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devoraqs · 2 years ago

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To Know the Cosmos

Summary: Alexander comes to Nadia with an idea. (Set post-Asra Upright, alternate title: Alexander and Nadia nerd out about physics and stuff)

Characters: Nadia Satrinava, Alexander MacRionnag

Word Count: 1633 (+art)

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It was an airy summer morning, the kind that one only found in early December, that greeted Alexander and Nadia as they stepped out into the Palace gardens. Lughnasa and Chandra had winged their way ahead, the owl’s graceful arcs in the sky circling the magpie’s brisk fitting. Nadia and Alexander smiled as they watched the two birds, and Alexander took Nadia’s arm as they began to walk.

They strolled in comfortable silence first, enjoying the warm breeze that carried wafts of the first summer blooms. Nadia hummed a bit every so often, and Alexander would join in, or Alexander would offer a quip or pun that would leave them both chuckling. Conversation eventually followed, ‘I trust your honeymoon was pleasant,” Nadia said, “you look well rested,”

“It was wonderful,” Alexander smiled, “Zadithi evenings are unmatched. Asra and Faust have never been happier. He sends his apologies, by the way, he wanted to join us but there was work to do at the shop.”

“Understandable,” Nadia nodded, “I should like to see him, though, perhaps I may pay you a visit before long?”

“Absolutely, we’d love to have you,” he said, though the small talk had made him think, “Actually, Nadia, might I propose something?”

Nadia tilted her head in interest, “Go on.”

“I studied in Zadith, as did Aisha and Salim. Their education is some of the best in the world. I had wondered if we might do something for Vesuvians too. Not just the university, I mean. More. Something accessible to every person and child. A library, or lecture hall, or… something else.”

“Else?” Nadia asked keenly, “What did you have in mind?”

“This would require your help. Not just funding, mind, but you.”

“I?”

“Aye,”

They both laughed at the unintentional wordplay, before Alexander continued, “You’re one of the best engineers I know, and certainly the most capable of what I’m thinking of. In Zadith there is a large hall, a rotunda really, that is full of glass replicas of planets and stars. An astrolabe, almost, but vast. One that you can walk amongst. Most of it to scale, too. And the best thing, Nadi, they move. There’s a clockwork operation system in place that simulates the orbit and rotation of the Earth and the planets. One could follow Venus as she circles the sun, or see how Jupiter dances with Ganymede and Io. It’s incredible, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. And what’s more, everyone may see it. Everyone may learn. I want this for Vesuvia, a public amenity and source of entertainment and learning in one!”

Nadia’s eyes were wide, and glimmering with excitement, “A wonderful idea!” She exclaimed, “A planetarium!”

“Precisely,” Alexander replied, “And what’s more, I believe that the metalwork of the frames and gears could be alchemically enhanced. There is a method of making an alloy of magic and metal which gives it dexterity and strength, Aisha and Salim developed it. It requires a particularly inert metal, perhaps copper or silver, maybe a steel, and the magic is infused into it. Then, not only could the planets move, we could make it so that it is as accurate as we know the actual spheres to be. It would mean sophisticated gears and some complex designs to get it to work right, and to hang in perfect balance and order like the celestial bodies they’re in the image of but-“

“But it is certainly within our capabilities!” Nadia finished, then flushed slightly at her interjection, “Forgive my outburst, dear Alexander,”

“Not at all,”

“Oh, but the scale and intricacy of the project… it is certainly more complex than the automatons I have made before.”

Alexander bumped her shoulder lightly, affectionately, “Nadi, I would have not posited this at all if I didn’t believe that you would achieve it. My mother and father in law have already expressed interest in helping, and then… You’ve a brilliant eye for these things. Consider the clocks you crafted, the one in the ballroom and the one atop the steeple. Smoothly running and always accurate, aye?”

Nadia cocked her head, “Indeed. What do you… aha! I see! To make the model rotate and move in real time with constancy and reliability, it requires the same kind of machinery but on a planetary scale. For the planets, and the moons I would imagine. Perchance even we could hang the constellations in the periphery, fill the sky with stars. And the alchemical alloy will aid in this?”

“That’s the idea. I really think it could work.”

Nadia hummed, her eyes tracing some of the clouds in the horizon as she thought, “In my mind’s eye I can see the kind of structures that would support this. A ring and pulley system, a pendulum and counterweights… Like an astrolabe, you say? But one powered by clockwork… this will be quite an undertaking for us all. A feat of science in and of itself to construct… Oh! But of course, why not show the process as well? If this is to be a centre of learning, I should like for there be as much on offer for the people to learn as possible. A masterpiece of alchemy and engineering is one thing, but explaining how such a piece came into being is another altogether.”

Alexander nodded vehemently, “A museum! A museum dedicated to the scientific and magical arts! I shall say, this may be a first for Vesuvia,”

“And one long overdue,” Nadia said resolutely, “I care for these people, and they are still recovering from Lucio’s disaster of a reign. I am doing what I can to improve their welfare,”

“And you are doing splendidly,” Alexander interjected gently,

“Thank you,” Nadia’s lip twitched into a bashful smile for a moment, “though it is one thing to survive, another to live. I want to help them live. Maybe a museum and a planetarium made of science and magic in harmony would be a start.”

“It would be a start,” Alexander agreed.

“Funding… this will be a large expense, one that may seem frivolous while residents in the formerly flooded district are still struggling. Perhaps I might call upon the courtiers and nobility to donate,” a wry, dry smile played on her face, “they can never refuse a party, maybe a fundraising gala is in order. And then, the kudos and bragging rights when they inevitably must have a dedication laid to them in thanks for their generosity. A means to an end, it would mean something useful coming from them at least.”

Nadia and Alexander came to a stop before one of the ponds that dotted the grounds. The sun was reflected clearly in it, a bright disc gleaming in the still water.

“We can make the model sun actually shine,” Nadia mused, “I have read one of your papers, the one that theorised that light emitting spells are one and the same as the light from stars,”

“The Treatise on Celestiomagical Fusion,” Alexander said, “one of the first I wrote after my doctorate, I actually remember researching and writing that now. Astrolocational charge made me realise that there is magic in the cosmos, more than we previously thought. And I and other astronomers believe that all of the universe is made of the same stuff. I refuse to believe that the earth is that unique on the material level, and that means magical charge too.

“So why, when we on earth make light from magic, would not the stars function with a similar practice? And we can recreate that. The sun at the centre of the solar system would be the smaller cousin of the true star, but tangible.”

“I have more theories too, ones that I can’t really put into words just yet, I’d need to research more. Who knows, there might be more breakthroughs to be had. One day… Nadia do you think that one day, as we understand more about how physical matter and magical matter interact, that we could one day leave the Earth? Journey to the moon? Visit the planets in person in place of seeing their earthly rendering?”

“Perhaps. I certainly like to think we could, one day. We travel to the Realms of the Arcana,” Nadia replied, “and in doing so we leave Earth, but we step out of time itself. Further than the moon, yet closer. I wonder how they fit.”

Alexander frowned, “As do I. They are beings made of dust and stardust, like we are. They exist on a physical plane, even if it is seemingly a different one to the rock of the earth. If there’s one thing about the Arcana that I’m sure of, though, it is that we will never be sure of what they are and why they are. No amount of experiments or philosophy will give us answers. The Fool, for example. By the gods-!”

He rolled his eyes and Nadia laughed, “I see you and your patron do not often see eye to eye,”

“It’s not that,” Alexander grumbled, “it’s just that I can never get a straight answer out of them. They’re worse than the Magician. Sometimes Scout has to help, and even then I don’t think he knows what that deer...bird... person is on about. I ask a question, I get a riddle in response. And I say ‘I’m a scientist, not a philosopher! I like having answers to things!’ and then they laugh at me. Even the most strange objects observable in my telescope are more logical… Strike me, I swear we do get along! It’s just… oh, you know.”

“I do. Come, dear Alexander, let us finish out walk, then we can send for your parents in law and hopefully start drawing up plans. I’ve a good feeling about this.”

“Aye, me too.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana nadia #nadia satrinava #fan apprentice #apprentice alexander #my writing #my art #a friendship is sometimes built over nerdy stuff and that's beautiful

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maswartz · 2 years ago

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Bulk and Skull in the Powerverse

In the aftermath of the Battle of Angel Grove, Farkas Bulkmeier and Eugene Skullovitch parted ways. Bulk chose to leave Earth on Terra Venture along with Professor Phenomenus . Before Bulk departed he and Skull were entrusted with the identities of the various Angel Grove Rangers, a secret they vowed to keep. On Terra Venture Bulk and Phenomenus ended up working at the Comet Cafe with Bulk using his years of experience at Ernie’s Juice Bar as guidance. Back on Earth, Skull wrote a book titled “City of Power: Life in Angel Grove” about what life was like in Angel Grove before and during the arrival of the Power Rangers up to the Battle of Angel Grove. To his shock the book was a major success. After Terra Venture arrived on Mirinoi the Galaxy Rangers offered to use a nearby wormhole to return anyone to Earth if they chose. Bulk was homesick at this point and took them up on the offer while the Professor remained on Mirinoi. When the pair reunited Bulk found that Skull had made it rich from the profits of his book. Skull offered to handle all of Bulk’s finances but his pride kept him from accepting money he did not earn. An uncle of Bulk’s offered the pair ownership of a bar his hotel owned and while running it they met up with Tommy for the first time in years. However the bar was not to last and soon went under. Skull went on a world tour promoting a second release of his book and during his travels he met a single mother he hit it off with eventually marrying and adopting her son. The boy loved his new stepfather and nicknamed himself Spike in his honor. Bulk meanwhile bounced around from job to job until finally accepting a janitorial job at Ernie’s. He joked that it was the universe making him clean up the messes he made in his youth. Ernie encouraged Bulk to give college a try and even helped pay for his tuition. Bulk would graduate with a degree in business management. Sadly Ernie’s health took a turn and he left Bulk his Juice Bar in his will. Bulk kept the name in honor of the kindly man who gave so many teens and children a safe place to meet and relax. Skull and his wife decided to go on a second honeymoon in the aftermath of the Stellar Empire’s first invasion of Earth. While they were gone Spike would get a job at Ernie’s as a janitor loving the chance to hang out with his Uncle Bulk. When the Pirate Rangers arrived they quickly made the Juice Bar one of their favorite hang outs. Even if the Captain original mistook it for an actual bar. Skull would return to Angel Grove in time for the Empire’s final attack. Bulk Spike and Skull would assist in the aftermath and even helped pull the Silver Pirate Ranger from the wreckage of his zord. After some words of encouragement the trio helped as many people as they could. Skull would write a new forward to his book addressing the ranger’s now public identity and it once more became a best seller with many former rangers even asking him to autograph their copies. Bulk continues to run Ernie’s Juice Bar finally content with his place in life making a difference wherever he can. Powerverse

#power rangers #bulk and skull

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oh-surprise-its-me · 1 year ago

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All of the daggers are a little scared of Ron. They can’t help it. But once they watch a fever ridden Jake hanging onto him it’s kinda hard to be completely scared of him.

But damn as he’s bitching out Mav they see where Jake got some of his confidence from. Because shit look at Admiral Kerner, he’s so confident in being right.

Chris actually had been dyeing it for about three years before they found out. It wasn’t technically lying to them he just wanted to see what would happen if he stayed blond…

Tom has a habit that gets passed on to Jake of pressing a kiss to the patch of gray. Ron is a bit self conscious of it for a while but he realizes none of them care that he’s got silver in his hair.

Lucas will be the first to hit Ron if he was stupid but will also be the first to take his blood pressure and ask him if he feels like throwing up or ask about a concussion. They’ve got a good friendship going on. David likes to joke that Ron basically payed for their honeymoon for being in the ER so much.

Said I need more, and i do!!

Ron getting so sick he has tonstau at the hospital for a prolonged time. The fever is a symptom of something else maybe they're not sure what caused it, but he was at home and the fever definitely didn't lower for another week, they had no other choice but.getting him to the hospital.

Ron's soooo out. Absurdly out. But in all the delirium and feverish talks he's weirdly coherent when asking them separately to take care of each other. He has.a.bad feeling or it's just the fever talking but he can't tell the difference. He think he's going to die. He knows Tom would become reckless. Or let grief kill him. He knows his Tommy. And hend9esnt know why He just can't get better as fast as every other time. He's scared. For them, for himself. But tries, this time ,not to let them stay too.much close, just in case it's catchy.

WHOO! I hoped this would be one you wanted to know more about!

Ron had a horrible feeling. He can feel the fever in his bones. He’s coughed for the last 13 hours straight, so hard at one point there was a bit of blood.

He hates hospitals. No good news has ever come from them.

Alright that’s a lie. Tom got cleared for cancer two years ago from a hospital.

Ron can’t honestly feel anything. He knows that Tom is next to him. He tries to flop his hand around to get his attention. “Tommy?”

There’s a shuffling noise. “Baby? You okay? Pain?”

Ron shakes his head, he opens his eyes to catch sight of the blond. “You’ve gotta promise me something. Gotta let me say it all before you interrupt.”

Tom brushes sweaty hair out of Ron’s eyes. Hair so long past regulation. “Okay. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

Ron sighs. He does know that. “Take care of Chris. If I don’t make it you’ve gotta take care of him. He’s so strong but maybe not strong enough for this. You need to stay with him. I know you’ll take care of Jake so I won’t ask. But stay.”

Tom is crying. He can’t help it. “Stop it. You’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine and we’ll all go home together.”

Ron shakes his head, “promise me.”

Tom let’s out a sob. “Of course I promise. If anything happens I’ll take care of him.” Ron smiles at him. “Good. I love you Tommy.” Theres another choked off sob. “Love you too.”

—

The next morning Tom has to leave for some paperwork. Chris comes into the room.

He catches sight of Ron.

Jesus.

Somehow he looks worse.

He slides into the chair next to the bed. “Hey baby?”

Ron rolls his head to look at Chris. He smiles. “Can we talk?” Chris squeezes his hand, “course.”

Ron blinks. “Promise me you’ll take care of Tom. He’s been through so much. This might almost kill him if I don’t make it. He’ll try to push you away. Don’t let him. Hold on. He needs you more then he’ll ever admit. Let Jake remember everything. Good and bad. Let me be the excuse for why he has to eat vegetables.”

Chris can’t speak. How can Ron ask this. “Baby it’ll be fine. You’re okay.”

Ron shakes his head hard, he squeezes Chris’s hand tighter. “We don’t know that. Promise me.”

Chris let’s the tears fall. “Course I’ll take care of Tommy. I love him as much as I love you.”

Ron relaxes back against the pillows. “Good. I’m glad.”

There’s a beat where the only noise is the heart monitor.

“If marriage for us ever becomes legal you marry Tom. It would mean so much to him.”

Chris sobs. He can’t help himself. He presses his head down onto Ron’s arm. “Please stop. You’ll be there. For everything. We’ll figure something out.”

Ron smiles he’s got tears in his eyes. “It’s okay baby. Y’all have each other. It’ll all be fine.”

—

Two weeks later Ron is let out of the hospital on strict bed rest. Tom and Chris never tell each other what the other promised. They both know they were asked things though.

Ron sleeps a lot those first few nights. Tom and Chris hold onto each other so tightly that way they don’t hurt Ron somehow.

They wake up gasping together one night to Ron not in bed. Chris instantly starts searching for him. Tom can only sit there and cry.

He’s not in the bathroom.

Eventually Chris finds Ron in the kitchen drinking some water.

“You’re not allowed to do that. You can’t leave.”

Ron slowly turns to look at him. “What do you mean pretty boy?”

Chris grabs Ron’s wrist and pulls him back to the bedroom. “We both thought you were-”

“Dead. Dead Ron. We thought you were dead.”

Tom looks ice cold.

They both know he’s not mad. Just terrified.

“Sorry. I’m sorry to both of you. Didn’t think anything of it.” He ends up getting pushed into the middle of the bed. “You can have a water bottle that you can drink out of. Jesus.”

Tom shoves his face into Ron’s neck. Doesn’t care if he hurts Ron. Needs to be close. Chris puts his head on the other shoulder.

The don’t really sleep the rest of the night too afraid to wake up and it all be a dream.

Jake finds them in the morning when he asks for papa’s special pancakes.

#ron slider kerner #chris seresin #ron slider kerner x chris seresin #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #ron x chris x tom #tom x ron x chris #tom kazansky x ron kerner #chris seresin x tom iceman kazansky #young jake seresin #mac writes top gun

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

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tales of the heart

Description - the engagement

A/N - this is part of a three part series where you’ll see the engagement, the wedding and then the honeymoon!! hope you all enjoy <33

warnings : self deprecation, swearing

[ masterlist ]

It was a blindingly hot and sunny afternoon, and to make it worse you were outside. You were roaming through the streets of your home town, shopping for an anniversary present for Harry.

It was going to be your 3rd year anniversary, next week, and you both were overly excited. Harry said he had big things planned and that you're going to fall in love with him even more, when the days over. You don't doubt him either.

Harry had told you that you weren't going to buy gifts for one another this year, and instead your love for one another will be more than enough, but if you knew anything about Harry it's that he will have bought you a present. You aren't going to be disappointed if you don't get anything, because you don't need anything from him, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't expect him to give you something. He was enough for you. He could honestly wrap himself in wrapping paper, gift himself to you, and you'd be the happiest woman on the planet.

You were getting really hot and bothered now, though. You'd been in to several stores and none of them had anything you wanted. You had gone in to all of Harrys beloved stores and yet nothing screamed out to you. You were reluctantly entering the mother of all Harrys favourite stores; Gucci.

You'd been avoiding Gucci purely because the price tags made you want to question what you were doing in life. I mean £500 for a t-shirt - you're having a laugh.

There was someone at the door to welcome you and then you freely wandered around the deserted, but beautifully air-conditioned, store. In fact you were the only customer in there. Not that you were surprised. The new season has just dropped and you'd be lying if you said some of the clothing wasn't beautiful. There were bags and shoes too that were stunning. If only you could treat yourself.

You made your way over to the jewellery section, walking past the pair of boots which you've wanted for the longest time but can't afford, and began looking for anything. You saw a few bracelets and necklaces that caught your eye, but nothing worth paying your life's earnings on. You'd been working overtime, the past month or so, to be able to pay for a gift for Harry, and even then you'd be chipping in to your savings to pay for this gift.

Harry always tried to get you to let him pay for things, but you didn't want to be seen as dependant on him. The paparazzi already write you as a gold-digger and you didn't want to give them the satisfaction of being right. You worked hard, just as he did, and you liked that feeling of satisfaction when you could treat your boyfriend to dinner or in this case a couple-hundred-pound gift.

As soon as your eyes caught upon the ring you knew that it was the one. It didn't look like much, but you knew to Harry it would mean everything - mainly because he never shuts up about how beautiful it is. The silver tiger ring was so delicate and intricate that you kind of wanted it for yourself. Harry has always thought the tiger to be his "spirit animal". The tiger symbolises, to him, that he can overcome any obstacle or fear by learning how to control and live with his emotions, that he once felt threatened by. The tiger is a part of his strength, hence why he got it tattooed on his thigh. So you thought a ring would fit perfectly with that symbolism.

"Hi flower! Can I assist you at all today?" A kind, middle-aged, woman asked you from over the counter.

"Yeah actually. I was wondering how much this ring will be?" You pointed to the ring you wanted. The lady opened the drawer on her side pulling out the tray, and picking up the chosen ring in her silk-glove covered hands.

"This one is going to be £350." She said politely, and you had to refrain yourself from laughing at how expensive it was. You could easily go to Claire's, down the road, and buy a sparkly, plastic ring for £1.99. Harry wouldn't notice the difference, right?

"Ok-wow-uh." You said, taken aback. It wasn't as expensive as you came in thinking the gift would be, but it was still a lot.

"You want to take it flower, or maybe another time?" She asked.

"No let's do it." You smiled at her and nodded your head to refrain yourself from having a mental breakdown for paying so much for a goddamn ring. It's for Harry, you remind yourself - and Harry is worth every penny.

"Amazing." The woman said enthusiastically.

You headed over to the till and you selected the right size ring. The sweet lady cleaned and polished it a bit, before expertly gift wrapping it. At least you were getting quality wrapping considering you were handing over £350 to this company.

You sadly inserted your card in to the reader and entered your pin number. You'd go home tonight to see your bank empty and you'd probably cry, but Harry was worth it.

"Congratulations on your purchase, dear." The lady praised you, which you found slightly odd.

"Thank you for your help." You replied before taking the Gucci, gift-wrapped, bag and exiting the store back in to the dreaded heat. It was brutal, especially since Brits are not used to the sun at all.

You now wandered off down the road, finding some other little bits and pieces that you wanted to add to Harrys gift. You'd outdone yourself this year. The past two years you'd gotten him the standard chocolates, flowers and sex, but seeing as you'd gotten your dream job you wanted to pull out all the stops this year.

"Y/N?" You heard a high-pitched voice call out from behind you. You turned around to be met with your least favourite person; Becca, Harrys ex girlfriend.

