#the mystery of grocery carts

[court-jobi]

Meal Prep

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))

Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5k

Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)

Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy

Summary:

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 

Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 

Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 

Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 

He asks what brought this on~ 

"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 

You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 

– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.

Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.

But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.

Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 

And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.

He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."

He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.

You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.

"Whass’wrong with that?" 

Bakugou simply purrs back happily.

"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."

"Maybe I don't want you to stop."

He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 

Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.

"You don't want me to stop." 

Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.

"You want me to stay." 

Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 

Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,

"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”

"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 

"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 

"Hmm– kiss me?" 

Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.

The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 

"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 

Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 

“Hell yes--" 

Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 

Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.

Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.

Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 

Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-

His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 

The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 

Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 

Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.

"Need your gloves?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."

As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 

"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 

A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”

As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.

"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 

"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”

Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.

“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."

He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 

"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"

"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 

One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:

Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.

"Katsuki~~"

"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."

"But I want you~~"

"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 

His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."

A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 

"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"

Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 

Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.

"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.

"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.

Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."

He only gave a bemused scoff.

“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.

"No,"

Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 

"Guess who is?"

"Y-you~"

"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"

Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.

"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."

You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 

"Ugh God..."

His hands pawed at every bit of you.

"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"

Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 

For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.

You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"

"Heh?"

"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."

Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.

"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.

"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."

"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.

"Fuck, me..."

"S'what I'm saying."

Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 

Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.

A muted string of a confession leaves him, 

"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."

"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."

"Yeah?"

"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."

That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.

He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 

Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.

“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”

The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.

"Ready when you are~" 

The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 

Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 

"Atta girl~" 

You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 

Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 

“You got me?”

His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 

Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.

Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,

“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 

But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 

Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 

"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."

Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 

"You're on it-?"

"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 

Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 

"However you want me: inside or out~"

Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."

Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.

"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”

You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 

After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 

Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~

"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.

"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"

Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.

‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’

The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?

"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 

Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.

Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.

“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”

The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.

From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.

Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.

“Fun, right baby?”

Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.

“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”

Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 

“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”

Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.

“That it is…”

Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.

"You like me~" you taunted.

"huh?~~”

"Y’said you loved me..."

Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."

This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–

"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 

At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 

"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 

Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 

You laughed at the nature of it all. 

"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"

Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 

It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 

In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 

"Love you, angel.”

"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.

A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.

"Stay~~" 

Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.

"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 

Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 

He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 

When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 

He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 

You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,

"What, you cold?"

"Little bit~"

"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."

Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.

"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.

Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"

"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."

"We'll figure out the glove thing."

"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”

“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”

Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 

“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 

"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”

"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”

As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 

“I thought you were my dishwasher?”

Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”

“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”

“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”

You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.

This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.

But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 

You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–

When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,

"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 

You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.

What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.

Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.

"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."

You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.

With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...

[gghostwriter]

Have Your Cake

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer notices a change in you that he tries to address Trope: Comfort; Established relationship w.c: 1.8k Trigger warnings: tackles eating disorder and body dysmorphia a/n: this is a really hard topic I personally felt the need to write about (in a way to comfort myself.) Its very personal as I used my past eating disorder here so if its something you’re not comfortable with, please go skip ahead to another fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Spencer wrapped the front ends of his coat tighter on his slender body. It did little to no good fending off the cool seasonal air of an October night. His scuffled loafers squeaking from his shuffling feet. 

The line at your favorite bakery was unsurprisingly long on a Tuesday evening. Every night, the shop sells their remaining pastries at a discount To lure innocent commuters, tired from a long day of pushing papers. He usually wasn’t one to give in to the notion of ‘treating yourself’—unless counting out his big spendings on first editions written in its original language.

He gave the cashier a slight smile before listing off his purchase, one slice of their decadent strawberry shortcake and another of their vanilla bean sponge cake—both your favorites. And both an integral part of his perfectly thought of scheme to solve a riddle.

Your mystery.

In simple layman’s terms, they were bribery of some sort.

“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath, side stepping his way out from the throng of customers holding their own trays of pastries and back into the cold October air.

He blamed himself for not noticing the change in patterns early on. His attention otherwise preoccupied by the trauma from his time in prison and the stares that vary from judgement to pity that come from officers outside of the BAU.

No longer was he the shining, new prodigy once hailed to be, now he was just damaged goods. His downfall from grace was an adjustment.

His mind was another matter, all together—could no longer detect subtle shifts in behavior as fast as he used to.

Yes, there was really no one else to blame but himself.

As his long strides covered the way home, the moon shining down on the empty streets, Spencer thought back to the moment when he finally noticed you eating less and less.

———

You pulled down the cuffs of Spencer’s Caltech sweater, leaving only the tips of your fingers peeking through. Everything about it made you self-conscious. How it drapes down your shoulders differently from before. How it wraps around your body, sending shivers down your spine. And how it leaves the lower half of your plush thighs exposed for anyone to see—anyone to judge. 

You hated it.

You hated how hyper aware a single comment from a distant relative made you feel.

**

A voice from a distance called out your name causing you to look around the aisles of grocery and come face to face with an aunt, twice removed from your father’s side. 

“It is you!” She leaned in to kiss your cheek. Her choice of perfume, a sickly sweet artificial scent of oranges, wafting on your nose.

It made you want to gag.

A fake smile donned your face. “Oh, hi Auntie. What a surprise to see you back in Virginia.”

“Oh, I just flew in for my husband’s sister’s birthday. You know how we are, always booked and busy with events,” she waved her hand, the ostentatious diamond ring on her finger catching the light. “I haven’t seen you since you graduated college. You look so different now—more and more like your mother.”

“Thanks, I always did look like her,” you awkwardly laughed.

Her eyes traveled down to your feet and back up again, a tight grin on her face. It made her look vicious, condescending, causing you to catch your breath as she uttered the words that would repeat in your head like a commercial slogan you can’t get away from.

“But you were much prettier when you were thinner—” her eyebrow raised, cataloguing the items in your cart. “Might want to cut down on the carbs a little bit, sweetie.”

She poked a wound inside of you that never seemed to fully heal.

You thought you were better, all those years of talking to your therapist and changing your relationship with food for the better made you believe those dark days were behind you. But those spitting phrases veiled as words of care from a family member amplified the doubts once buried in the recesses of your mind.

“I’ll keep that in mind. It was great seeing you, Auntie.”

**

The jiggling of keys brought you back to the present.

“Love, I’m home!”

You called back from the kitchen, finishing up plating tonight’s dinner—a fresh serving of Chicken Alfredo to share. “In here, Spence!”

With a saccharine smile on his tired but beautiful face, he wrapped his arms around your shoulder for a loving hug. His pillowy lips leaving trails of kisses from your temples, to your nose, to your cheeks, and finally landing on your awaiting lips. 

You giggled at his antics. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” another peck on the lips. “Dinner looks amazing. Thank you for cooking.”

“It’s no problem at all, you know how much I like to cook for you.”

He brought up a mystery package to showcase, eyes tracking every minuscule change on your face. “And I brought us some dessert! Your favorites from the bakery.” 

The smile on your face threatened to drop. “That’s—that’s great!”

———

You felt Spencer’s eyes on you all throughout dinner. One of the disadvantages of dating a man who earns his living by understanding human behavior and its changes—triggers, as he would like to call it, is never having the leisure of keeping a secret.

He means well, you‘d like to believe so, but that didn’t change the fact he knew something was bothering you. 

It made you feel like a riddle he wanted to solve. It made you want to scream and cry.

The only reprieve you could get was within the little confines of your shared bathroom, water beating down your back muffling the sobs that escaped from your tightly pressed lips.

Everything felt too much. 

The devil voices in your head listing off the calories each spoonful contains. The mathematical equation of how long you’d need to exercise to lose every unnecessary bite eaten over dinner. And the facade of keeping everything together—everything perfect.

You picked off the sides of your nails, already raw and starting to bleed. 

Maybe you shouldn’t eat breakfast and lunch tomorrow. Maybe you should walk the 15 minute commute from here to the office. It would take 30 minutes but that’s additional exerc—

“Love, is everything alright?” Spencer asked behind the locked bathroom door. 

You turned, turning off the shower, before hurriedly toweling off the droplets all over your hair and body. “Yes, I’m—I’m almost done!”

Swiveling around the dry area, you realized you forgot to bring in a change of clothes beyond a clean pair of underwear.

You sighed to yourself as you wrapped the towel around your chest. Still feeling uncomfortable and oddly naked even then. 

“Spence, there’s still some hot water left—are you okay?” You ask, having found him sitting on the edge of the bed with a distinct frown on his face. 

He stood up. Hands on your waist, shuffling both your bodies closer to one corner of bedroom.“It’s just—you know how much I deeply care for you, right?”

You slowly answered. “Yes, of course. I deeply care for you too.”

“So I have to ask, are you alright? Really alright?”

“Wha—what do you mean? Of course, I am—I’m completely fine,” you vehemently denied. The lump on your throat making you sound hysterical, even in your ears. If you couldn’t fool yourself, what chances were there that Spencer was fooled—none.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been eating smaller portions lately and you didn’t even take a bite of the cakes I brought home. You’ve also been going to the gym daily, instead of your usual five times a week. And you’ve started wearing my clothes more—not that it’s a problem. I love seeing you in my clothes but you’ve started to prefer baggy silhouettes rather than your usuals. It’s like you’re hiding your body. Are you sure you’re alright? You can tell me anything, I won’t judge.” 

It was the soft tone in his voice mixed with his doe, teary eyes that caused you to break under pressure. Your shoulders shook as sobs that you’ve kept bottled up rose to the surface. It was a wave of emotions that battered through your dam of facade. 

“I hate how I look—I hate that I gained weight,” you cried out. “I hate how a relative pointed it out and how her words won’t leave my mind. I hate it, Spence. I loathe it all—the voices in my head whispering how I should keep track of every meal I eat in a notebook like I did before. Telling me to never go beyond a 800 calories per day, to workout two hours a day twice! It’s just—” you took a deep breath, vision blurring from tears. “—so exhausting and please, make it stop.”

Spencer hugged you tight to his chest, as if wanting to merge you two as one to take away all your pain and sorrow. Your hands creasing his white button down with a grip so tight. 

For a second, it felt liberating to let it all out. But the fleeting emotion had passed, leaving you with only shame from your admittance.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way,” he detangled himself, enough to stare into your eyes. “Love, can I show you something?”

You nodded. He slowly turned you around, back against his chest, to face the full length mirror tucked in the corner. His eyes never leaving yours as his calloused fingers reached up to the tucked ends of the towel wrapped around your body. He tilted his head, asking for your permission to which you slowly nodded.

Your naked body was in full view. Your nails digging onto your palm as you catalogued every minuscule flaw there is—the additional flesh around your stomach and sides and your hips no longer as thin as they were before.

“Do you know what I see?” He softly asked.

You bit your lip before shutting your eyes close, unable to take what was right in front of you. “Me and how I gained weight?”

He placed a kiss on your temple. “No. I see a beautiful adult woman who has curves in all the right places—”

He laid a kiss on your cheek. “I see the love of my life in her full loving glory—”

He kissed the side of your neck. “I see my future wife who loves herself and all the changes that aging and our slowing metabolism entails—”

He placed one last kiss on your shoulder. “—I see you, and I love every piece of you. And I hope you love every part as much as I do.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[mint-fixates]

There's so many new ppl in the fandom right now I felt the need to remind everyone of The Before Times (the Early-to-Mid 2010s Gravity Falls Fandom Experience™:)

• Mystery Kids and that sickass fanmade animation/storyboard of it. By extension, Parapines (Dipper x Norman from Paranorman) being a super popular ship

• Depravity Falls

• Reverse Falls

• Ask blogs for all of the above things

• When we all thought Stanley was Stanford and Stanford was Stanley (or thought the Stan Twin Theory was too far-fetched/wasn't real)

• The fandom-wide debate of whether Stan said "*I* have them all" or "*WE* have them all"

• People genuinely thinking Stan was secretly evil

• People genuinely thinking McGucket was the Author

• People thinking Bill was just a mischievous, chaotic neutral trickster with no evil intent

• People thinking Dipper was possessed by Bill during Not What He Seems

• People somehow predicting that Pacifica was the llama on the zodiac wheel as early as 2012 even though it made no sense until Weirdmageddon????

