#and even if i don't like your cake someone else will!
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aparticularbandit · 6 months ago
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I don't know how to put into words that there is a line beyond which I want credit for things.
Like. Guitar Hero being an inspiration for Ibuki's shift from Light Music to Screamo isn't something I need or want credit for.
General headcanon I don't need or want credit for.
But there's. there's a line beyond which. and it's not a strict thing? it's intensely variable?
Heck, even when I write Jess stuff, if I'm referencing Willow's headcanon for Roger, I credit that. If I'm using Alana in Jess stuff, I'm probably drawing huge inspiration from Kat's Alana, and I credit that.
I don't know how to put into words what that line is, and I feel bad because I feel like I sound like I'm saying no, don't use my shit, which is not. what I'm saying.
And I don't want people to feel like oh, we have to ask Bandit permission to use their stuff, because like. that's not. strictly speaking true either.
-sighs-
It's just complicated.
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softshuji · 7 months ago
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Any men out there wanna pretend to be my bf to get my parents off my case about marriage? I am so so serious right now.
#my mom gave me a really really lonf lecture and upset me because her and my dad want me to start thinking about settling down ans getting#married. again. cos this comes up all the time. ans I reiterated that i do wanna marry and have kids. i know im 26 years old why do they'#think im also not aware of this??? like i suddenly forgot my own age and have my head in the clouds all the time. and i got so heated cos i#said they only believe in that in theory. in reality neither of them have accepted the idea od my leaving home or the idea of mw being with#a man. and they start freaking out if they even find out i talk to them so to say they want me to get married is so fucking naive#ans when i mentioned this and that they're more than ok w mt brothers talking tp women she said that if i wanted to settle down she could#talk to dad and they could “go about finding someone for me” and I've never been so pissed#i got so upset. why does everyone keep saying this to me. as if anyone my dad knows could ever be a half decent man#and the truth is they don't care if im in a happy marriage they've accepted that i won't be they only care that im gone and saving face in#front of family. that's all. it's always reputation it's always “what will people say?”#not once did love come up. not once did shw even imply that i should marryfor love#or that they hope i love someone and marry them. because they're more happy with the idea of me marrying for the sake of it than#they are at the idea of me finding genuine lovw#im not a fucking broodmare im not here to push out babies for the sake od reputation.#and then i said nor being married isn't the end of the world and she said “it's important that you settle down”#and i said im unwavering in my principles. she can call mw high maintenance like she loves doing but I'm not wavering on the#kind of man i want to be with and when i do marry him i want it to bw genuine. because be loves me and vice versa not because im ticking off#somethin from a damn checklist to appease them. and if being unwavering on my principles means staying unmarried then so be it.#my obligations are to god and myself and that's it#and y'know what??? i am in love with a boy already#and yet they don't care that i wanna be in love at all. no im just a puppet to follow a certain narrative in life live according to evergone#else has and that's it.#im done.#and then she tried to apologise by getting me a slice of cake and that somehow made me feel worse.#i dont want an apology. i want to be heard and actually listened to for once. i want someone to ask what i want. to actually give a shit#and love me cos it's me. not cos im some thing to further an agenda. or some toy or puppet that does your bidding.#is it so much??? to just want to be loved in return? to marry and live according to how i want to?? ans not want anyone to make these#decision's for me?#ruined my whole day.
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pomefioredove · 7 months ago
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now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending
summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up
crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake
he acts so... casual about it?
swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"
"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"
okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you
"To what?"
Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."
(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)
Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices
"So you'll let me go once you get me?"
"Uhhh..."
Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him
Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him
(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)
Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess
even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast
you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!
of all the irresponsible things...
of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too
purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble
he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours
of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too
going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?
I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?
actually don't answer that
...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie
but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?
for one, you'd make a really good pillow
he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that
and malleus would hate it
...that's reason enough for him
plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?
either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie
news travels fast around school, after all
then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed
that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!
besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!
so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price
he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now, Azul is annoyed
once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about
talk about good marketing...
why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!
of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary
it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one
Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof
though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion
a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around
and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says
"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"
hint: he is not
the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it
(AKA infinite sleepovers)
and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!
he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in
right next to his of course :)
and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you
after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him
You don't always get what you want
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable
he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner
with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...
when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs
oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?
of all the silly, immature things...
oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding
(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)
Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile
but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately
with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"
Idia understandably freaks out
"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"
(liar)
(...but this is still different)
the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus
"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."
Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"
"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"
"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"
Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege
Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made
he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident
though, of course, he goes to you first
seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week
and he's in a great mood!
"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"
you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"
"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"
you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"
"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"
certainly he's not this naive, you think
"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"
he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"
huh. that was a strange way of putting it
but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it
and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!
"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"
he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"
"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"
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bunnys-kisses · 1 month ago
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hiii could i pls get hocus pocus rolls, pumpkin patch brownies and a dead velvet cake with a side of doctor pepper, white claw, pepsi zero and a gummy bear cocktail served by lando?? love ur fics!!
halloween bakery - bakery menu
the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! so get those orders in during the meantime! thank you to everyone who has submitted, i'm trying to get them done in a timely manner! writing these prompts has allowed me to help manage some of my seasonal depression & chronic pains.
hocus pocus rolls: "next year you're wearing something that covers more." + pumpkin patch brownies: "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold." + dead velvet cake: "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!" + doctor pepper: university au + white claw: slutty costumes + pepsi zero: rough sex + gummy bear cocktail: possessive behavior served by lando norris (formula one)!!
tags: smut/pwp, university au, slutty costumes, possessive behavior, rough sex, football (soccer) player!lando, protected sex, missionary style
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"it's so cold tonight!" you yelped as you walked with your boyfriend to the house that he lived in with the rest of the football team. even though you were wearing a light jacket, the wind cut through it.
lando had a possessive hand on your lower back as the two of you walked across campus as the sun went down. he pulled at the back of the jacket a little and said, "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold."
"well, they said it was going to be plus ten, so i thought this would be enough!"
lando remarked, "i think it would've been fine if you didn't wear such a thin costume." he gave your ass a quick squeeze, feeling the cheap material of the outfit under his palm.
lando knew the costume was slutty. how could he not? the jacket you wore couldn't cover up just how much that costume revealed. you were dressed as a cheerleader this year, and while that was a fantasy for lando. he would've preferred if the outfit wasn't being pranced around the house.
he was on the couch during the party. he was dressed in his football uniform and that was his 'costume' with his windbreaker jacket over it. he eyed you up and down as you chatted and drank. you looked cute. adorable even. your charm pulled people in.
there was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. your heels clicked against the hardwood floor but was drowned out by the loud music. lando got up from the couch and was close behind you. when you opened the door to hand out candy to those not invited to the party. he wrapped you up in his jacket.
"lando!" you yelped as the mini chocolate bars fell out of your hand
"next year you're wearing something that covers more." he then pulled you away from the door which caused you to flail as the candy fell from your hands, "you look too good, babe. i think that's enough for their eyes." he said as he hauled you upstairs.
you swore you heard lando's teammate, oscar, laugh over the thump of the music. you whined, "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!"
when lando got you to the bedrooms upstairs, he wrapped his strong arms around you, "someone else can do it. let the captain or someone else. i don't care. i just need you right now." he said. it was hard to hide an erection in those shorts.
lando's room was nice, but you had little time to admire the photos of you he had pinned to the wall before you were on the bed. you bounced on it as you fell on top of it. your breasts bounced and it only made lando more hungry for you.
"there's my little cheerleader." he said as he cupped his cock in his shorts, "you come to every game with my number across your pretty tits. you wear my last name like its yours." he chuckled before he pulled the jersey top off, "you hoping for a ring after graduation."
you blushed and wanted to push him away, but he pulled you in closer. you giggled when he kissed you, "i think you're buying ring before i can even think about it." you reached down and touched his cock in his shorts before they were pulled off and sent to the ground.
he chuckled before his lips touched your neck, "well, when you're my wife. this little outfit will be for my eyes only. i don't need all of the school to have their eyes on you. hungry like animals." you moaned when his kisses continued.
lando knew how to make you feel good, the kind of toe curling feeling that made it very easy for him to get you out of your costume. at least he didn't tear the thing off of you! his kisses continued as his clothed cock brushed against you. you knew he was painfully erect.
