoff escaped from you, shaking your head and looking at him with utter bewilderment written on your face. "Ransom, you truly don't see how I could have fallen in love with you?" His only response was a look that was somewhere between confusion and certainty, as if he was confused as to how love was even an option.

"Okay then," you took another sip of your tea before staring back at him, determined at this point to at least make him see it your way, if not to even hurt him a little. "Tell me, how do you remember our trip to Paris?"

He huffed out a chuckle that was void of amusement, eyebrows scrunched as he shrugged, "I don't know, it was about a month after I started fucking your brains out. Woke up one morning and told you to pack a bag, which you did because at that point you did whatever I said, and we flew to Paris in my private jet. We spent a week there, having sex and eating at fancy restaurants. I bought you a bunch of clothes and jewelry. Then we came home."

Your eyes had fallen shut, shaking your head and clicking your tongue as you opened them. He looked smug, but his attitude quickly changed when he saw the anger and disbelief pouring itself out of you. "That's truly how you remember that trip?"

He shrugged, "Yeah," his voice faltered softly as he continued, "How do you remember it?"

Some part of you begged not to open that door, not to go diving in to memories that would no doubt leave you even more hurt than before.

Delicate touches and even softer sheets, a soft breeze rustling the sheer curtains that led to the balcony overlooking the city, intricate smells - a warming mixture of coffee, baked bread, and a touch of nicotine.

Everything about it screamed Paris, the city of romance, the city of love and adventure. The city that undoubtedly shifted the emotions that flowed.

"I know you're awake, baby girl," your eyes hadn't even opened yet, a smile creeping on your lips as your skin warmed at the sound of the pet name.

There was that low chuckle, the one the vibrated the chest your head rested on, that made you melt and float at the same time. The delicate touches, the soft swirls he drew on your back turned to a firm squeeze on your hip. "Get your sweet ass up, I'm taking you out."

Ransom slid out from underneath you, soft whines leaving you in protest as you finally opened your eyes to look at him. You were met with his bare backside as he made his way to the bathroom. "I'm too sore to move," you called out with a pout.

He stopped at the door way, looking over his shoulder at you, eyes dark and a shit eating grin on his face. "Well, I suggest if you want me to kiss it better, you better get your ass in the damn shower."

"Where are you taking me?" The words came out as a giggle as you clung onto Ransom's arm, blindfolded and letting him lead you to God only knows as. The ground beneath gradually became flat and smooth, unlike the walkways of the streets.

"You're not selling me off, are you?" You teased.

Ransom chuckled and you could feel his body move as he shook his head. "No, sweetheart. You're worth much more than everything you're about to see. It'd be hard finding someone willing to pay that much."

He stopped moving, reaching up to slowly pull the blindfold off. "You used to talk about visiting art museums all across the world when we were little, so I figured this'd be a nice little treat."

You squealed softly and you took in your surroundings. You were standing in the middle of the Tuileries garden at the Louvre, beautiful sculptures and flora overwhelming your senses. "God! You really do spoil me," you look at him with a bright smile. "Come on, I'm dragging you through as much as possible before you decide it's time to leave."

He smirked and shook his head, "Well, we have reservations at 6 for a restaurant not too far from here. But other than that, the day is yours, princess."

"You're letting me decide what we do for a whole day?" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises," that cocky tone was something you were coming to love more than tolerate, "Lead the way."

It was no wonder Ransom made you wear a nicer dress that day, insisting on you putting a little more effort into your appearance than usual. He never asked for anything like that. You found it odd earlier that morning as you smeared his favorite red lipstick across your lips, but as you stood outside the restaurant where meals cost easily as much as your phone bill, you understood.

A balcony seat with a view overlooking the city. The sun was just starting to set, spreading hues of pink, purple, and gold in the sky as the lights from the Eiffel Tower could be seen glowing in the distance. People were still bustling in the streets, couples hand in hand, kids running and laughing, the occasional Parisian leaning against the stone building with a cigarette. It hit you then that there was no one else you'd want to be in Paris with.

Already, Ransom had pulled your seat out for you and pushed you in, ordered your drinks and food for you, and as you looked back at him you caught him staring. For just a split second there was something more to the look on his face, a glisten in his eyes you'd never seen before. But, just as soon as you saw it, it was gone. A smirk spread across his lips, his eyes set back to their normal hue and you wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face.

Not because he was being an asshole or because he was right about something (and knew damn well you were wrong), but because you knew this time that smirk was hiding something. But the time to pester and whine was neither here nor there when you were surrounded by riches, lavished in the luxury that was Paris, the upscale restaurant, and the company of Ransom.

The cool metal of the railing nipped through the material of your shirt as you overlooked the now dark city from the comfort of your hotel room. A few glasses of wine you normally wouldn't drink, a shared cigarette you didn't quite like but did anyway because "it's a part of the experience"; and quite honestly, Ransom could get you to try anything at least once.

The padding of his bare feet across the floor and onto the patio pulled you out of the replay the was looping in your head. The soft smiles, the feeling of his hand in your, the laughter and warmth that filled your chest all day quickly being pushed to the side as he reached his arms around you, quicker than you could turn around.

Ransom clasped a necklace around your neck and when you looked down to examine it your heart swelled. A dainty, chain with a nice size diamond laid against your skin. If you didn't know any better your say it resembled a heart but… maybe that was just wishful thanking.

"Ransom, you didn't have to ge-"

"I wanted to," he quickly cut you off, "And be a good girl for me and don't ever take it off." He looked at you expectantly as you looked back at him, eyes glossy and a slight pout to your lip as emotions overwhelmed you. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Reaching into your bag you pulled something out. Without even looking at it you tossed it at him, annoyance and hurt written on your face as you both watched the diamond necklace skitter toward him and stop by his hand that rested on on the table.

You watched as Ransom picked it up, swallowing hard and jaw setting as he examined the piece of jewelry. A sigh and shake of his head as he eyes fell to the little "H" he had engraved on the backside of it.

You smirked, huffing and biting the inner corner of your cheek before speaking, "Go ahead and tell me again how this was just an arrangement."

Taglis (cross through means you were unable to be tgged) @sweetlittlegingy @star-spangled-steve @jessiejunebug @fresa-luna @thegirlwithpaperheart @jesaigne @introvertedmouse @sinner-as-saint @sp2900 @qrndevans @dammitcaswhy @livsheph @darcia22 @paranjaperiyauniverse @dramaticsassmaster @rose-k @lovemesomeavengers @steeeeverogers @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @bemysugarbean @dreamlesswonder86 @ambrosixx @heyiamthatbitch @daazzeey, @fresa-luna @bitchcraftandwitchery @thatoneslytherinbeater @breezyfreezey @quesadellacatburglar @renxzs @imsonick @sambucky8 @honeybabybubba @lover1307 @marvelismysafezone @bxby-kittxn @nibbles7192 @21stcenturywitchcraft @ssworldofsw @im-married-to-chris-evans

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simpforgojosatoru · 3 years

Text

HOME SWEET HOME (One-Shot) - Gojo Satoru x F! Reader

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F! Reader/Gojo Satoru x OC

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Satoru has been away on an overseas trip for a little over a month, and he’s coming back home today, and you decide to give him a welcome-home surprise.