• Billdip & Mabill.

• PINECEST. EVERYWHERE. YOU COULD NOT ESCAPE IT.

• Mystery Trio (Stanford, Stanley, and Fiddleford)

• the "please draw Pacifica with a grocery cart full of Wonderbread" creep bothering EVERY. SINGLE. ARTIST. IN. THE. FANDOM.

• The fandom-wide meme of everyone making ironic Billford AMVs set to early 2000s-2010s breakup songs out of the same like. Four clips after The Last Mabelcorn released

[blorb-el]

happy pride as a present here is a non-exhaustive compilation of ways precrisis clark has carted bruce around from the 50s to the 80s. sources and artists under readmore

[row 1] it's the early days, perhaps they're not comfortable yet with pda: wf 108, 1960, pencils dick sprang, inks sheldon moldoff well they sure got over that fast: wf 118, 1961, artists same as prev strong arms to show off husband and son: wf 135, 1963, artists same as prev

[row 2] belt hold: wf 80, 1956, pencils dick sprang, inks stan kaye cheek to cheek: wf 251, 1978, pencils george tuska, inks vince colletta, colors jerry serpe burrito: wf 172, 1967, pencils curt swan, inks george klein

[row 3] kitten scruffed: justice league of america 144, 1977, pencils dick dillin, inks frank mclaughlin, colors anthony tollin third wheeling: justice league of america 144, same as above like a sack of groceries: wf 257, 1979, pencils dick dillin, inks frank mclaughlin, colors gene d'angelo

[row 4] bridal, manila bruce style: wf 128, 1962, pencils and ink by jim mooney bridal batman style: wf 281, 1982, pencils irv novick, inks frank chiaramonte, colors carl gafford instinctive bridal catch: wf 266, 1981, pencils rich buckler, inks bob smith, colors gene d'angelo

[row 5] clarks hand is Where: wf 267, 1981, pencils rich buckler, inks dick giordano, colors gene d'angelo bruce has been mind controlled and given superpowers and they're.....'wrestling': wf 109, 1960, pencils curt swan, inks stan kaye piggyback ride: wf 224, 1974, pencils dick dillin, inks vince colletta [should be noted that this one is in an elseworlds...kind of, however this is indeed bruce and clark, as opposed to bruce jr. and clark jr., their sons who look exactly like them]

[row 6] this is just like picking up a kitty cat: wf 253, 1978, kurt schaffenberger, inks frank chiaramonte, colors gene d'angelo disgruntled burrito: wf 251, 1978, pencils george tuska, inks vince colletta, colors jerry serpe i have to hold you closely it's aerodynamic: wf 277, 1982, pencils don heck, inks romeo tanghal, colors gene d'angelo

[row 7] their toesies are in sync: wf 266, 1981, same as row 4 picture 3 kinda gone beyond burritoing into kidnapping: wf 272, 1981, pencils rich buckler, inks joe giella, colors gene d'angelo clark kneeing bruce: wf 266, same as the first one in this row

[row 8] bruce rolling over midflight in order to look clark in the eyes as he talks about running away from a mysterious ~feeling: wf 285, pencils rich buckler, inks sam de la rosa, colors gene d'angelo wrapping up his disgruntled husband in his cape like a blankie: wf 245, 1977, pencils curt swan, inks murphy anderson, colors jerry serpe

[row 9] actually this is a costume swap and bruce is carrying clark: wf 71, 1954, pencils curt swan, inks stan kaye carting off his civilian husband and son: wf 243, 1977, pencils curt swan, inks al milgrom, colors jerry serpe

bonus for clicking on the readmore; depowered clark getting... carried??? by bruce. they have beards because they are in caveman times but also they're on an alien planet don't worry about it. wf 138, 1963, pencils and inks by jim mooney

[bentothuglife]

Me, hyperaware of how long it's taking to pack these groceries, grovelling to the people behind me: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's true, I shouldn't be allowed to do this by myself, but there's no one else. There's no one else

[sage-nebula]

Neat Lore Bits from 'The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog'

I just wanted to make a little list of everything I come across as I play through this little April Fool's Day game, because it's super cute and so much fun.

— Tails always carries Sparkle Gelatin as a snack whenever he travels. It's "a sparkly jelly that can melt any jaded heart."

— Sonic is world renowned, but not necessarily recognizable by the average person, even if the average person knows who he is and what he did.

— Amy is a huge fan of true crime podcasts.

— Once when Tails was at the grocery store, he slipped on some spilled juice because there wasn't a wet floor sign. Sonic caught him . . . but then also slipped on the juice because he was running too fast, and they both crashed into an elderly shopper's cart.

— Not lore per se, but both the detective and the journalist can't be the murderer or victim of the murder mystery, and got to hang out together for the hour before the game starts. Amy picked Tails to be the detective to her journalist, meaning she wanted to spend that time with him. Awww, Sunset Squad 4 Life 💖🧡

— Blaze prefers the birthday cake in Sonic's dimension to the cake in her own.

— Amy has multiple Piko Piko Hammers for different uses. She carries a lighter one when she thinks she won't need one for the day.

— Shadow is familiar with Super Monkey Ball, but can't get a very high score on it. Also, he signs high score boards as ULTIM (for Ultimate Life Form)

— Knuckles is not used to receiving compliments; they make him blush.

— Knuckles is a sore loser and breaks game cabinets when he can't get the highest score.

— Omochao is wanted for medical malpractice.

— Eggman has written a combined autobiography and recipe book.

— Tails claims to have never played in casinos and to not know how to play card games despite stating that he is banned from casinos for counting cards in Sonic Heroes. Either Sega has decided to retcon Tails' gambling habits, or Tails doesn't like to share his gambling habits with strangers.

— Amy's favorite band is Hot Honey, and Hot Honey band member Jeremy Bee is her current favorite musician.

— Shadow is not good with computers.

— Espio is fluent in 17 languages.

— Espio once speed-read a book just to spoil the ending for Knuckles.

— Sonic believes in the "salt over the shoulder" superstition.

— Sage the A.I. likes to play with robots.

— Shadow likes chocolate cake.

— Sage the A.I. and Metal Sonic have "let's go dad" t-shirts.

— Eggman has rubber ducks that look like himself and Sonic; they are the angry rubber duck and the happy rubber duck respectively.

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ ONLY FOR YOU .ᐟ — gojo satoru

your new roommate is all sorts of mysterious. the biggest one of all? the fact that he keeps trying for you even when it seems like you won’t budge. (or, satoru’s preposterous attempts at getting you to date him.)

gojo satoru x female reader. content tags runaway!gojo, modern au, also roommate gojo, they’re both about mid-twenties here, mentions of periods. word count 2.5k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ do not perceive me </3 haha with the state of jjk manga i just wanted some happiness so have some gojo !! this was random and came completely out of nowhere :’) anyway hope you guys enjoy <3

six months after moving into an apartment in the city, your haphazard living quarters (haphazard mostly because the previous tenants had zero interior design sense) has nearly turned into your dream home.

new furniture litters every square feet, the old ones all tossed out. your living room spots a fresh new rug—black and white, thick and furry. the new coffee table is made of glass, magazines and newspapers filling up the space underneath. the couch has been upgraded to a dark leather, oozing a sense of old money somehow.

it’s not just your living room, your bedroom too spots some new upgrades. the single bed has been upgraded to a queen size, new vanity perpendicular to the study desk and your new wardrobe as high as the ceiling itself.

all minimalistic and black and whites and beiges, a far cry from the old and dreary dark blue walls that seem to evoke a sense of dread in you.

of course, while you’d like to claim the credit for yourself, your roommate played a much bigger part in all of this redecorating. he paid for most of it, after all.

“remind me again, satoru, how do you have this much money when you don’t even work?”

satoru stands beside you, having followed your line of sight as the both of you finally finished redecorating the house. he’s standing tall and proud too, like he’s pleased with himself because he knows you like what he’s thought up of here.

a six-foot-three human of godly proportions with the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen. too bad he’s managed to annoy you the moment he first step foot in the apartment.

he turns to look at you, a wink in your direction before that shit-eating grin and a “it’s a secret” being all he offers.

you roll your eyes. “whatever, satoru,” you shrug it off, slumping down on your new leather seats.

he opts to sit right beside you despite the sofa being the width of your entire living room. he’s annoying like that, always up in your space, has to make himself known—he’s been like this ever since he first moved in.

sometimes he makes you question your decision of having a roommate.

“hey y/n, i wanna ask you something!”

you sigh, in the exasperated non-friendly way and glare at satoru, who’s beaming from ear to ear, because every single time he says that, he’ll ask you some ridiculous question.

the last time he did was a few days ago, when he asked about your period cycle, and when you hit him with the pillow, he’d pouted and said, “hey, i just thought i could help you buy some during your time if i ever dropped by the store!”

(which is funny considering how the first time you went grocery shopping together he looked like a kid on a sugar rush, dumping only—and only—sweets and pastries into the shopping cart.)

“do i get to say no?”

“nope!” and he still has that happy lilt to his voice.

“why do i even bother with you, satoru?” you rub your temples before resigning yourself to look at him with a straight face.

satoru shifts his position so he’s leaning on his side, watching you dreamily. it’s such a crime that he looks like that—it’s so easy for him to make hearts melt. “do you have a boyfriend?”

he nearly makes you choke on nothing. as much as you want to manoeuvre out of such talk with him, you know that you’re just signing up for a much longer conversation with him if you don’t just give him a straight answer.

“no,” you say, contemplating just stopping there, but then again, you don’t want him to get any ideas. “and i’m not looking for one, satoru.”

right on cue, he pouts. but somehow, something tells you he expected your answer already. “but you don’t have one, so i can try,” he says, as if to affirm the idea to himself.

“yeah you can try, but i’ll keep saying no, satoru, so don’t even bother.” you’re trying your best to get him not to even try, but satoru’s optimism is probably one of the strongest things to exist on this earth.

after a continuous fifteen minutes of you insisting that the more he tries, the more it’d turn you off, you thought you’d gotten through to him.

until one week later when he proves all your efforts were for naught.

he shows up at the lobby of your company building, looking all dashing and everything like a modern prince charming would, leaning against the hood of his car while he scrolls through his phone, evidently waiting for you because you’ve decided to ignore all his questions for the past two hours (of which all were trying to get you to tell him what time you get off work).

thanks to his little stunt (showing up at your workplace and basically forcing you to ride with him or else he’ll make an even bigger display of affection), everyone at the office now thinks you’re already dating that tall dreamy man, or that you’re crazy not to.

after you say you’re still not interested, he’s moved on to other forms of… seduction.

one night, you go home to see him in just his sweats, cooking dinner and to top it off, it’s your favourite dish.

you scoff in disbelief, flinging your purse down onto the dining table. (a variation of light oak you both agreed would look good with everything else.) “satoru, what is this?”

he turns around, abs on full display as he acts coy. the spatula in his right hand turning a circle as he shrugs. “what do you mean? just cooking some dinner, want some?”

oh, you’ll get him for this. you don’t know how, but one day you will. he’s taken everything you said you liked about a contestant on a dating show and is currently trying to embody everything he is just to tempt you into dating him.

(it’s unfair that you somehow think satoru is much more handsome than anyone on tv, but you’re never going to tell him that. never.)

“satoru.”

(your tone is nearly akin to that which his mother often used on him when he was young. you’re kind of scary sometimes.)

his disinterested expression eases into an easy smirk, his lower back leaning against the counter. “oooh, you’re so hot when you’re all angry, babe.”