"my angel." he said, "prettiest girl on campus. fuck, you drive me crazy." he groaned a little bit when he eventually got his briefs off and let him rubbed his achy cock against you, "you have no idea how crazy you drive me."
you moaned, "please, lando."
you knew what everyone adored your boyfriend, he was great at what he did on the field and in the classroom. but he only had eyes for you, he yearned for you as his hands trailed up your sides. you were both naked on his bed, not the first time that had happened. but every time you were intimate with your boyfriend it felt special.
"i want you, i want you to badly." he got you onto your back and hiked your hips up against him where you wrapped your legs around his waist. he leaned forward and grabbed a condom from nightstand. you two had to play it safe, you were both still in school.
you replied, "i love you."
"i love you too, fuck, you look too perfect in the costume. i didn't know something could fit you so well." he chuckled as he leaned back a little to get the condom on.
you felt anticipation run through you as you laid out under him. you admired him. his toned body and bright smile. you could make out the pink in his cheeks from the immense pleasure between you two. to be fucking in the quietness of his bedroom while there was a party outside.
"i don't want you to have anyone else." he said as he gave his cock a few strokes to make sure the condom was on there securely. he then loomed over you with his hands at your hips as he sank his cock into you. your toes curled and your back arched at the feeling of him.
you held onto the covers under you, the same covers that you picked out for him. the soft blue that went with the minimal decor of his bedroom.
lando loved you and respected opinions you had, even if it was something simple like a nice bed spread. because at the end of the day, he still got to fuck you against the covers. the bed squeaked a little bit and lando realized that he had to slow his pace down. but where he lacked in speed, he made up in strength. and he roughly fucked you, slowly, making you feel every inch of him as he buried over seven inches inside of your achy cunt.
he needed you just as much as you needed him. he felt like a winner when he played with you in the stands. you watched him put his all into football and you loved him dearly. he never though he'd get that with anyone else. so that was why he was so possessive at times. he didn't want to lose you, you were everything to him.
and you dressed as a slutty cheerleader wasn't soothing the growl in lando's soul as he rutted against you. you were just so beautiful and the words hung on his tongue, but he couldn't say the words as the feeling of pleasure rushed through his body.
"such a pretty girl." he said as he rocked against you. he loved the feeling of your legs around his waist, he thrusted up into you and you felt amazing.
the pace was rough enough that it made the curl of pleasure bloom in your gut. you knew only lando could make you feel this good, make your core throb with want as he fucked you. your noises got a little louder but lando leaned in to kiss you on the lips.
no need to cause a scene at the party tonight. but, lando knew that at the very least oscar knew what you two were up to. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him as he worked your body further. you shifted under his grip on you which only spurred him on further to make a mess of your pretty pussy.
"you look so good under me." he said, "no other guy can have you like this. only me." he chuckled a little, his voice tight from the pleasure as he worked his hips against you. you groaned a little louder as you clung to him, "part of me wants them to know, to all know exactly how you make me feel.
his words curled something in you and you felt the jump of lust inside of you. the pleasure coursed through you as the two of you fucked on the bed. your costumes were left discarded to be picked up in the morning. if you left the room before the party was over, you'd be wearing lando's clothes. not that slutty costume.
"please, lando." you whined as the pleasure worked through you. you knew from the first time he made you cum with his fingers and tongue alone that you'd be in for a world of pleasure with your boyfriend by your side.
"i always make you feel good, babe." he said with tenderness in his voice. he continued to fuck you, he grabbed your hips once more and hiked them up further to get a better angle of your sweet cunt.
the pace staggered, and the pace quickened despite the noise. it didn't help that the two of you were getting louder as you approached your climax. he whispered filthy nothings into your ear, about how hot you looked and how good he wanted to make you feel. it allowed the heat to bloom in your core as you felt orgasm wash over you.
you whined and arched you back, before you could get too loud, your ever loving boyfriend kissed you on the lips tightly. he continued to move against you, heavy, rough strokes that left you feeling on cloud nine. he came soon after with a heavy stroke and you both felt amazing.