Your loving and goofball of a boyfriend- the strongest jujutsu sorcerer had been away for a little over a month on an overseas trip, you both have missed each other a great deal, while the phone calls and Facetime had tide you both over, still nothing compares to the physical intimacy and closeness that you both so craved. Finally, the counting down is over, he’ll be home tonight, so here you are at your shared penthouse preparing a big surprise for him to come home to; a big, hearty, home welcoming meal, and something extra special for your special man. You are constantly keeping an eye on the time, and making sure everything will be ready by the time when he arrives.

*Time skip*

The ice cream is almost done, and Satoru should be here any minute now, and you are very excited to see him again, soon you will be back in one another’s arms. Satoru was exhausted; he got his luggage out of the taxi, sighing with relief as soon as he stepped into the elevator, very happy to be finally home and soon to reunite with his baby girl. When the elevator dinged, signaling arrival to the penthouse floor, all traces of tiredness vanished, and replaced by excitement and surprise as soon as he stepped out; he was greeted by both sight and smell, the sight of the dining table being all laid out with food, and the smell of the delicious food, that was undoubtedly prepared and cooked by his dearly beloved, and not to mention that there is a bottle of red wine chilling in an ice bucket as well. He dropped his bags in the hallway immediately, and started calling out for you.

“Y/N, baby…? Where are you? I’m home,” Satoru called.

Your heart leap with excitement, and as you were about to call back out, Satoru has already found his way to the kitchen, and both your faces lit up at seeing the other. He rushed to you without a word; he enveloped you in a tight embrace, and burrowed his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh baby, baby, I’ve missed you so much,” Satoru stated, breathing deep in and out, relieved to be back in your arms.

“I’ve missed you ever so much too, Toru,” you state. “I’m so happy you are home now.”

Satoru grinned happily at you, from behind his blindfold, “I am too and for all that stuff out there. I know it must have taken you a long time to prepare and cook. Thank you very much, baby. It is very nice to come home to all these.”

“The dessert is just done too,” you add with a grin. “Vanilla and chocolate ice cream…”

Satoru grinned and licked his lips, “Sound delicious.”

“So, how was the trip?” you query.

Satoru nodded, “It was pretty good, and we had a lot of fun…”

“Exorcising curses or the jujutsu conference?” you ask with an eyebrow raised. “Or the sightseeing…?”

Satoru rolled his eyes at your insinuation of his laziness. He didn’t notice what you are wearing until you pull away to open the freezer to check on the ice cream, and he was stunned to see you wearing his high-end Givenchy black, long leather coat that goes down to just below your kneecaps.

“Honey, what are you wearing?” Satoru asked, stunned.

After closing the freezer door, you turn around, and say innocently, “Your very expensive Givenchy leather coat, you okay with that?”

Satoru nodded, “I’m okay with that, I am totally cool with that, babe.”

“Really…?” you ask, raising an eyebrow playfully, as you stalk closer and closer to him.

Satoru, though sensing something was up, still nodded calmly and seriously, “Yes, I am cool with that, honestly. I was just really surprised to see you wearing it, that’s all.”

You have walked up to him real close now, and you smile at him teasingly. Satoru swallowed nervously as he saw the teasing look in your eyes.

“Are you really cool with that? If you really do mind, I don’t mind taking it off,” you say teasingly, your fingers start undoing the buttons of the long leather coat.

His eyes widened, jaws dropped low, and he gasped with disbelief, while you continue to stare at him teasingly; you have undone all the buttons and revealed that you are utterly nude underneath. Satoru sucked in a deep breath, and gulped nervously. You wrap your arms around his neck; you continue to smile teasingly, and the front of the coat now only spread wider, your luscious naked body now completely exposed to his very eyes, and you lean in to kiss him sensually on the neck. He gasped at the sudden assault to his neck, but he loved it at the same time, and he started moaning and groaning as you continue kissing and sucking his neck. He did not expect to come home to any of these at all, he did not expect a hearty meal waiting for him, and he certainly did not expect you to be dressed so sexily like a sex kitten, and he certainly is not complaining, and in fact he is starting to enjoy it.

He decided to play your game, he pulled away abruptly, taking you by surprise, but then you see the serious look in his eyes, and you lick your lips teasingly and playfully. He growled, and quickly ripped the coat from your body.

“I do, I mind you wearing it,” Satoru stated heatedly.

You pout, “But you just said that you don’t mind me wearing it.”

With a wicked glint in his eyes, Satoru leaned in to kiss and suck your neck; you throw your head back and moaned. He moved from your neck to your ear, his lips not detaching from your skin, sliding up the contours of your neck and cheek until he reached your ear, he licked your ear lobe and you almost buckled, and whispered hotly, “But I prefer you naked.”

You moan and grin as Satoru continued to assault your neck. “Fair enough…”

His hands slid down your back to your buttocks and his hips thrust forward to tell you how hard he is, you grin, but you stop his hands, and pull way. You turn back with a playful shake of your pert bottom, and you look back to him, and wink. “Not right now, we have dinner to eat.”

Satoru growled, but then his lips formed a sly grin. “As much as I hate to put your efforts to waste, I’d rather have you instead, and you know very well how hard I am for you right now.”

You turn around, wagging a finger at him, “No, no, baby, we will have dinner first, then we can play.”

Satoru’s mouth twitched.

You smile and sit him down at the dining table, “Come on, let’s eat, dear.”

Satoru sat down grudgingly, he is all turned on, and now he has to wait till after dinner to have his fun. He glared at you sitting opposite him, you smile teasingly, and the fact that you are totally naked is not helping at all, he could feel himself getting harder and harder every minute, and it’s killing him. You laugh a tinkling laugh on noticing how grouchy your boyfriend is, and you just sit back in your chair, cross your legs and arms, and continue looking at him teasingly.

Satoru growled; his erection became increasingly uncomfortable in the confines of his trousers.

“Aw, Toru baby, I promise you, I am entirely yours if you are a good boy and eat your meal,” you state with a wink.

Satoru smirked, “Really…? Completely mine to play?”

You smile sexily, took a sensual sip of your red wine, “To play, to do, to screw, to fuck, to make love…”

Satoru choked on his drink, but he quickly calmed down, and he continued to smirk. He could not believe the words that came out of your mouth, if you are planning to seduce him, you have already succeeded, and the huge prize is waiting for him at the end, when after dinner, you will be fully under his control.

“After dinner…?” Satoru asked.

“After dinner,” you promise. “My dear, don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

Satoru grinned, “I’m counting on it.”

You both eat contentedly; with a very teasing look being thrown across the table to one another now and then. Although the looks were teasing and playful, but what was going through Satoru’s mind was serious, the food was delicious, and he felt ever so lucky as he ate, after having experienced a series of casual flings, and relationship failures, he has finally landed with the one, the one who genuinely loves him for him, and cares for him, not because of who he is, what did he ever do to deserve this perfect girl?

“You know, baby, I’m all done, there is just the dessert left,” you state teasingly. “I am just waiting for you.”