“i’m not your babe and the answer is still no!”

(he ends up burning whatever he was trying to cook because he was too busy turning his attention to you.)

the next time he tries, he’s sending you bouquets of flowers to you. at your workplace, right in full view of everyone including your bosses, who all seem to be so interested in your love life now. especially when what they’re reading are things like “can’t wait to see you when you get home, miss you ♡”.

so now the entire office thinks you live with your boyfriend and rumours have spread that you’re going to get married soon. how on earth that second part got out of hand you have no idea.

now everyday when you get home, he has something for you. it varies from time to time, and they range from food to high-end jewellery. he keeps trying to play a game of hit or miss, trying to gauge by your expressions every time he gives you his gift, trying to decide whether you like it or not.

three months later, you can safely say he has your food preferences nailed. as for everything else, like fashion and accessories, there’s more to be said. you didn’t want to accept all his gifts, especially not when you’re going to hate yourself for possibly leading him on, but satoru has never been one to take no for an answer. ever since the day you first met him really, when he only insists on you calling him by his first name and refuses to tell you his last. (yet he wants to know everything about you.)

satoru’s infuriating.

“you know, you keep doing all this without knowing whether i’ll ever say yes, or whether or not i’m taking advantage of you, why won’t you stop?” you ask when you get home one day, tired as shit because an important (yet unreasonable) client has taken the opportunity to shit on you earlier today for things that they failed to do.

it makes you wonder whether satoru ever thinks the same about you; whether you’re an asshole for just… being the way you are.

he tilts his head to the side, the gift in his hand, inside a pretty paper bag, falling to his side as he thinks. “nah, you’re not like that.”

“like what?”

“whatever bad thing you’re thinking about yourself,” satoru decides, moving forward to ruffle your hair. usually you move away, but this time you let him.

“and how are you so sure?”

he pouts a little, as if it’s a disappointment you don’t already know. “i dunno what you’re thinking about, but i happen to like you. a lot.”

“satoru, you barely know me.”

“maybe. but i at least know you’re independent though, you always like to get shit done yourself and you do it all well. and i like the way you work hard, even after you get back home. and you always feed the stray cats outside our apartment, that’s why you hate it when you get off work late.”

there’s a lot of things satoru notices that you probably don’t know about. and here you are, thinking he’s just doing all this for the heck of it. still, it’s an awkward topic that you’re not sure how to continue.

“that’s it?” you mumble sheepishly, averting your gaze.

satoru grins, eyes forming cute little half moons. “want me to say more? i have more, how about—”

“okay you can shut up now!” you exclaim, lunging forward to cover his mouth with your hands, though all that does is give him a reason to shoot you his signature shit-eating grin.

“icanshwotallygibyoumorereasonswhy—”

you yank your hands away, realising it does nothing to actually shut him up.

“i like you,” he finishes. still grinning. still proud of himself. still holding your new gift in his hand.

and maybe it’s the way he’s trying relentlessly, tirelessly, even in the face of all your rejections. or maybe it’s the way you notice that he’s trying, earnestly. because honestly? you don’t know what you can offer him. he seems to do just well enough by himself. and with looks like that? you don’t doubt he can attract some powerful socialites if he wants.

or perhaps it’s the way he’s prattling on about how he saw you using up your planner pages already that one time you were perched on the balcony area doing your work that he’s shamelessly now praising himself for getting you more pages because the last time, you said to stop it with the super expensive gifts.

“i think i’m a pretty good listener—”

“okay, satoru,” you concede, a ghost of a smirk tugging the corners of your lips.

satoru blinks like an idiot, like he’s a deer caught in the headlights, because he can’t believe what you just implied.

“okaaaay as in…” he trails off for a moment, his confusion quickly giving way to a full-on grin, the widest you’ve ever seen on him. “y/n, are you my girlfriend now?”

you hold your pointer finger up and tut him, shaking it back and forth trying not to get him to jump the gun. it’s barely been a minute since you agreed and you can already tell he’s going to be a handful.

“we’re not together—”

“yet,” he corrects you, always the eager one. still grinning, still staring at you dreamily, white lashes and blue eyes the bane of your existence.

you sigh, deciding not to reiterate that. “but i’ll go on a few dates with you, satoru. then by the end of it, you’ll see why we won’t work out.”

that doesn’t dampen his spirits—and at this point, you doubt anything ever will. this time, he’s the one shaking his index finger. “or, you’ll wonder where i’ve been your whole life.”

“perhaps. but maybe because i wanted to murder you.”

satoru hums as if he’s pondering it, then shakes his head. “nah, because you’d curse that we didn’t have more time together,” he says, sticking his tongue out.

he may act like a child in a grown man’s body, and more often than not, you may lament internally that he’s annoying and doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, but right now, the way his cheeky expression slowly fades into a genuine smile, the way his big hand comes up to your cheek to caress your face, the way his beautiful blue eyes fall to gaze at your lips—you get the hint that satoru’s dangerous.

dangerous because it might be so easy to fall for him, and maybe next time, before you know it, you’ll love him.

for now, it’s enough for you to absorb, and so you bail first before satoru gets to kiss you on the lips.

“dinner saturday, eight?” he calls after you, and you can just make out his smirk even when you’re not looking at him.

you’re still bounding down the hallway to your room. “whatever, you’re paying, satoru,” you declare back to him, realising you’re still flustered from how close he was back there.

“aw, love you too, babe!”

“oh my god, satoru i hate you,” you groan as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

still, behind closed doors, you can hear him chuckling. “i’ll make you fall for me one day, y/n.”

you don’t understand why, but your knees grow weak, and you fall to the floor clutching your purse in your hands. satoru’s charming and handsome and he’s probably everything you dreamed that prince charming would be.

but you also know how easily romance can ruin you.

so why, for the first time in years, do you feel your heart skipping beats and a genuine excited smile forming on your face?

you fish your phone out when you feel the vibration and realise it’s a text from satoru. never one for any type of space, really.

i’ll take care of you, don’t worry. 🫡

you laugh at his use of the emoji, and for the first time, you feel yourself so easily warming up to someone. deciding to throw him a bone tonight, you text him back.

in his room, satoru smiles to himself as he reads your message.

i’m in your hands, then. 🫡

he’s let a lot of people down recently. but you? no, he doesn’t ever want to let you down. for the first time in his life, he’s wondering if this is what love feels like.

[hai7ani]

familiar / haitani rindou

Haitani Rindou turns 32, gets married, and he silently wonders why people are so nice to him now.

the old retired ladies promoting milk powders and selling fresh fruits in the grocery store rushes up to him at any chance they get. one time when browsing for milk formulas one of them had tapped him on the shoulder, pointed at a brand she was not promoting for but thought was amazing when her own grandchild had tried it, and then placed a bunch of other stuff in his cart that she thinks his wife would need. an example would be containers of freshly cut mixed fruits that her colleague had just prepared. you remember him telling you that her tone was a lot more different than the average grocery store promoter trying to sell you a product ー it was almost as if she was talking to her own son.

when shopping for flowers just like he does every Sunday suddenly the part-timer who is usually silent, does her job and only responds to customers' needs had stepped up to him and pointed out a few selections that she believes are lovely for expecting parents. she was even smiling when doing so. and you remember he came home to you that day with two bouquets of fresh flowers ー chrysanthemum and baby's breath ー one in each hand.

today when taking you out for dinner in the local family-owned restaurant the daughter had served you a warm bowl of beef bone soup. neither of you had ordered it for yourselves, and you were about to tell her that, but her mother speaks before you can. "drink it, love. the soup is good for you." she yells a little from where she sits at the cashier with a grin. when Rindou stands to pay after finishing up her husband then refuses to take your bill for the night. "it's okay, son. dinner's on the house this time." he pats his shoulder and pushes you both out the door. "take care, you two. the next time you come i'll cook tofu for you, alright?" it was directed to you and you'd laughed, a little embarrassed but feeling warm and fuzzy nonetheless.

and now you are listening to your own husband ramble on and on about his new mysteries while he massages your feet on the couch.

"i seriously don't get it. i've been going to these places for years now and they were never this nice to us. i mean, they are nice, but never this nice, you know? it's the first time we've ever gotten a free meal from Kobayashi's."

we. us.

you brush his hair back, admiring the light wrinkles that have started to form on his skin. "that's exactly it, don't you think?" you bring it up and he hums in confusion.

"perhaps the reason why they've been so nice lately is exactly because you've been going to these places for years now. they know you."

"huh?"

"if you think about it, they've watched you go from an ordinary man to a husband, then a father. watched you bring a girl they've never seen before to these places more often and suddenly we go together all the time, you have a ring on your finger and i am pregnant. perhaps it is why. a sense of familiarity, maybe?"

Rindou looks at you as if you are love and warmth and everything pink and red and blue and purple and-

you are right, actually. you'd went from a girl he met at a bar to becoming the love of his life, the woman who is now carrying the love you both share. and the ladies at the grocery store, the Kobayashi's, the part timer who's been around even after graduating university years ago? they've all watched him grow.

when Rindou was 17 and had gotten ambushed by a rival gang alone, it was madam Kobayashi who'd ushered him into their store way past the last call and offered to cook him a nice meal, had her medical student son patch him up, her husband to chase away the remaining guys who were waiting for Rindou to come back out. her daughter had been about Rindou's age then, hiding behind the cashier and watching as he ate in silence with a cut to his lip, another on his eyebrow. (to this day still no one except for you, her, and him, knows that the reason he'd gotten ambushed that day was because he'd stood up for miss Kobayashi when she was getting bullied by one of the delinquents. she still thanks him for what he'd done whenever you both finish up your meal and get ready to leave.) Rindou was 17 when he'd first discovered what it was like to care for people; to be a human before anything else.

the two ladies from the grocery store wasn't yet retired and working this job back then. the promoter lady used to be the janitor who was working in the office building of his first job. she'd watched him gone through periods of unknowing, confusion, stress, to become a solid man of status today. the lady who is selling fruits used to work as a professional tutor and had been the one to tutor Rindou and his brother on Mathematics. although she is mute and can't respond in words when her students have confusing questions to ask, the brothers still thought of her as a good teacher because of the way she taught, which is why they'd stuck around and refused to switch teachers despite their parents' disapproval. because she is mute, she can only count on her colleague to dump containers of freshly cut fruits into his cart while motioning for her to tell him things that she actually wants to say to him whenever he visits the store.

the part timer at the florist is a lot younger than he is, but she have been working there for a very long time. watched him when he was still an inexperienced bachelor pacing around the store wondering which flower would be good on a first date to buying the same flowers every Sunday because you'd liked the lilies that she recommended.

it'd be heartwarming for anyone to see the boy you watch grow around love, into love, finding love, to marrying her and becoming a father.

"...yeah. maybe."

[r0se1111]

can i get uhhhhhh domestic life in retirement with Ford where we grow old(er) together please and thank youuuuuu 🙏

Yessss >o<

Guys he's sooo domestic-husband-coded you don't understand....

OKok so. Keeping with canon, I do think Stan and Ford still go on their brother boat adventure™️ even with you in the picture, and you kinda hang out at the Mystery Shack for a bit. You help keep things afloat while they're gone etc etc. BUT of course this man calls home whenever he's on land and had access to a phone. He also writes you letters with drawings, photos, and little souvenirs of his travels.

When he returns you are soso happy to see him and he gives you a very cliched swept off your feet kiss. He tells you he's a bit out-adventured for a bit and just wants to stay at home with you for a bit and make up for those lost 30 years.

Get ready for the most wonderful cozy warm domestic bliss you've ever experienced. Waking up in the morning to his fluffy hair all askew as he blinks at you, smiling and calling you beautiful despite not being able to see a thing without his glasses. Stealing all his sweaters (including the turtleneck) to combat the cold pacific northwest mornings and nights. You take turns making coffee for each other in the morning, and on days where you have plans and really need some food in you, he makes his pancakes (a recipe he's been perfecting since he's been back. He loves you, but no he won't tell you what's in them).