Becca was Harrys girlfriend before you, but he ended things with her because he found her overly clingy and toxic. She was always really bitchy towards you, singling you out always because you "stole Harry" from her, yet he was the one who chose to leave her. You often found yourself comparing Becca to you. Becca was really hot and looked like the kind of girl Harry would be with, you less so much. You were never rude to her or gave her a reason to hate you, because you strived off being the bigger person.

"Oh hi Becca." You said as cheerily as possible.

"Didn't realise you could afford Gucci?" She mockingly asked, making your heart flicker with sadness that she thought that low of you.

"Not normally." You softly smiled. "But this is a gift for Harry." You added, clearing up any confusion she may have.

"Ooh what did you buy him? What's the occasion?" She asked being nosey.

"I bought him that tiger ring that he's always going on about, for our anniversary next week." You said smiling, because you're proud of yourself for being able to do something so lovely for him.

"Hm interesting." She said. "Well i'm running late and stuff so toodles." She waved her fake acrylics in front of your face before wandering off. You widened your eyes at what an unpleasant experience that had been, but shook it off and moved on to the next store.

•••••

A week later and you were really nervous for the big anniversary and to give Harry his present. It was his first big present off of you, and it would mean a lot if he liked it. It's not like he won't like it, since he never shuts up about how much he loves the damn thing, but you couldn’t help but think what if he might not actually want it anymore?

"Love, are you coming?" Harry called out to you from downstairs.

You were heading over to one of Harrys mates house. Harry hadn't been seeing many of his friends recently, since you and him had travelled to see Anne for a few weeks. Unfortunately, for you, Becca would be there tonight since she was part of that group. Fortunately, for Becca, it hadn't been a messy breakup with Harry and so they were okay with remaining good friends.

You didn't know these friends of Harrys very well and so it was going to be a lonely night for you. Harry had asked you to tag along, because he doesn't like the idea of leaving you alone in the house at night. Of course you agreed, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable over you.

"Yeah." You shouted back down, whilst grabbing your purse off your bedside table.

You jogged down the stairs and were met with Harry by the front door. "Hello gorgeous." He smiled at you widely, making you feel all warm inside.

"Hey handsome." You took his open hand and he pulled you in for a kiss. Even though you've just applied some lip balm and Harry was practically removing it all you didn't mind, because you were too in love with him to push him away.

"I love this top." He stated, raising your arm up, with his, to twirl you around - as if you were ballroom dancing - and admiring you from head to toe.

It wasn't a very exciting top. It was a basic halter neck top, but you assumed Harry liked it because the back was completely exposed. You paired it with some black jeans and a pair of old and worn black boots.

"You only like it because my whole back is on display." You teased as he brought you closer to him again. His large hands glided up and down the soft skin of your back, resting on the dimples in your back every once in a while.

"Obviously." He cheekily replied, rolling his eyes for exaggeration.

"You're annoying."

"But you love me, sooo..." He weighed up your pathetic argument.

"Yeah. I do." You simply said. Harry’s face lit up massively at the words, making him lean down to catch your lips upon his again. His lips were the one thing in life you were sure you'd never get enough of. They were just so soft and pure.

"I love you, too." He let you know, just for sure.

"I know." You kissed his cheek and you both make your way out the door.

••••

You had eaten some crappy takeaway pizza and were all just sitting around have a chat. Apart from Harry, and Becca, you knew nobody. This group of friends weren't people you usually hung out with, they were more Harry’s pals. You recognised a few, but not to the extent where you'd be confident enough to go over and start a conversation with them.

You were sat on the other side of the room to Harry, as he was talking to three lads you didn't know - and you didn't want to intrude on their conversation. You just sat quietly observing the room and trying to work out who people were by listening in on conversations.

You felt slightly self conscious, due to there being a group of four perfectly stunning girls; who looked a lot like Becca. They were all in a huddle snickering at things they said to each other, but you couldn't help but feel like they were sometimes snickering about you.

The couch you were sitting on suddenly dipped and you turned around to see who your new sofa roommate was. Turns out you didn’t have a clue who they were.

"Hi i’m Darrel." He held his hand out for you.

"Y/N. Nice to meet you Darrel." You said, trying not let your shyness overtake you.

You looked over to Harry for a moment and he was already looking at you, with a concerned expression and mouthing to you 'are you okay?' - to which you nodded your head, not wanting to feel like a big baby. Sure, you weren't keen on talking to this Darrel but you didn't want to make a big fuss about it; especially in front of all Harry’s friends.

"Order. Order." You looked to see Becca tapping her wine glass with a spoon to create a scene and gain everyone's attention.

"Are you gonna do another strip tease for us Bex?" A guy, clearly drunk out of his mind, asked. It made the rest of the group laugh, but you couldn't help but get hung up over what she'd just said. Another. You couldn’t help but wonder whether Harry has been the victim of one of her strip teases? If he had, did he enjoy it?

"Not today boys." She smirked. "Today is about Y/N and Harry." At the mention of your name your heart stopped. Becca definitely had something up her sleeve, and you probably weren't going to like it.

You curled yourself further in to the arm of the couch, wanting to disappear, as you hated being the centre of attention.

There were a lot of chants and hoorays at Becca’s words, before she continued, "Tomorrow is the lovely couples 3rd year anniversary and let me tell you I didn't see it coming." She started, making you gulp and look down to fiddle with your fingers. Becca has just insinuated that you and Harry didn't look like you would've lasted, and that hurt.

"I honestly thought our Harold and I would still be together." You winced at her words, not really appreciating her speech right now. "But he found sweet Y/N, over here," you could tell she was being sarcastic, "and now they're living their happily ever after. We love you."

Everyone cheers' to her last sentence.

"So, Harry. Y/N. We got you a little gift, each, to say happy anniversary." She finished, pulling out two bags from behind her. One gets handed to Harry and one gets handed to you.

You looked at Harry and saw that he was urging you to go first. You gave him a small smile, but one that didn’t reach your eyes because you were still not feeling the happiest. Harry squinted as if to acknowledge he knew something was wrong with you, but wasn’t going to press about it in front of all his friends.

You tore back the wrapping paper after pulling the contents out of the bag. You pulled some more and were met with an array of panties and not just cotton ones, lace ones too. You blushed out of embarrassment. You're sure Becca will have done this on purpose - to try and get a reaction out of you.

"Oh wow." You tried and said as convincingly happy as possible, but most likely failed.

"What is it Y/N/N?" Harry asked, looking at you like everyone else was.

"Underwear." You said, putting your head down as you're too embarrassed to look at everyone's faces.

"Not just any underwear; lace panties. The type that I know gets Harry all riled up." Becca winked, smirking over at Harry.

Your heart dropped at her statement. Why did she have to be so open about her past relationship with him? You knew that you'd never wear those panties and that's obviously why Becca has bought them. It didn't make you feel good knowing Harry liked this kind of clothing, but you were too self conscious to wear it. He deserved someone like Becca if this was the kind of thing he was truly in to, not you.

"Ooh give us a peek." The guys next to you swarmed around you, making you feel beyond uncomfortable.

"Oi lads. That's my girlfriend, yeah? Just leave her alone will you?" Harry came to your rescue, obviously knowing how uncomfortable you'd be feeling. You honestly just want him to come over and hug you, but you know that he won't do that in front of all his friends. He has a reputation with them.

"Whatever. Harry your turn!" Becca says giddy, clapping her hands in excitement. She goes to sit on the arm of the chair Harry’s sat on, too close for your liking.

Harry ruffled through the bag. You spent a moment looking at the panties, not finding them a good gift at all. In another world maybe you'd be confident enough to wear them, but you just weren't - especially when you're dating someone whose ex-girlfriend is a model.

"No fucking way." His eyes light up the size of Jupiter, and it warmed your heart to see it. "You didn't..."

"Oh but I did." Becca smugly looked back at him, biting her lip in the process.

You looked at your happy Harry, knowing that the present must be pretty good to get such a reaction out of him. He sat there in shock for a minute before everyone started asking what it was.

"I can’t believe it." He said again, running his hand through his hair. Harry slowly pulled out the little box that the present was stored in. You see the brand on the box and understand why he must be so ecstatic, it's from his favourite store for God sake.

"Well show us the darn thing Harold!" A lad shouted out, eager to see what he was making such a fuss over. Harry nodded and took out the seemingly small item from the box. He cradled it in his hand, looking at it with such admiration, but you felt physically sick at the sight of the gift.

It was the goddamn Gucci tiger ring.

You didn't think you could hate someone more than you hated Becca, in that moment. You'd told her in confidence what you were getting Harry, last week, and she just had to go out of her way to buy it too and then gift it to him first - making you look like the culprit.

Everyone crowded around Harrys palm, oohing and aawing at the ring. It was Harrys dream to have that ring, and you were snubbed of delivering it to him by his ex-girlfriend. You only had less than 8 hours until you'd give it to him anyway, which made it even worse.

"Honestly what a fucking gift." He said, smile wide on his face. He looked up to Becca and thanked her and she returned the favour by kissing him, for at least two seconds, on the cheek.

You sniffled as your eyes had glossed over. You stood up and left the box on the sofa.

"Where you going?" Darrel asked curiously, noticing how you weren't happy for Harry like you should've been.

"I - uh - I don't know." You responded, wanting to get out of here before you broke down completely.

"Aren't you going to tell Harry?" He asked, walking with you to the front door.

"Bye Darrel." You kindly smiled, the best you could, and walk out in to the crisp air night.

•••••

Harry put the ring back in to the ring box after a few minutes of showing it off. He liked to get all his rings polished by a ring cleaner before he wears them.

The ring meant so much to him and he was over the moon that someone had bought it for him. He'd been talking about it for ages, and was all ready to buy if it for himself but then he got busy and never got around to it. He couldn't actually believe that Becca even knew that he wanted it. I mean, he'd never told her before, and yet she still knew.

It suddenly hit him that you hadn’t come over and seen the ring yet, probably because you weren’t one for large crowds and the lads do crowd sometimes. Harry was excited to show it to you, seeing as he never shut up to you about it. He knew you’d be excited for him too. Harry excused himself, ring box in hand, and stood up to go and see his girl. However you weren’t sat there anymore. The box of lingerie, which he thought was a slightly disturbing gift, was still open on the sofa, but you weren’t sat with it.

It made him panic as to where you were.

Darrel wasn’t there either and that made him more anxious. Darrel isn't exactly the hands-to-himself kind of guy, and Harry was wary of him sat next to you the entire time he was there. "I swear to fucking God if he's laid so much as one finger on her—" Harry started to mumble under his breath before hearing someone calling him.

"Harry!" Darrel walls in to the room, noticing Harry was confused as fuck. Darrel wasn't with Y/N either. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

"Where's Y/N, Darrel?" Harry quickly asked him, panic rising rapidly through his veins - pumping the adrenaline throughout his system.

"Mate she just left." Darrel said looking confused as to why she would leave without Harry. "I tried asking her where she was going but she kept avoiding the question." He added.

Fuck. This wasn't good.

You would never leave without Harry alone, especially at this time of night. Unless you were upset or angry at him, but he couldn't think what he could've done.

"Ok cheers mate." Harry patted Darrels shoulder as he jogged past him and to the door.

Before anyone could stop Harry, he was out of the door and running off straight down the street. He'd left the ring box at his friends house, knowing he could pick it up tomorrow. His main priority right now, as it was always, was you.

If you'd only just left that meant he still had a slim chance of finding you wandering the streets. He couldn't begin to understand how you must be feeling. If you'd left, so abruptly, you definitely weren't okay, and he needed to find you before you did something stupid or someone did something unforgivable to you. He hated where his mind took him and only made him vacate the house that much quicker.

•••••

You regretted not bringing a jacket, that's for sure. You also definitely regretted going to that friends house this evening.

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, trying to warm you up slightly. Although the top gave easy access to Harry, and only Harry, it felt terrible knowing he wasn't here in this moment to hold you and rub his hands, soothingly, over your back. The night was cold and it made you feel even more alone.

The pavement was dreadfully blurry, and you could blame that on your streaming tears. You bumped mindlessly in to a few people that were walking along the busy street, muttering an apology to every one.

You probably looked like a mad-woman which was why everyone was staying clear of you.

The quieter lanes made you wish you had Harry here to protect and keep you safe. It was a stupid and reckless decision to walk yourself home at this time of night, but you couldn't spend another minute in that house. It was too much. Seeing Becca flirt with Harry like that, making you stupidly self conscious, was one thing but then seeing her gift Harry the ring you'd also gotten him was something else - and it was all too much.

You cried louder on the quiet streets, knowing there wasn't anyone around to hear or judge you.

"Y/N!" You heard once. You thought you were hearing things, but when you turned around in the direction it came from and see Harry sprinting towards you, at Bolt speed, you started to cry more. You didn't want to believe it was him at first, so to not get your hopes up when it was some random dude, but as he got closer his figure became more and more apparent.

It was your Harry.

"Y/N, baby! Stay there!" He shouted as his pants got louder and louder, as he got closer and closer. "Stay there!" He repeated a couple of times before he was within ten meters of you. You could tell he was relieved to have found you, but you could tell he was experiencing pain too. Pain you probably caused.

You couldn't help but stand still, letting him crash in to you. His arms protectively wrapped around your waist, as yours went around his neck, and he lifted you up and around his waist. He was hugging you so tightly you were afraid you weren't breathing, but it was more than relieving to have him so close to you again. You'd been needing this hug all evening.

You continued to cry in to his warm and sweet scented neck. His neck was a part of him that was like a second home to you and so you often found the most comfort there.

"You're okay baby. You're okay." Harry whispered in to you ear, as he pressed his head alongside yours. "I'm right here. It's alright." He kissed the side of your head multiple times to make up for the fact he couldn't reach your lips.

You only have to replay tonight's events for you to choke up again.

"Hey. Baby? Y/N, hey?" He tried to catch your attention over your deafening cries. You nodded your head slightly to let him know you were listening to him. "You need to calm down, baby, otherwise you'll make yourself sick. Okay?"

You nodded again, trying to match your breathing with his. You listened for the pulse in his neck, and felt the rising of his chest, to get in the same rhythm of his breathing. Harry’s breathing always calmed you down. Even if he was the cause of your irregular breathing, he would still manage to calm you. He was your equivalent of breathing into a paper bag to coax you out a panicked state.

"That's good baby. You're doing so well." Harry praised you as you manage to calm yourself down, pressing constant kisses to the side of your head as you swayed in his arms.

It took you a couple more minutes before you had composed yourself enough to talk to him.

"You want to talk here, or at home?" He asked, helping you clamber off his body. You landed on the floor and looked down at your battered shoes, not being strong enough to look at Harry right now.

"I can't talk at home." You quietly replied.

"What do you mean, baby?" He asked cupping your cheek, bringing your face to look up at his. It was the first time looking at his face, up close, since before you left the house this evening and it broke you to see his worried face. He had fear and panic washed all over his face - emotions you'd caused.

"I- I c-can't go with you Harry." Not only did he look taken aback by the sentence as a whole, but also by how you'd called him Harry to his face. You never call him Harry, and it worries him that you’d just done that.

"What? Why?" He asked quickly, stepping closer to you, firming his grip on your cheek as if you'd just slip away at any moment.

"I'm not right for you, Harry. I shouldn't be your girlfriend. I-I don't deserve you H." You sobbed at the end, not thinking you'd ever be saying those words but yet here you are.

"Hey, Y/N/N? Where the hell is this coming from, huh?" Harry asked quizzically, his own heartbeat rising in anxiety from your words.

"I'm just not the one H, for you." Harry have you a look as if you'd gone completely insane. "I see the way you look at Becca a-and I could never b-be her. I'm just Y/N. Not a model. Not famous or popular. Not rich. Just me. And i'm afraid you'll wake up one day realising that i'm not enough, but I don't want to be there when you wake up. It'll b-break me Ha-rry—" You started choking up again, it physically paining you to speak these words. But it was true.

Harry looked at you in disbelief. You knew that he was thinking over your words. Maybe even thinking how you might be true.

"Just let me go and—"

You were instantly cut off by Harrys crushing lips on yours. You could feel the raw passion burning off of both your lips. He grabbed ahold of both your cheeks and pulled you deathly close to him. Your simple kiss soon turned into more and you were both trying to fight internal demons. You; trying to push away the fact you needed to leave him. Him; trying to push away the thoughts of a life without you.

You could taste the salty tears on your lips as you continued to mould your lips on his. You never wanted to move away from them, but there came a point where you mutually had to pull away from each other before you both passed out - from lack of oxygen.

"Never say that to me again." Harry said, eyes still closed as his forehead rested upon yours, tears still trickling down his face. You used your hand that wasn't cupping the back of his neck to wipe away some of those tears, it hurting so much to see him like this. Harry rarely cried, but when he did it hurt you badly.

"But—"

"No. I'm going to speak now and you're going to listen to every word, until the message has sunk in solidly." Harry let you know and all you could do was comply.

He pulled away from you, after pressing one last and loving kiss to your swollen and possibly bruised lips. He reached in his back pocket and pulled the object round front, getting down on his knee as he did so. He opened the small, black, velvet box to reveal the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen. You stood in shock and cupped your hands over your mouth as you started to cry again.

"You've kind of made me change my plans for how I wanted to do this. I was planning on taking you to our favourite lake spot tomorrow, after a nice dinner out, but i'm scared if I don't do this now there will be no us for me to do this to tomorrow." You silently cried at his words, upset at yourself having ruined his big moment but also so in love with him for doing this.

"You say you're not right for me. That you don't deserve me. Baby, that's how I feel everyday of our lives. I never thought I would meet someone so utterly perfect, someone that I could fall in love with more each passing day, someone who puts everyone else before themselves even if it means hurting themselves, someone whose actions speak louder than words, someone who makes me fucking happy for once in my lonely life, but yet here you are standing in front of me - looking like the angel you are."

"Baby, I really don't want to involve this in my proposal, but I feel I need to make you understand something. Becca means nothing. Absolutely nothing. I don't want you to be a model, baby. I don't want you to be famous or popular. I don't need you to be rich. I just want you to be you. Only you. I fell in love with you, baby, not some rich phoney like Becca. You prove to me that you're enough just by breathing, Y/N/N, and I can't...I won't lose you."

"Y/N L/N. It’s always going to be you, baby. I'll be here by your side, every fucking day till we're old and grey and in our graves. I love you, so much it hurts baby and I really don’t want to lose you. Ever."

By this point you were both crying messes.

"So Y/N/N? Will you make me the happiest man in this universe and marry me?" He finished with a little sniffle, noticing how his hands were delicately shaking.

You couldn't get out any words to start with, you were so in shock, so rapidly nodded your head instead. Once realisation hit you of what he'd just asked you, you couldn't help but repeat one word over and over again.

"Yes!"

Harry stood up fast and pulled you back to his lips. It has been less than 5 minutes away from his lips and you suggest craved them so badly. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his, slight moans coming from you when he bit your bottom lip, like you liked it, or when you pulled on the back of Harrys hair, like he liked it. You pulled away and looked him carefully in the eyes.

"I'm so—"

Harry placed a finger over your lips to prevent you from talking.

"I don't want, or need, to hear it. Okay?" He rhetorically asked. "May I?" He pointed to your ring finger and pulled up your hand so he could place the ring on. The ring fit perfectly and looked stunning on. It couldn't be more of a dream ring.

"Thank you, for not giving up on me yet H." You said, as you rested your forehead against his.

"Never." He reminded you. "Thank you for saying yes."

"Always." You smiled before kissing him again.

••••

You were tucked away in bed now, enclosed tightly into Harrys warm embrace. You were practically laying on top of him, but Harry didn't mind because it meant you were close to him. You listened to his heart beat with the rising of his chest and it made you so sleepy. He had both his arms securely around your back, one for support and one underneath your shirt tracing patterns on your bare skin. You felt so at peace lying in his arms. It was pure bliss.

"Baby?" Harry asked from where you were resting your head on his bare chest.

"Hmm." You acknowledge him, your cheek still pressed against him.

"Happy anniversary." He whispered into your ear, just for you, as the clock struck midnight.

You smiled for a moment but then remembered how your gift to him has been ruined. The gift that has cost you a pay cheques worth. A single tear rolled down your cheek and landed on Harrys abs. You tried to blink it away but it had sheas fallen before you could catch it.

"Y/N/N, what's wrong baby?" He asked, whilst you lifted your head to rest your chin on his upper chest. You smiled at him, but he couldn't smile back knowing you were upset.

"It doesn't matter H." You continued to softly smile at him.

He cupped under your chin and cheek, his large hands allowing it, swiping his thumb over your cheek slowly.

"Please tell me." Harry asked quietly. "Are you having second thoughts?" He pointed to your ring finger hesitantly.

"Never, H. Never ever." You assured him, earning a cheeky smile from him. "Hold on a minute." You told him, starting to shuffle around to sit up.

Before you could climb out of bed, Harry took ahold of your wrist. "Baby if you're about to go and cry in the bathroom, alone, I won't let you." He told you sternly, knowing you've done it many a time before.