Satoru grinned, swished the red wine in his wine glass, took a sensual sip, “Like you said, babe, we have all the time in the world, and I have a better idea for the dessert.”

As soon as Satoru swallowed his last bite of the steak, he smiled seductively at you, you smile back teasingly, he got up slowly and walked over to you, he leaned down and cradled your neck, and he kissed you deeply and lovingly. As you engage in a hot kissing session, he lifts you up from your seat, and you both kiss some more before he pulled back with a grin.

“I’m just going to go and get the dessert, babe,” Satoru stated with a grin.

After fumbling in the kitchen, he came back out with the tub of double ice cream and two spoons, flashed a Cheshire cat grin, held out a hand for you to take, and led you in to the bedroom. You sit down and lie back in bed, looking and smiling at him teasingly, as if to say “Come and get me.” Satoru grinned at you sexily as he stripped off in front of you, but he left his boxers on, you raise an eyebrow at him, he grinned and removed his blindfold. He stared at you teasingly as he played and twirled his blindfold in his hands with his beautiful fingers.

You look questioningly at him, “What are you up to?”

Satoru chuckled, “Relax, darling, I’m just going to blindfold you, is that alright with you?”

You nod with a laugh, “Yeah, I am okay with it, not that I don’t mind a little kinkiness here now and then.”

It was now his turn to raise an eyebrow. “When did you become so kinky? I think you are the one who is kinky.”

You roll your eyes, “I honestly will not mind a little kinky play now and then, but let’s admit it, we are both kinky.”

Satoru chuckled, “That we are.”

He sat in front of you, smiling at you with love and excitement in his beautiful cerulean eyes; and he slid the blindfold over your eyes. Sliding his hands up and down your arms, he spoke softly against your ear, “Relax, babe, you trust me, right?”

You nod, “Yes, of course.”

Satoru pushed you gently to lie back down. He stood at the end of the bed admiring you for a while with a contented grin; he knew his baby girl was nervous, he watched your chest rise and fall as you anticipate his next move. You are a little nervous, with your eyesight temporarily disabled, all your other senses are heightened, your heart rate increasing rapidly, but you breathe in deep and out in slow while excitedly waiting for what Satoru will do.

Satoru then climbed onto the bed, kneeling gently over you, your hips just touching, he leaned down to give you a deep, loving kiss, but he quickly withdrew, causing you to pout. He grinned, and ran a slender finger along your lips to stop you from pouting. He then reached over the bedside table to grab the tub of ice cream and spoon. Hearing the clanging of the silverware only caused your anticipation to increase, and your breathing began to quicken. He grinned as he dug the spoon into the ice cream, scooped some ice cream, and licked off the spoon.

“Yummy,” Satoru stated with a smack of his lips.

You suck in a deep breath, and he chuckled.

“But I bet it’d be much tastier if I eat it off somewhere,” Satoru stated with a wicked grin.

Dipping the spoon into the tub for more ice cream, Satoru placed the spoon at your lips, letting you have a teasing taste of your own work, then he grinned salaciously as he started his torture, as he slid the spoon down from your chin, along your neck, down your chest, paying special attention to your breasts, and down to your tummy, constantly scooping and dropping the ice cream on to your bare skin, and you hissed at the extreme coldness as the ice cream made contact with your skin.

Once he finished, Satoru sat back on his heels as he grinned proudly at his handiwork, you are now effectively a human plate, with dollops of ice cream all over your chest, breasts and tummy, he chuckled wickedly as he chucked the spoon aside, and dove down to lick and suck you all over. You moan, your hands flew behind your head to grab hold of the headboard and you arched your back, as soon as you felt Satoru’s rough tongue licking, sucking and nipping your skin. Cradling your hip, he ran his tongue slowly up your tummy and navel, eating up scoops of ice cream, enjoying every taste and savoring every drop.

“Hm…I was right, very delicious,” Satoru commented, smacking his lips, with a grin.

Satoru continued his licking and sucking, and just as his tongue reached the underside of your left breast, your anticipation heightened, your breathing quickened, and when he surprised you by swiping your nipple with his rough tongue, and giving the right one the same treatment, your knees buckled and your legs kicked.

“Easy there, tiger,” Satoru chuckled, placing his hands on your thighs. “All in good time, darling.”

Satoru spent his sweet time eating the ice cream off your breasts, his tongue and mouth laving and sucking your nipples for much longer than necessary, even after the ice cream was cleaned up, and you continue to moan and writhe underneath him, and you threw your arms down from the headboard to hold on to him, and he chuckled against your skin.

“You are total perfection, baby,” Satoru stated with a satisfied sigh.

“Are you done with the foreplay yet?” you whine.

Satoru laughed as he took off the blindfold, you find Satoru grinning down at you, he leaned down to draw you into a deep, loving kiss, and you respond to the kiss as your arms held on to him. Satoru moved between your hips and wrap your legs around his waist and without warning, he thrusted in hard and rough, causing you to gasp into the kiss. You both have gone 1 month without sex, and now your vaginal walls are gripping him hot and tight, he moaned as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“You are so hot and tight, fuck!” Satoru moaned with a chuckle. “You really missed me, huh?”

“Oh, you have no idea…”

“You are squeezing me so good!” Satoru groaned hotly.

“Looks like you’ve missed me too, huh?” you ask cockily.

Satoru grinned, “The phone calls and phone sex weren’t satisfying enough.”

Without another word, Satoru began thrusting and pulling, and with every thrust he bottomed out to your womb, you both moaned sexily as he sped up his pace, fucking you relentlessly. As Satoru continued to move inside you, him being the strongest, able to keep up the speed he’s making love to you, you don’t know how long you have been going at it, you may already have come more than once or twice, and you held onto him, your fingernails digging into his skin, he winced but he continued to move his kisses down to your neck, whispering sweet words into your ear as he moaned and groaned, as he drove you both to orgasm.

“You feel so fucking good, baby girl!” Satoru moaned huskily. “I love you, I love you!”

Cupping his face as you look into his ocean blue eyes lovingly, “I love you.”

Satoru grinned, “This is the best welcome-home I’ve ever had.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #fem!reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fanfic #gojou smut #jujutsu kaisen gojou

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nitannichionne · 4 years

Text

Luna IV Chapter 9: The Full Moon (A Cavill Syverson Fan Fic)

Days later, you go to market to get more supplies for the garden. It was coming along nicely, and you don’t want anything to go wrong. For some reason you can’t keep your eyes off him-his intense gaze, his broad shoulders-you can even single his voice out from a distance. People look at you, whispering as you pass, and you tilt your chin in defiance. Helena, of course, is the first to say something to you at all.

“Hey,” Helena smiles.

“Hi, Helena,” you sigh. “What’s going on?”

Helena’s eyes widen. “He tore that merchant a new one!”

It was your turn to widen your eyes, shock in your features. “What?”

“Look at him.”

You both look over to the fruit stand where the merchant is. His wife is there, which is a first. And he has his arm in a sling. “What—“

“Andreas came back here the very next day and tore that man apart. The bruises are gone now, but not that fractured arm. Told him that if he ever touched any trainee—you in particular—again, he’d lose his business.”