Omg you guys sometimes have a little breakfast in bed moment and geez you're so old (affectionate). Him in his glasses, you with your hair all messy, both of you bundled in robes as you read together to get the sleepy groggy cobwebs out of your eyes and heads. Sitting side by side in bed with your breakfast trays and digging in while chatting about whatever.

He insists on still getting a physical morning paper, so most of these mornings are spent sitting at the dining table with coffee and waffles, your feet propped up on his lap as he fills out a crossword puzzle in record time with one hand and rubs your feet and calves with the other.

Gosh you guys are attached at the hip at this point in your lives. Grocery shopping? He's there pushing the cart as you meticulously scan shelves for all you need, occasionally piping up with his own personal preferences on pasta sauce brand or validity of certain buy 2 get 1 half off coupons. Quick stop at the mall? He waits dutifully outside the changing room, ready to give you glowing reviews of whatever you're trying on and holding up his own suggestions with a smile and a quick "this color would look wonderful with your undertones dear!" Yes he's color analyzed you

He's so helpful and genuine in his excitement to do these mundane tasks with you. One night he admits when times got hard during his interdimensional travels, he would daydream about just going to do laundry with you at a dingy coin-operated joint, sitting on the counter next to you and watching your clothes swirl round and round, intertwining with each other until you couldn't tell where his started and yours ended.

Your evenings are either spent on a date or making dinner at your place. If it's a date, he will have asked you out in advance and you better believe he's bringing you flowers or wine or chocolate or something cheesy like that. If you guys decide to stay in, you scan old cookbooks for something tasty sounding and dance around each other in matching "kiss the cook" aprons while one of you prepares a side and the other sets the table. Neither of you resist the temptation of kissing the other cook (ba-dum-tss) or of darting a tongue out mid-kiss to taste your partner's progress on their glaze or sauce.

Ford still is getting used to the idea of sharing a bed with you, but in a very sweetly nervous way. He knows his sleep schedule is a bit messed up still and he really doesn't want to worry or bother you. Some nights you fall asleep and wake up to him passed out on his desk with about 4 mugs of coffee surrounding him. On lucky (and increasingly more common) nights, he sleeps in bed with you. How he's so warm you have no idea, but you're not about to complain when he pulls you against him and rubs his hands down your arms and hips, all the while rambling about some documentary he'd watched that day which "you would really have found so fascinating, love." His clear and calm voice normally lulls you to sleep, but if he's unintentionally keeping you up with his roundabout descriptions, this is easily remedied with a kiss.

A kiss anywhere really, from as innocent to his forehead (you gently push back the stormcloud of his hair to press your lips as close to his wonderful mind as they can get) to something more suggestive like his neck or chest (left deliciously exposed in those relaxed V-necks you'd bought him one Christmas, a completely unselfish gift, might you add) is enough to get Ford to pause and glance over at you with a sort of are we gonna...???;) look. Whether you do or don't, any sort of physical affection is enough to have him sleepy soon. The two of you curl together, sharing breath for how close you are. And every night he gets to hold you like this and think about your wonderfully mundane and predictable lives, Ford thanks whatever higher power that put you into his life that he's back, and that you're his.

[leighsartworks216]

Angel, Please

Zayne x gn!Reader

Went shopping with my roommate thinking it would be really quick, and then spent like an hour in there just pushing the cart for them and losing all energy and ability to think. This is the result of that

Title is from the song "Angel, Please" by Ra Ra Riot

Warnings: sensory overload, anxiety, avoiding a mental breakdown, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2,103

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You stare down at the shopping list in your hand, written in a mix of handwriting. Some items listed were written down by Zayne, others were added by you. A culmination of a week or so worth of groceries. It’s harder to read the words than it should be.

You have milk, cereal… You look back and forth between your cart and the list, but you can’t connect the dots. Nothing is clicking together.

Milk. Check.

Cereal. Check.

Your skin feels uncomfortably hot and itchy, but you don’t take off your sweatshirt and you don’t scratch. Your chest is tight, and you can’t seem to get a deep enough breath in. You zone out while staring at the list, urging your body to get a hold of itself.

“Excuse me,” someone scoffs as they invade your space to reach for something on the shelf behind you. They give you a look, judgemental and cruel, and walk away with a huff. Their basket bumps your cart with a clang that makes you twitch.

God, could they please turn the music down? The lights down? You just- You just need everyone to disappear. You just need to disappear.

You bite your cheek long enough to suffer through a self-checkout. You rapidly scan whatever you do have - more than just milk and cereal, but you don’t even process them anymore - and pay as quickly as possible, conscious of the eyes of other waiting customers trying to check out boring into you, judging you, urging you to just fucking move already.

The cool autumn air doesn’t soothe you enough. You throw everything into the trunk of your car. The pavement of the parking lot vibrates your hands as you push the cart to the nearest return. You rub them on your sweatshirt desperately.

You have to keep it together. You can’t break down in a parking lot at a grocery store just because all of your senses were freaking out. You are a Hunter! You fight Wanderers! You put your life on the line every single day! Why are you losing it here of all places?!

Your hands shake as you find Zayne’s number. It connects to the bluetooth in your car and you pull out of the parking space.

Are you really 100% fit to drive? No. But you need to get away from here as soon as possible. As tempting as it would be to ask to be picked up, you don’t want to be a burden.

“Hello?”

You swallow thickly. Your hands rub restlessly at the steering wheel. “H-Hey.” You clear your throat. “Hey. I’m heading home now.”

“Are you alright?” Zayne asks.

You want to put your head on the wheel and cry. You feel pathetic.

“Did something happen?” You picture his frown. The way his eyes sharpen when he tries to pick apart a little mystery. You want him with you right now. “Please answer me.”

“I-I’m fine,” you answer quickly, a knee-jerk reaction to the question. You know you’re trying to convince yourself. You know he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Just… Just stay on the phone with me until I get back. Can you…? Am I bothering you?”

He hushes you softly through the phone. “You’re not bothering me, darling. I’ll stay with you.” You sigh shakily. His voice sounds so nice right now. Your left leg bounces restlessly. “What do you want to talk about?”

You scramble to think of anything. You anxiously wait for traffic to clear enough to let you turn out of the parking lot. Your mind is taking in too much and too little information at the same time. Cars are just colored shapes, but you know where every single light source is around you. They keychains hanging from the key in the ignition rubs your leg like someone is drawing fire across your skin with a paintbrush. You try batting them away, but the jingle grates in your ears like it’s been amplified.

You pull into the flow of traffic, at last.

“Why don’t we talk about that show you enjoy so much?” he offers carefully. “The one with the girl caught in a love triangle? What was her Evol again?”

“She…” You swallow and check your speed. As badly as you want to get home, you don’t want to get pulled over either. “She can feel other people’s emotions. And, and in one episode she changes them, too.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Does she feel the attraction from the other characters? The men from the love triangle. What are their names?”

“Joseph and,” you turn on your blinker and wait at the stop light, “Damien. She can, but she feels bad because she’s not interested in either of them. So she pretends she doesn’t feel it.”

“So if she’s not interested in the prospective love interests, who does she like?”

You slowly pull up as a yellow arrow blinks, waiting for a gap in traffic to pull through. Once you’re driving steadily again, you answer. “She has a crush on her bed friend in the show, Melina. It’s really sweet, actually. But Melina has no clue, even though Therese, the main girl, keeps hinting at it, because Melina thinks Therese is interested in Damien.”

“That would be a tricky situation to be in. Who do you think she’ll end up with by the end?”

You laugh, but it’s slightly airy and strained, like someone punched it out of you. “I hope she gets with Melina, obviously!” You turn your blinker on again at a stop sign and turn after a second. This road doesn’t get too busy. “There’s actually some hints that Joseph and Damien will end up together. Everyone online thinks they’re competing for Therese’s love to try hiding their own feelings for each other.”

He doesn’t respond for a second. “Are you almost home, darling?”

You blink, and just like that, you’ve been snapped back into your body, aware once more of your surroundings. You’re in the middle of pulling into the apartment’s parking lot. You don’t even remember the drive to get there. “Y-Yeah. I’m here, actually,” you murmur.

“Okay. I’ll meet you down there. Do you need me to stay on the phone until then?”

You fiddle with the keychains, considering it. Everything doesn’t feel so itchy anymore. Your eyes hurt, but it feels more like the sting of exhaustion. Your head still thuds with a headache, but the noises that fueled it before feel more bearable now. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Call me again if you need to. I’m on the way.”

The call ends and you turn off the car, pulling the keys from the ignition and holding them in your lap. You feel surreal, like your brain hasn’t quite caught up to your body now that it’s not screaming about every little thing. The parking lot outside your window doesn’t feel real. The bike you parked next to, your bike, feels out of place.

You groan and rest your head against the steering wheel, shutting your eyes tightly. Why can’t you just feel normal already?

A finger taps on the glass. You look up and watch as Zayne opens the door for you. “Are you alright?” he asks again.

You bite your tongue to avoid answering automatically. But the real answer eludes you. You don’t think you’re gonna freak out if your sweatshirt happens to brush your neck in a weird way, but you’re not exactly sure you could just calmly ignore it if it did happen either.

You slip out of the seat and out of the car. Zayne has that concerned look on his face, like you’ve just told him you haven’t slept for a week straight, but he doesn’t say anything, just shuts the door behind you.

He opens the trunk and begins gathering messily thrown-together bags of groceries. You grab one of the lighter ones that he leaves for you, and close the trunk. The car beeps when you hit the lock button on the fob.

Once you’re inside, you sit at the kitchen island and watch as he puts away everything you got. You find the crumpled list in your pocket. You have the clarity now to see just how many items you missed, including things you needed to make dinner tonight. You want to crumple yourself up into a ball like this paper.

Zayne’s hand comes into view as he slides the paper over to where he stands. He has a notepad and a pen, and he goes down the old list to write out what you missed.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer until he finishes the list, clicking the pen and setting it down. Then, his full attention is on you. “Can you tell me what happened now?”

You can’t meet his eyes. It’s hard enough admitting actual health issues to him, let alone stupid shit like this. Logically, you know he’s seen this happen to you before, know he wouldn’t think it’s stupid like you do. But it’s still difficult.

“I just got overwhelmed,” you mutter. You trace shapes into the marble countertop. “Everything was so loud and bright and… And I panicked, that’s all.”

“How do you feel now?”

You sigh and cross your arms on the counter, resting your chin on them. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m tired. But I’m not? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I’m in a dream. Nothing feels real right now.”

He hums in understanding. “I can think of several treatment plans that may help.” You finally look at him and he shoots you a wry grin. “First, I suggest you take some pain medication for your headache, before it gets any worse. After that, you have a few options. You can go take a nap or spend some time alone to decompress. You can put on your noise-cancelling headphones and listen to music or a podcast. Or we can watch that show you told me about, and I can make you some tea.”

“That’s a lot of choices, doc.”

“It’s in the patient’s best interests to have a lot of options,” he says. “You’re not beholden to any one choice.”

You look away as you think about it. What do you want right now? What do you need? “Can I mix and match?”

He nods. “Of course you can.”

“Tea sounds nice,” you start. “I don’t want to sleep right now, but I can listen to music, I think. But I just want to be with you.” You look at him again. “Is that alright?”

He smiles, answering you without words. Instead, he moves around the kitchen to fill a kettle with water and sets it on the stove. He disappears down the hall to retrieve two pills and your headphones, setting both on the counter in front of you. He fills a glass with some water for you to take the meds. You grab the headphones and slip them on, and head over to the couch to get comfortable. They connect to your phone once you turn them on. You scroll through your playlists for a while, but the more you look, the more unappealing it sounds to you.