"I promise i'm not." You kissed his cheek and he reluctantly let go of your hand.

You walked over to the walk in closet and took out the small hamper box you'd packaged together, as his anniversary gift. You struggled to carry it out, whilst turning off the closets light, but you managed.

"Woah what's all this!?" Harry exclaimed, sitting further up on the bed from his laid down position.

"Happy anniversary H." You smiled widely as you place the basket on his lap.

"Baby wha—"

"I know we said no presents but I didn't listen, because I knew you wouldn't either. I thought I might've even outdone you this year, but that is far from the truth now." You say whilst twizzling and admiring the engagement ring on your finger. Harry just laughed at you before digging in to the hamper for presents.

He opened the standard chocolates and soppy card first, to which he cried over for at least 5 minutes - telling you how much he "hated" you for making his "manly self" cry. You'd gotten him some guitar pics with his initials embellished in them, because he was in need of more. You'd got him a vinyl of his favourite artist at the moment - one that you'd bought in a vintage store he loves. You also had made him some free vouchers to use around the house and with you.

The vouchers included things like; one free ice cream date, or one free massage, or one free make-out session - along with a few other inappropriate ones. It was something you thought would be a cute idea, but something you knew wouldn't be sold in stores.

Finally it had come to the present you'd spent the most on, yet the present he'd already received. He picked it up out of the box, still laughing from reading some of the vouchers.

"Y/N/N... this is Gucci..." He stated in disbelief, like you couldn't read the box yourself.

He started to unbox it but you didn't want to see his disappointed face when he opened it, so you buried your face in your hands and tried to stop the threatening tears. You didn't even realise you had this many tears in you.

"I knew it." You looked up at Harry, through glossy eyes, severely confused but also worried.

"I know. I'm the worst—"

"You told Becca what you got me, didn't you?" Harry asked making you look at him in shock. He'd hit the nail on the head with his assumption, and he could tell by your expression that he was right. "That evil bitch." Harry scoffed to himself.

"We can take it back H, or we could sell—"

"No." Harry looked at you with so much love in his twinkling orbs. "I knew Becca would have had to have had someone tell her I wanted it, seeing as I never told her. I guessed it would be you, but wondered why you'd not got it for me yourself - not trying to sound spoilt or big headed or anything. Makes sense now though."

Harry moved you, from where you were sat on the edge of the bed, so you were straddling his lap comfortably. He cupped your cheek, to which you leant in to.

"I'm sorry she did that, Y/N/N, I truly am. But I want yours. This ring, that you bought, means more to me than anything. That doesn't mean to say i'm not pissed at you for spending so much money on me, because you know I hate it when you do. However, I appreciate it so much and I love you so so much, baby. Thank you, angel." He said.

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault. I guess I was just anxious that you'd think less of me for getting the same gift—"

Harry interrupted you. "The same gift which you bought first baby. Also I could never ever think less of you. It's impossible to. You're the best gift you ever gave me and always will be."

"I love you."

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, future Mrs Styles." Harry winked at you before you both tangled yourself within the fresh cotton sheets. "I want to cash in some of those vouchers now, please." He cheekily said whilst hovering over you.

"Which ones will it be?" You asked innocently.

"I can think of a few."

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #finelinevogue #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #finelinevogue harry styles masterlist #finelinevogue masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles engagement #harry styles series #tales of the heart series

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landosgirl97 · 3 years ago

Text

Our Future - John B

A/N: Just a little fluffy John B that came to mind! Enjoy!

John B and I laid in bed, his head on my chest, blankets tucked around us, and my hands running through his hair. “Hey baby?” he asked. I hum in response, my eyes still closed. “What do you think we’ll name our kids?” My eyes shot open as I looked down at the man. “Our kids? You want kids with me?” He scoffs, “of course! Why wouldn’t I?” “I guess.. I guess I just thought men didn’t think about things like that..” We readjust so we are on our sides, facing each other. He looks me in the eyes, “I usually don’t, but with you, it’s different. I want a future, and kids. I’ve thought alot about it actually.” I blush, “So have I.. tell me about yours first.” He brushes his fingers over my cheek and lips before pulling his hand back. “Well.. so first, the wedding.. How do you feel about a summer wedding? Maybe at the boneyard by the water? Our reception can be our usual kegger with our friends, and you can pick our first dance song.” I feel my eyes fill with tears thinking about it. “Then, we kick everyone out of the Chateau for a week and have our honeymoon at home, practicing or making our beautiful babies. I’m thinking three? A boy and two girls if we’re lucky.” I open my mouth to speak before he stops me. “Before you say we don’t have room for that, I want to build an addition and fix up the Chateau and the Pogue so JJ can stay and we have room for the kids. I’ve already started looking for jobs to pay for it.” I didn't even realize that I had tears rolling down my face until he reached out to wipe them off my cheeks. “So what do you think?” he asked me. “It sounds perfect baby. Our future will be amazing together. I can’t wait to spend it with you.” I lean in to kiss him sweetly. I then curl into his chest, falling asleep quickly.

Later, I am woken up by Kie standing over me, shaking me awake. “Y/N, get up! Time to get ready for the bonfire!” I sit up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “Where’s JB? We were supposed to go together. “There was an emergency and Pope and JJ needed his help so he’s gonna meet us there. “Of course. Okay, let’s do it.” The girls and I take out time getting ready, then helping me pick out the “perfect outfit'' and helping me get dolled up even though it’s just the school bonfire. We all hop in Kiara’s dad’s truck that he (hesitantly) let her borrow. We pulled up to the bonfire and it was not traditionally what you’d see. Usually, there’s drunk people dancing, hooking up behind dumpsters, or even fighting. This time, they were all lined up, facing us, as we pulled up and parked. “What’s going on you guys? This is weird. Maybe we should go back…” “Shush and get out of the car Y/N.” I did exactly as told, smoothing out my skirt and hair as I got out. We walked toward the group and they slowly parted until I saw JJ and Pope, both dressed in their best clothes, holding roses in their hands. I walked closer to them and they each handed me their roses and kissed me on the cheek before they separated and revealed John B, dressed in a suit, down on one knee. I immediately teared up, knowing what was coming. “I’m sorry this was so sudden baby, but I can’t wait any longer. I love you so much and I can't see my future with anybody else. So, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” I immediately fell to my knees in front of him, crying. I grabbed his cheeks with both my hands, pulling him in for a kiss. I pulled away and looked him in the eyes. He chuckles, “So is that a yes?” “Yes! Absolutely, yes!” I nod frantically, my whole body shaking. He took the ring out of the ring out of the box and slipped it on my finger. It was a beautifully simple silver band with a small diamond perched on top, and it fit perfectly. He pulled us both up to the ground, dipping me and kissing me again as the crowd cheered for us.

Tagged: @samxslaughter

@wannabestarkeysgirl

@jjmaybank63

@my-baexht-ls

@maybankforlife

#john b routledge #john b routledge imagine #john b x reader #john b x y/n #john b #Outer Banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #obx #obx fic #obx imagine

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thescarsilivewith-if · 2 years ago

Note

Dynamics with Kaela and my Monarchs... Hmmm. (minor NSFW at the bottom)

I don't think I have to explain that simp Zaire would, well, simp. But he's also very, very mindful of boundaries. He does a lot of check ins with the people he interacts with and did that a lot with Naja early on, too. He's big on communicating and it only got more pronounced after his slavery. I think he'd treat Kaela's boundaries in a very conscientious manner, especially as they get to know each other. Yes, he's someone who craves physical contact, he longs to touch those whom he's close to a lot. But he'd talk with Kaela about what would be okay for them, even about small things. If Kaela is sitting somewhere, in the library for example, Zaire will go over and ask if the seat next to them is free and if it's alright if he sits down there. Would Kaela be open to sharing a meal together, if they aren't busy that evening? If they go for a stroll through the gardens, would it be fine if Zaire held Kaela's hand? He'd be aching to shower Kaela with gifts and affection but he'd check in about the smallest things, even past the "honeymoon stage". Five years down the road, he'll still ask: Will Kaela grant him the honor of being allowed to kiss their knuckles? Would it be too much if he bought Kaela another necklace? (And he'll still blush when he asks if he can lift their veil and kiss them, as if he's asking for the first time.)

It may come across as overbearing and coddling at first but Zaire understands what it's like to have his boundaries strampled on. He wants to spare Kaela any unnecessary discomfort. He wants them to know that they are safe and loved and they deserve to be cherished. Perhaps to Kaela, everything is an exchange or a bargain. But Zaire would rip his heart out and offer it on a silver platter if they asked for it. He gives and gives, to the point where it might be considered unhealthy. All to make sure that his loves know that he holds them in the highest regard.

For Ashyereh, it's different. Pre-intervention, their interaction with Kaela would be... very hot and cold. Kaela, like Naja (and maybe Val), somehow lessens the fog clouding Ashyereh's mind. Being around Kaela helps Ashyereh feel, and that is heavily addicting to them. So when they spend time with Kaela, it would be very intense. Very probing. Very raw. Not quite unhinged but with a sort of energy which puts you on edge. And that intensity would carry over into the courtship. While Zaire checks in about every small thing, Ashyereh does not. Kaela will find new clothes in their wardrobe, so much jewelry that Kaela will need more than a singular chest to keep it all in. The rarest of fruits served to them for breakfast, the finest musician to compose songs for them. Showering Kaela in gifts. And then Kaela is left alone for days, weeks, because Ashyereh can't take the intensity of it all anymore.

Ultimately though... Pay attention to Ashyereh, Kaela. Look at them. You only need them. They're going to protect you. They will set the world on fire for you. Even if you don't ask them to. Because you are theirs to keep. Theirs to cherish. Their beloved panacea.

Post-intervention Ashyereh is not entirely different but their madness is muffled, muted. The intervention actually helped crack that mental block and afterwards, Ashyereh is left almost directionless. If Kaela wanted to actually have a romantic relationship with them after all that madness, Ashyereh would try very hard to not be as intense as before and take their cues from Kaela. Less senseless shopping sprees and more paying attention to what Kaela actually wants and needs. Kaela's wooden hairbrush broke and the silver one Ashyereh bought them pre-intervention actually has Kaela's hair snag in the gems? A wooden hairbrush it is. Kaela enjoying the work of an author very much? Ashyereh will silently sponsor the author so Kaela can keep enjoying their books.

Even post-intervention, Ashyereh wouldn't be soft. It's not in their nature anymore. But they would be happy if Kaela would allow them to hold their hands and rest their forehead against their shoulder. A delicate moment of vulnerability. They can't allowed themselves to be soft but perhaps Kaela can be soft for them both.

(And, of course, Kaela would have Ashyereh's ear in a lot of political matters. Their moral compass is still screwed and that's going to take years to fix. But they would strongly take their loves' words into consideration and, well, Kaela would find themselves with a LOT of political leverage and power.)

Brief NSFW headcanons for the Monarchs and Kaela:

Zaire:

-- Prepare to have your body worshipped, Kaela (within your comfort levels.) If you let Zaire, he's going to kiss and touch every single inch.

-- Outdoor sex or sex in alcoves, if Kaela is willing. Zaire will give Kaela oral until his tongue is numb and his knees are rubbed raw.

-- Nothing will turn this man on faster than knowing that Kaela is covered in hickeys. Wait, I lied, seeing a glimpse of a mark when the veil shifts will make him cover his face and count down from 100 so he doesn't get a poorly timed boner.

Ashyereh:

-- Needs to be on top most of the time but likes to hold Kaela's hands as they ride them/grind on them.

-- Into giving temperature play, especially with wax. Would probably require large amounts of trust from Kaela but Ashyereh would turn it into something very sensual and intimate.

-- Sex in the bathtub. Likely one of the few places where Ashyereh wouldn't mind leaning back against Kaela and allowing them to explore every inch of their body. If Kaela is into that, Ashyereh would definitely goad Kaela into fingering them. (One of the few times where Ashyereh gets really noisy. Congrats, Kaela, you have pressed the Horny button.)

I don't know if you are aware, but I am in so love with both Zaire and Ashyereh. They are almost opposites, incredibly well thought and so vivid. I could read about them all day.

Kaela wouldn't mind at all the coddling from Zaire. They haven't really been courted nor been shown significant attention, so this feels new and flustering and good. Upon realising Zaire is a touchy person, Kaela would offer more subtle touches, especially when Zaire needs it more.

And while Kaela is accustomed to adapting when their boundaries aren't asked or accounted for, it is still so very nice to be able to talk it through beforehand. They are a great communicator so they'd do well with such an attentive person as Zaire.

They will give Zaire a gift for each one they are given, for in their ming everything must be balanced and so they will do anything to match what Zaire gives them. They also like the idea of being of use, of providing in some way for the monarch, if Zaire will allow it. Especially by buying the best fabrics for clothes, by getting done some tasks at the palace, or by offering him foreign delicacies (Kaela grew up in another country with different customes).

Upon realising that what Zaire means with their care is to show them that they are held in the highest regard, Kaela would probably have a brain freeze and feel like they will need to prove themselves deserving of such attention, even if Zaire will offer it without a price. This is something deeply ingrained in Kaela, so Zaire will need patience and understanding with them, for they believe they have to deserve and give back what they are given.

As for Ashyereh, Kaela would be careful in stepping around them, confused by the love-bombing and by the silence that follows.

Kaela wants to be claimed. To belong. They will be content in being the monarch's consort for the rest of their life. They want a home and they want someone to look at them with the intensity Ashyereh possesses. But they will also feel discarded when they are left alone for days/weeks.

And they will feel so grateful but so overwhelmed by the exaggerated amount of gifts because how can they be able to give back what was given to them? Then it suddenly stops and Kaela will pretend nothing changed while also asking themselves if they did something wrong that displeased the monarch or if they are at fault. And they will try to be stronger and more useful to prove that they are worth it. That they are a worthy spouse, that the monarch didn't make a mistake in bringing them at the palace.

Post intervention, Kaela is more relaxed, more secure since Ashyereh's affection is more stable too. They will show their gratitude however they can, and they can be soft for the both of them. They can be a stable presence by their side, holding their hands after a long day, placing a kiss on their neck and forehead to show them that Kaela is exactly where they should be.

They are a politician at heart, so giving Kaela political power is like giving them lifeblood. Kaela will thrive.

NSFW

Once Kaela is made aware of the effect on Zaire of glimpses of marks he made on their skin, they will absolutely do it on purpose. What if they want to take care of that problem they caused? Even in public, Kaela knows how to be subtle and silent, they'll make Zaire tremble.

The temperature play is new and unexperienced, Kaela is actually not against it. In fact, they would ask to try it. Their skin is less sensitive so it might not be what Ashyereh expected? But they will enjoy it. A lot.

And the bathtub sex? One of the hottest things they have ever experienced. Having Ashyereh make such noises as they are being fingered is mind-shattering. They want to make their monarch feel so good and satisfied.

#vividescapist #i looked at this long ask with ashyereh and zaire and it was such a treat #ro: kaela

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

Text

Power Struggle - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re set up on a blind date with a man who might just be your match. (~5.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, blind date, exhibitionism, public sex

A/N: Part of @cherrytenko’s CEO collab! Surprisingly this is possibly the longest fic I’ve written as a oneshot and it’s a little softer than I expected it to be but please enjoy!

---

It’s about half past 6pm when you add the final touch to your makeup, a smear of matte lipstick (Rouge Hermes #48, to be exact), to your lips.

It’s not often that you’re able to leave work early but your mother and father had called you from overseas in the late afternoon, interrupting their own third honeymoon, to remind you of your final meeting for the day -

A date.

“I know you hate these things, but just go! You might like what you see,” your mother insisted over video chat, her voice muffled by the sound of wind whipping past her as she and your father cruised along on a shaky speedboat they’d purchased just for the day. You weren’t completely sure where they were, only vaguely aware that they were somewhere around Jeju Island, and not exactly sure why they still had phone service, but you weren’t going to ask too many questions.

“No obligation!” Your father adds, just out of view and yelling slightly.

Sure, never any obligations.

As you smack your lips in the mirror to smooth out the lip color, giving yourself a brief once-over to decide whether or not you feel the need to adjust your hair or if you will wear falsies or not, you frown ever so slightly, then let out a sigh.

You hate this.

This is the third “meeting” they’ve arranged for you this month, and they’d been at this for almost six months overall by now. This search for a ‘suitable husband’ was getting stale - not to mention, time-consuming - and you weren’t sure you would be willing to appease your parents any longer.

In fact, you weren’t exactly sure you were interested in a partner anymore. The clock would hit thirty any moment now, and the math of falling in love, getting married, having kids, and still heading a successful company no longer seemed to be adding up. You didn’t know how exactly to tell your sweet parents who were the picture of domestic bliss that they’d probably have to give up on the idea of grandchildren, and consider raising puppies instead.

Regardless, for the time being, you could still bother to meet this stranger for dinner.

There’s a clasp seal envelope atop your dresser - a portfolio that had been left on your desk by your father’s assistant at the beginning of the week - that still seems entirely too formal for the process. This is matchmaking, not a job application, was the first thought that came to mind once you realized the envelope held a set of photos, a resume and an admittedly curt but formally written statement reminiscent of a cover letter.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, the signature at the bottom of the letter read in an extremely neat script. He must be particularly organized and detail-oriented.

There were two pictures, one that looked almost like a passport photo and the other much more relaxed, where he was dressed casually in a t-shirt and pressed jeans, standing with his arms crossed beside a redheaded man whose smile was wide and infectious, his arm around his neck. You wondered if he picked those photos himself.

You’d perused the first photo much more carefully because you could see more of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’d admitted, the faintest warmth in your cheeks, but he seemed awfully uptight. For one, the look on his face was very neutral, not bothering to smile. He was clean shaven and his hair was close cropped at the edges, a woody brown that paired well with serious olive eyes. You wondered if he ever laughed out loud, and what he looked like when he did.

The taxi driver is prompt and waiting outside of the high-rise in which you live by the time you make your way down the elevator. The click of your heels is loud on the tile as you make your way past the revolving doors. As you slip into the back of the car, you wonder if you’re dressed too professionally. You may have forgone the women’s pantsuit, but you’re still wearing a feminine pantsuit-esque ensemble in a creamy beige - pink would have seemed too ditzy, white would have seemed a bit too innocent (not to mention risky) and yellow too juvenile.

You’re not sure why you’re thinking so hard about this, but really years of paying attention to your appearance in public, not being taken seriously because you’re pretty and young and your personality is more bubbly than bossy puts you on your guard, especially when it comes to first impressions.

The location appears to be an upscale sushi restaurant, the type that you have to call ahead for months to get a reservation unless you have some kind of special arrangement with the owner. A staff member checks you in and brings you to the back to a private room, and as you pass through the dimly lit hallway, clutching your purse a little too securely, a scene from a yakuza movie comes to mind.

“Your room, madam,” the young man nods and motions you to enter a room that is brightly lit enough that it is almost blinding, large and round as though you were in a fishbowl yourself. You look up and notice that even the ceiling is curved. Elaborate paintings hang off the wall.

He’s not here.

You glance at the attendant and he raises his eyebrows as though he is expecting you to say something. You must look surprised, and continue to look so as you remove your shoes to sit at one of the thin mattresses set before the low table.

You wish you’d worn stockings perhaps, tucking your bare feet beneath you in a casual seiza position. You can’t recall the last time you’ve been this traditional/formal, and the thought of a man you barely know already knowing what your feet look like bare bothers you just a bit.

The attendant pours water and then tea for two wordlessly and slips out of the room.

Your heart pounds once you’re finally alone. Why is this so intense?

You fidget nervously with the thin silver necklace you are wearing, looking for a menu. There is none so far. Just square plates, both chopsticks and forks (odd for sushi, you think), and a steaming cup of tea set right next to a sweltering crystal glass of ice cold water. Opposites.

For a fleeting moment, you actually wonder for once if this man will like you.

“My apologies, Ms. ___.”

You’re startled by a rich voice, a tiny gasp revealing that you’re more spooked than you realize, and your eyes shift towards the direction of the sound to see what looks like your date finally arriving in a hurry.

You instinctively readjust yourself onto your knees to look formal, then realize you should probably stand instead, but before you can get up he waves you to sit back down, now settling down himself across from you.

“I had intended to arrive early but quite a few things happened at the company to make that unfeasible.”

He said this while removing a suit jacket in a way that was in no way intended to be sexy, not at all, then let out what sounded like a single, semi-nervous chuckle.

Wordlessly, you replied with a nod, transfixed as you compared photography to reality. The photos didn’t do him justice, not at all. The suit jacket was picked up quickly by a waiter who you had forgotten was still in the room.

Ushijima extended an arm to you across the table, intending to shake your hand.

“Did you wait long?” He asks as you shakily take his hand for a handshake that consumes your hand almost entirely in his large one.

You shake your head, then embarrassed when you realize you aren’t using your voice, and add, “No, I didn’t wait long...”

“Are you hungry?” He replies, quickly. Your instinct is to say no, no you didn’t need anything, especially not from him, but you are pretty sure your stomach would growl loudly any minute now, and you’d only look like a fool.