You feel breathless as you locked eyes with the merchant. He looks away and limps to a chair while his wife moved fruit to the display boxes. “Oh.”

“You didn’t know, did you?” Helena chuckles at your reaction. “I’ve never seen Andreas so angry, so…” her expression turns coy. “passionate about anyone in years.”

You feel your cheeks heat under Helena’s knowing gaze. “Oh, he’s just—“

“Just nothing, Zen,” Helena chides softly. “And you’re changing, too.” She smiles and hugs you. “It’s a good thing, Zen. It’s good.”

After lunch with Helena and Gabrielle, you decide to bring his favorite, blueberry acai juice, to him. It’s a hot day and truthfully, you…you just want to see his face. Earlier today, you almost asked him to stay home, and the feeling drove you crazy.

“Sy?” You feel nervous, having never done this before. He is standing in front of the station, talking with some of his men.

He turns and sees you. “Hey, sweetheart, what—”

“I brought you something to drink, it’s hot out here.” You look around and see all those terrible officers that took other women away the first day you came. Your eyes show nothing but contempt for them and you feel warring emotions. He was the leader, right? How can she look at him like she does, knowing—

“Oh, is that my favorite?” He smiles. “Aw, thank you, it’s so hot out here.” He holds out his cup. “Just ice in there, drank the water already.”

You pour juice in his cup. You feel uneasy around the men, but stand your ground. You wanted to do this, right?

He sips it and lets out a contented sigh. “Did you get your strawberry acai?”

You gasp, not because he asked, but because he knew your favorite as well. “No—”

“You should,” he nods. “I’ve got some things to do here, Helena can take you home.

You are sad, honestly sad! You hate feeling this way. It’s not like he’ll won’t be home later, right?

One of the guys laughed, “Aw, she’s—”

Sy snaps his fingers, his expression hard with warning. The young officer gulps and steps away, basically out of arm’s reach. He steps past them and takes you aside. “I’ll be home by moonrise, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Thank you for the drink, hit the spot.” He frames your face and kisses you tenderly. You feel almost lightheaded. “I’ll see you at home.”

You nod, your heart racing as you go back to the marketplace to find Helena.

After getting home, you race to do your usual daily chores. You feel anxious and on edge, as if there isn’t much time and you don’t know why.

As the hours pass, you start to feel it: Your nipples are so tight they begin to hurt. You lose your appetite. Your sex clenches and unclenches in painfully growing spasms. Your body breaks out in a sweat.

You strip after sweating through your dress, and look out the window.

The moon. What did he say the first day you got here?

“Luna IV has a hard gravitational pull, especially at night on those with higher estrogen levels, intensifying libido.”

The moon!

You almost don’t make it to the bed, your blood thudding in your ears, your sex hungrily clenching with need as you slam windows shut in hopes of limiting the effects, but it’s too late. Your nipples hurt, but not as much as they did wearing your dress. The soft cloth felt like sandpaper until you took it off. You are helpless, unable to fight, writhing with fever, aching and in need.

You hear your name called in the darkness. You know that voice.

“Sy?” your voice is somewhat hoarse from your throat being so dry, and you cannot see him. But, you could swear you could smell him—the desert, aftershave, sweat—oh, no…

He comes toward your voice in the bedroom. He finds you laying naked in moonlight, your body glistening as you lay on the bed, writhing as if in pain.

“Something’s wrong,” you whimper, hugging yourself. “Something’s wrong!”

He begins undressing. “No, love. I’m sorry I’m late, got held up.”

“I’m sick—I have a fever-“

“No.” He crawls over you on the bed. He winces as if he feels your pain, or at least empathizes.

“It hurts, it hurts!” you cry out.

With no prelude, Sy places his knee between your legs to widen them, crushes your body into the sheets and thrusts inside you, making you gasp. You don’t realize how soaking wet you are till just then. His jaw tightens as he moves in and out of you slowly. You moan loudly, wantonly, with relief you cannot fathom. “Calm down…it’s the moon.” His voice is strained as he rains kisses on your face, trying to quell your trembling body. He rotates his hips, and you gasp again, your body arching. “It’s the moon.”

“Uh-“

“It’s need,” he grates out, still moving. He looks down at you. Your body had already begun moving with his. “Shh…it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Agony changes into relief as your high pitched whimpers turn into low moans. He holds you tighter, allowing his weight to serve as added stimulus, an added caress. You move in perfect rhythm until you arched, a scream tearing from your throat. You squirm under him as he thrusts harder, deeper, not slowing down despite your climax. You begin to shiver in aftermath, and then he moves low on you, his tongue dipping inside to lick you. You gasp sharply, your hips rotating, and he puts a pillow under your back, putting you in an arched position without effort.

“Mmmm…”

You pant, grabbing his head, your knees spreading and bending in submission to him. Your high pitched pants end in another scream as he brings you ecstasy. Barely letting you catch breath, he crawls over you, reclaiming you and resuming the piston-like rhythm he’d done before. You rake your fingers over his broad back, and make him moan as your nails dig into his spine. He manages ragged kisses as he moves within you, knowing he is bruising your lips, and reveling in the fact that you are branding each other with small scratches and bites.

“Sy!”

The strangled cry was the onset of your next climax. His whole body tightens, savoring the sensations of your body giving into his. His jaw tightens with control and then he goes down on you again, making you whimper, tremble, and then weakly and greedily rotate your hips to urge him on. You sob his name, your voice raw with emotion.

After about four times of this alternation, he knows he has weakened and tired you, especially after putting your legs over his shoulder and pounding you almost mercilessly. Your mewls are even a little strained, a sign of fatigue. He turns you onto your hands and knees.

“Put your knees together,” he commands.

You did.

“On your elbows.”

You did that too.

Putting his knees on either side of yours and grabbing your hips, he pushes deep and hard, earning a guttural moan from you. He slowly bathes his tip and shaft inside you, making you feel every delicious inch. He begins a rhythm that has you both moaning. With your legs closed, the friction is mesmerizing for you both. He traces your spine lovingly as you mewl his name, whimpering your pleasure as you arch, rocking back and forth against him. He meets your rhythm, raking your back with one hand as he holds you in place with the other, thrusting as hard as he can. Finally, you cry out in a final release, the sounds more animal than human.

You both collapse on the bed, him on top of you. He kisses your shoulder blades, your back, and come back up to your neck as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

He turns you to him, and you touch his face, beholding nothing but strong and warm emotion for and from him. No words necessary. He kisses you tenderly, licking your dry lips, and you giggle, caressing the back of his head.

“Are you okay now?” he asked knowingly, teasingly.

You nod, a small smile on your face.

He kisses you again, and turns your back to him, pulling hyou against him as he had become accustomed. In a spooning position, he strokes your limbs, and you sigh. “Sleep now. You’ll need it.” He says, draping his arm and a sheet over you before closing your eyes.