Zayne comes in with a steaming mug of tea, prepared how he knows you like it. You hesitantly take off your headphones. “Actually, will you read to me?”

“What would you like to hear?”

You shrug. “Anything. I just want to hear your voice right now.”

He browses the bookshelf nearby. You set your headphones down and blow on the tea to cool it down. He slips one of the books out and carries it over to the couch. You curl into his side the second he’s sitting down.

The book is one of your favorites. You’ve never seen him read it before, but he’s seen you pull it out lots of times ever since you moved in together. You smile. A comfortable warmth emanates from your heart.

The paper slides gently from one side to the next as he turns the pages. It’s not grating. It doesn’t send shocks of discomfort through your body. You cradle the mug close as you rest your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes relax as you skim the familiar words. His shirt on your cheek isn’t scratchy at all. It’s nice and soft.

He begins reading and you close your eyes. You breathe in deep the cool scent of his cologne, the fresh smell of his body wash, the slightly bitter, rich essence of the tea.

You can relax here. You can exist here. This feels real.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope

[vaaaaaiolet]

“Tell me a story, please?” you add, hiding a smile under the edge of the blanket. A kiss is bestowed upon on your forehead and the cave opens for the night. Leon clears his throat theatrically. “This story is about a girl, and a boy who loved her very much.”

Leon keeps his best tales under lock and key, and you crack one out of him on a particularly sleepless night. He thinks you might like this one.

f / m, fluff sprinkled in with angst and emotional hurt, insomnia, grief + mourning, leon is a sweetheart he just loves you :(, he basically tells you a fairy tale before bed

word count: 1.6k // read on ao3

a/n: um. norman fucking rockwell, baby. if you catch the lyrics from "How to disappear", i love you. i wrote this fic like i was possessed 😭 nothing was planned

There aren’t any waves outside your landlocked bedroom window to lull you to sleep, but there is another ocean view you can think of. You turn to the other side of your pillow, biting your lip hopefully.

“Hi, sweetheart,” the view mumbles, ocean eyes groggy and losing the fight against sleep.

You’re in luck.

“Leon,” you whisper. 

“Mm.”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Don’t know why…you’re not tired,” he yawns, his blond lashes almost fluttering closed before snapping open at your wide-eyed expression, “when you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

You cram the comforter to your chin and flip to the other side of the bed with a groan. 

Leon chuckles, giving your shoulder a sleepy shake, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

He’s not sorry. But you relent anyway. 

“Tell me a story,” you mumble as he tucks you back in.

You brush a strand of hair across his forehead to unveil those ocean eyes again. They’re faded and tired, yes, but they’ve also seen more of the world than you could ever dream of. The only good thing to come out of Leon’s mysterious missions to the ends of the earth is the treasure trove of stories he brings back with him, like a Cave of Wonders, filled with only the best for you to unlock. You don’t know anything about the outside of that cave – he stops telling the story if you ask – and you’re not in any position to argue as the clock ticks closer to morning.

“What’s the magic word?” he nudges.

Is he really going all open sesame on you too?

“Tell me a story, please?” you add, hiding a smile under the edge of the blanket.  

A kiss is bestowed upon your forehead and the cave opens for the night. Leon clears his throat theatrically. 

“This story is about a girl, and a boy who loved her very much.”

“One thing you have to know before I start anything though, sweetheart, is that this girl was a spitfire. Completely unreasonable. She was the type to pack a grocery cart full of ice cream she swore was on discount only to have all of it be full price and melt in the checkout line.”

(“That was one time!”)

“Never said a thing about it being you, sweetheart, shh. You’re supposed to be trying to sleep. But either way, this girl couldn’t be you because she was a princess – a real pretty one at that. Sweet, smart and kind like little girls grow up wanting to be. She lived in a castle by the sea on an island in the middle of nowhere, and here’s what I heard about her on my last mission. You’ll like this one.

“Life on that island was as peaceful as you can get in a fairy tale. She had plenty of mermaids for friends and animals to keep her company, but you can’t help getting lonely after the years start passing by. The princess was stuck there, you see.”

(“How’d she get there to begin with?”)

“Uh-uh, you’re interrupting me.” Leon teases. “Story or no story?”

(“Story, please.”)

“Magic, alright? Say she got stolen away by some evil witch like Rapunzel did and her kidnapper drowned in the sea. I don’t know. But it didn’t really matter because that island became home after a while. A beautiful home, but lonely all the same. The mermaids all returned to their castle under the sea when the moon came up and the princess wished had somebody she could sleep next to when it got cold at night. 

“She was fond of stories too, like somebody else I know, and after all those years on that island, she’d read every book in the castle and longed for someone who could tell her something new. All she ever wished for on her birthday was a friend. ‘Just for a little bit’, she’d beg.”

Leon sucks in a careful breath.

“So one night, the ocean decided to send the princess a birthday present just like she asked. A magic tide deposited a little boat on the edge of her island, and when the princess woke up the next morning and looked outside her window, she saw something – or rather, somebody – slumped inside of that boat.”

(“And inside that boat was a prince?”)

“No prince. The princess made sure of it too, brave thing that she was, walking right up to the boat and taking a good look at who was sleeping inside of it. 

“The boy inside that boat was dead to the world with cuts on his face from fighting too hard. He gave the princess a good scare ‘cause he was so asleep she thought he was actually dead. When he woke up and asked ‘Who are you?’, she nearly punched him out of fright.”

(“You were right, I think I like her.”)

Leon laughs, bright and warm.

“But this boy was a real charmer, and the princess was kind, remember?”

(“Bummer.”) 

“She didn’t go around punching people out of nowhere. Especially not the first human she’d ever seen. Her curiosity got the best of her and she took the boy to her castle, where he told her he was a mercenary from a faraway kingdom. He’d been on his way to kill a rampaging sea monster when a mysterious wind blew his boat off course and right onto the princess’ island. 

“Over breakfast, the mercenary told her stories about monsters, jungles, fire-breathing dragons, stuff she’d only ever read about. She was entranced. The more he spoke, the more the princess wanted to see for herself even though she knew she couldn’t. She had to be smart about it.”

Leon swallows. He nestles the blanket around you a little tighter, like you’d slip out of his grasp, and continues.

“The boy was battered from the beating he took from his voyage, so the princess nursed him back to health. I told you she was stubborn, right? She wouldn’t take any of the gold or jewels he tried offering her from his travels. All she asked for was a new story each day he stayed with her. He agreed.

“The first week went by in a flash. The princess borrowed magic green herbs from her mermaid friends to heal the mercenary faster. The herbs made him strong enough to move mountains if he wanted to, so he pounded a couple to the ground outside her castle just to prove he could when she asked, and with the new space, the princess made him a place to stay. Turns out she was a great businesswoman; the boy spun tale after tale for her while she fixed a loneliness deep in his bones. Everything was perfect.”

(“Aww…”) 

“The boy stayed longer than he thought he would. His boat collected dust as that week turned into months. Those months grew into a year. The princess’ birthday rolled around again.”

(“Did they fall in love?”)

“They did, sweetheart.”

Leon chuckles softly.

“He ended up loving her a lot, and the princess loved him too, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not usually how it goes in fairy tales, is it? There’s a catch.”

You reach for Leon’s hand in the deep of the comforter, not remembering when he let go.

“Good sailors know not to mess with the ocean. It wasn’t too pleased with the princess keeping the boy to herself for more than just a little bit, not when he needed to get rid of that sea monster that had been killing millions of innocent people. So on the night of the princess’ birthday, the sea asked the boy to go back to being a mercenary. He needed to do his job and the princess wasn’t part of it.”

(“Tell me he stayed, Leon.”)

“Princess, I can’t-”

(“Make him stay.”)

And for the first time, Leon stutters because he never changes the story.

“A-Alright, so the boy stays. He tells the sea that he fell in love and can’t bear to leave the princess behind.”

(“And then?”)

“And then…and then he finds out he’s in over his head. The tide comes and goes, everything has to have a balance. He needed to go because he had to protect all those people, and he couldn’t do that by staying with the princess no matter how much he loved her, right?”

Lifting the blanket aside, Leon falls onto his back. You watch the ceiling fan blades spin in the dull sea-blue of his eyes. 

“The princess asked him to stay and he couldn’t say no to her. She meant well. She didn’t…she didn’t know. And they were happy together on that island until the boy’s decision caught up with him. The sea monster he was supposed to kill found their island one day, sweetheart.”

(“...Leon, no. That’s not supposed to happen.”)

“It’s how the story goes,” he murmurs, gently pressing his lips to yours.

You barely feel it; you taste saltwater in his kiss, feel it running down your face.

“But you changed it!” You’re crying, can’t find his hand. Where’d he go? He’s supposed to be here, you changed the stupid story, you have to make him stay. 

The ocean might not be outside your window, but you still see it behind glass as you prop yourself up on your elbows, heaving for breath only to find Leon’s framed picture sitting beside your pillow.

His eyes are so blue. Ghostly in the dark. 

You must have dropped it when sleep took you under. Your earbuds are still hooked up to a podcast in an earlier effort to bore yourself to sleep, but you don’t really want to hear about relaxing Zen gardens right now. Tugging everything out of your ears, your shaking finger opens the notes app. 

Right now, you’re in the mood for a story. A story with a happy ending where no one goes anywhere.

psst, find more of my work here!

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[togrowoldinv]

Meet Me At Midnight

College!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You invite Wanda to spend the holidays with you. Will your true feelings for each other be revealed?

Note: I can’t believe it’s almost new years. Enjoy this Wanda fic!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’ve casually known Wanda Maximoff for a few months now. You met her in your literature lecture. The girl seemed mysterious, but not in an off-putting way.

Wanda was assigned to be your project partner for the semester. Like typical college students, you two exchanged numbers that first day but didn’t think about working on the project until late in the semester.

She sent you a text a few weeks ago and the two of you began working on the final project. Upon working with her, you realized just how amazing she is. Her and her brother moved to America for college, that explains her enchanting accent.

By the end of the semester, you completed the project and presented it to your class. Wanda suggested celebrating your successful work with dinner. You agreed, and the two of you went out for dinner and drinks that night.

Somehow, the holidays were brought up, and Wanda told you she was not able to go home to celebrate. You asked her to come with you to your family Christmas. She was so excited to see a true American Christmas, and to not be alone.

It went by quickly. Your family took Wanda in and made her feel at home. The girl loved it so much that she decided to stay for the New Year’s celebrations as well. You take her to the grocery store with you to get last minute needs for the holiday.

“Wanda, do you want red or white wine for tonight?” You ask her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wanda says. She leans over you and places her chin on your shoulder. You like how affectionate she is with you. “Whatever you like best.”

“Come on, Max, you gotta pick some food and drinks out too, or my mom will be mad at me,” you tell her.

“Fineee,” she says cutely. “White. And can we get some of those chips I liked the other day?”

“Doritos?” You clarify.

“Yes, them!” Wanda says.

“We can get every flavor.”

Wanda smiles and you put the white wine in the cart before moving to the chip aisle. You stay true to your word and get every flavor of Doritos, even the taco ones. Wanda also picks out some candy and other snacks.

You buy decorations for New Years so that you can go all out for Wanda. You don’t typically go this big, but you want her first real celebration to be a special one. Streamers, hats, glasses with the year on them, and all of your dishware needs are in your cart by the time you leave the store.

Wanda is buzzing with excitement when you arrive home and begin to decorate. Your family helps make the food while you decorate with the girl. You stand on a chair and hang streamers from the ceiling.

“Wouldn’t this have been easier if I got up there?” Wanda asks. “I am taller.”

“No, I got this,” you say, but just as you do you lose your balance on the chair from standing on your tippy toes.