Ushijima glances at the waiter, who finally hands the two of you menus.

“Please order anything you like.”

You look down, swallowing hard again, and for a moment it is difficult to focus on the unnecessarily elaborate handwriting on the menu.

Something about him already grates on your nerves and you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what. You could forgive people for being late, and you were used to people being a little forward, but something about the way he was both familiar and unfamiliar in the way he spoke to you seemed to veer into patronizing behavior.

Why wasn’t he nervous? Every man you’d sat across from in the past half a year had just a little waver in their voice when they spoke to you at some point, even those who had started off boasting their fancy degrees and their villas and their large bank accounts.

But he sits perfectly still, all broad shoulders, gently wafting cologne, and a gaze that is both disconcerting and impartial, so you don’t know what to think.

When you look up from the menu to him, his eyes are still heavily focused on you, and you can’t really fault him. There’s nothing else to look at in this room, after all.

You take this opportunity to tease him. No man has ever intimidated you before and this one is no different.

“Are you going to order anything? I barely saw you look at the menu.” Your voice is light and coquettish and it implies, all you’re doing is staring at me.

“I already know my order. I’ve been here enough times,” he replies, immune to the playfulness in your voice. You watch him roll up his sleeves as he answers, and take note of the shape of his hands as he takes a sip of tea.

Maybe you’re the one staring.

“Would you like a recommendation?” He offers as he sets the cup down.

You shake your head no, and wonder again why you’re making gestures instead of talking. He smiles as though he can read your mind.

Once the waiter takes your orders and leaves the room, you’re left in silence, facing your would-be partner. It’s a stalemate of sorts and you lose, asking the first personal question.

But you ask it semi-clinically, refusing to lose the upper hand. You’re not sure why there’s an upper hand, but there is, and it will be yours.

“I read a little about your company before arriving. You gave me quite a few details, which I appreciated,” you state, turning your head to the side politely to take a sip of tea yourself. “You’ve done very well for yourself as CEO,” you add.

His eyes don’t crinkle from the flattery. “My employees do great work at all levels so it’s only natural that there would be positive growth,” he replies matter-of-factly.

You smile politely, but this answer doesn’t give you very much information about him. He’s shifting the success away from him, you remark, however he accepts the compliment as though expected. Is this genuine humility or arrogance?

You lean very slightly forward, just enough to see if he’ll take the opportunity to glance down your blouse, as other suitors have invariably done. He doesn’t, and you proceed to ask the next question.

“What do you do outside of work?”

His eyebrows raise, and you wonder if it’s because he realizes you are pretending you didn’t read that section on his application, but he answers anyway.

“I don’t have very much free time, as you are probably aware, but I garden and paint. And of course, I like to keep fit through team sports.”

A quick look at him makes that last part quite clear. You clear your throat slightly and then it is silent again. It’s not exactly an uncomfortable silence, but it’s not comfortable either.

Just as you wonder why he isn’t asking you any questions, he suddenly speaks up.

“Pardon me if this sounds inappropriate, but you’re beautiful. Why would you need a matchmaking service?”

You’re taken aback, and while your brain is scrambling for understanding of what his intentions are, he adjusts his sitting position so that he’s cross-legged with both hands on his knees and lets out a sigh before continuing.

“You’re also accomplished and clearly articulate. I don’t imagine you’d have trouble finding a partner through more organic means.”

It seems like there are a million butterflies that suddenly inhabit the small space in the pit of your stomach. Again, you’re at a loss for words, something that is rare for someone as opinionated and cordially fierce as you.

Should you be offended? It’s almost as though he’s asking what’s wrong with you?

He asks frankly, “Why a blind date?”

You want to ask him the same question, but you hear the waiter return and you fall silent, letting the butterflies in your stomach die down.

---

“I-is this the first time - ah - you’ve done this?”

You’re no longer laid out on the tatami like you were just an hour earlier, Ushijima nibbling on your lower lip and your collarbones instead of the overpriced, high-quality fish that sat atop your table, but now laid under him, spread eagle save for the hands you use to hold on to his shoulders as he slowly and deliberately thrusts inside you.

Your voice is breathy and catches in your throat every time he moves, but you have to know. How often has he ended up like this?

The heat that fills your whole body now isn’t just from the shame of letting a stranger fondle your body in an upscale restaurant, it’s because Ushijima somehow knows exactly where and how to touch you, as though he’s always known. His fingers have traveled your body like a hiker on a well-beaten path, from the softness behind your earlobes to your squishy center and back, and now have settled into a hold that is firm yet gentle on your hips.

When he replies “no” with immense honesty, his mouth sinks into the crook of your neck and he goes just deep enough that you don’t have time to factor this new information into your impression of him.

So instead you savor the thickness that fills you and the strength that holds you close, the soft grunts that fill your ears before they get drowned out by your equally loud whimpers and moans.

---

You don’t spend the night, partially out of shame that Ushijima bedded you so quickly and partially because you have a full schedule for the next morning. The parting of ways is brief and awkward and you seem to feel it more acutely than he does.

“I enjoyed our time, Miss ___,” he offers. You’ve dressed up faster than he has so you find yourself unwittingly ogling at the expanse of his sculpted chest and the flex of his muscles as he redresses. You’re almost sad to see him cover up.

You nod and walk out of the room, trying your best to hide the fact that your legs feel far too wobbly to be walking on these heels.

---

“Miss ____?”

Your eyes widen as you realize you’ve been daydreaming through a meeting with the board of trustees and now the wrinkled old men who hated the fact that your father thrust you into leadership you “didn’t deserve” are staring at you with disgruntled expressions.

“Oh, um,” you think quickly, recalling where the presentation left off and glancing quickly at the notes you’d jotted down on a notepad before wondering why Ushijima hadn’t called or texted since you met two weeks ago.

“Um?” The most senior of the group repeats, and your stomach turns for a moment before you steel yourself. He bares his teeth every time he’s displeased with you and you get the impression of an ancient and disgruntled wolf.

You clear your throat loudly, and settle back in your chair, crossing your legs and your arms over your chest.

“I have some disagreements with the current approach, but I’ll start with the pertinent positives,” you start.

---

“Was the sex at least good?”

Your best friend from high school glances at you briefly, as you face forward on the Peloton you are riding side by side with her. She’s much less out of shape than you are given that she also is your personal trainer and thus rides hers effortlessly, taking some time to wait for you to respond.

You begrudgingly say yes.

“Wow, for once someone dropped you before you could drop them!” She teases in a sing-song voice. You would slap her on the shoulder if she was close enough and if you weren’t out of breath. It stings just a little bit that you’ve heard nothing from him nor the matchmaking company and don’t have a good response to tell your parents aside from I guess we didn’t click.

“He’s missing out, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you huff, and cycle faster. No hard feelings.

---

Scratch that, there were absolutely going to be hard feelings now that he was not just fucking with you but also with your livelihood.

Admittedly, it was strange that despite the fact that your companies had never crossed paths until now despite working in the same consumer domain but this was unacceptable.

You’d opened an email that had just slipped into your peripheral vision as you worked on reviewing a couple of interns’ executive summaries, only to find that Ushijima might have just royally fucked you over.

A curt email from a crucial business partner read,

We apologize but we’ve decided to move forward with Ushijima Industries instead. I understand that this is last minute, but we believe that it will be mutually beneficial to discontinue our relationship at this point in time.

Your blood boiled. What the fuck was this?

Your phone rang, one of your team leaders calling immediately and likely looking at the email at the same time you were. He apologized profusely.

“What happened?”

“It seems like they just showed up and offered twice as much as we offered them last minute.”

This bastard. Then in a moment of horror, you wondered if this was your fault, if you had blabbed a little while slightly tipsy off of sake, and revealed that you had this acquisition in the works.

Voice smaller now, you asked, “So we can’t do anything to woo them back?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just have to make sure our other deal doesn’t fall through,” the slightly frantic man answered, the sounds of keyboard keys clicking rapidly heard in the background of the call.

“Okay, thank you for your hard work,” you stated. “I’ll see what I can do,” you replied with a click.

Maybe calling someone who’d ghosted you as you drove home, fuming and irritated, wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to confront him somehow. The idea of being bested in more ways than one was too much to bear.

The phone rang once, twice, then three times, and you were getting angrier with every tone through the car speaker. You hung up in frustration.

How embarrassing.

You made it home still irritated, indulging yourself in a relaxing bath to quell your anger. By the time you had soaked for close to an hour, you were mad at yourself for reacting impulsively and now having your number in his phone as a missed call… if he recognized it anyway.

It turns out he did.

“Ms. ___, did you call me earlier? I wasn’t able to make it to the phone in time.”

His voice was even lower on the phone, a slightly gravelly quality making you wonder if he’d actually been napping or just had a smoke. You couldn’t imagine him doing either of these things.

“What kind of game are you playing, Mr. Ushijima?”

There was a bit of hesitation on the phone, and you let out a sardonic laugh once he replied, as expected, “What?”

“How did you know about that deal other than what I told you?”

He paused again, and you too, stood still, a towel wrapped around your still dripping body.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he then said, carefully. “I, uh… assume you were calling about something else.”

You grit your teeth. What the fuck else? The fact that he sounded genuinely confused only served to aggravate you further.

“Did you or did you not use the information I gave you to intercept my deal with MNY?”

Finally the lightbulb went on.

“Oh, that was you. Hm.”

If you’d been talking in person, you probably would have slapped him at this point. Or at least considered it.

“I didn’t know you were our competitor in that aspect. I… probably would have reconsidered if I had known.”

“Excuse me?”

That tone of over-familiarity, patronizing… the care when you’re not supposed to care was back and you realized you regretted this phone call.

“How would it be any different? Are you implying that you’d let me win?”

“No, of course not, I…” He trailed off. “Would you like to come over to my apartment and talk? I can give you my address, I would rather talk in person.”

Why? So I can get over there and end up fucking you again?

“I respectfully decline,” you answered curtly, and hung up, tossing your phone onto your bed and letting out an aggravated sigh.

---

The next morning, you leave an early executive meeting only to find that your office had been overrun with flowers between the hours of 7 to 8 am.

There are yellow roses, stating admiration, spilling out of an oversized bouquet on your desk and a separate bouquet of light red carnations and white camellias that imply that he finds you ‘adorable’. A white card is placed in the yellow bouquet, and on it is written Ushijima’s neat script - you realize it’s from him before you even finish reading the note.

I would like to see you again. Please accept my call around 6 pm.

Respectfully,

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Your hands hover over the wastebasket in your room with the flowers in your arms, but instead you sigh, and stuff them behind you on your shelf. At least you won’t have to see them while you work, but they’re pretty. They’re clearly bought from a floral shop, but you recall that he had said he gardened in his free time.

Ushijima calls promptly at 6 pm and you let it ring twice before deciding to block his number just as he’s calling. Something about the action is satisfying.

You can’t be won over with a couple of flowers and kind words. Women aren’t as easily swayed as he may think.

---

It’s another Friday, and surprisingly you haven’t been contacted for a blind date, whether it’s by your parents or the matchmaking service they’ve subscribed you to.

Maybe they’d gotten the message after you’d been ghosted that you were tired of this game. Maybe they were giving you a break. Maybe they’d run out of potential suitors. You were surprised, but not upset.

Ushijima had truly gotten under your skin.

After blocking his call, there were no more attempts at contact for the rest of the week. The only thing left to consider was that if you ever crossed paths in your careers, you would pay him back for snatching your investor.

And snatching your dignity in the process.

It was about 4 pm and most of the employees were wrapping up their tasks for the day. You usually aimed to have everyone out by 5, especially on Friday so this was boding well.

“Hey, Madam President, are you okay with an add-on?” You hear your secretary call from outside your door.

“Oh, I mean, I guess but-”

She’s already letting Ushijima through the door.

You smile sweetly, maintaining professional behavior as best you can, while your secretary leads him to an armchair across from you, up until she exits, your expression souring the moment she closes the door.

“Mr. Ushijima, what are you doing in my office?”

He’s settled into the chair so comfortably that it feels as though you’re in his office, not your own. He’s dressed more casually than he was at the restaurant, no suit jacket, just a brown V-neck sweater over a dress shirt that almost seems too tight and a pair of chinos. He’s also wearing a pair of glasses, which is new.

You hate that he looks good.

“Apologizing and requesting your company.”

He looks at you sincerely, his hands clasped together in his lap. You narrow your eyes.

“Please leave.”

He actually frowns, and the small action actually surprises you.

“Do you actually want me to leave or are you still upset about the investor? Because if it’s that, we can make an arrangement-”

“No, I’m upset because you did that after not following up after our one night stand!” You finally blurt out, then bite your lip realizing you might have said too much.

“I… got busy.”

“Busy screwing me over?” You quip.

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture.

“I didn’t call because I thought you didn’t like me.”

You’re a little stunned by this reply, then decide you don’t believe him. What was there not to like? At least at that point he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Why would you think that?”

His hands leave his hair again and rest on his knees. You notice it seems like a default position for him.

“I’ve been referred to as ‘stiff’. It’s great at work but not great for relationships.”

Ushijima’s brutal honesty is again sending you for a loop. You raise an eyebrow, bidding him to continue. Your arms uncross and you rest your elbows on the table.

“So…?”

“So usually by the time I’ve had sex with someone, it’s all they’re after. And since you didn’t call, I assumed even the sex wasn’t good.”

You unwittingly burst into laughter. Here was this successful, attractive man with a perfect pedigree who was insecure about how good he was in bed?

His eyebrows furrow, and you recollect yourself, realizing that this is a bit cruel.

“You could have sent a text,” you murmur.

“I’m bad at starting conversations.”

You stifle another laugh. “So you just don’t?” You tease. It’s gently mocking but mostly incredulous. It seems that he’s the opposite of the confident man he appears to be.

“That’s why I got excited when you called but then you were upset.”

You purse your lips.

“I promise I didn’t intend to put you in a bad situation,” Ushijima insists.

You sigh, then offer him a small smile. “Are you normally this persistent?”

He glances at the flowers that are only partially hidden from view, which makes your face warm up bashfully, and then looks right back at you.

“No. I just like you.”

Again with the directness, a confidence that is effortless, even when he’s not confident at all.

You don’t want to melt but you do. So instead you rise and clear your desk, stuffing a few items into your handbag as you prepare to leave. He watches, unsure of what you’re up to, sitting still as you walk around towards him and place your hand lightly on his shoulder.

Your body faces the door, but you turn to the side to look at him and grin.

“I’m done with work for today. Take me out.”

---

A couple months later...

“Fuck, you’re - ah - they’re gonna know, I-” Your voice morphs into a mewl instead once his ring finger reaches just the right spot; you’re squirming as much as possible under his touch but he has you laid back on your work desk with both ankles rested on his shoulders and his weight leaning onto you to essentially keep you in place.

“Move your hands,” Ushijima whispers in a hushed tone, leaning in to kiss between your breasts as he readjusts your legs atop him. His pants are down and his cock is already up and ready, the base and swollen balls rubbing against your wet cunt that you are desperately trying to protect from his intrusion. You know there’s absolutely no way you’ll stay quiet when he’s pounding the shit out of you, he likes it entirely too rough, and the walls are thin. You don’t listen, continuing to reach for his hands to swat them away from you.

There’s a part of you that is almost certain that at the very least your secretary knows that every time Ushijima comes for a ‘meeting’, it really is just to fuck the shit out of you before you leave together for the evening, or to relax you right before you once again have to defend your dad’s establishment of you as Company President.

This isn’t a good look.

“I-I can’t…” you whine.

“You can,” he assures you.

He gently kisses your face before prying your hands out of the way and keeping them pinned up against you with one hand and guiding his trajectory with the other before sinking inside of you. You moan at the breach of your privates and he quickly presses his lips to yours to swallow the sound.

Once he’s bottomed out, he rolls his hips, and soon you start to see white once you climax, clenching and cumming around him.

“T-Toshi!” You moan his name, and he clasps a large hand around your mouth before continuing, picking up the pace as he fucks you through your orgasm. He can’t deny that he likes the fact that you’re noisy, that the fact that the heavy desk he’s fucking you against is making a squeaky noise that suggests he’s really putting some force behind these strokes, and that if anyone could see the two of you now, it could be an issue for both of your corporations. Misconduct, they would call it.

He doesn’t care and while you act like you do, you don’t really care either.

When he lets go of your wrists to use the edge of the desk as leverage and tilts backwards, you scream in pleasure, a terribly obvious sound, and it’s enough to have him tip over and spill into you with a groan. He collapses onto you and the two of you almost slip onto the floor, but don’t; you wrap your arms around him.

Your hair is disheveled and so is his, and your legs are sticky with sweat and cum. You sigh, letting him soften inside you and stroke his hair.

“You’re getting me in trouble,” you murmur, and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“We don’t really have to answer to anyone, do we?” He replies with a smirk, and pecks you one more time on the lips.

He’s right - only you two are a match for each other.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ceo!ushijima x reader #ceo collab #ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima smut #haikyuu smut #not sfw #fic: power struggle #mae.writing #hqintheclub

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valdomarx · 4 years ago

Text

A Marriage of Convenience

Octoberfest romcom tropes day 1: fake dating

Jaskier pushed his ale aside and broke the wax seal on the letter. As he read the contents, his face pinched into a frown.

“Anything important?” Geralt asked, glancing up from his soup.

Jaskier chewed his lower lip. “Not really. It’s from my family.” He took a breath. “They’re going to disinherit me.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Nothing, thank you very much! But it’s my 35th birthday next month, and the stipulations of the Lettenhove family will are quite clear. If the oldest son isn’t married by the age of 35, inheritance passes to the next married cousin.”

“Very keen on weddings in Lettenhove, are they?”

“Rather less keen on unmarried bachelors, actually.”

Geralt grunted. “That’s too bad. I imagine a viscount’s fortune could have come in handy for you.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the money.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just,” he sighed. “I have younger sisters who rely on me for support. If the inheritance goes to cousin Edward, he’ll turn them out without a penny to their names.”

“That’s unkind.”

“It is.” Jaskier slumped. He was glad to have left Lettenhove and its court intrigues behind, but the thought of his sisters being at the mercy of his greedy cousin was unconscionable. He knew too well all the terrible things that could befall a woman alone in the world.

“This will,” Geralt said, stirring his soup absentmindedly, “does it have any rules about who you have to marry?”

“No. Any old wedding will do. But it’s not like I’m going to find anyone willing to tie themselves to me in the next month.”

Geralt shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”

Jaskier choked on his ale. “You?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he broke off and mopped the sweat from his brow. Because I’ve been in love with you for decades. Because I’ve fantasised about you saying this in a million different ways. Because having to pretend it’s real is going to break my heart.

Geralt reached over the table and patted his hand. “It’ll just be pretend,” he said, as if that were in any way reassuring. “This is a problem easily solved. Let me help you.”

Jaskier sagged. This was going to be a disaster.

“This is going to be a disaster!” Jaskier paced anxiously around their room. “There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

Geralt sat on the bed counting bundles of herbs. “It’ll be fine.” He was infuriatingly calm. “We’ll head to Lettenhove, have a quick wedding, get your family off your back, and be on our way. It’ll only take a few days.”

“But,” Jaskier kept pacing. “We’ll have to. You know. We’ll have to do couple things. There are certain… expectations of a newly married pair.”

Geralt got to his feet and placed his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, stopping his anxious traipsing. “We’ll manage. Can’t be any worse than fighting drowners.”

Jaskier looked into amber eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. “Everyone will expect us to be holding hands, and kissing, and gods know what else. And you can’t do that.” He sighed. “You don’t even like men.”

Geralt leaned in closer, close enough that strands of his silver hair tickled Jaskier’s cheek. “I like men just fine,” he said, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then Jaskier did something terribly foolish. His body moved before his mind, his feet stepping closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s neck. He kissed him, hard, and to his astonishment Geralt kissed him back hungrily, lips parting to allow Jaskier to taste him fully, tongue exploring, hands roaming, and by the time they broke apart Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard.

“See?” Geralt said, his deep voice sending a shiver up his spine. “We can do this.”

Jaskier wrote to his family to tell them the good news, and he and Geralt wasted no time in heading off to Lettenhove. The journey was long but nothing they were unused to. They traveled by day, slept under the stars by night, and Geralt even picked up a few quick contracts to help pay their way.

It was comfortable, and normal, and Jaskier could almost forget about what he was about to put himself through.

At least, until they reached the outskirts of Lettenhove and they heard the whoosh of an incoming portal. The ground shook, the air rippled, and through the rent in reality stepped Yennefer, terrifying and beautiful as ever.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Jaskier couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a snarky reply as she swept past him and went to Geralt. He stood back and watched the two of them, powerful and dazzling together, each other’s equals in capability and composure.

He had never had a chance in this competition, he thought bitterly. He would be pretending with Geralt, while she had his heart for real.

Jaskier was left at camp while Geralt and Yennefer went off to do... whatever it was they did together. (He could guess what that was.) He spent a cold, lonely night with no one but Roach for company, berating himself for feeling so hurt by something he knew from the beginning was nothing but a ruse.