@fckdeusername @maan24 @rn7rocks @kaatelyyynn @october505

#henry cavill #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavil fandom #henry cavill as syverson #captain syverson #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #superman #geralt

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

//got cake? bokuto koutarou//

Warnings: Some swearing. Mainly just Bokuto being bootylicious

Word Count: 1.5k

Notes: Because we all need a good crack fic every now and then. (Baker!Bokuto x reader)

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You whine, digging through your dresser drawers. Where are they? I know I put them away last night. Did I- Your train of thought takes you to your closet, flipping through your clothes in case you might’ve hung them up instead of folding them and putting them in your dresser. You groan slumping down on the edge of the bed. All you wanted was a pair of leggings and all of your other pairs were in laundry.

Then it hit you. Bokuto had gone into the bakery today. He did not- You immediately dial the number to your boyfriend’s bakery and wait and wait while the phone rings.

“Thank you for calling Got Cake where we’ve got enough cake to share. This is Akaashi.” Akaashi sighs as he repeats the customary greeting.

“Akaashi, it’s Y/N.”

Bokuto’s business partner immediately brightens a little at the sound of your familiar voice. “Please come get him. He’s made me taste the same frosting 20 different times. I think all the vanilla extract is starting to deplete his brain cells. Well, what few he has left . . .”

“Great. So, he is there? Do you know what pants he has on?”

“What?”

“Pants, Akaashi. What pants is Bokuto wearing?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know. He’s got those tear-away pants on,” Akaashi’s confusion evident through the phone.

“No. Like, under those. What is he wearing?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I’m pretty sure he stole my leggings.”

Akaashi pauses, trying to figure out he’s supposed to handle this situation. College didn’t train him for this . . . “Hang on, I’ll let you talk to him.”

The line goes quiet and then suddenly you’re pulling the phone away from your ear at the abrupt change in volume as your boyfriend’s booming voice fills your ear. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s going on, babe?”

“Bokuto, are you wearing my leggings?”

“Aw, come on, babe. No ‘hello?’” You don’t even have to see his face to know that there’s a very high chance that he’s pouting right now. As quickly as his sadness hit, it was washed away as he started talking a million miles per hour again. “Oh, wait! I’m actually really glad you called! Remember how you wanted me to try to make mint chocolate cupcakes?”

“Yeah, and I told you that they needed more mint.”

“Yeah! Well, I’ve been messing with the recipe all day and I think I finally got it! I can bring one home later, if you want.”

“No, I can come down there. I want my leggings, Bo.”

“How do you know that I am wearing them? I’m not saying that I am, but like, how would you know?”

“Girlfriend’s intuition. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. See you soon, babe.” The phone clicks as he hangs up.

You shake your head in disbelief. He really stole your pants. Since leggings are off the table, you opt for a pair of Bokuto’s sweatpants. You’d heard of couples sharing shirts before, but taking your significant other’s leggings? This- this was new to you. You grabbed a pair of his shorts and shoved them in your bag. You were getting your pants back whether he liked it or not.

-------------------------------------

The bell above the door jingled as you marched into the brightly painted bakery. A few people looked up from their laptops at the sudden interruption to the relatively quiet atmosphere. Upon seeing you, Akaashi poked his head into the kitchen. “Y/N’s here.”

In a matter of seconds, Bokuto was barreling out of the kitchen with a spoon in his hand. “Taste this!” You don’t even have the opportunity to say no before he’s pushing the spoon in your mouth. “I took some of the chocolate out of the frosting, so now the mint should come through a little better.”

Your eyes widen a little. It was just how you had imagined. The perfect ratio of mint to chocolate reminding you of the famous Girl Scout cookie. “Wow. That’s really good,” you smile, licking the spoon clean.

Bokuto grins, proud that he made yet another Y/N-approved recipe. You were his number one taste-tester after all. If it sucked, you’d let him know how he could try to fix it. “I think there’s a little too much of the raspberries. It’s making the cake soggy.” “Why is it so sour? I get that it’s lemon-blueberry, but it’s like I just took a bite out of a whole lemon. Maybe ease up on the lemon juice.” You were a big part of why his business had done so well in the first place. You were the fresh taste buds that he needed, because after tasting the same bowl of frosting for the thirtieth time, it all started to taste alike. “I ordered some mint-chocolate cookies to go on top. I couldn’t get any Thin Mints, because you know, not America, but that’s beside the point! They’re going to be so good when I get the recipe finalized! Hey, do you want to try the strawberry cream one? I changed the recipe a little since you last had it. Akaashi says he likes the old ones better, but I don’t know,” he says, heading back to the kitchen.

“Bokuto,” you sing, getting him to turn around. “My leggings?”

“I don’t just show my pants to anyone, Y/N.” Bokuto shook his head as if you should’ve known better than to ask him such a ridiculous question. Show you his pants? What did you take him for? A whore?

“Seriously? I’m your girlfriend! I am not- No!” You stammer, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Then you’ll just have to wait until I get home.” He shrugs, walking away from you.

You groan, walking up to the cash register, digging through your bag in an effort to scrounge up some change. Bokuto’s menu consisted of a fairly simple collection: cakes, cookies, cupcakes, and some days, if he messed up decorating a cake, cake pops. The bakery’s menu didn’t seem all that odd compared to most bakeries. Except for one item. It had no description and every employee was sworn to secrecy of what it consisted of. But, not knowing if he was wearing your leggings was eating away at you. You counted out your coins and pushed them across the counter towards Akaashi.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters, hating this part just as much as you.

“Can I get a Bokuto special?” You ask sadly.

Akaashi nods solemnly, putting the money in the cash register. He takes a deep breath before cupping a hand around his mouth to shout, “Hey, Bokuto! Got any cake back there?”

“Oh, hell yeah, I do!” Bokuto shouts, running out from the kitchen, pulling his apron over his head and jumping up on the counter. “Hit it!”

Bokuto’s poor friend sighs as he hits the play button on the stereo, “Fergalicious” playing throughout the bakery. The tear-away pants are ripped away and thrown to the ground. “I knew it!” You shout, as your boyfriend reveals the pants he really had on: your leggings.

He says nothing, giving you a cheeky smile and a wink as he performs his choreographed Bokuto special: a three minute dance break of Bokuto Kotarou shaking his ass for the whole bakery to see for the low low price of 100 yen. Dropping it like it’s hot, twerking, and just general sexy dancing, using his ass-ets to his advantage. He claims that the Bokuto special was the single best thing that he’s ever thought of to put on the menu. It let him get at least one quick cardio session in a day, seeing as it was a fairly popular item because of its mystery and it’s price, but more than anything it was fun. Sure, Akaashi was embarrassed to even be associated with the business when the idea had been proposed, but from a marketing stance? It was genius and even he couldn’t deny it. It was a good time for everyone involved. The customers loved it just as much as the resident baker. People would bring their friends and spend the little cash just to show them what made this bakery so much better than the others.

Bokuto jumped off the counter to give you one final butt wiggle as the music came to an end. “You have to admit. My ass? Looks amazing in these!” He pants, a playful smirk on his face.

You just shake your head and sigh. “Yeah. It does,” you admit. You shoulder your bag, preparing to leave as the mystery comes to a close.

“Wait. I thought you wanted these back?”

“Keep them. You’ve already tainted them with your ass sweat.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You can just say that you like how good I look in them, babe. No one’s judging.”