You begin to fall backwards but Wanda’s hands on your hips stop you. She helps you stand upright again.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Yeah, thank you,” you reply. Her hands remain on your hips, and she pats them softly, a silent gesture for you to get down from the chair.

“Let me finish for you,” Wanda says. She steps up in the chair.

You can’t help but watch as her sweater rises up as she hangs the decorations. Her perfect frame is distracting. You almost don’t hear her when she asks for a hand to help her down. Her soft hand rests in yours even after she is back on the ground.

“This looks amazing,” Wanda says.

“It really does,” you agree.

The two of you get swept away by your mother to help prepare food for the party. Time flies by and soon the guests begin to arrive. It’s mostly family friends, but a few of your friends from college are here too.

Wanda enjoys meeting everyone and hearing stories about you. You try to keep her away from your gossiping mother’s friends but it’s no use. They reel her in and tell her all about your child and teenage years.

“She seems great,” a voice interrupts your gaze on Wanda.

“Natasha, so good to see you!” You tell the woman.

“You too, y/n,” Nat says. She hugs you. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“Oh no,” you reply. “Just a friend from college.”

“Sure,” Nat says. “That’s why she’s staring daggers through me.”

“What?” You turn to see Wanda is staring at you and Natasha. There’s a look on her face that isn’t quite readable, but you can tell she’s unhappy.

You decide to walk to Wanda and steal her away from the gossipers.

“Hey, there’s some more people I’d like for you to meet,” you tell her. She nods and follows you back to where Nat is standing. “This is Natasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Natasha speaks to Wanda.

“You too,” Wanda replies a bit grumpily.

Another woman walks up behind Nat and wraps her arms around her. Wanda looks at you confusedly.

“And just in time Maria shows up,” you joke.

“I’ve been here,” she replies. “Just got a little distracted by the fondue.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Nat asks.

“Maria, this is Wanda,” you say.

“Great to meet you, Wanda,” Maria says. “You’ve got a good one here.”

“Oh, it’s not-” you begin but Wanda interrupts you.

“Thank you,” she says, placing her hand in yours.

Nat and Maria get pulled away, leaving you and Wanda standing there together. She still has her hand in yours.

“Are you alright?” You ask Wanda.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She drops your hand.

“Okay. Let’s just go get a drink,” you suggest.

For the rest of the night, Wanda seems to have shaken off her weird jealousy of you and Natasha. Or really you and anyone that’s not her. But when it’s five minutes until midnight you can’t find her anywhere.

“Wanda?” You call up the stairs, thinking maybe she went to your room. You get no response but go upstairs anyways.

She is sitting on your bed when you arrive. Four minutes until midnight.

“Hey, what are you doing up here? The ball is about to drop,” you say.

“I just needed a minute,” she says.

“Right, okay. I’m sorry. I know that my family and friends can be a lot.”

“It’s not that,” she says. “Well it is, but it’s not.”

You close the door behind you and sit next to Wanda on your bed.

“You’re missing home?” You ask.

“I always miss home,” Wanda replies. “But being with you here has felt kind of like home.”

“I’m so glad,” you say. You glance at your watch. Three minutes until midnight. “What’s bothering you then?”

“Do you like me?” Wanda blurts out unexpectedly.

“What? Of course I like you, Wanda,” you say.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Do you like me like me?”

“Oh.”

“Because well, I like you,” Wanda says. “And what’s bothering me is that everyone else seems to really like you too.”

“What like Nat?” You ask. She nods. “That never happened, Wanda. We’re friends.”

“But you’re attracted to her.”

“Well, you have eyes,” you try to joke, but Wanda doesn’t smile. “She is a friend.”

“And so am I,” Wanda says with a frown on her perfect lips.

“Yeah, but if you want to be more than friends then we could try?”

“Really?” Wanda asks.

“Really,” you say. “You’re so beautiful, Wanda. And so smart, cool, funny, and passionate.”

Wanda smiles the most perfect smile you’ve ever seen. You hold her cheek in your hand and brush her hair back with the other. She leans in closer.

“Wait,” you whisper. You hold up your watch. “Count with me. Ten, nine, eight…”

You count all the way down to one and Wanda kisses you as soon as she can. She practically straddles your lap as she deepens the kiss. It’s everything.

“Wanda,” you say softly, pulling away to breathe. “We need to go celebrate with everyone.”

“But I want to kiss you,” Wanda pouts.

You kiss her pouty lips and almost lose your will to stop.

“We can do this all we want later,” you tell her. “Right now it’s time to celebrate the new year with everyone. What do you say?”

“You promise we’ll do this again?” She asks.

“And again. And again. And again,” you reply, leaving a kiss to each of her cheeks and her forehead with your words.

Wanda smiles and lets you take her hand. You two walk downstairs together and spend the rest of the night celebrating New Years. It’s the best beginning to a year either of you have ever had.

You hope for many many more with Wanda by your side.

[mariabtsos]

Fool's Gold ||j.jk||

Description: when Jungkook’s prank goes horribly wrong, will he be able to win you back or will this be the end of you and him?

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Prankster!Jungkook x f!reader, established relationship, April Fool's prank gone wrong, angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, happy ending.

Warnings: small act of violence.

Word Count: 4.4k+

This was supposed to be Jungkook's best prank yet. It was supposed to make you laugh and maybe smack his chest a little like you always did with his pranks.

You weren't supposed to ghost him.

You and Jungkook had met back when you still had dreams of becoming an idol, you both entered Big Hit's trainee program at the same time and you became quick best friends. You both shared the love for pranks and would help one another come up with silly ways of pranking each other's members.

You would also be each other's emotional support through the evaluations, the cuts and the other's leaving. He still remembered the day his Hobi hyung decided he didn't want to continue, how you held him so tightly and encouraged him to go tell his hyung how badly BTS needed him, he remembered when they first debuted and their performances kept being cut short, and how you assured him that they would be the biggest kpop group one day.

He also remembered the day you told him you were quitting.

“They are not going to debut us Jungkookie, I don't want to wait forever for a chance,” you told him, your bags were packed behind you and your parents were outside waiting for you.

He didn't want you to leave, and at first he didn't understand why you were doing this. Once he grew older and faced the challenges he and his bandmates were faced with he understood, but he still missed you terribly. It took 4 years and a lot of pestering Bang PD but he finally got your home phone number and he called you as soon as he got it.

“Yln residence?” It was almost pathetic how quickly he recognized your voice.

“Ynie?”

Reconnecting with you had been the best decision he ever made, it almost felt like no time had passed, and feelings he'd been reluctant to ponder on resurfaced every time he went to see you.

Every meeting, every call, every text, all of it immediately made Jungkook’s days a little brighter and his feelings for you a little stronger. He wanted nothing more than to call you his, and so he took a chance and asked you out with a prank.

He’d taken you to do grocery shopping with him for the dorm, you noticed his RUN BTS! cameraman was there which was very odd. Jungkook then confessed to you that he had talked to the owners about a prank on the security person, where you would see how big of a purchase you could make and leave with and go unnoticed. “I don’t know about this one Jungkookie,” you gave him an unsure grin as you started to walk out of the store with a cart full of groceries, “We’ll be okay Ynie,” he waved you off.

Obviously you weren’t okay.

To say you were almost immediately stopped by the security of the store was an understatement, it was almost like he was waiting for you. You were immediately so stressed for Jungkook, you could already see the dispatch headlines “BTS’s JUNGKOOK found stealing at grocery shop with mysterious girl” and you could already see the death threats coming through your inbox for making the young idol get in such trouble.

You panicked and tried explaining to the security guard what had happened, and what you were doing along with Jungkook but it was a lost cause. “I’m going to need you to come with me sir,” the older man said quickly, putting Jungkook’s arms behind his back. You could feel the tears well up as you kept murmuring “I’m sorrys” to him as they took him to the security room. It only took a couple of seconds for him to come back out with a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“What the fuck are you doing,” you laughed inbetween sobs.

“I’ve liked you for a while Ynie, and every day that we talk, text, or spend together makes me feel so much lighter and so much better, so would you go out with me and be mine?” His words were sweet and you couldn’t help but continue to laugh and nod. Jungkook pulled you in for a kiss and the people that were close enough to witness your interaction cheered and clapped.

Fast forward 9 and a half years and one military service later and here you were. When Jungkook came back from said service things were weird for you though.

It seemed like Jungkook’s pranks had increased, at first you didn’t mind playing along with him, you had missed him after all, and even if it was something a little out there — like the time he used nutella and asked you to “bring him toilet paper” just for him to wipe the chocolate spread on you; you felt like puking and were gagging for a good 10 minutes after that — you still enjoyed seeing his pretty bunny smile and hearing his giggles. After a while though, it almost felt like Jungkook had almost reverted back to his 13-15 year old ways, pranking you almost every day, you felt on edge all the time and, even if you knew it wasn’t true, you felt like this was the only way for him to like you.

So when he suddenly slowed down and no pranks happened in a few weeks, you felt that maybe he’d finally gotten over it, that he’d wanted to go back to normal. Then one day he’d started acting weird, well maybe not weird but something felt off, you chalked it up to him preparing for BTS’ next comeback so you didn’t really think much of it.

“Wanna go to the mall today?” He asked you. You were laying on the couch with your head laying on his legs, he was playing some video game and you were scrolling absentmindedly through your phone.

“Are you sure? You coming back is still pretty fresh, I don’t want us to get ambushed,” you put your phone on your chest and looked up at him.

You felt so comfortable in this position you were hoping Jungkook would say no and you would get to nap like this. His body was fit and defined but it was still so comfortable to lay on, and his thighs being so thick made them fantastic pillows. “I’m sure! I have a surprise for you,” he stated excitedly, and you wished you had read between the lines, you wished that you had seen the signs, because when you arrived at the mall he walked you around, making you pick out pretty outfits, pretty accessories and makeup. Then he walked you into jewelers, and you felt your heart race, was he planning what you thought he was planning? You wanted nothing more than for this to be Jungkook’s special way of letting you know he was planning on proposing.

You had talked about marriage in passing, during sleepy cuddle sessions and late night dinners. You were sure Jungkook would want to wait until he was older, maybe in his late 20’s or early 30’s, he had never told you otherwise and you had never really pushed super hard on it, but you had dropped little hints here and there. You sent him pictures of pretty gem cuts and ring designs you liked, you even sent him those tiktoks where people did different wedding dress themes. Okay, maybe you weren’t subtle, but you really wanted Jungkook to get the hint you’d been together for almost ten years, and although you were patient, you wanted to be his, forever.

The jeweler measured your ring finger. He showed you all the different designs, and you left the mall with all your bags, including a small one for your ring, which you had picked yourself. You made it to the car that was waiting for you just outside the mall.

“Where are we going next Kookie?” you asked cuddling close to him.

It was finally time for his prank, “we’re going to Namjoonie hyung’s apartment, it has the prettiest view.”

“Right now?!” you exclaimed.

“Yup! I have to give something to him.”

When you arrived, Jungkook made sure to tell you to bring your shopping bags with you since you’d be there a while. Was he going to do it all now? You were so nervous, you would have to make sure to ask Namjoon’s girlfriend, Jinhee, for help. When you got there and explained to her your suspicions she immediately dragged you to her and Namjoon’s shared bedroom, helping you get ready for the special moment that was to come.

“We do have a beautiful view,” she said as she added the final touches to your hair, “I’m so happy for you Ynie!” She hugged you tightly. The time came for you to come out of the room, Namjoon’s girlfriend wasn’t far behind you.

There was a lot of people there all the sudden, almost the entire 97 line, and all of BTS were there, you greeted everyone and then you heard Jungkook call out to you, you turned around to see him down on one knee, you started tearing up immediately, ready to hear his speech that you were almost certain he’d practiced for months because he was that kind of man.

And then it all came crashing down.