With their arrival in Lettenhove proper, there was nothing to do but face his family. The brightest spot of his day was walking into the estate and having his sisters squeal and jump on him just as they had done as children.

He stopped laughing and caught his breath long enough to introduce them. “Essi and Priscilla, this is Geralt.” My husband to be, he thought, and something twisted inside him at that. “Geralt, these are my troublesome sisters.”

Essi dipped her head and Priscilla performed a theatrical bow. “We were wondering if Jaskier would ever settle down,” Essi said with a sly smile.

“But seeing how handsome you are, I can’t blame him!” Priscilla replied, and the two of them broke into fits of giggles.

Geralt, for his part, took them with good humour. Where Jaskier had been expecting him to be dour, he smiled indulgently and took each of their hands in turn and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, resulting in another uproar of giggling.

“Thank you for that,” Jaskier said quietly as they made their way to the room waiting for them.

Geralt inclined his head. “Have to make a good impression on the future in-laws,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking upward in amusement.

The rest of his family were predictable as clockwork. Cousin Edward was sour, his father was distant, and his mother was simply relieved to see him married off as was proper. Geralt sat through all of it with more patience and good grace than Jaskier would have thought him capable of.

The day of the wedding itself passed in a blur. With such short notice the ceremony was terribly paired down by noble standards, but still, there was the formal breakfast, the dressing in formal garments, the journey to the temple outside of the city, the clamour of priestesses and officials and his family, the exchanging of rings, the reading of texts, and of course the formal dinner.

Jaskier barely remembered any of it. Looking back, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was the feeling of Geralt’s hand clasping his own during the handfasting. And the way that, whenever he was feeling overwhelmed over the course of the day, Geralt’s hand would find his own and give a comforting squeeze.

Finally the ceremonies were complete and they were left in peace in their chambers, the two of them alone for the first time all day. Geralt’s hair had been braided into two slim plaits running either side of his face, though by now they were starting to become mussed. He’d even put on a shirt of dark blue silk as opposed to his standard uniform of all black. The effect was quite stunning.

As the door closed, Jaskier’s shoulders slumped and he breathed for what felt like the first time in hours.

Geralt cupped one cheek tenderly. “You good?”

Jaskier exhaled, letting the anxiety and stress of the day slowly unwind. He looked into Geralt’s warm eyes and felt, for once, safe and unjudged. “I’m good.”

Geralt brought their lips together, soft as could be, and Jaskier’s knees shook. He grabbed Geralt’s forearms to hold himself upright and, desperate for some sort of control, some sort of meaning, he pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

This was a bad idea, he was aware, but Geralt felt so good in his arms. He ran his hands through silky silver hair like he’d always wanted to, he pressed himself close to that muscled chest he’d spent more time than he should have admiring, and he moaned unrestrainedly when Geralt picked him up, locking his legs around his waist.

This was a terrible idea, he knew, but Geralt carried him over to the bed with firm, confident steps, and the temptation to touch, to hold, to kiss was overwhelming. This would only lead to heartache, but he was weak in the face of love, as always.

Geralt laid him out and took him apart with soft lips and careful fingers and a wicked tongue, and it was everything he’d been dreaming of for years, and yet so much more intense than anything he could have imagined. Geralt was dazzling beneath him, warm amber eyes and pale scarred flesh, beautiful and kind and more than he could possibly deserve.

Nuptial celebrations in Lettenhove were mercifully brief, and with the ceremony completed and recorded to the satisfaction of the genealogists, they were free to depart.

There were, however, some customs which could not be avoided.

“You’ll be honeymooning nearby?” Jaskier’s mother asked, with the understanding that this was not a question.

“Actually, we thought -”

“They’ll be staying in my cottage, won’t you?” Priscilla interjected. She’d availed herself of her position, such as it was, to secure a tiny ramshackle cottage on the Kerack coast. It wasn’t opulent but it was, thankfully, far from prying eyes.

Jaskier gave her a tiny nod of thanks and she winked.

“A cottage?” His mother’s lip turned up in distaste. “How quaint.”

“And there’s ever so much to pack, so we must be on our way -” he excused himself with a bow, tugging Geralt behind him.

Out of the view of their parents, Priscilla and Essi set upon him with hugs and kisses, thanked him for saving them from the horrors of cousin Edward, and packed up an obscene quantity of cheeses and wine to take with them.

By the time they departed the estate, Jaskier was even smiling.

It was quiet and calm on the coast. The cottage overlooked the sea, rolling and tempestuous, and had just enough space for a kitchen, a bed, and a bath. They had everything they needed, even a stable for Roach outside.

Even though it was only for a few days, Jaskier imagined Geralt would be bored and unhappy, feeling trapped in a place so small. But he seemed content: riding along the coastline in the morning, brushing Roach out, going fishing in the afternoon, preparing the catch for their evening meal.

Jaskier showed him his favourite spices and how to prepare the fish with butter to make it rich and indulgent, and in the quiet moments he wrote poetry or simply sat on the battered chair on the porch of the cottage and watched the waves.

Geralt returned to the cottage with a net bulging with fish and a smile on his face. He’d been doing that more recently, Jaskier had noticed, smiling in a way that seemed natural and unforced. He even left his armour and swords in the cottage and waded down to the sea in just his trousers and shirtsleeves, disarmingly casual.

It was comfortable, almost domestic.

And it was a torment, showing Jaskier a tiny glimpse of a life he’d never have.

Their last night on the coast, Geralt cooked the remainder of their provisions into a feast, poured the best wine they had, and set a fire in the hearth. He piled up blankets and pillows, laid down their warmest furs, and pulled Jaskier into his arms in front of the flames.

“Thank you,” he said, dotting kisses in a line up Jaskier’s neck, “for taking such good care of me.”

Jaskier fidgeted unhappily. “You’re the one doing me a favour,” he reminded him. That seemed important to remember. This was a favour from a friend, nothing more.

Geralt hummed against his neck, the vibrations rippling against his skin. “I can see some advantages to me,” he murmured, continuing his line of kisses up Jaskier’s jaw and toward his lips.

Jaskier, stupidly, allowed Geralt to turn him around, hands delicate around his waist, allowed him to bring their lips together. He allowed a kiss, soft at first, and then another, more intense, moaning into Geralt’s mouth.

“Can I interest you in an early night?” Geralt purred in his ear, and everything in Jaskier’s body said yes, and everything in his mind said no.

Eventually, his mind won out and he pushed Geralt away.

“No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Geralt, but this was a terrible mistake.”

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Geralt’s sad expression. He was hit by the urge to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was so soft behind him. “It’s okay, Jaskier. Whatever it is. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

Jaskier deflated. He turned to face Geralt, watery eyes and all. “That’s not the problem. I don’t want you to stop. I want this to be real.”

Geralt stood carefully still. “What do you mean, real?”

Jaskier took a breath, tried to imagine how to explain himself, how to convey what he felt. “I’m in love with you!” he snapped in the end. Not his most eloquent work, but perhaps his most honest.

Geralt tilted his head. “I know,” he said. He looked down at the ring on his finger. “Isn’t that the point?”

“The point?” Jaskier exploded. “The point!” He couldn’t stop himself from waving his arms as he ranted. “Oh, sure, I’m certain that the ideal marriage is between one person who’s hopelessly in love and one person who’s indifferent and besotted with another. I’m sure Yennefer will be delighted when she hears about this whole situation.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in love with Yennefer?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

He paused, obviously weighing his words. “That night when she visited us outside Lettenhove, she wasn’t surprised by the news. She told me congratulations, and that it had taken long enough. I think she knew long before I did that I wasn’t in love with her, not really. My heart already belonged to another.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean… You and her, you’re not...”

Geralt shook his head. “What she most wants is something I can’t give her.”

“And you?” Jaskier asked, dreading the answer.

Geralt took his hand. “What I most want,” he stroked his thumb over the ring around Jaskier’s finger, “is something I already have.”

Jaskier’s heart leapt. It was almost too much. It was overwhelming. “You really love me?”

Geralt smiled softly. “I really do.”

Jaskier threw himself into Geralt’s lap, arms around his neck, foreheads pressed together. “Tell me again,” he said, because he was needy.

“I love you,” Geralt said, kissing down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together against the furs. “I love you,” he said, their bodies moving together, finally free to feel with the intensity they had been hiding for so long, their scents mingling together with the fresh salt tang of the sea.

The sun shone brightly and the wind whipped their hair as they packed up Roach the next morning. Jaskier paused to admire the view one last time: The rolling waves, the steep cliffs, the shingled beach.

Geralt slipped his arms around his waist from behind and dropped a kiss just beneath his ear.

“What does our life look like now?” Jaskier asked, eyes on the waves.

He felt Geralt’s smile against his hair. “Much the same as before,” he said. “With perhaps a few improvements.”

Jaskier turned then and kissed him fully, no need to hold himself back, taking Geralt’s hand and running his fingers over the ring there.

“Ready to head back to the Path?”

Geralt smiled, and Jaskier would never tire of that. “Ready if you are,” he said with softness in his eyes, “husband.”

#this just in: i am secretly soft #squeezing this in before midnight #geraskier #lesdemonium #thank you for the prompt inspo!!#octoberfest #the witcher #my writing

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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Handcuffs

┌───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.7k

[ ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!), ☀︎ ] smut

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : switch!shouto, power play, bondage (cuffs), temperature play + food play, teasing, 69, begging, praise, baby/master dynamics, squirting, and a little aftercare <3

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : The only time you can tame your pro hero boyfriend is when he’s bound beneath you in pink, fluffy, quirk-cancelling cuffs.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : sooo u guys always are requesting sub sho, and i finally delivered hehe. this is my first time participating in a Sewer collab, ty to the mods who have been so sweet & welcoming to me even tho i’m shy and don’t talk too much 🤍 also i’m so sorry this is late, my bf decided to take me on a surprise vday trip!

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i actually think white chocolate is the inferior chocolate but i wanted it to look like cummies bc that’s hot soo… yeah this is the only acceptable situation to eat such an abomination imo ☺️

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─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the ravioli you ordered, nor the appetizer that preceded and the dessert that followed. If anything, each dish was divine in its own respect— as they should be, coming from perhaps the most exclusive, romantic restaurant in the city. Especially on an occasion like today. But the thing was, you didn’t harbor much of an appetite for such luxuries. Not when your boyfriend was casting heart eyes directly at you all night, not even batting an absurdly long eyelash at the longing gazes of the other restaurant-goers.

You were hungry, alright. Just… for something else.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The leather of his loafers had been slowly rubbing against the exposed top of your foot throughout the meal, your heels not offering you much protection from his affectionate game of footsie. He had the nerve to reach across the linen tablecloth and lace your fingers with his, playing with them as he leaned in and allowed the flickering candlelight to wash his face with a romantic, warm glow. Ever the gentleman, he had offered you a spoonful of his risotto, and when you had returned the outstretched offering of your own meal, he locked eyes with you and allowed his tongue to wander out to caress the cutlery before he closed his lips around the silver, two-toned eyes glinting dangerously. You were sure your cheeks turned a temperature high enough to achieve the perfect sear of the wagyu on his plate.

It was criminal for him to be acting like this. To be giving you his undivided attention, to be looking at you as if you had hung the moon and all the stars. As if you were the moon and all the stars.

And for him to have shown up in such a devilishly handsome ensemble— a dark, charcoal suit with a crisp dress shirt, rolled up so that the lean muscle of his forearms was exposed to your ravenous eyes. The muted turquoise tie around his neck only made his left eye jump out at you, something he damn well knew you were defenseless against.

But it was that smirk that really got you going. That satisfied little curl to his perfect, pink lips. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was going to be inside you in just a matter of time, however long it took for the pair of you to finish eating and get back to his apartment. And he thought he was going to ravish you as usual— and there was nothing wrong with that, really— you loved when he had his way with you. However, that wasn’t what was going to happen tonight. Tonight, he was yours, and he was going to be completely at your mercy.

So you let him have his fun at dinner. You let him fluster you and play with you, let him think he surely had the upper hand.

Because it would be that much more fun for you when he finally realized what he was in for…

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

You sat on the edge of the cloth sectional, upright and on guard as you awaited Shouto to return from the bathroom. Half of you had expected to be pressed against the wall the second you entered the premises, smothered in a passionate kiss and his hands messing up your styled hair. Instead, he’d taken the time to pour you a drink and freshen up from dinner, promising to return in a moment before he disappeared down the hallway. Little did he know, he had given you the perfect opportunity to hide your surprise underneath one of the couch cushions— the fuzzy, pink pair of handcuffs completely concealed underneath one of the many pillows that littered the area.

The music from the sound bar across the room was low and pleasant, the melody soothing to your frayed nerves. Your fingers played with the tassels on the corner of the pillow behind you, busying yourself as you allowed another gulp of wine to coast down your throat. This would be your first time… taking charge, so to speak, in your relationship with Shouto.

The dynamic between you was equal back and forth in all other aspects except for your sexual relationship— although sometimes he managed to sneakily pay for more of your dates than you liked to admit. You were still getting your footing as a couple, still in that unbelievable, all-consuming honeymoon phase where the pair of you were so obsessed with each other that your heart felt like bursting whenever his lips pressed against yours. So, taking this step— leap, rather— was quite a bold move.

Shouto returned from down the hallway, a gentle smile turning the corner of his lips upright. You could smell the cologne that wafted off of him as he moved to sit beside you on the couch, his arm naturally reaching out to lay behind your shoulders, allowing his warmth to spread and seep into your side.

“Would you like to watch something, love?” he inquired.

It was unfair of him to look that good while he was just asking you a simple question.

You fake-pondered the suggestion for a minute, entertaining him as the lust in his gaze only increased by the second. “Hmm… not really,” you replied honestly. “I kind of had something else in mind.”

He mirrored you as you tipped back the rest of your glass, setting the thin-stemmed crystal to the side. “Oh?”

His voice had dropped an octave, his eyelids drooping as you watched the salacious intent sharpen within his brilliant irises. It was almost too much, being the target of his desire— it made you forget for a moment that you were the one taking charge tonight. Only for a second, though.

“Yeah,” you whispered in the most wanton tone you could muster. You scooted closer to him, pressing up against his side fully, and placing your hand on his far shoulder. That took him by surprise, if the flicker of the emotion across his features was any indication. It was gone as soon as it came, but that was fine— you were just getting started, after all.

Shouto’s eyes met yours as your hand trailed up to cup his jaw, your heavy gazes locking just before your lips captured his. He was still for a moment, savoring the feel of your lips on his before he pulled you closer to him, his arm wrapping tight around the small of your back. It wasn’t long before the innocence of your initiation melted off, and his tongue greeted yours as you parted your lips for him. He tasted like the confection you had split for dessert, mixed with the tang from the wine you’d both just downed. His sweet tongue was a welcome flavor, brushing against yours as his hand moved to caress the back of your head. Time seemed to warp as you drowned each other in kisses, and you found yourself almost losing track of your plans once again. But you forced yourself to remain conscious of the situation— managing to take off his shirt and tie, revealing his sculpted torso to you.

Knowing that Shouto was just as consumed with the kiss as you were, you took the opportunity to sneak the handcuffs from underneath the cushion, balancing them on the top of the sofa skillfully. He sighed as you let your fingers slide through his silky locks, his breath hot on your slick mouth before his lips covered yours once again. Then, you trailed your nails down his forearms, grasp tightening around his wrists and pressing them up beside his head. You peeked at him through low-lidded eyes, reassured when you saw his eyes were shut and brow scrunched— seeming to enjoy your little power play, completely oblivious. A thrill struck through you as you swiftly transferred his wrists to the awaiting fluffy cuffs, the telltale click too fast for him to realize what was happening, for both his hands were secured in the device in under a second.

Shouto stiffened, his body jerking as he tried to move his hands to your sides. His eyes snapped open, looking to you in confusion before he glanced at his wrists, the pure shock blooming on his face, plain as day. You moved in to kiss the soft skin on his throat, taking the chance his surprise gave you as the wheels began to turn once again in his brain. Once he seemed to recuperate, his jaw hung open as he tried to find the right words— any words, really. But your lips on his neck only slowed him further, your hands slipping up to rub at his chest while you continued your ministrations. He tried to say your name in admonishment, but you crawled onto his lap at that exact moment, and it turned out sounding more like a moan instead.

“What… what is this, love?” He finally managed to ask, his voice deliciously low and gravely, rumbling against your front as you shamelessly pressed your body against his. He tipped his head back as you sucked at the skin beneath his jaw, holding in another moan while he inspected the cuffs further. “Where did you manage to get these?”

He was, of course, referring to the restraints around his wrists. He was right to question it— the cuffs around his wrists were the very same ones he saw on the daily, thanks to his profession. They were of professional grade— high caliber, quirk-canceling cuffs— identical to the pair that laid in the pack of his hero suit in his bedroom closet. He tried to activate his ice just a little, but wasn’t surprised to find his powers did not answer his request.

You stirred your hips around his lap, causing his attention to return to you instantly. His gaze grew more desirous as he inspected you, your insides fluttering with a quiet relief that he seemed into the whole charade. “I have my ways~” you replied vaguely. There was no way in hell you were going to bring up how you had to beg your friend Bakugou for months on end to get your hands on a pair of these babies. You could tell him that later, when your sexy-time was over. Instead, you kissed him again, brushing his corded neck with your thumbs on either side, cradling his face the way you knew he loved so dearly.

Shouto dropped it immediately, not wanting to push it when you were grinding on top of his lap, taking the reins and smothering him with your soft, sweet lips. “They’re pink,” he managed to observe, his breath getting choppy as you stole all of it away.

It was true, the cuffs boasted a fuzzy, pink material around the insides so that the restraints wouldn’t be so harsh against his pretty skin. The color looked simply divine on him, a perfect mix between the two shades of his hair. You had hot-glued the plush cloth to the cuffs the other day, and while it seemed like a ratchet method, it was the only way you could get the damn things to stick.

“They are pink,” you confirmed, brushing your lips against his ear, your teeth gently scraping on the outer shell. “You wanna know what else is pink?”

His hips bucked and his strong thigh pressed against your core through your clothes, pleasure shooting through you at the sudden stimulation. He answered without hesitation, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

You smiled at his honesty, confidence leaking into your veins from his agile reply. “Ask me nicely, and I’ll consider showing you.”

His eyes rolled back as you pressed down harder onto his lap, his slacks now forming a rather tight looking tent at the front, which you took full advantage of rubbing yourself against. “Please show me, Y/n. Show me what else is pink baby, please, I want to see…”

There was no way you weren’t going to oblige after that, so you smirked to yourself and got off his lap, moving to stand before him. Shouto scooted forward slightly, his legs spreading to showcase the length trapped between them as his eyes burned into yours. You took your time fiddling with the back of your dress, sliding the zipper down and then carefully slipping the garment off your shoulders and down your hips.

“Fuck.”

And there went the eloquence he was so renowned for.

Shouto’s tongue wandered across the bottom of his teeth as his eyes flicked up and down your body, taking in how the pink lingerie clung to every dip and curve on your body. The pure lust on his face made another wave of confidence surge through you, and you turned as you stepped out of the dress, making sure to shake your ass for him a little as you bent over.

“Get over here and take these off.”

You looked back at him, a mix of amused and aroused at his sudden change of inflection. He didn’t sound all that complacent now, his voice deep and demanding— the one that you were accustomed to whispering nasty things into your ear while he rearranged your guts.

“I don’t think so, baby.”

His brow rose the quickest you’d ever seen, the surprise evident on his face yet again. “Excuse me?” he balked.

You stood upright and turned to face him, unapologetic and unafraid as you stalked closer to his sitting form. Spreading your legs so that you were straddling him, you leaned into him, your face was right in front of his as you whispered, “I said, I don’t think so, baby.”

If he tried to stop the shiver that coursed through his body, it didn’t work. His eyes closed and he inhaled sharply as you rubbed yourself against his lap, your cunt dampening the lace that separated your core from his slacks. Your hands crawled down his torso, taking your time to knead the taut muscles that lined his front. When you reached the top of his slacks, you smirked and thumbed over the well-kept trail of red and white that disappeared underneath. You helped him maneuver so that he was rid of the luxurious clothing, leaving him only in a pair of boxer briefs that looked rather tight at the moment. His cock was visible through the dark material, a long and thick temptation to stray from your agenda.

“One sec,” you nearly giggled as you ran over to the kitchen, taking the bowl you had prepared when he was in the bedroom earlier from the microwave.

Shouto watched you from the couch, still trying to devise a plan to get out of his restraints and take his revenge on you. But that all slipped away the moment you returned and stooped to your knees in between his legs, and he could see what the contents of the bowl in your hands was, exactly. It looked like… milk?

As if you could read his mind, you drizzled some of the melted liquid off the spoon and onto your finger, offering him a taste. Like he had done in the restaurant, he made sure to keep your gaze as his tongue curled around your finger, lips closing and sucking the food in question off. His eyes lit up at the distinct sweetness, his mouth following your digit slightly as you pulled it back.