“You definitely got cake, Bo.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto #koutarou #kotarou #fluff #au #imagine #bokuaka #x reader #bokuto x reader

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syubub · 4 years

Text

BTS as husbands

Seokjin

9 cups, 8 of Pentacles,5 of Pentacles rev., 10 of Cups, 2 of Cups.

Seokjin is a rock. As a husband, this man is emotionally mature and is able to take a step back to overcome any issues that they have in the relationship. He’ll also want to brag about his spouse too. He’s definitely a romantic but the quirky kind of romantic. He works hard to provide for his spouse will do what he can to make sure that everything is taken care of.

I definitely see him wanting to be super domestic with his spouse, cooking together and such. Definitely a soft, low key kind of husband who wants to dance comically in the kitchen in only underwear.

Honestly, whatever cute domestic scenario you have in your head is probably just about right. This man loves his spouse so much and they’ve probably acted like an old married couple from the second they saw each other.

Yoongi

The Lovers, The Sun, Justice, 2 of Pentacles, Hanged Man

Soft boy strikes again. Yoongi as a husband would be so sweet. He would do literally anything for his spouse. This man is big on equality within a relationship. I see him sharing everything with his spouse. I can legit hear "what’s mine is yours". This man is amazing at adulting. He probably handles finances in the relationship, not because he doesn’t think his spouse is capable but rather because he knows that most people find it annoying and he really doesn’t mind doing it if it takes stress away from his spouse.

Yoongi is a responsible husband. If something needs to be fixed, Yoongi has probably fixed by the time it has been brought to his attention.

Honestly Yoongi is a romantic man and would thrive off of little romantic gestures. If his spouse woke him up with coffee in bed he’d be in heaven. Just as he would be attentive to every little need I think his spouse will find that he secretly loves it when they do the same for him.

Good at problem solving and finding a new perspective. Not quick to anger and pretty chill for the most part.

Yoongi would absolutely light up whenever he is around his spouse and it wouldn’t matter how long they’ve been married for because he still feels like he’s in awe.

Tbh lots of arguing over furniture?

And interior design. He’s picky but only because he wants the best for his spouse.

Might get a little carried away in trying to rationalize every little thing and might have trouble letting some things go.

This popped in my head, like an argument for black vs white sheets. Like Yoongi wants black sheets because they look cool but it’s easier to tell if the white ones are dirty? And Yoongi has a whole mental list of pros and cons for black vs white sheets and his spouse is just like, "get the damn sheets, dude" and he’s like, "but what if," and his spouse gives him The Look and so he puts them both in the shopping cart.

He almost gets butterflies in his stomach whenever his spouse comes up. It’s cute.

At the same time though, people looking in from the outside might be like,???

"Are you even married?" Because they act so casual about it. But let me assure you this man is an affectionate man in his own way,

He likes skinship but on his terms (like a cat). I can definitely see him being the type to just always have a subtle touch on his spouse. Nothing possessive at all though. More like he finds such comfort in his spouse that he feels safe and comfortable with them around

Also definitely a little spoon. Fight me.

Hoseok

3 of Swords, 9 of Pentacles, hierophant, 5 of Cups

Hobi, my dude. I think he might be a little scared of commitment. Besides being a little wary of commitment though, I feel like he would be a very stable life partner/ husband. I can see him fretting over what to do because he doesn’t want to mess up and he might be the type not forgive himself for buying the wrong pasta. Honestly he is a wholesome spouse who maybe has issues with what he’s seen of marriage.

"Can’t get divorced if you don’t get married"

Thanks hope.

I think that he genuinely would be a sweet, caring, kind and strong husband who will thrive with the right person who knows how to ease his fears.

Hope strikes me as the type to not really put his emotions at the forefront. Like obvi he cares deeply for his spouse but when it comes to things that he struggles with it might take some coaxing to get it out of him.

Over all Hobi would be a great husband to anyone who put in the time and effort to reassure him.

Namjoon

Queen of wands rev., The Star, 2 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, Magician

This man is easily overwhelmed. He might feel out of his depth as a husband, afraid that he’s doing something wrong? As far as husband material, Joon would be very bold? Like, Joon would treat his spouse like royalty and provide for them in a monetary sense but he would also have the potential to be kind of overly cautious with money sometimes because he fears that his spouse thinks that he’s trying to buy their affection. He would get anything and everything his spouse desired because he’s just that kind of guy. He would be the type of husband that takes his spouse out for fancy dates just because it’s a Wednesday. Like also expect this man to buy his spouse a Gucci outfit and leave it on the bed with a cute little note and a time for their dinner reservation. Ugh.

Expect him and his spouse to have a cute little book club too. Joonie is a romantic intellectual but also just a silly guy and he is probably the most easy going and dependable husband. Him with his spouse is something so powerful.

#powercouple

Jimin

Queen of Wands rev., Ace of Cups, hierophant, 7 of cups rev.

Jimin is a thoughtful libra husband. He will be constantly giving gifts and touching up on his spouse. I do see him being insecure. He seems to be a rather insecure person and when it comes to being legally, emotionally or some sort of weighty bond, tied to someone is nerve wracking. But Jimin is such a sweet heart.

He definitely buys lots of flowers and little gifts for his spouse.

"I saw this and thought of you.”

That’s something he does a lot.

It might be a rock he found in a parking lot or earrings that cost more that one years rent.

He really values open communication. He wants to know that something is wrong so that he can fix it before it turns into something it doesn’t have to be.

Will gush to everyone he knows about how cool his spouse is.

Taehyung

3 of Cups, 2 of Wands, King of Wands rev., 5 of Cups,

Taehyung will want to host parties with his spouse. I also see him wanting a pool?

Anyway, Tae is a very down to earth literal angel of a husband. He really is like the ultimate family guy. He is a very patient husband who is grounded and silly af. He knows how to make everyone laugh.

He is the perfect mix of child like and adult. Hes not afraid to tap into his childish side and bake a cake at 3 am with his spouse because it seemed like fun. He takes every possible moment he can to cherish his spouse.

I really think that Tae has a good grasp on how fragile life is and wants to make sure that his spouse knows how lived they are.

I see Tae really liking classy PDA

Jungkook

5 of Pentacles rev., heirophant, chariot, knight of wands

So so so cute. Think of a golden retriever. He wants to go everywhere and see everything and experience new things with his spouse. He has an actual heart of gold and will probably show up to his house with like 5 dogs he found on the street. I can see JK wanting to sponsor kids. This has nothing to do with possibly wanting kids of his own but I see him wanting to help out kids and wanting his spouse to be a part of it.

Such a dork.

Definitely has a collection of board games with home made pieces because he lost the real ones.

Will keep such a clean house.

A little irresponsible possibly? Not a bad thing but he just has such a youthful sort of outlook about some things.

Jungkook would be that steady pillar in the relationship. I keep getting ‘father figure’. I think I know what that is supposed to mean but the context is weird.

Jk is a dependable husband that holds no harsh judgment for his spouse. He is a pillar of strength and vulnerability and will do whatever he can to make sure that those around him are taken care of.

Think marrying your best friend. He knows every detail about his spouse and holds each little detail in high regard.

I also see him enjoying camping with his spouse. Like full on backpacking in the wilderness.