“Fire!” he yelled, and everyone pulled out cans of silly string, immediately spraying you. Your outfit and makeup were positively ruined, and everyone was laughing, well, everyone except you. How did you read it all so wrong, why did he get you all these things and have you look all pretty for a proposal, for this? Jungkook wasn’t this cruel was he? You felt the tears welling up more now. “Happy April Fool’s baby!”

This was supposed to be Jungkook’s best prank yet, why weren’t you laughing?

As the laughter died down and some of the attendees went back to their conversations others remained watchful of what was about to unfold. Jungkook got back to his feet and reached for your hand, he was confused when you pulled away. You loved his pranks! He wanted to make up for lost time after coming back from the military and make sure your relationship hadn’t changed and…why were you crying?

“Jagi? Are you o-” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. You... slapped him?

“Fucking dickhead,” you said, you tried your best to not let your voice break. You went back to Namjoon and his girlfriend's bedroom to grab your stuff, and then you swiftly left, slamming the door on your way out. You walked for a bit, making sure to put enough space between Namjoon's house and yourself. Eventually, you made it to a bus stop and got on.

You weren't supposed to be ghosting Jungkook, it was just supposed to be a fun prank. It had been a week and a half since his prank, and you hadn't texted or called, hell, Jungkook was even checking his email to see if maybe you had contacted him there, nothing. 

Maybe you were pranking him too?

He was shocked at your reaction, you loved his pranks. When you first met you connected over pranks, it was your thing. So, after being gone for 18 months and only being able to spend very minimal time together with you, he thought this would be a great way to reconnect again.

His hyungs were worried about both of you, Jungkook had been so out of it, all he did was go to work and come home to check his phone and watch the door, waiting for you to walk through it. The only person that had been able to contact you was Jinhee, and all she got was a short text stating you were okay and that you needed time.

So his hyungs had decided they were all going to stay at his apartment, he had a bunch of mattresses anyway, and make sure he wasn't doing something silly or stupid.

“Jungkookie?” Taehyung called him over, they were all getting ready to eat, and he was still sitting on his couch looking at his phone.

“Why won't she talk to me?” He groaned as he took a seat between Tae and Hoseok, putting his face in his hands.

His members looked at each other, “well, if I looked pretty and thought you were going to propose I wouldn't talk to you for a while either,” Yoongi said matter-of-factly, making Jungkook look up immediately.

“Jinhee said that when she was helping get Yn ready she mentioned you took her shopping and that you even had her pick a ring?” Namjoon explained, what followed was groans and multiple facepalms around the table.

“Jungkookie, please tell me you didn't have her do all that for a prank?” Jin stated, holding the bridge of his nose.

“She never explicitly said she wanted marriage! We talked about it in passing!”

“You've been together for almost ten years, and you didn't even ask her?!” Jimin got up abruptly, walking away slightly.

“She kept sending me engagement and wedding related things, but I just thought-” he stopped, realization finally hitting him… “I fucked up didn't I?” he let his head fall backwards.

You'd been home with your family, mainly staying in your room and crying away the embarrassment and hurt. Your parents were concerned, and your siblings had been trying to get you to talk, but all you did was sit there and look at a picture you had with Jungkook back when you were trainees.

“Sis,” your youngest sister gently shook your leg, “unnie please talk to me, I need to know what's wrong, we need to know what's wrong so we can help you,” you could hear her voice tremble, and you the last thing you wanted was for her to cry because she was worried about you.

“Jungkook pranked me,” you stated, your voice monotone. “Is that why you were covered with silly string?” you nodded, finally sitting up on your bed and lightly tapping the spot next to you.

“Well, you and Jungkook oppa have always loved to prank each other, what happened this time?” she asked as she took the spot. You summarized the situation, and watched as she went from angry, to sad, to pensive.

“Not trying to justify him doing that to you, but you said he looked shocked when you left?” You nodded, “I know you told me you'd sent him tiktoks and other hints, but did you ever specifically speak about marriage seriously?” She asked softly, you shook your hand.

“I assumed he didn't want that right now, which is why I was so excited when he took me out, I thought maybe he realized he did want it,” you explained.

“Sounds to me like you have some miscommunication going on there unnie,” she grinned awkwardly, “sure he could've read the hints, but if you don't actually talk about it, how are either of you supposed to know what the other wants?” She nudged your shoulder. You scoffed, realizing how right she was.

“When did you become so wise? Aren't you supposed to be 7?” You wrapped your arms around her for a hug.

“Try adding 10 years to that 7,” she rolled her eyes. 

You heard a pinging sound coming from your phone which was on your nightstand, you pulled away from your sister and looked at her, your worry obvious on your face, she grabbed your phone and handed it to you. “What's the worst that can happen?” She encouraged you.

When you unlocked your phone you saw all the texts and calls from everyone, the most recent being from the very man you had just talked about.

Ynie?

Can we talk please?

To say Jungkook was nervous was an understatement, when you texted him back agreeing to see him and talk he screamed and jumped just as he did when you'd agreed to your first date ever, way back when he found you again. His hyungs and his friends had given him all the advice to last at least five life times.

Five lifetimes wouldn't be enough to apologize.

You had agreed to meet in a park near your parents’ house, he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible and to not feel like he was ambushing you. If you wanted to leave, your parents were nearby, if you broke up… the thought made him shudder and his heart crack, that was the absolute worst case scenario.

He was taken out of his thoughts when he heard a car door closing, seeing you walking toward him feel relieved for a moment, and then he saw the dark circles under your eyes. Fuck, he was such a dick.

“Hi Jungkookie,” you greeted him once you were close enough. He just stood there looking at you.

Gosh how he'd missed your face.

“Hi Ynie,” he resisted the urge of enveloping you in a hug, he wanted to keep space between you two so you could, again, be as comfortable as possible. “Um, want to sit down at that bench over there?” He pointed a couple feet away from where you were standing, you nodded.

The short walk was quiet. Once you sat down you stayed in a weird awkward silence for a minute or so.

“I'm so sorry Ynie,” Jungkook started, “I never wanted to hurt you, I was so focused on us reconnecting after I got back,” he voice trembled, “I didn't pay attention to the hints, I ended up hurting you. I should've never taken you to do all those things if I wasn't going to follow through.”

You took a deep breath, looked at him in an oversized hoodie and sweats, he looked so sad. “Thank you,” you looked down at his hands, his fingers were twitching and you could tell he wanted to hold your hands.

“What you did wasn't okay, I felt humiliated in front of your friends and brothers,” your voice trembled, “I know jagi, I feel absolutely horrible about that,” he sniffled.

“I should've communicated with you what I wanted, because I wanted to marry you Jungkook, I wanted to be yours for the rest of my life,” you felt tears streaming down your face, “wanted?” he sobbed, he felt his heart breaking into a million pieces, so this was it, you were done with him.

He was so freaking dense, how could he have messed up one of the best things he'd had for a prank?

“Fuck, to think you could have a ring on your finger right now and still want to be with me if I hadn't been so fucking clueless,” he word vomited, he had nothing to lose. “I want nothing more than to be able to call you my wife Ynie, I'm sorry I-”

You took hold of his tattooed hand.

“I still want you Jungkook,” you admitted, “we just… need to work on communicating what we want better,” you sniffled, “maybe go to couple's therapy?” 

“Anything to bring you back to me,” his doe eyes were pleading with you, holding your hand so tight.

“Okay, let's go home.”

Grab the box I left on the bed and be ready by 7pm, I love you♡

That's the note Jungkook had left for you on your nightstand. Ever since that conversation at the park things had become so much better, he'd stopped pranking you almost all together, he'd been treating you extra special every day, and your therapist had asked that you took an hour out of the day to when you both got home from work to talk about your days and about one thing they were grateful the other did that day. Jungkook had proven he was sorry everyday.

And today, he'd left her a box with a beautiful cream colored milkmaid style, pink flower print dress with puffed short sleeves that reached just above your knees.

You put your hair up and left a few strands of hair out to frame your face, you put on brown wedges and went for a more natural makeup look. By the time you were spraying on your perfume it was 6:57, and you were ready to go for whatever Jungkook had planned.

He texted you letting you know he would wait for you in his car, so you grabbed your purse, phone and keys and headed out of your shared apartment and quickly made your way downstairs and to Jungkook’s car, he was waiting outside of the passenger door looking down at his phone.

“Hi Kookie!” You greeted him cheerfully.

He looked up at you and was floored, you had always been beautiful, but he would never not be shocked by it, especially when this dress hugged your body and enhanced your skin tone so nicely.

“You look ethereal jagi,” he sighed, looking at you like you were the 8th wonder of the world. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him once you reached him, “thank you,” you pulled away slightly so you could give him a couple of quick pecks, you could feel Jungkook smile with each kiss.

When you pulled away you saw he was wearing an almost all-black outfit — as usual for Jungkook — a button up black silky shirt with a couple of buttons undone and a white undershirt, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as well as fitted dress pants and shiny black dress shoes.

In short, he looked hot as fuck.

He opened the passenger side door for you, and put his hand out to help you get in. Once you were all set, he ran around and got in the car, and once he was all set he started driving.

“Where are we going yeobo?” You asked, placing your hand on his thigh.

“I planned a surprise for you.”

At first you were a bit apprehensive, considering how it went the last time he had planned a surprise. But you trusted Jungkook again, and you trusted he wouldn't do something as cruel as that again.

You drove for a little while and made it to a small park that was just so peaceful and beautiful. Jungkook opened your door and helped you out of the car, he was holding a small basket, “when did you get that?”

“No need to worry your pretty little head about it jagi” he smiled mischievously.

Oh boy

As you continued to walk you noticed the building outlines and poked out from the trees. “Those buildings seem familiar,” you said, “one of those is Namjoonie and Jiminie hyung’s apartment building,” he admitted absentmindedly.

“So this is the pretty view they have?” You took in the park one more time. That day six months ago you didn't really have time to look out of the balcony, you kind of just, ran. Jungkook just hummed in response, slowing down on his walk and turning into a small trail, where there were some open spots and a small wooden bridge over a river.

Jungkook set down the basket and pulled out a picnic blanket, laying it down on the grass and using small rocks to keep it down, “I think you're a little overdressed for a picnic Jungkookie,” you giggled, making him roll his eyes as he finished setting up the food, which consisted of gimbap, tteokbokki, and bibimbap.

“I just wanted to make sure I looked as good as you,” he got up and wrapped his arms around your waist, “I honestly still feel like I'm wearing sweats and a hoodie compared to how beautiful you look,” you blushed hard and helped you sit down on the blanket so you could eat.

Everything was delicious and you had a great time, which realistically you always had a great time with Jungkook, there was never a time where he didn't make you laugh so hard you would have tears rolling down your face. He made sure to clean up and put everything back into the basket and had it sit on the grass for a moment.

“Let's go to the bridge!” He took your hand and pulled you to the small wooden structure, he held onto the rail and you did the same. “Did you know this is a wishing bridge? That's why there's so many little coins down there.”

“Are we going to make a wish?” looking down at the river and the fishes swimming through it. “Yes, we are,” you heard him say, and when you turned toward him you yelped.

Jungkook was getting down on one knee.

He was truly a product of Namjoon though, no sooner than he was getting down on his knee, he tripped and the ring box he was pulling out of his pocket fell through the wooden rail. You tried to catch it but it was no use, and watched as the box floated away, you were trying to hold back tears so you could comfort Jungkook but when you turned to him again, he was down on one knee, with the most beautiful ring you had ever seen between his fingers.

“Gotcha!” He giggled, “six months ago I thought I’d lost you, I knew I fucked up big time and when you took me back I vowed to myself to make it up to you every day,” you felt the tears streaming down your face, much like that day 6 months ago, but this time you weren't being humiliated, and this time they were happy tears. “I want to make you smile every day, every night. I want you to be there with me when we win our first Grammy, on our first tour back as seven. Most importantly I want us to have an amazing life together, even after we retire and I am wrinkly and my hair is all gray. So, Ynie, jagi, would you marry me?”