White chocolate.

You laughed to yourself, happy that he seemed interested— his cock jerking against his thigh when you took a spoonful and began to drizzle it over his chest. It was hot, the chocolate molten so that you had to trace over the lines you made swiftly with your tongue, ensuring it didn’t harden and stick to his skin.

Shouto started moaning as you licked up and down his body, watching as your pink muscle trailed around his body, all the while avoiding the one area he really wanted you to pay attention to. A dark spot had started to form at the tip of his cock, and he was painfully hard.

You suckled at one of his nipples, a spot which you knew he was especially sensitive to. He groaned as his head fell back against the cushions, rutting up against you with measured precision. It was hot having him under your complete control, having him squirm and moan beneath you, desperate for your touch. You were sure your panties were drenched by now, there was no way you weren’t with the way he was looking up at you.

Finally you moved your attention to his thighs, his ass moving off the couch instantly as your fingers curled into his underwear, dragging them down his legs and depositing them onto the floor. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock, looking full and beckoning. The fucsia tip was engorged and shining with precum, evidence of his arousal that glistened in the low lighting and left a thin path down the length of him. The cool air of the room must have felt intense for him, for his length reached forward on its own, begging for your touch.

Shouto said your name lowly, gravel in his voice as he watched you eye his cock. He damn well knew that you were thinking about how good it would feel to just slip your panties to the side and press him inside of you, how amazing it would be to have him stretching your cunt with his cock. He was sure that he would slip right in, too— he didn’t have any doubt that you were wet from teasing him like this.

You kept his gaze as you spooned around the outline of his flushed member, from one thigh to the other, along the bottom of his abs and over his prominent V. The fire in his eyes only ignited further as he watched your tongue move across his skin, the white liquid pooling against the muscle and gathering in your mouth. His cock strained as it tried to reach for you, wanting for you to milk its own white liquid from it instead of the melted chocolate. Then, you were climbing onto his lap again, offering the melted candy to him while you gripped his shoulders.

His tongue met yours with enthusiasm, sweeping off the chocolate and collecting it into his mouth. You moaned as he eagerly took the liquid from you, taking his time afterwards so that his tongue mingled with yours, enrapturing you in another kiss. Once again his hips jerked up against you, his cock dragging across your clit through your lingerie. You tried to scowl at him, but it felt too good and you ended up letting out a soft mewl instead.

Shouto looked pleased as the noise slithered out of you, his arms straining to reach for you but the cuffs stopping him from doing so. He growled at the restraints, the short chain clinking as he fought against it futilely. “Y/n, please,” he huffed, irritated. “Just take these off and I’ll reward you.”

Shaking your head, you gyrated across his lap again, eliciting a groan from him. “What if I just take the reward for myself?” you purred, getting up and pushing him down to lay back onto the couch.

He was about to object when you slipped your panties down your thighs. Voice caught in his throat, he watched a strand of slick stretch between them and your cunt before he shut his mouth and leaned back, complacent. He seemed to understand what you wanted, keeping his arms still above his head as you slipped your legs between them, then planting your knees beside his neck. He clicked his tongue at your demand, but he didn’t wait long before he split your folds with it instead.

You could feel him smirk against your cunt when you moaned, the direct stimulation strong enough to make your toes curl already. The position allowed him to cup your ass with his hands, fingers digging into your plush flesh as he moved the skilled muscle to trace along your clit. He switched between kissing the bundle of nerves and sucking on it, savoring the way your legs began to shake on either side of his head.

All the while, you busied yourself with kissing down his chest, slowly getting closer and closer to his cock that was leaking onto his toned stomach. You didn’t bother with the chocolate any more, and you didn’t care to tease him either— you wrapped your hand around him and took the head into your mouth, moaning as your lips pulled tight around him.

“God— so good, baby” Shouto gasped, throbbing in your hand as his fingernails dented the skin on your ass. He moaned into your pussy, pushing his tongue inside your entrance and moving it feverishly against your velvet walls. His hips drove up and you gagged around his cock, which only made him pull your body tighter against his face, working harder against your cunt. The pre helped him slide into your throat easier, your spit beginning to drip down his length as you struggled to pace yourself, head bobbing as best you could.

He continued to slurp at your entrance vigorously, even with the restraints making it hard for him to hold onto you. You could feel his smooth hair tickling the insides of your thighs as your hips swung back and forth over his mouth, your fingers cutting shallow grooves into his thighs as you slid his length along your tongue.

“Fuck, just like that,” you paused, saliva shining on your lips as you glanced down at Shouto, his tongue rubbing at your clit with steady licks. You took a moment to enjoy the view, his chiseled jaw protruding as he ravaged your sex, having abandoned any defiance he previously harbored. You luxuriated in another minute of his sensual efforts before you moved your hips back, carefully taking your legs out from between his arms and moving so that Shouto was sat upright, and you were hovering over his lap again.

A silvery sheen covered the bottom half of Shouto’s face, his eyes blazing into yours as he wiped his chin with the back of his cuffed hand, then licking his lips. Even if you were the one in charge here, he knew how to rile you up, and he certainly knew how to deliver as well. You just didn’t expect for him to try to fluster you.

“Did that feel good, Master?”

You sputtered at the sudden title, eyes wide and body still while you lingered above his lap, his hard cock grazing your slick thighs. Your mouth hung open as you tried to formulate words, the shock evident on your face. “I—”

Shouto seemed charmed by your lack of response, your brain still buffering as you tried to process what he had just called you. He raised his cuffs over his head, settling into the couch while he thought he had managed to snag the upper hand from you.

Like hell you were going to pass him the reins.

“That felt so good, baby,” you purred, enjoying the shock that suddenly appeared in his vibrant irises. You dragged your hand down his chest, fingertips bumping over one of his rose-colored nipples. “You’re such a good boy for me.”

His cock smacked against your thigh, your eyes glinting down at him as his body betrayed him in his fleeting attempt to hide his response to your praise. Suddenly the mischievous look in his gaze had dissipated, melting into longing instead. He seemed confused by the sudden change of emotion, but you didn’t give him long to contemplate it— you lightly drew your nails down his abdomen and grasped his cock, a startled noise sounding from his throat. Tracing the swollen head against your slit, you doused him with your arousal, teasing the pair of you as you dipped the tip just barely inside before rearing back. You half expected him to thrust up and sheathe himself inside of you, but he only laid there beneath you, watching your core glide against his length in assent. His legs twitched with the urge to feel your silky cunt around him, but he remained still, athletic thighs strained while his hips wiggled just barely. His eyes widened as you turned around, presenting your bare ass to his gaze and allowing your cunt to part, dragging it along the vein on the underside of his erection.

“Aha—” he sucked a breath in through his grating teeth, brow furrowed and gaze focused on where your bodies connected on his lap. “Please Y/n…”

You looked over your shoulder at him, catching how his pupils were dark and full of lust. There was nothing you wanted more than to stuff him inside you already, but you had to hear him utter it one more time before you allowed the both of you to sink into pleasure. “Please, what, Shouto?”

His gaze lifted from his lap to meet your eyes, full of desire. He whispered, this time much more shameful than the last, “Please sit on my cock… Master.”

You smirked, straightening your hips over his, arching your back, and sinking down onto his awaiting length. Impaling yourself with his cock always hurt at first, the girth of him stretching your sopping core like nothing else— no one else— could. It was impossible to stop yourself from crying out, agreement coming from Shouto in prefect harmony. The cuffs clinked as his hands flew down to grab your waist, awkwardly placing them on your lower back as he couldn’t grab you as he desired, thanks to the pink, fuzzy restraints.

“Good boy~” you moaned, ass jerking back to swing your hips down onto the tops of his solid thighs. There was a ridiculous amount of pleasure that coursed through you with each rut of your hips against his, beginning to find a rhythm as the lewd smacks interrupted the soft music humming from the other side of the room. His cock jumped in response to your praise, stretching to press into a spot nestled deep inside your gummy walls.

Shouto watched you shiver through hooded eyes, feeling your cunt clench down onto him as your hips pushed down to get his cock to press harder inside of you. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he groaned, head tossing back over the back of the sofa, a long moan following.

“Oh God,” you whimpered, knees pushing into the cushions so you could find an arch that allowed the very tip of him to relocate the same angle, again and again. Your slick started to drip down your thighs and onto the tops of his, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. You felt like your stomach was on fire with how turned on you were— having him at your complete mercy made your cunt tighten around him, lust clouding your head.

One of your hands moved behind you and planted on his abs to help leverage your weight as you bounced on his lap, the other hand sneaking between your legs to toy with your neglected clit. Shouto whined when your fingers touched the sensitive nub, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter at the stimulation. It felt amazing to rub yourself with his cock plunging deep inside of you, your slick bountiful enough to spread across your clit and aid your efforts.

You kept up the pace, your thighs beginning to tremble as the pressure in your stomach continued to heighten. All the while, Shouto was moaning from beneath you, trying to hold his noises of content back, but failing each time. His large, rough hands trailed up and down your spine while you humped his lap, the metal of the cuffs a sharp contrast on your skin from the soft, pink cloth you fixed onto them.

“Slow down, love,” he choked out, the words heavy in his throat. There was no way he was going to last at the pace you were setting, not after you had handcuffed him, sucked him off, and started throwing your ass back onto his lap. You didn’t want to stop, but you knew that if you ignored his plea he was going to cum too soon. “Wait—” he whined when you got off his lap, standing up and turning around, letting him watch as you unhooked your bra.

You didn’t make him wait long, though. Your knees sank bank into the cushions on either side of him, but this time, your front was facing him. Shouto took in the sight of your naked chest gratefully, taking it upon himself to slip one of your nipples into his mouth. Guiding his wet cock back between your legs, you exhaled as you lowered yourself onto him again. Teeth grazed across your chest, your fingers winding through the short hairs at the back of his neck and carding through them. The new position allowed him to reach new depths when you fully sat on his lap, your toes curling at the edge of the cushion. You rolled your hips in slow and precise circles, grinding his length inside of you brazenly.

Leaning in so that your teeth could pinch at his bottom lip, you forced him to look up at you, savoring the fucked-out expression painted across his handsome features. “Fuck baby, your cock feels so good inside me,” you whispered, lips trailing across his cheek so that you could nip at his ear and test your newfound discovery another time. “You’re such a good boy, Shouto~”

Pure euphoria crashed through you as he bucked his hips up, slamming his cock balls-deep inside of you. You knew that you were supposed to be the dominant one right now, but it was impossible to keep the moan his action induced inside.

“Anything for you, Master,” he grunted, a sinful crackle in his tone as his tongue traced over your collar bone.

It didn’t help that his voice was so damn deliciously low— he was already sexy enough on his own. But when he had you all to himself, he stepped it up another level that none could ever imagine existed— the side of him that was devoted to your pleasure, the side of him that was dedicated to pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body until you were left boneless and breathless.

Shouto began to bounce you on his lap slightly, meeting you each time your hips fell down so that he could push entirely inside of you every time. You didn’t want to let him take over just yet, but his hips never seemed to tire, even now when yours began to tremble with exertion. That familiar pressure was back and building again, faster than last time in between your hips. Shouto was well aware of your declining energy, his hands cupping your breasts and thumbing over the hard buds on each one, the cuffs digging into your middle with each thrust.

“Take the cuffs off, Y/n,” he murmured, fingers twisting at your nipples gently. Then he started to suck a hickey into your cleavage, his cool breath making goosebumps appear on your skin.

“No,” you gasped as you dropped particularly hard onto his cock, silky inner walls spreading especially deep as his length pressed inside of you. “I can’t— have to make you feel good —agh, fuck!”

He flashed you a short smile, huffing as you continued your efforts on his lap. “I feel good when you feel good,” he replied, pinching at you harder, relishing the sweet moan that tumbled from your open mouth. “Please, I’ll behave, promise.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else from him, leaning back and swiping the key from underneath the book on the coffee table— where you had stashed it when you hid the cuffs in the first place. As soon as the cuffs were off, Shouto tossed them to the other side of the room, the pink restraints clattering as they landed somewhere on the floor. His hand immediately gripped your waist, fingers spreading out across your lower back, and tilting you back slightly while he leaned forward, thrusting up into you with fervor. The other hand made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling it so your throat was exposed with your head thrown back.

The sudden change in angle elicited a pathetic mewl from your chest, his cock hammering into your g-spot at such a pace that you were instantly brought to the brink of an orgasm. You clung onto his shoulders for dear life, his head buried in your neck while he sucked his mark into your skin, the wet, quick slaps of your fronts meeting repeatedly echoing through the apartment rhythmically.

“S’That feel good, Master?” His tongue trailed up your throat and he nibbled at your ear, just as you had done to him just minutes ago.

You could barely think, your cunt pulsing as you got closer and closer to cumming right around his cock, your fingernails digging into the thick muscles that lined his shoulders. “Y-Yes, fuck— so good— such a good boyyy~” you cried, tears gathering to dot along your lashline, your body overwhelmed with the ecstasy rushing through your entirety. “God, Shouto— I, I’m gonna—”

“Do it, love,” he ordered, hands dropping so that each cupped an ass cheek, spreading your legs even more so that each thrust was ensured to drive as deep inside of you as possible. He could feel your pussy clamping down on him, squeezing his cock hard enough that you must’ve been right on the edge, just needing that extra little push. “Please— ahh fuck, I— I want you to cum on my cock. Cum for me, Master.”

That was all it took for you to be creaming on his length, your body quivering in his hands as your cunt fluttered with bliss. It felt like the world was crumbling away and that Shouto and you were the only two people on the planet, like he was pouring oxygen into your veins just as you were about to run out of breath.

As you were still in the throes of your orgasm, Shouto maneuvered you so that your back was pressed up against the top of the coffee table in front of the couch, falling to his knees and throwing your shaking legs over his shoulders. The bowl of white chocolate and the magazines in the corner of the table fell down onto the hardwood floor, but neither of you were paying attention to the sound of the ruckus.

He began fucking you then, his hands clasping your thighs so that your body stayed close enough for him to slam his hips into yours without mercy. “Fuck Y/n, you’re so sexy, look at you, baby,” he hissed, taking a moment to examine your puffy cunt, spitting on it crudely before a thumb began to rub at your clit earnestly. “I’m your good boy, huh? See how good I fuck my Master?”

“Oh God— oh, fuck Shouto, yes! Don’t stop!” you exclaimed, and somehow, even though you were still cumming from before, another pressure started to build in your stomach, gathering faster than you could comprehend.

A heightened euphoria rushed through your nerves and tickled at the ends of your limbs, different from before. You whimpered when you realized what was happening, but by then it was too late to warn him— Shouto was pounding into you relentlessly, and his thumb steady on your clit only made your high arrive even faster. A strangled moan slipped out of you as clear liquid splashed across his abdomen, your body shivering and convulsing as it struggled to handle the pleasure he delivered to you. You had certainly orgasmed before, but this was as if the pleasure you had felt increased tenfold, leaving you truly wrecked and exhausted.

You were still squirting as you came to, and when you were finally able to look at him, you watched as he stroked his slick cock with ferocity. His eyes were focused on your soaked thighs before they closed and he groaned deeply, ribbons of white spurting past his hand and splattering across your breasts and stomach. His palm slapped onto the tabletop beside your waist while he hunched forward, out of breath as pleasure wracked through his fit body, the muscles that lined his torso heaving while his pink cock throbbed in his hand.

Your head fell back onto the table as you recuperated, shocked that he had just made you squirt all over him, and then he proceeded to cum at the sight, painting you white with his spend. Another minute passed and you were still trying to find your breath, coming down from your high, even though Shouto had already recovered from his.

A warm hand cupped the back of your neck, and you opened your eyes, realizing suddenly that you were secure in his arms, moving past the messy living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. His lips pressed against your forehead softly when he entered his room, your heart skipping a beat in your chest as you took in the dozens of lit candles that lined the walls and windows. It only continued when he turned into the ensuite, the bath filled with cloudy pink water, flower petals floating on the still surface and littering the surrounding tiles.

“Shouto— this is…” you tried to sit up in his arms, but he only held you tighter against his chest. There was a proud look that lingered in his eye, yet he only offered you a soft smile as you looked between him and your surroundings. No one had ever committed such a romantic act for you before, and you sure as hell hadn’t been expecting such a suave move from your boyfriend of a couple months.

So this is what he must’ve been doing when you had returned from dinner.

“There were bubbles, but someone distracted me and they must’ve popped while we were preoccupied,” he explained, fingers brushing a strand of hair to the side of your face.

“I— it’s perfect, baby,” you chirped as enthusiastically as you could, your body still drained from the exertion of two consecutive orgasms. “Thank you, I love it.”

He hummed as he shifted your weight to one arm, reaching out and activating his quirk to heat the water to the right temperature again. You sat in his arms, satiated and more content than ever as you surveyed his handsome face. Surely there would be hearts in your eyes, with how loved you felt in this moment.

Once he was satisfied with the warmth the water offered, he stepped into the tub, slowly submerging the two of you in the pleasant-scented bath. The warmth flooded into your tired bones, your body happy to be swaddled in his embrace as he held you close. You hummed as you rested your head against his chest, hand coming to rest beside your face.

“How’s the water? Just let me know and I’ll fix it to your liking… Master.”

You scoffed and slapped at his chest, the pink water splashing across his pale skin. He donned a genuine smile at the sound of your laughter, calloused fingers stroking down your spine. “Shut up,” you managed, cupping his neck and pressing a kiss to his throat to show your words held no real intent, “It’s perfect, I mean it. Thank you, Sho.”

Shouto’s smile remained, his eyes soft as his leg curled around one of yours beside the porcelain of the tub. “You deserve it,” he murmured, thumb swiping across your cheek to rid you of a water droplet that had splashed onto you from your attack. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

happi belated vday babes!! <3 once again, sorry it’s late~ I hope you all had a good one tho!! :3 love y’all <3 <3 <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 . 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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ceruleanchillin · 3 years ago

Text

Honeymoon Headcanons: Mayans Edition

Characters: Angel, Coco, EZ x F!Reader

Miami (Angel)

It wasn’t difficult at all to decide where the two of you would take your honeymoon. When you weren’t gonna be naked, Angel wanted you in sundresses and bikinis. You wanted him in linen shirts, and to feel him up in a club. Couple that with you both wanting a tropical environment, and Miami it is.

Angel letting you handle the accommodations, because you seem to know more about what you wanna see/where you wanna go than he does. He only cares about a bed and shower for when he’s not taking you in the inappropriate places. He just hands over the cash, though he complains about his hurt wallet.

Angel hard as a rock when he sees your new name on your plane ticket.

The two of you nearly missing your flight because your husband needs to “show his wife he loves her”.

You babying him on the flight, because Angel has never flown anywhere before.

“Mami, it’s perfectly valid to feel like a flying toaster can’t safely get you anywhere but a casket. Which they can’t even put you in, because you’ll be everywhere!”

Cue you distracting him with kisses and dirty words in his ear, which gets you initiated into the Mile High Club

Barely making it into the cute little condo before the two of you are at it again, collapsing in the late hours to jet lag and mutual satisfaction.

Your first official day is spent dragging Angel around the humid streets. Knowing he stresses easily if you plan things too tightly, and wanting to wing it yourself. It’s surprising how well you to fit in, it almost feels like home.

Angel switching from being jealous, because your tiny cotton sundress is attracting more than just his attention, to him kissing all over your dewy skin because so much of it is visible.

You getting as jealous as Angel, because it seems like each place you drag him to has openly interested ladies. It’s the white linen shirt that he won’t fully button no matter how many times you try to make him.

Angel basking in the attention, and even playing it up to force you to be the one to initiate inappropriate public sex.

Smirking when you break after a woman pays for his (and unintentionally yours) order at a small cafe you stepped into and you snap and drag him to a hidden place.

“I only love you querida, mi alma.” he whispers in your ear when he bottoms out inside you.

You two are a beautiful couple. Photogenic as all hell. Alone, neither of you have a problem attracting interest, but together, you make people want to be seen around you. That’s why you have no problem club hopping to all the exclusive places.

Angel taking photos and videos of you dancing because he’s so enthralled. He can’t wait to show your kids one day when they ask why he fell for you, and he explains how full of life you are.

Getting enough liquor in Angel to get him dance somewhere away from the club, especially since he (lies) and says he can’t.

You and Angel competing to see who can get the most people to buy your drinks + the two of you losing track because you both get drunk.

A quickie in the coatroom is the prize, Angel fucking you to the hypnotic beat.

Spending a few hours apart the following day, only to still keep texting and FaceTiming each other until you met up, touch starved, at a small restaurant.

Deciding to spend the rest of the day at your Airbnb laid up under each other after Angel scores weed. Teasing Angel about his monetary complaints when you spend all night enjoying the small backyard pool.

Angel thanking God for getting an adventure loving woman as his soulmate when you wake him up the next afternoon to inform him you rented jet skis for the day.

You being impressed when, while jet skiing, Angel silver tongues your way into an invitation to a nearby yacht party out of the host.