Values time spent together being productive, ie; grocery shopping, doing work at the table, working out etc.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

I thought it would be cute to do a separate reading on what their weddings might look like just because I’m sappy..

#bts #bts imagines #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts reactions #bts tarot #bts rm #hoseok #jungkook #namjoon #min yoongi #yoongi #kim seokjin #seokjin #jk #taehyung #bts v #bts suga #min suga #hobi

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Shaw’s 2020 Birthday R&S

🍒Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN!🍒

[Prologue]

The birthday event begins with MC in an antique store, in search of a moderately priced antique. She had asked Shaw for help since she’s been having difficulties finding one

Unexpectedly, Shaw gives her the keys to an antique store the next day, telling her to take whatever she wants

Even though MC knew early on that Shaw used to have a mentor who owned an antique store, she still feels strange about it - she’s unable to associate antiques, which are filled with rich history and culture, with Shaw

She wonders if Shaw visited this antique store regularly in his childhood

She notices that a drawer is open:

There are several yellowed exercise books lying inside, and “Shaw” is written on the bottom right corner of the covers in pencil.

MC: Could these be Shaw’s exercise books when he was young?

Curious, I take out these “major discoveries” from the drawer, my mind whirring with countless questions.

At the back of my mind, I have a feeling that this place has a special meaning to Shaw.

MC: Maybe, for Shaw’s birthday…

While I’m thinking, something else in the drawer attracts my attention.

There are three copper coins, the colours antique, under sheets of writing paper. Covered in dust, they seem to be calling out to me voicelessly.

[Chapter 1: Exam Results]

At 4pm on a Friday afternoon, the math teacher wraps up her final point and closes the lesson plan.

The black board is decorated with the homework for the weekend. The teacher pushes up her spectacles. There is a big stack of exam papers on the table. “Last week’s exam scripts have been marked. Come and take them when I call your name.”

“This time round, most of you have improved. Only one student did not pass.” She takes up the exam script at the very top, flips it open, her eyes sweeping across the last row of the classroom, stopping at the seat at the very corner.

“Shaw.”

Hearing his own name being read, Shaw unwillingly stuffs the interesting comics underneath the table, taking his time to stand up. At the same time, the whole class cannot help but turn around and look at him evenly.

Sensing the surprised and teasing looks in their eyes, Shaw instead raises his head high and walks forward, stuffing a hand into his pocket with a devil-may-care attitude.

Taking the exam script from the teacher, Shaw stands in place, flipping through the script to look at the questions he got wrong.

Well, he did get more questions wrong than expected…

But math itself as a subject is annoying. It’s fine if he doesn’t do well.

He folds the exam script, folds it again, and again, before stuffing it into his pocket, turning around to return to his seat.

The teacher’s eyes unhappily trail behind Shaw, before she once again talks in a serious tone. “This time, everyone has to have their parents sign the exam script. I’ll check them on Monday afternoon.”

Shaw raises his eyebrows in mild disdain. It’s just a signature after all.

The old man copies the calligraphy of the Tang and Song dynasties so perfectly that even experts cannot tell. A mere signature wouldn’t be difficult.

He retrieves the stack of comics from underneath the table and puts them into his bag. With sufficient preparation for the end of school, he waits for the end-of-class bell to sound.

[Chapter 2: After School]

Entering June, the cicadas grow increasingly chirpier.

Over 60 years old, the antique shop shopkeeper sits on a rocking chair, fanning himself while checking Shaw’s homework. The prescription of his reading glasses is too shallow, and he has to squint. “The way you write this… Why does it look like a dog crawling. It’s so crooked.”

Shaw takes an eraser to erase a sentence he has copied wrongly. He cleans it till there is not a trace of it left. In an elevated volume, he answers, “It doesn’t matter if the words look ugly as long as I didn’t write it wrongly.”

While saying this, he feels through his pockets and takes out two exam scripts. “My teacher says this one needs a signature.”

Taking the script from him, the shopkeeper laughs until he rocks back and forth. “Kid, it’s fine if you don’t score well, but your luck couldn’t be any worse. Even if you take wild guesses, you couldn’t have gotten such low marks.”

He sits upright, sighing a few times. He folds up his fan and takes out a ball-point pen from his front pocket. With a practiced motion, he signs them.

He sighs deeply. “Shaw, since I’m not your parent, I shouldn’t be teaching you anything.”

Shaw had just closed his pencil box with a “pa”. Hearing his mentor sigh, he takes out his exercise books from his bag again, before returning to a state of studying. “All right, all right, I know what you’re going to say…”

“I won’t talk about big life lessons. Your school teacher would have talked about it more than I have. From today onwards, apart from the homework your teacher has given you, you are to write two pages worth of math questions, and copy a short essay every day. Only after you’re done will I teach you my craft.” He stands up, holding a tea cup and walking towards Shaw. “Whether you agree or not, give me an exact answer.”

Shaw doesn’t make a sound but merely furrows his eyebrows.

The shopkeeper laughs. “Just look at your capabilities - even a math question can stump you. If you can’t handle this small difficulty, how can you think of yielding something big?”

“I’ve never found math difficult. I simply don’t like math.” Shaw sets aside his exercise paper and takes out a brand new sheet. “Next time, I’ll let you sign an exam script that has 100 marks.”

“Wow, look who’s ambitious.”

“Hmph, this is nothing.”

[Chapter 3: After School]

There is only one class on Wednesday afternoon. After school, Shaw carries his bag and runs towards the shop.

Once he enters, he sees his mentor eating some kind of medicine – small white and yellow pills in his palm.

“Why are you here at this time? Oh it’s… I forgot, it’s Wednesday today.” The shopkeeper talks while he turns around to walk into the kitchen. “Put down your bag and wash your hands. I bought a big watermelon!”

Shaw knows the old man has high blood pressure, some heart issues… He doesn’t have a concept of these things, but knows that it isn’t something good.

Without a sound, he puts his bag down and takes out his exercise books and practice questions.

“Don’t rush to do your homework, come eat some watermelon first.” The shopkeeper puts half a watermelon into Shaw’s arms and guides him to the outside of the store, bringing two small stools over for them to sit.

The watermelon, which was just taken out of the fridge, glistens with water droplets. The red flesh has a spoon stuck in it. Shaw scoops a big chunk from the middle. It’s very sweet.

The shopkeeper is also holding half a watermelon, but eats very slowly. Noticing Shaw staring at him, he sighs and shakes his head. “I’m old, so I can’t just eat these cold things…”

While saying this, he looks towards the drawer inside the store. “Your mentor is 62 this year.”

“When people become old, they love to talk about reason. They don’t want you to walk the crooked path they have because it’s a waste of time. You’re still young, so you think you have a lot of time to spare, so you don’t notice. I want to teach you that this is wrong. You need to spend the time of walking down a crooked path to do other things.”

After saying this, he points towards the whole street lined with antique shops. “You can’t just look at these. Learning calligraphy and painting today, and tomorrow jade, and thinking you’re living a serious life. Spending months and years to take care of this palm-sized shop – You can’t live like this. You are my disciple, and I will teach you all my skills. But apart from this, you still have to learn other things. Whatever you can learn, learn it all, and learn it well.