At this point you were ugly crying, and all you could do was nod profusely. Jungkook shakily slipped the ring on your finger and stood up, hugging you so tight you just had to laugh because he was never going to live down the muscle bunny nickname.

“I love you,” he said when you both pulled away, cupping your face with his hands. “I love you too,” you smiled sincerely, and he closed the pace between you with a kiss.

This is your and Jungkook’s greatest moment, he was so happy.

[highdefhoetry]

cw: stalking, peeping tom, voyeurism, obsession, fearplay. the content in this post is strictly fantasy. the author does not condone non-consensual real life instances of stalking.

stalker!gojo, who likes to watch you as you sleep, because that’s when you look the most peaceful. he waits until the dead of night and sneaks into your room using his cursed technique, admiring the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slumber. when morning comes, he fades into the light of sunrise, taking great care not to wake you. he knows how much you like to sleep in.

stalker!gojo, who follows you for weeks without you ever noticing. he is your silent guardian, a fierce yet quiet protector ensuring you are always safe from harm. you are none the wiser, blissfully unaware of the man in the shadows watching your every move.

stalker!gojo, who has your schedule memorized in days. he knows when you go to the grocery store. he knows when you visit your family. he knows your work or class schedule and waits for you outside, right when you leave to head home. he'll tail you all the way, making sure you get back safely. he knows when you like to be alone, and where you go when you don’t want anyone to find you. knowledge shared between the two of you, and the two of you alone. 

stalker!gojo, who goes through your phone when you’re not paying attention to learn more about you. he reads your texts to see who you’re talking to, scrolls through your photos app to figure out what kind of pictures you take, looks through browser history to find out what kind of porn you watch and what fanfics you like to read, follows your blog to discover which kinks you’re into. he knows what turns you on and turns you off. someday he’ll use this information to his benefit. for now, he’s just happy to know you so intimately. 

stalker!gojo, who loves watching you shower. he revels in the sight of your naked body, goes feral when he sees the soapy water flow down over your curves. he has to restrain himself from taking you right then and there, using every ounce of his willpower now to stop his hands from consuming every inch of you. he will have you to himself, in due time. he is a patient man.

stalker!gojo, who leaves small gifts for you when you’re having a bad day. maybe it’s a pair of shoes that have been sitting in your online shopping cart for weeks, or a book that’s been on your reading list. he loves seeing the look of abject fear on your face when you see new presents on your doorstep, chuckles to himself when your head swings around to try and find your mysterious gift-giver, still unaware that he’s been watching you this whole time. you look so cute when you're scared.

stalker!gojo, who has a shrine in his room dedicated to you full of candid photos. he snaps pictures while you're doing your hair, trying on clothes, eating your favorite snacks, napping on the couch. he collects random objects you often forget about, like your hair ties or underwear that's been shoved in the back of your drawer. having these little "trophies" makes him feel even closer to you.

stalker!gojo, who takes great pride in knowing you will never notice him until he’s ready to be found.

stalker!gojo, who knows you better than you know yourself, and who will always be there for you. even if you don’t know it.

[starzshopoflove]

Simon "ghost" Riley x Reader

Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates, age gap but not to crazy, sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader sorry

no thoughts just ghost meeting cute little civvie reader in a shop when he's just trying to get his shopping done after coming back from a mission just wanting to fill his fridge with enough beer and groceries that vaguely resemble food

Simon watching you struggle to reach the flour from a set high shelf in the aisle, grumbling to yourself about "who fucking needs flour anyway" still trying to reach it and he just pluck it off the shelf and drops it in your cart before making his way to another aisle and your just left looking stupid watching this giant trudge away with a little blue tesco basket in tow

Simon who notices you at the same book shop he frequents, but your perched behind the counter doing god knows what ( vaguely resembles inventory but hey do what you will) calculator in hand as he peeks from behind a bookshelf trying to remember where he's seen you before.

Civvie reader who passes her days working quietly in a book shop and living in a simple one room flat indulging her romantic needs in fiction too nervous to actually talk to men, fictional ones satisfying her needs better. That is until you see some books on the counter sliding over to scan them.

"Your total's 23.55" you mumble looking at the screen "Cash or Card?" you add before lifting your head to meet the brick wall of a muscle man. Oh OH, no thoughts as you just stare at his pecs in your line of sight thanking whatever god you believe in for the sight before you, better then anything your little brain could muster up even with the detailed descriptions authors would spit out onto the pages you read

You violently peel your eyes away from the most beautiful pair of man tits you've ever seen to see what man was the owner, and by god do you wish you werent so bad around men. I mean the wind practically got knocked out of your lungs as you let out a barely audible squeak watching this man fish in his pockets for his wallet

Messy blonde hair that was in that weird phase of curly but not really, a nose that looks like its seen a good fight, deep set brown eyes, and a few healed scars settled on the skin. Aged but like wine, a really really fine wine

"Right, cash" His hands fiddling through the wallet to pull out the bank notes, while you prayed you didnt look like a hunger dog staring at his hands as they placed the cash on the counter.

Simon who watches the little bookshop employee look like she just got punched in the gut and was trying not groan as she quickly rang him up, Do i smell? he thinks to himself

Simon who watches your smaller hands shuffle the cash into the register, noting how they're free of calluses, nailed neat and slightly grown, soft.

Simon who leaves the bookstore thinking of a excuse to go again tomorrow, not to see the bookshop girl or anything, he has his reasons!! he just hasn't thought of it yet!!

You start looking up from your notes for your class when the shop bell jingles hoping to see the mystery man whos built exactly like your favorite webcomic character but with the gruff and mature aura of that mc from the game your friend made you play that you cant quite remember. Only disappointed when its just another customer , until later in the day the man returns again.

But its much later in the day and you've switched on the shops warm lights, turning off the ac letting the place warm up as you hear the door jingle again, mystery man making his way to the counter your eyes following his every step, meaty thighs

You who perks up when his forearms settle at the counter suddenly eyes locking onto yours and suddenly very glad you tidied up a bit today, tinted chapstick, perfume, cleaner turtle neck, lashes, lipgloss, earrings ahm

"Tesco" he grumbles out unmoving

"what" well thats not what you were expecting to hear

"You were the girl , couldnt reach the flour yeah?" oh that was him

"Oh, that was you? thank you?" oh what the fuck were you supposed to say?? oh thank you freakishly tall man who watched me struggle?? let me take your whole cock in my mouth while you call me a good pet feeding your meaty length down my throat??

"Yeah" Simon didnt think to much on what to do now, gaze getting awkward now that hes got his confirmation

"Did you need anything" you finally broke the silence, god its fuckin tense in here and hes so close, you wanna just get a sniff but thats hardly workplace behavior doesn't matter if its your dads shop or not.

"Mhm, ye got any cook books?"

"yeah, section 12, shelf 9" whos he cooking for? his wife? i dont see a ring? maybe a long time girlfriend?? who wouldnt snatch up this actual beefcake

"Thanks, tryna cook something new for myself. Flats been quiet" He mumbled like speaking too much would give him a headache

SImon purchased his books same stare at the girls hand like last time as she took his money. God do something you look like a creep staring at this poor girls hands.

"Got a notepad luv?" again that same punched face returned, is she alright? he thought to himself

Oh he just called me luv oh fuck dont wheeze dont wheeze just hand him the pen and paper like a good employee, come on. Oh god dont stare at his arms, are those tattoos oh my god

Sliding back the notepad simon made pace of grabbing his cook book a slipping out the shop just as quick as he went in

You who looked at the notepad almost slipping back out of your chair

"Simon 44 xxx xxx xxx"

Children were singing, the angels sang their songs, the trees regrew in that parking lot down the street, healthcare in america was just made free, and you just got the phone number of a man built like a double door fridge that you have every intention of climbing

[alespov]

Going Halloween Shopping with Leon

Tw: No actual trigger warnings, just tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: So I'm starting the Halloween series a bit early lol, Feedback is greatly appreciated! <33 Requests are open, especially Halloween ones. I do wish to note, that I'm only accepting requests for Leon and Wesker atm.

“Hey babe look at this one,” you called out to your husband, You picked out the goofy-looking pumpkin and waited for his opinion. He stood before you eyeing the decoration that you didn’t need. 

“Another babe? It looks like all of the other ones.” Initially, Leon's face displayed a blank expression, but as he caught sight of your subtle pout, he proceeded with renewed interest. “If the silly ass pumpkin makes you happy, then we can get it.” He said while taking a sip of his coffee. 

You cheered, placed the pumpkin in your cart, and walked to a different aisle. You looked behind you and noticed Leon wasn’t with you anymore. 

You stopped walking to look at some fall candles and hoped he would catch up with you soon. In the meantime, you would stay in the area, but wouldn’t leave til he was with you. Thankfully there was a few more aisle to look at. You knew Leon liked the woodsy candles, so you looked for one. Not before picking out a few delicious-smelling candles for yourself. 

With anticipation, you gingerly placed the candles into your cart, their flickering flames dancing in your mind's eye. Enthusiastically, you ventured further down to the next aisle, eagerly searching for the elusive Halloween blanket that had captured your heart. As you rummaged through the array of blankets, your heart sank - it wasn't there. Disheartened but determined to brighten up your home with spooky decor, you turned to explore the spooky assortment of throw pillows that caught your attention. The striking patterns and festive colors seemed to beckon, offering a tempting alternative.

After picking out everything you wanted, you got your phone out of your purse and called Leon. To your dismay, he didn’t answer. You were used to that, Leon didn’t answer his phone often. 

“Honey!” you heard Leon call out, he quickly made his way to you with an assortment of stuff. You giggled at your husband while he was putting stuff in the cart while giving the reason why he needed it. 

“Are you ready to leave now?” He asked while pushing the cart toward the checkout, you were surprised by the sudden urgency. 

“What’s the rush babe?” You asked concerned, the both of you made it to the self-checkout before he gave you an answer. 

“ Oh it's nothing, honey, I just have a surprise for you at home.” You smiled with anticipation and hurried to scan all of the items. 

During the drive home, the both of you talked about the evening plans and what to make for dinner. Leon finally pulled into the driveway and parked the car. After he took the keys out of the ignition, he grabbed a bag from the back seat. 

“Here, go inside and put these on, I’ll get the groceries.” He sat the bag in your lap, and the both of you shared a kiss and went your separate ways. Bubbling with excitement you hastily made your way to your bedroom and got the contents out of the bag. You grabbed the soft fabric and placed it on the bed, you noticed the Halloween print. As you put them on, your excitement grew bigger. Leon had bought you Halloween pajamas

You heard Leon putting stuff away downstairs and made your way back down the stairs. Walking into the kitchen, you saw Leon putting pasta away. 

“Babe! When did you pick these up?” you squealed happily. He laughed and gave you a hug while squeezing your butt. “Hmm, when I got the stuff I needed. I also got us a few more things,” he mumbled into the shell of your ear. “Go wait in the TV room.” He gave you another kiss and the both of you parted ways.

As you lounged on the plush couch, your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the mysterious bags resting on the recliner nearby. Temptation tugged at your curiosity, urging you to sneak a peek. However, you restrained yourself, although the flutter of anticipation grew within. All of a sudden, Leon strolled into the TV room, and a delighted gasp escaped your lips. To your surprise and amusement, he was donned in matching pajamas that coordinated perfectly with your own.

“Honey, when did you plan this?” Leon explained that he came up with the idea the morning of, 

“I also got us this.” He pulled out the blanket that you had wanted and a few Halloween movies with some holiday treats. “In this bag, I got fleece fabric so we both can make a blanket while eating Halloween treats and watching movies.” 

You almost couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have somebody like him, You jumped into his arms and he caught you gracefully. 

I also wanted to say, i do have a resident evil centered discord sever <33 { link}