FaceTiming Gilly to make him jealous that you two are doing Hookah and drinking Casamigos in a hot tub.

Angel ramping up the mockery when EZ and Coco appear on screen, attracted by Gilly’s whining. Everyone looking overworked and salty, while you and Angel are living your best non-sober lives.

Slipping away from the party to one of the rooms on the boat, because once again, you and Angel never know when to stop teasing each other before it ends up in sex.

Feeling bold enough to suggest that since Angel’s been documenting so much of the trip, that maybe he should film this too.

The aftermath being a surprisingly sweet series of kisses and confessions where the two of you express how thankful you are to have found each other. How you can’t wait to build a forever together.

Marfa + Roswell (Coco)

No one knew how you got Coco to agree to travel for your honeymoon until you finally revealed where you were going. Splitting a week between Marfa and Roswell.

You and Coco are that “weird” conspiracy, incense, and weed couple, so it makes sense.

Giving Coco an edible before you leave, because like Angel, he doesn’t fuck with air travel like that.

“They got me with that bullshit in the military, but that was out of my control. You askin’ a lot right now, you’re lucky you’re cute mujer.”

Coco getting progressively handsy during the flight as the edible hits. Eventually, you stop fake-fighting his neck kisses and forward touches.

Also like Angel in that he’s unafraid to become a member of the Mile High Club.

The ride from the El Paso airport, to the car rental place, to Marfa takes far longer than Coco would like.

He’s used to long stretches of trip on his bike, and when you notice him becoming antsy, you distract him with interesting facts about Marfa.

The entire time, Coco can’t help but think that you’re the perfect road trip co-pilot, only to realize he actually meant his life in general now.

Coco proud as hell when you fall in love with his accommodations choice like he did. The colorful airstream trailers of the El Cosmico hotel are the two of you through and through.

You both trying to be responsible adults and refresh after travel, but continuing to get lost in each other during the whole process.

Shower sex -> Making out while drying off -> Touching while searching through your bags for something to wear -> bed sex -> repeat

Looking thoroughly mauled when you finally manage to get Coco off of you and into the car in search of food the next afternoon.

Coco being happy you can’t cover up due to the heat, while you wonder what superpower he and his boys have that let them wear flannel and long sleeves in the heat.

Dragging Coco to a cute cafe you saw on instagram, and him knowing, by the hipster design of it, that his wallet is about to cry.

Stealing food from his plate, and laughing at him sucking his teeth and whining when he catches you.

“You’re stuck with me forever now Johnny sooo….get used to this.”

“Small price to pay for that I guess.”

Finding small shops to go to and being Siamese twins in every one. Coco showing he has good taste in a lot of things one might think he wouldn’t. Him opening up his wallet at everything you 'ooh' and 'aww' at. He can’t help it, he likes you happy, and your kisses and adoring looks are addicting.

For almost everything you get, Letty gets something too. Neither of you wants that tantrum when you get back.

You fighting yourself to avoid the art supply store, and Coco not having it.

“I have so many supplies already, it’s an addiction at this point.”

“So? Get some more. It’s our week, we shouldn’t stress about shit.”

Coco bragging on your talents and successes to the art shop cashier when you checkout.

“Cocoooo.” you murmur hiding your face in his shoulder, arms around his waist.

“Don’t be shy ma, you’re fucking amazing. I love your skills.”

Cue the cashier swooning at the two of you.

Finding unique liquor stores and getting tipsy on samples. It becomes twice as fun when locals, and other tourists alike, start discussing the Marfa lights with you, and you and Coco impress everyone with your ideas.

Being invited to a bonfire smoke session with the other El Cosmico guests when you get back.

Sketching Coco by the firelight, because he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in that moment, and now he’s officially yours.

The sex being on another level of intimate that night, because all day you and Coco have been engaging in your respective love languages, and it culminates in mutual need for each other.

The drive to Roswell being more tolerable for Coco, but he still misses his bike. Your excitement about AlienFest is so palpable however, he quickly forgets.

Your hotel being more conventional, but the people you meet making up for it. Finally, you and Coco aren’t the weirdest ones in the room.

Taking the time before the festival starts to check in with friends and family and accumulate odd souvenirs for them. You believe Coco is intentionally getting them stuff they’ll hate.

“Taza won’t wear that baby, he has better taste in jewelry than UFO earrings.”

“Ok, but can he bitch about us not getting him anything? Plus, you can guilt anyone into anything.”

Doing cute edible pastries at the festival.

“You know Aliens are demons right? Jack Parsons and L. Ron Hubbard were doing summoning rituals in the Mojave in 1946, and Roswell was the following year.”

“Word?…Shit. Tell me that again when we’re not rolling. I wanna read about it………you’re so smart mami.”

Coco realizing between every snack stop, every dance he shares with you, every trinket you pick up, and every little conspiracy tidbit you share, that you’re his wife now. That the peace he’s been feeling all week, that he thought he’d never have, is going to be his new normal.

New Orleans (EZ)

You and EZ both enjoy engaging with history and culture, and felt that your honeymoon should be built off of your shared interests. During your meticulous wedding planning, it was decided New Orleans would be the honeymoon destination. It didn’t hurt that you missed your southern roots too, even if you weren’t from New Orleans.

Traveling with EZ is a dream considering you’re both pretty organized, together people. He’s not afraid of flying, but you’re always a little nervous.

EZ being Best Husband™️ and soothing even the most minor of your stresses by turning your attention to the excitement of your trip and your new relationship status.

Teasing EZ in-flight won’t get you Mile High Club initiated, because he finds it much more entertaining to punish you by letting you work the both of you up, and making you stay that way for the duration of the flight. He’s got enough will power to suffer through it, because your soft whines make it worth it.

The airbnb is everything it was promised to be, and you’d appreciate that later, but all you can think of is your husband when you step through the door. That’s the other half of why EZ likes to leave you waiting. Your aggression and exclusive desire for him gets, and keeps, him hard.

It rains the following day, which is just as well, because neither of you are quite ready to stop physically expressing your love for each other. The day consists of ordering food, falling out of your clothes and onto each other, separating to read, falling back on each other, and quick naps.

Angel sending mocking texts in your Reyes group about how you’re trying to turn his brother bamma like you, only to stop when you threaten him with no souvenirs.

EZ and you taking responsibility for your own tour because let’s face it, you both know exactly what you want to see, and can plan a more satisfying tour for the both of you. You take turns deciding where to go next.

When it’s his turn, EZ picks an art museum, and can’t quit smiling about it. You think it’s because he picked a place he really wanted to go to.

“Babe, I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” your excitement always makes EZ’s heart race with his own.

He hands you the guide brochure he picked up at the door, folded to the section he wants you to look at.

“Faith Ringgold exhibit?!”

He hums and nods, grunting when you knock into him with a hug.

“Thank you for thinking of me. I love you.” you look up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears and he just kisses you, afraid he’ll cry if he says anything.

The two of you avoid the tourist trap spots for lunch and find a cute family owned cafe. You order for the both of you based on what you know about southern cuisine and both of your tastes.

You love watching EZ fall in love with the food as he keeps asking “Can you make this?” about everything he eats.

The two of you walking through the Garden District in the evening. Hands swinging between you with no plans but to admire the beautiful homes and foliage.

EZ noting how awestruck you are, and you describing what you love about the historic, towering homes.

He catches that when you describe what your dream home in the area would be, he and your future children are mentioned frequently, and it makes butterflies dance in his stomach. He can picture your family in the yards around him.

The two of you almost make it back to your Airbnb, but give into your baser urges after all the domestic conversation. EZ pulls you into an alley for a quickie, the two of you fighting to silence the other’s vocal expression.

You teasing EZ after that he’s more like his brother than he thinks. Him teasing back the two of you would’ve been caught and arrested if he was like Angel.

The following day is relaxed and less planned. The both of you getting thoughtful gifts for each member of your family, blood and otherwise. EZ scores major points for the gifts he suggests for your mom and dad, and you kind of want to jump him again.

EZ is glad you’re impressed, but it’s nothing to him. It all comes naturally because he loves you so much, and refuses to be anything other than the husband he knows you deserve.

AN:

I didn’t want to add this, cuz I wanted to end on a sweet note, but you just know Angel would accidentally send that vid to one of his boys.

Personally, I lose it for shit like this. Anything domestic in writings is my jam, so I decided to make these headcanons.

- Fun fact: Jet Ski is kind of like Bandaid in that it’s become the generic term for “personal water vehicles”, but it’s actually a specific brand’s name for their PWVs. I learned this while writing this enjoy💀.

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #coco cruz #coco cruz x reader #ez reyes #ez reyes x reader #reader insert #angel reyes imagine #coco cruz imagine #ez reyes imagine

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

Text

teeny tidbits: three years later and yoongi is still very much in love with y/n

according to my period tracking app i’m due in four days so that explains why i felt the sudden urge to sit down and write this

also i had to go back and read the wedding drabble to double-check a minor detail and.,,.., barfs i am so sorry for all of the ceo!drabbles the writing is so tragic

i hope u enjoy this small product of my sappiness <3

➺ pairing; ceo!yoongi x y/n

➺ genre; idk just very sappy and gooey and if ur a ceo!couple stan ur going to love this

➺ wordcount; 1.4k

»»————-　💞　————-««

the first thing yoongi finds especially odd when he steps into the penthouse is the fact that it’s a little too quiet for his liking

he purses his lips as he shuts the door behind him, blindly turning the lock with a quiet click as he looks around

sure, it’s almost midnight, but you’re usually tinkering around in the kitchen for a snack or watching netflix on the couch whenever he comes home late... so where are you now?

he’s about to call out for you when he suddenly remembers that hwayoung’s definitely fast asleep by this hour and that you’d murder him in cold blood if he accidentally woke her up and ruined her sleeping schedule (she gets very grouchy when she’s not following a set schedule - and yoongi knows her sour morning attitude was probably inherited from him but he sleeps more peacefully at night thinking that it’s because of one of your genes)

yoongi places his keys on the top of the shoe cabinet quietly before reaching down to yank his laces loose

“woah.” he holds his hands out to keep himself steady after he stands up too quickly and his head starts to spin and he starts to see double

oof

maybe he should’ve slowed down with the wine at dinner

it’s not his fault he’s so weak for a good red!

“shower time, showah time…” yoongi murmurs to himself as he makes his way up the spiral staircase, gripping onto the railings tightly so that he doesn’t slip on his way up, “would you like to join me? wanna come with? lemme soap you up, girl-” he slurs, smiling cheekily to himself at the possibility of being able to run his hands all over your body in a few short minutes

he gives himself a high five when he makes it to the top of the staircase successfully, wobbling for a split second before nodding to himself and giving himself a mental pat on the back

B-)

nice

the warm light coming from the crack in the door leaks into the hallway and yoongi shuffles towards it like a moth towards a flame, reaching up to fumble at his tie with boneless fingers-

yoongi immediately freezes once he reaches the door, his heart skipping a beat in his chest when he catches a glimpse of you wearing your wedding dress through the crack

he watches curiously as you smooth your hand over the neckline before turning from side to side to look at yourself in the mirror

he wasn’t expecting to see this when he came up here but he’s definitely not complaining

yoongi presses his hand against the door frame to keep himself from accidentally stumbling in and scaring you and ruining what seems to be a private moment

it’s just that seeing you in your dress again is triggering a sudden flood of memories of your guys’ wedding day into his mind and it’s making his heart feel all funny (it’s actually just heartburn from the wagyu steak he wolfed down earlier)

the corners of yoongi’s mouth immediately raise in a fond smile at the recollection of you staring up at him with so much love in your eyes as he slid the silver ring onto your finger

it was a beautiful ceremony

the food was great

the champagne was fabulous

the after-party was super fun

the after-after party where it was just you and him alone was definitely fun as well

he can still recall the scent of you all over him when he woke up the next morning

and obviously the honeymoon was great - who doesn’t like paris?!

not to mention, you still look just as beautiful as you did on the day the two of you said i do

maybe it’s just because the alcohol is making him feel all goopy inside but he wants to be a part of whatever moment you’re having!!!

“i’m pretty sure it’s bad luck for me to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding, darling.” yoongi pushes the door open with a creak and takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to keep himself from smiling too widely, “want me to close my eyes?”

“yoongi!” you gasp, pulling your veil up and over your head as you spin around quickly, “god, i don’t understand how your footsteps are so quiet- i really think i should put a bell on you or something-”

“what are you doing?” yoongi interrupts, tilting his head curiously as he offers you a soft smile, “hopefully not wearing your dress so you can run off and marry someone else.”

“no, obviously not-” you snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, “i was doing some cleaning earlier and i found the box and… i don’t know, i wanted to see if i could still fit into it and… well-” you sigh, turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror before flopping your arms down in defeat, “it doesn’t zip all the way up anymore.”

“to be fair, you’ve given birth to a child since our wedding.” yoongi raises a brow, glancing down at the zipper that’s stuck halfway up your back, “even if you didn’t fit into it at all it would still be totally fine-”

“yeah, but i had to suck in a lot just to get the stupid zipper up halfway-!” you whine quietly, pouting at yourself in the mirror before gesturing to your chest, “one sneeze and my boobs are going to pop out-”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that-”

“you know, maybe i should’ve had spanx embedded into the dress instead of it being 100% silk because silk is not a very forgiving material-”

“oh, baby…” yoongi chuckles, slinking his arms around you from behind before leaning down to prop his chin up on your shoulder, “don’t be so hard on yourself! your body literally made a human being- forgive it if it can’t fit into a dress from, like, three years ago…”

“i guess…” you trail off, leaning back a little to rest your head against yoongi’s as you continue looking at yourself in the mirror with a pitiful little frown on your face, “it’s just hard to feel beautiful when i can’t fit into most of my old clothes…”

“hey, you cut that out right now.” the smile immediately drops from yoongi’s face and he frowns at you in the mirror disapprovingly, “so what if you can’t fit into the dress anymore? you’re beautiful and like, really hot and- and even after all this time i’m still super head-over-heels in love with you and you could be wearing a potato sack and i would still think you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the planet and- and i love y-”

“alright, you drunk, i get it.” you giggle lightly, reaching up to pat the side of yoongi’s warm face, “i love you more.”

“good.” yoongi smiles contently when it seems like you’ve cheered up a little from his (very good and extremely persuasive, in his opinion) pep talk, “love you most.” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your palm

“mhm. you reek of wine, by the way-” you wrinkle your nose playfully, letting yoongi sway you back and forth gently before reaching down to pat at his hand, “i think we should get you into the shower and then into bed.”

“i think we should get we into the shower and then into bed.” yoongi corrects you, pausing for a second to think over his words, “yeah. that makes sense.”

…,..,we should get we into the shower and then into bed…..,,.

that totally makes sense

you know what he means

“i’m only joining you so that you don’t pass out halfway through and end up falling asleep against the wall like you did last time.” you remind him, though it’s obvious he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying because he’s too busy nipping at the side of your neck

“mm. hey, you know what the best part is about the zipper not going all the way up?” yoongi grins, one of his arms sliding back from your waist so he can reach for the zipper, “it makes it much easier for me to get you out of this dress.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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cloud-bees · 4 years ago

Text

I feel like Neil and Andrew wouldn’t get married until it became an issue that they weren’t married.

Like, Neil is in the hospital (because he’s an idiot) and Andrew storms in and demands to know what room he’s in because he’s actually going to strangle him this time but the nurse refuses to give him any information since he’s not related to Neil. Andrew tries just standing there with his “I’m going to kill you if you don’t give me what I want” face until she gave in but nurses do not give a fuck and she just says she’ll call security if Andrew doesn’t move and he decided getting arrested for beating up security guards is not the solution to this particular problem. (Progress!)

So when Neil gets out of the hospital a few hours later there’s a box with two matching rings inside it on the passenger seat and Neil is like “???” And Andrew just starts driving and he drives them to a courthouse and Neil is like, rings... courthouse... “Are we getting married?” And Andrew just gets out of the car and starts walking and Neil gets out and catches up to him and goes “Is this your way of proposing to me?” “238%” and Neil laughs. (Kevin is the witness, Andrew called him after he found out Neil would be released soon and told him to be at the courthouse in 20 minutes) (Kevin protested because he was practicing) (Andrew threatened to light every exy stick he owned on fire if he wasn’t there in 20 minutes) (Kevin was at the courthouse in 15 minutes).

So they get married but Neil is kinda concerned because he can’t wear his ring while he’s playing or practicing, which is like 80% of what Neil does, and he’s worried he’s gonna lose it and he doesn’t want to lose it because it’s important. And then one day he comes out of practice to find his ring where he left it in his bag except now it’s on a simple silver chain and he looks over to Andrew who’s changing out of his gear and he sees Andrew’s ring on a chain around his neck and Neil just smiles and puts the chain on but he never says anything about it and neither does Andrew.

When the rest of the foxes find out there is hell to pay (Except Kevin). It’s at one of their annual get togethers and Katelyn is showing the girls her engagement ring because Aaron may be a dick but he is sappy as fuck for Katelyn and Allison makes an off hand comment to Neil like “We should start a bet on who proposes between those two first.” And they all laugh and start debating it and then Neil speaks up and says “Andrew did.” And they all turn to him and are like,,, he what. And then they have the following conversation:

Dan: You guys are engaged?!

Neil: No.

Matt: But you just said-

Neil: We’re married.

Nicky: YOU’RE WHAT

And Nicky is upset because how dare they get married without him there, and Allison is upset because how dare they get married and not let her plan it. And Neil just looks at Andrew like, why are they upset I’m confused and Andrew doesn’t even look at him he’s just staring out the window look incredibly bored with this entire conversation. They’re all confused when Neil explains that they only got married for legal reasons really and Aaron says “at least now if Josten dies all his money will go to Andrew,” and Andrew gives his twin a look that is clearly a warning and Aaron just smirks because he knows it means ‘don’t talk about him dying that’s not funny’. Aaron gets that look a lot.

And Andrew and Neil are happily married and the media never really finds out although they speculate that Neil and Andrew has a secret wedding and then went on a secret honeymoon to Hawaii and Neil laughs so hard at that because they didn’t mean for it to be a secret they just never felt the need to tell anyone. But Neil can’t deny that every time he feels the ring against his chest or sees it dangling around Andrew’s neck he feels a little rush of warmth because it’s a reminder that Andrew has decided that this is permanent and for a man who’s lived his whole life on the run and another man who bounced from miserable foster home to miserable foster home, they both know how important promising permanency is.

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couldntbedamned · 2 years ago

Text

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 1

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he's swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he's running out of time before he's out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a "lack of personal fulfillment and settling down," he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man's profile he'd briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It's not ideal, but if after a year it's not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It's a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It's either going to be forever or it's going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker

Author’s Note: So this is basically the 1950s/Modern fusion marriage law-ish type AU that literally no one asked for, but came to my mind because of who I am as a person. So, either my apologies, or you're welcome. Up to you. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

<<<>>>

Chapter 1

<<<>>>

In his dire situation, there were only two choices available to him. One, he could enlist in the military and probably die fighting in some war his country had no business fighting in, or Two, he could sign himself over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections and take his chances as a bought spouse to a complete stranger.

He really didn’t want to die, and the BCSS was notorious for the thorough - often intrusive - screenings of potential spousal buyers.

Better a ring than a rifle, he finally decided.

Peter Parker, freshly 19 and all alone in the world, got what little affairs he had left in order after making the mistake of trusting the wrong man, and signed his life over to the BCSS.

He was bought and wedded less than a month in.

His husband – the man who selected him as a spouse - was a doctor, of all things! He was actually the most acclaimed and admired doctor working for the hospital in the sleepy little town the BCSS relocated Peter to after he signed himself over.

Dr. Stephen Strange was a tall man with piercing eyes that never seemed to quite decide on blue or green. Despite not even being 40, his dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, which made him look distinguished and debonair. He looked like a doctor, Peter thought. His hands in particular were long-fingered and dexterous and were firm around his own as he’d placed the silver ring on Peter’s finger in the little farcical theater that was their “marriage” ceremony. Peter could absolutely imagine those hands working miracles at the hospital.

He seemed stern. He was probably strict.

But Peter wouldn’t have been all but sold to him if Stephen wasn’t a fair man, right?

They were told by the Bureau Assessor to expect a follow-up in six months immediately before being congratulated on their marriage. Everything happened in a blur and then they drove away in Stephen’s Buick.

He didn’t expect a honeymoon, naturally. Travel was expensive and buying a spouse through the BCSS wasn’t cheap. Peter wasn’t exactly sure how much he’d set Stephen back and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

“Do you live in town?” He asked, studying the cheery storefronts and patrons walking to and fro on the generous sidewalks occasionally looking up to check the progress of the zeppelins flying high above them.

“Just outside, actually, in the Bleecker Grove Estates.”

Peter nodded. All he knew was that the Bleecker Grove Estates were reportedly the nicest part of town. Chances were that he’d find no friends in the addition, that they’d take one look at him, a poor guy from Midtown, and turn their noses.

Stephen drove him to a nice restaurant - the kind with cloth napkins and a fancy front man. He escorted Peter inside, allowing the host to lead them to a private booth.