“You have to look at the big world, craft a career, aim higher, be more forward looking…”

He looks at Shaw affectionately. “Put in more effort, learn all my skills, and then get out of here!”

Shaw turns towards the watermelon and lets out a glum “humph”. “You’re old, but I’m still young. I still can’t differentiate plus minus multiply and divide. You’re old so you should be the one putting in more effort to live for a long time, so I can take my time to learn all these things.”

It’s summer, so the night comes late. The clock already signals the time as 6pm, but the light has not yet dispersed.

Shaw puts a brush back into the drawer, takes off his gloves and wipes the sweat off his forehead. “Old man, I’m hungry. Why not let me join you for dinner?”

In the kitchen, the shopkeeper is washing vegetables. He takes out a small box from the fridge, pulls back the curtains and returns to the shop.

“I didn’t cook your portion, but you can eat this if you’re hungry.” He removes the cover of the small paper box, and Shaw’s eyes widen.

“What, you think I wouldn’t remember your birthday?” The shopkeeper retrieves a cake from the paper box, and removes the plastic surrounding it. “Once you’re done eating, go home quickly!”

Shaw takes a spoon, muttering in a small voice, “It doesn’t matter if I go home late anyway.”

“Today is different. A child’s birthday is the same day as a mother’s suffering… But you’re too young and still can’t understand this. On other days it’s fine, but today is different…” The shopkeeper holds up his tea cup and goes to the counter.

[Note: The actual phrase is: “儿子生日母亲的苦日”, which doesn’t have a direct English translation. The meaning is that the day a child is born is also the day the mother suffers in childbirth to bring him into the world]

“I don’t know why adults don’t have an issue with you hanging out here all the time. But I can tell that you wear clean clothes every day, and that your shoes are polished. These are because of your parents. Let this old man add one line of reason – if you’re angry with your parents, you’ll regret it eventually.”

Shaw lowers his head, biting the spoon and says evasively, “No one’s angry with them.”

“You don’t call this being angry? It’s not that I’m picking on you, but boys should manage their tempers better. If you’re unhappy, you have to say it straight out, don’t just keep it boiling in your heart without a sound and then wait for someone to come coddle you. With your personality, in future, you’ll become a person who never speaks from the heart. Even when you’re with someone you like, you’d put on a front – That wouldn’t be good.”

“Old man, what are you thinking all day long?” Shaw retorts, not bothering to clean his mouth which has been dirtied with cream. “I will never have someone I like. I play soccer with a few guys in class, and they spend the entire day talking about who they like. It’s so annoying.”

The shopkeeper laughs at how Shaw says this with an air of righteousness. “Which is why I say you’re still young.”

Shaw digs into his cake and lets out a “hmph”. “I’m not young. I just haven’t grown taller.”

The shopkeeper sips his tea. “Guys do take longer to grow. Maybe you’ll be taller than me in two years.”

“Two years is way too long,” the plastic spoon dangles from Shaw’s mouth. “The best thing would be to wake up one day and suddenly be taller. Mm… I want to grow to this height. No.”

He stands on a chair, using his hands to gesture until he is satisfied. “At least here.”

The shopkeeper responds with a sweeping gaze, “That’s 180cm though.”

“180cm is very good.” Shaw sits back on the chair contentedly. “I’ll make a wish to grow to 180cm.”

[Chapter 5: Fate]

The shopkeeper looks at the clock on the wall, and slowly puts down his teacup.

“Since it’s your birthday, I’ll read your fortune.” He pulls open the drawer and takes out three old copper coins.

Shaw finishes up the last bite of cake and throws the packaging into a bin. “You’ve already read my fortune many times and the results are always the same. Yet you’re doing it again?”

The shopkeeper looks slightly down, but his voice remains calm. “I have nothing else to do anyway.”

The first throw, one heads and two tails.

The second throw, one heads and two tails.

The third throw, two heads and one tails.

…It’s really not much different from the last reading.

The shopkeeper shakes his head, his hand ready for the fourth throw. The copper coins fall on the table with a jingle, and a combination which has never been seen before appears – all three are negative.

“Wow, there’s a change!” The shopkeeper says in a higher pitch than usual.

In the middle of downing his drink, Shaw almost falls off his chair at the shopkeeper’s sudden outburst.

The jingles from the copper coins continue. The final two throws are no longer the same ones as before.

Shaw looks at the coins. “What does this mean?”

“It means that in the future, you will definitely not always be alone.” The shopkeeper rubs Shaw’s head with a bright smile on his face. “I was always worried about what would happen to you, with such a stubborn personality, if I weren’t around anymore…”

“Of course I wouldn’t always be alone. I’m not alone now.”

Shaw puts the three copper coins in his hands, looking like he doesn’t take the reading to heart – He has his family, pretty good friends, a few friends from the neighbouring class who buy tidbits with him. His life will continue this way.

Even though it’s a little boring, but he wouldn’t be alone.

“Also, old man, you won’t have any problems, and will definitely live for a very long time.”

Shaw speaks, and softly repeats the sentence, “You will definitely live for a very long time.”

The dusk has begun to settle outside. The shopkeeper holds the copper coins between his fingers, and gently sighs. “That’s why I say you’re still young.”

[Chapter 6: Birthday Present]

After packing his bag, Shaw looks at the clock on the wall – he should reach home by 7pm, just in time for dinner.

“You’re leaving already? You don’t want your birthday gift?”

The shopkeeper appears from behind the counter, tossing his gaze to the cupboard. “It’s been there for a whole day and you still haven’t found it yet.”

Usually displaying antiques, the drawer now has within it a box wrapped in colourful paper. Shaw curiously walks over and rips off the packaging, revealing a small wooden box.

A dark brown Rosewood bracelet rests in his hand.

In his eyes, this is something only an adult can have.

At his age, he would have received books, stationery, toys or models – none of which he likes.

He is always treated like a child, but he has grown up since a long time ago.

“This bracelet isn’t something expensive, it isn’t that much of an antique, but it is made of quality Rosewood.”

“If you’re bored, you can play with this, and learn to manage your temperament. You’re still young, so it’s fine if you’re still impatient and stubborn. But if you continue with this little attitude of yours, you’d lose out eventually.”

“In this line of work, you need to have patience. One, only when you manage your emotions would you remain focused. Two, good things come to those who wait.”

“The change in your life is also something you will have to wait for.”

These words completely fly over Shaw’s head. He puts the bracelet onto this wrist, coils it around multiple times until it can stay on.

“In future, no matter what you face, you have to be calm, and be patient.” The shopkeeper gently taps Shaw’s head, and frowns. “Have you committed all this to memory?”

Shaw rubs his head, his eyes still trained on his present, completely engrossed with it. “Ahh – yes I remember, I remember!”

“What do you remember?”

“Remember… that I have to hurry home for dinner!” Shaw turns around and grabs his bag, disappearing out of the shop. Before that, he raises the hand that dons the bracelet and waves.

The stars flicker, and the light is reflected in Shaw’s eyes. His eyes are smiling.

#mlqc cn #mlqc #mlqc shaw #love and producer #mlqc spoilers

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