Peter sat down and felt embarrassingly out of place. His trousers, while pressed, were faded and worn. His button-down was two sizes too big and he was useless with even the most basic knots for ties. His blazer wasn’t much better, the cuffs were worn at the edges and a couple of buttons were missing.

Stephen, however, was perfectly at home in a made-to-order suit from Sears Roebuck and Co. His tie was perfectly knotted and even his Jarman shoes were shiny rather than scuffed. He even smelled nice.

He was so far out of Peter’s league. But for some reason, this educated, handsome man wanted Peter. He’d bought him and less than two days after the application was approved, married him.

“This place is really nice,” Peter said quietly, looking around.

The dark wood paneling was relieved by the warm glow of rose-tinted glass sconces along the walls, ceiling light fixtures, and the rich teal upholstery of the benches in each booth. Each table was covered with an elegant primrose tablecloth. The vase in the center of their table was real crystal and held a small bouquet of flowers Peter had never even seen before.

“I suppose it would be,” Stephen said, tone noncommittal.

“Do we get menus?” Peter asked, folding his hands in his lap. Just how exactly did one go about making conversation with their new husband? He figured it would be awkward in any selected spouse situation.

“That won’t be necessary,” Stephen said.

The waiter brought Stephen a cocktail and Peter a glass of iced tea, unsweetened. “Were you ready, Dr. Strange?” he asked.

“We’ll have the roasted beef tenderloin, with beefsteak tomatoes for the salad,” Stephen instructed. “Baked potatoes, and the garlic French bread, as well.”

“Very good, Sir. I’ll put your order in straight away.”

“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted,” Peter said, more confused than annoyed.

“I don’t care what you want.”

Peter had no idea what to say to that, only felt like he’d just been struck across the face.

“I had little interest in marriage, selected or otherwise. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t have bothered if it weren’t strongly recommended by the board of directors at Sanctum General as a factor in my continued employment and eventual advancement.” Stephen stared him down and Peter clenched his hands to keep from fidgeting. “We’ll go over rules and expectations when we get home, but so long as you’re obedient and don’t cause problems, I don’t see why we can’t have an amicable life together.”

“We do have a year to see if it works or not,” Peter said quietly.

“Indeed,” Stephen drawled.

Peter fully intended to annul the marriage if it didn’t work. As it was, it was not off to an auspicious start. But, he told himself, he was strong. He could survive a year.

He bit back any questions he had and busied himself with doctoring his tea with one of the delicate sugar cubes in a small crystal bowl on the table. The tea wasn’t nearly as good as what his aunt had made, but it was better than nothing.

Stephen, on the other hand, had turned his attention to his phone, probably looking through important emails or patient chart updates. Peter hadn’t actually seen a mobile device up close, since only the very rich could even afford them. His only experience with phones was using the old but sturdy rotary kind.

When the waiter appeared to set the table, Peter tried not to gawk. The array of silverware - real silver! - was confusing. Stephen seemed to understand his hesitance after the tomatoes were brought out with the bread.

“You start from the outside and as the meal progresses, work your way in,” he said simply. “I’m sure I have a book on dining etiquette somewhere on my bookshelves. You’ll read it.”

Peter nodded and did his best to mimic Stephen.

He knew he must look awkward, but he didn’t knock anything over, stain the tablecloth or his shirt, and he wasn’t hauled out by his ear for using what he knew was a more-than-healthy dose of salt and pepper on his plain baked potato, foregoing the butter and sour cream in favor of spooning some of the tenderloin’s juices on top.

He couldn’t add much in terms of conversation, but at least the food turned out to be amazing.

Following dinner, Stephen drove them north through town, slightly west, and through large, elaborate wrought iron gates that proclaimed Bleecker Grove. The houses were neat with tidy lawns and mailboxes. Peter recognized many of the automobiles as expensive and nearly new, just like Stephen’s Buick.

Then Stephen turned into a driveway, parked, and cut the engine.

Home.

His new home was somehow inviting and dread-inspiring at the same time.

It was a beautiful Cape Cod style house. Its light gray paint only served to showcase the robin’s egg blue of the door, shutters, window grids, and flower boxes. A slate blue roof gave way to a dark red brick chimney on the side and the lawn was immaculate.

Peter was looking at wealth, security, and prestige on perfect display.

“Inside,” Stephen said, giving Peter a small push.

The inside was just as impressive, if lifeless. The living room off to the left of the foyer boasted a grand fireplace. The walls were papered with a damask stripe in powder blue, while the carpet was an even deeper blue. The window treatments were dark red with a goldenrod floral print. A goldenrod couch was facing the back wall and two chairs - one goldenrod and the other with the same pattern as the curtains sat opposite with a coffee table between.

It was grand, showy, and obviously meant for entertaining.

Oh, no.

Would he have to host dinner parties, now that he was the husband of a prominent and respected doctor? He knew nothing about entertaining! He doubted making sweet and sour meatballs and filling a few bowls full of crackers for a lively night of canasta and bridge counted. Stephen’s guests would no doubt be sophisticated and stuffy, a far cry from the bawdy ladies his Aunt May had rotated card nights with.

Finishing his perusal of the room, he saw Stephen watching him with a raised brow and something like an amused smirk playing about his mouth.

What? He couldn’t be curious about the home he’d be living in for at least the next year?

Moving past Stephen, he came to the dining room on the other side of the foyer.

It was… elegant.

A built-in showcased fine China and silver. The dining table seated six and was decorated with a cream and jade green cloth shot through with gold. He imagined the cherry wood sideboard housed the rest of the fine linens, assorted dishes and candles. The window treatments were heavy crushed Jade green velvet.

“Is it to your liking?” Stephen asked with an air that told Peter he didn’t particularly care if it was or wasn’t.

“The cream carpet will be a pain to clean if food or drink ever hits it,” Peter said honestly. “It’s nice, though. Was it your mother who decorated? Or maybe a sister?”

Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I could have done it?”

Peter snorted. “Most men don’t have the eye for this sort of detail,” he reasoned. “It’s not a criticism; this is really well done.”

“I hired an agency to decorate,” Stephen finally said. “The agent assigned to my account drafted several designs for each room and I chose which one I preferred.”

“You chose well,” Peter said, moving further back into the house.

“In some things.”

Ouch.

The kitchen was thoroughly modern, which made him happy. He would be spending most of his time in this room, probably.

The major appliances were all built into the cabinets. He’d seen advertisements for Stark Company’s famous line of Kitchen Living, but never such luxury in person. The double ovens and connected broiler would get a lot of use, as would the separate gas range that included an actual deep fryer! He was tall enough to reach the refrigeration cabinets, so at least he wouldn’t have to endure the humiliation of asking for a stepstool. There was even a top-loading dishwasher. The appliances and cabinets were all blue, which surprised him. He’d have been sure that those rich enough to afford the top-of-the-line set-up would have chosen Stark’s signature Hot Rod Red, despite the array of color choices. Then again, Stephen appeared to prefer blue.

They looked nice with the white countertops, black and white checkered flooring, and black and white curtains adorning the window that gave a perfect view of the backyard. There was even a table and chair set for two, presumably for breakfast.

Leaving the kitchen there was a closet built into the back of the staircase, and then he found a family room. Or a den, as his aunt had called theirs. This room was more lived-in than the rest of the house. Knotty pine wooden panels covered the walls, lending to the warmth of the red carpeting, dark brown armchairs, and built-in bookshelves that were filled with more books than Peter had seen outside of a library. A small liquor cabinet took up the far corner and Peter’s fingers itched to play with the PymCo console and record player along another wall.

It was more comfortable and even… cozy than Peter would have expected of someone as stiff as Stephen.

“The mudroom is through the side door in the kitchen,” Stephen said, striding over to the record player. “I have a washer and dryer, along with racks for hanging more delicate garments to dry. There’s also a clothesline set up in the yard.”

Peter turned to look at him.

“The door through the dining room leads to a half-bathroom,” Stephen added. “Shall we go upstairs?”

Peter swallowed and followed Stephen, collecting his two suitcases. “S-sure.”

<<<>>>

#couldntbedamned fic #peter parker x stephen strange #peter parker x doctor strange #doctor strange x peter parker #stephen strange x peter parker #spiderstrange #spideystrange #aus are my heart and soul #1950s au #1950s-modern era fusion au

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ggukkieland · 4 years ago

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📕CURRENT READS (2020 November)

🌹 Almost done with the list except for a few and I am excited to curate fics that are fitting for merry December 🎅❄🎄🤶 woot woot!

I enjoyed this month’s reads - a mix of cyberpunk au, android au, werewolf aus, slice of life, exes and those on the verge of breaking up, and lots of beautifully-written drabbles which ended up in my list of favorites.

Please send these authors some love by reblogging their content =)

✅ - done reading | S (smut) F (fluff) A (angst)

🥕[Ongoing Series - to check weekly]

Still reading the ongoing series from October’s reading list, whenever there is an update 😊.

Onyx @springbean - JJK | ABO universe, omega!reader, rouge!Alpha!Jungkook, roommates, cyberpunk au | A, F (this is so fascinating)

[2/?] years after the war, Soketh has become a bustling electric city of life and death. a world now filled with mystery, danger, and rules, y/n finds herself rooming with her old friend while trying to find herself in the city of dangerous dreams. however, her world is turned upside down when a rouge alpha enters their life seeking refuge and help…

Vulgar and Divine @yeoldontknow - JHS | elf!hoseok au, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, fantasy au, horror, suspense | A, S

[1/?] The Elf King buys your hand in marriage as an act of political strategy - you, the Banshee Priestess and your ability to forewarn death in exchange for your people’s return to your original home in the River Lands. You hate him for the way his kind make a mockery of death. Even before you meet him, you decide you will not grieve his death - not even a little. But then, on the day of your wedding you begin to weep - and it is not out of love or rapture.

Kitchen Confidential @glitter-kookiedough - KSJ | chef au, slow burn, enemies to lovers | A, F, S

[3/?] After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change. 🌟 new chapter🌟

enemiestolovers drabble series @sincerelyourfangirl - JJK | enemies to lovers, fwb, co-workers | S, A, F

[3/?] Maybe the line between love and hate is thin. Especially when you’re in bed with Jungkook.

Challenge Accepted | What Happens When You’re not Careful | Risky Business

The Lost Luna @hobisbeautifulass - KTH | werewolf au, soulmate au, rival clans | F, A

[2/?] One Luna is born per a hundred-year cycle or so and only appears after the previous one has passed away. This Luna was forced into hiding for seventeen years, but now she’s back, bloodthirsty, and ready to reclaim her throne.

Mutual Help @personasintro - JJK | bestfriend au, fwb au, fake dating | A, S, F

[24/?] in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it a mutual help

Bite Me @cheeky-kookie - PJM | vampire au | A, F, S

[1/?] Growing up, you always learned to look over your shoulder at night, hoping to never run into the catlike gleam of a vampires eyes. Yet, one night on your way home you find yourself staring into the very things you feared most. Dangerously beautiful and undeniably confident, Park Jimin was everything you knew you needed to stay away from, but he had other plans.

Nut Jobs @ironicarmy - OT7 | slice of life, crack, humor, friends au | S

[5/?] Eight friends. One terrible idea. A whole lot of trouble. Welcome to No Nut November.

Cherry Pickers @kimnjss - JJK | social media au, smau, gamer, fuckboi, vixen!reader, virgin!reader | F, S, A

[4/?] [updates daily] known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

(or, you’re a video vixen with an assumed identity and jungkook manages to see past it.)

Across the Board @out-of-jams - KTH | 20s, gambling, mafia au, enemies to lovers | S, A

[1/?] And now you’re indebted to the city’s most dangerous mob boss, forced to pay your dues in blood one way or another. With a gun pushed into your hands and your life at stake; once you’re in, you’re in. You’ll never get out.

🥕[Completed AUs/Series/Drabbles - to read]

Through Time and Space @taephilia - 10.6k | KSJ | F, A, sci-fi, time travel au, adventure, doctor who au

re: Untitled @to-star-lake - 18.8k | JJK | A, S, F, ceo au, arranged marriage, childhood acquaintance turned enemies (one of my favorites this month 🥰)

01 02 03 04 ✅

Moral of the Story @suhdays - 7.7k | JHS | A, F, S, strangers to loves, soulmate au, OC can tell if people are telling the truth (really interesting) ✅

In the Margins @bonvoyagenoona - 31k | MYG | F, S, A, writer au, humor, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, editor!reader, writer!yoongi [also on AO3]

01: Winter (5k words) ✅ 02: Spring (6k words) 03: Summer (7k words) 04: Fall (13k words)

Into my Bones @inkofyoongi - 15k | MYG | S, F, A, fwb to lovers, slice of life-ish, non-chronological (this is awesome 🌟) ✅

A Human Touch @snackhobi - 39.1k | KTH | F, S, robot au, android!taehyung

01 ✅ 1.5 02 (will finish the rest of the chapters; this is so good)

Supply and Demand @scribblemetae - 5.7k | MYG | S, A, supernatural au, telepathic!myg, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers ✅

More than Us @jeongi - 11.3k | KTH | F, S, college au, roommate au, best friend to lovers

Moirai @jimlingss - 46.9k | KTH | F, A, isekai au, fantasy au, reborn as a villain in a video game

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Taking Flight @rmnamjoons - 15.2k | KNJ | S, sci-fi, post-apocalypse, rivals to friends to lovers au

Lining’s Silver @sketchguk - 14.1k | MYG | S, F, College au, idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers

Even a Forest Fire Dies Out @9uk - 6.6k | JJK | A, F, exes au (a re-read) ✅

Southpaw @starshapedkookie - 30k | JJK | A, S, F, childhood friends, college au, boxer au, kinda e2l-ish (a re-read, that fight scene was just exhilarating) 🔥🥊 ✅

All That We Had @starlightauroras-writes - 13k | JJK | Heavy A, S, F, exes au, reunion, ex-husband!JK ✅ (author said there’ll be Pt2)

After the Honeymoon Fades @onherwings - 13k | MYG | A, S, F, established relationship (on the rocks), producer!yoongi, professor!OC ✅

Cozy Thief @bratkook - 5.1k | JJK | F, S, roommates au, mutual pining ✅

Quiet Baby by bratkook - 3.2k | JJK | S, established au, pwp, exhibitionism✅

Come Over by bratkook - 7.2k | JJK | S, pwp, neighbors au, voyeurism ✅

Tear You Apart by bratkook - 17.4k | KTH | S, pwp, slight horror, paranormal

01 ✅ 02 (to read)

Breathe @ephemeralkookie - 6.9k | JJK | A, S, F, exes au, multiple break-ups ✅

Shield @namgukgalore - 18.6k | JJK | F, S, slow burn, security guard!JJK, co-workers au ✅

Imitation of Art by namgukgalore - 9.6k | KTH | F, S, romance, friends to lovers

High School Reunion @btsarmy9593 - 6k | MYG | F, reunion, second chances ✅

One Night Ride by btsarmy9593 - 3.8k | JJK | F, hints of S, college!JK, noona, one night stand au ✅

Off the Table @fakeleaves - 11k | KNJ | A, F, exes to lovers ✅

By its Cover @crystaljins - 38.9k | JHS | F, A, enemies to lovers, demon au, magic/supernatural, witch!reader

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 ✅

Your Eyes Tell @njkbangtan - 40k | JJK | A, F, mild S, soulmate au, roommates au, enemies to lovers, slow burn, a bit sugar baby au, lawyer!reader, artist!jungkook

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 ✅

Popular-ish (drabble series) @hansolmates - 16.1k | JJK | F, S, A, popular!JJK, normie!reader, college au, fwb-ish

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 ✅ 🥰

One More Time (Finale) - 7.3k | reunion ✅

No One @dfdph - 21k | JJK | A, extreme sports, slice of life, epistolary (in form of letters), heavy angst (not kidding! with trigger warnings; written so beautifully but angst may not be for all) ✅

Repercussions: Suspenders, Satin and Stockings @pars-ley - 3.1k | MYG | S, pwp, established relationship ✅

Have Faith in Me @aroseforyoongi - 6.4k | KTH | S, F, werewolf au, soulmates au, bestfriends to lovers ✅

The Art of Boxing @seokiie - 3.1k | JJK | S, pwp, boxing au ✅

Beautiful Confession @btsracket - 6.3k | JJK | S, F, fake dating, friends to lovers ✅

Tongue Tied @btssavedmylifeblr - 12k | PJM | S, F, minor A, crack, demon au, idol verse, established relationship, pwp ✅

Infamous @sugaxjpg - 12.5k | KTH | S, A, secret relationship au, fuckboy au ✅

Familiar Stranger @army-author - 7.3k | KTH | F, friends to lovers, high school au, mixed-up identity ✅

Strangers Again @minniefilms - 11.4k | JJK | A, F, enemies to lovers, best friend’s boyfriend

01 02 03 04 drabble ✅

Ruin Him @kingsuckjin - 3.5k | JJK | S, pwp, virgin!JK, coworker au ✅

Sex Education @extravaguk - 12k | JJK | S, F, A, brother’s best friend, virgin!OC (actually came out fluffier than expected 🥰) ✅

In your Eyes @sweetaesuga - 10.6k | JJK | S, F, A, college au, fratboy au, ex-fuckboy jk, friends to lovers ✅

Drabble Series: In Your Heart [4/11] ✅

Lunar Violence @taetaesbaebaepsae - 7.4k | JJK | S, rock band au, werewolf au, ABO dynamics, strangers to lovers ✅

A Fallen Bookmark on a Thursday Afternoon @cutaepatootie - 19k | JJK | A, F, S, strangers to lovers, takes the same train every Thursday 😭 ✅

There You Are @joonkookiemonster - 13.4k | JJK | F, S, ABO dynamics, werewolf au ✅

Here I Come @jiminssthetic - 3k | JJK | S, pwp, college au, friends to lovers ✅

Morning Rush @atdawnsuga - 3.2k | JJK | S, college au, exhibitionism, strangers ✅

(in)Satiable @thatlongspringnight - 11.3k | JJK | S, F, incubus au, lucid dreams ✅

The Red Pool @ksmuttherapy - 3.1k | JJK | S, horror, vampire au, dusk til dawn vibes

inTOXICated @sugarjaee - JJK | A, S, toxic relationship, college au, fboi au

01 02 03 04 05 06 ✅

Inebriated [Jungkook’s POV] - 7.4k, read after chapter 4 ✅

You’re so Creepy (drabble series) @whatifyoulivelikethat - 2k per member | OT7 | F, crack, university au, creepy girl au, (actually cute)

There’s always at least one campus creepy girl. Or seven. Part 1 (1st kiss) Part 2 (2nd meeting)

kim namjoon - part i | part ii (fave) ✅

kim seokjin - part i | part ii (fave) ✅

min yoongi - part i | part ii ✅

jung hoseok - part i | part ii (fave) ✅

park jimin - part i | part ii (fave) ✅

kim taehyung - part i | part ii ✅

jeon jungkook - part i | part ii ✅

🥕[Drabbles]

Feeling @sometimeinjoon - 2.3k | JJK | demon JJK, established relationship, a bit slice-of-life | love this so much ✅🥰

Warmth @artaefact - 306 words | JJK | fluff, fantasy au, incandesce couple ✅

Too Close @taestybae - 1.4k words | JJK | expecting parents au, boxer au, angst ✅

“i’m yours, in every way you’ll have me” by taestybae - 0.8k | KTH | S, A, fwb au ✅

“Are you Sure?” by taestybae - 2k | KTH | S, F, brother’s best friend | love this! ✅ 🥰

“The strings are attached already” @taetaespeaches - 1.8k | KNJ | angst, fwb ✅

Deep End @latetaektalk - 2.2k | MYG | angst, fuckboy au, a bit of fluff ✅

Game Boy @suqakoo - 2.7k | JJK | S, gamer au, enemies to lovers, a bit of fluff ✅🔥

Reese’s It’s All for You @joonkookiemonster - 3.1k | JJK | F, demon au, roommate au, Driving me Wild Halloween Drabble ✅

Transparent @kingsuckin - 793 words | JJK | S, pwp, established relationship, see-through JJK shirt 😉 ✅🔥

Savage Love @whatifyoulivelikethat - | JJK | S, pwp, OC is yoongi’s ex 😬 ✅

🌹 Drabbles by @zephyoongist - I love the way these are written. Just beautiful. Truly fluffy (like butterflies in my stomach) and also gives off a deep/for keeps type of dynamics between the characters:

you and yoongi had an unusual friendship... - 665 words | MYG | fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers ✅🥰

kim taehyung had only met you a few times… - 1.2k | KTH | fluff, accidental pregnancy au ✅🥰 (a fave)

there wasn’t any particular reason as to why min yoongi chose you to be his mate - his luna… - 840 words | MYG | fluff, werewolf au, slice of life ✅🥰

jung hoseok found you when you were about to make the biggest mistake of your life… - 1.5k | JHS | fluff, runaway bride, slice of life | really cute ✅🥰

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