"shit, babe."
you both laid out on the bed while the thump of the music downstairs reverberated through the bedroom. you both laid in each other's grasp and softly kissed. lando had gotten rid of the condom already and you two just laid under the covers together.
eventually you heard a knock on the door and oscar's voice, "hey, mate. party's wrapping up, i know you're busy with your girlfriend, but we need all the man power can get to get everyone out."
lando looked at you and kissed you on the cheek before he got out of bed to get dressed. before he left the room he said to you, "stay here, and don't put that costume on unless you want to limp back to your dorm tomorrow." and gave you a wink <3
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zaephix · 3 months ago
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macaron of my eye / / zayne . . .
being the birthday boy came with its perks, like gifts and cake, blessings, and even being able to get away with stealing a few birthday sweets and kisses.
warnings: f!reader, canon divergence (story is diff from the bday story), jealous!zayne, fluff, suggestive
w/c: 1.2k
author's note: happy birthday to the one fictional man who set my standards higher than heaven <3
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"nuh-uh, nope!"
zayne didn't even get the chance to land the slightest touch on one of the many macarons you ended up baking before you promptly slapped his hand away.
"i know it's nearly your birthday but this doesn't mean you can just have your way when you see fit, doctor."
he slowly retracts his wandering hand and you resist the urge to giggle at the sight of his dejected face. these past few days you'd been busy planning for zayne's special day. decorations, sweets, gifts, cake, more sweets... it took some work but you had just about everything checked out and ready to go.
...except for the surprisingly clingy man before you.
he doesn't know why, but he's been feeling irked ever since you visited the hospital a few days ago. it was common to see you heading over to zayne's office after your shift was over, but he'd never actually see you stop and talk to his coworkers. it bothered him, clearly.
you and greyson would talk in hushed whispers oftentimes these days, sneaking glances over in his direction everytime he'd pass by. he brushed it off but it would never leave the back of his mind.
not to mention the fact that you'd barely respond to his calls and texts. he'd taken the next few days leading up to his birthday off, and you seemed excited, so why the change of energy?
he found his answer 20 minutes ago.
"you know, i'd maybe let you eat some if you didn't just come into my apartment unannounced and..." you glance over him, "so gloomy..."
zayne sighs, leaning on the countertop of your kitchen while watching you work ever so diligently.
he supposed you had a point.
after his 4th missed call or so he decided to see you himself, knocking on your door before picking up the key under your plant vase in front of your door and seeing himself in... and as you can tell, without your permission.
"i'm... sorry," he starts slowly. "but don't you think you're at fault for ignoring me?"
you turn back around after putting in the final batch of macarons, smiling. "awh. poor little doctor zayne. so helpless and in need of attention."
he turns his head to the side a little and shakes his head lightly, smiling all the while. "yes..."
"poor little me," a sudden mischiecious glint appears in his eyes, "without my hunter to keep me company. she keeps sneaking off and planning surprises behind my back."
"and yet... someone ruined it!"
"i suppose were both feeling quite woeful today."
"hmph," you turn around with your hands crossed. "don't even ask for a bite. i know you'll be begging sooner or later!"
he stands up and comes closer to your turned form, "not even a nibble?"
"not even!"
"then... i'll just have to improvise, no?"
"what are you talking abou-?"
unbeknownest to you, zayne's favorite sweet was not just macarons.
no, they were something else entirely.
he hums as he rests his arms atop your waist, leaning down exceptionally slowly. your neck heats up, even moreso than when you were stuck baking in the kitchen for hours on end.
his breath fans against your ear, soft chuckles echoing from his chest onto the plain of your back. "this."
he moves the hair cascading down your back to your side, holding it in place as he softly latches his lips onto your exposed skin. your own breath hitches in your chest as you gasp at the contact.
his lips felt cold, but not in a bad way. cold, like the first breeze of autumn after the end of summer. he moves his way up the side of your neck with painfully slow strides. he inhales deeply, taking in the sweet scent of the various flavours of cake attached to you.
and as you exhale steadily, you wonder what encouraged him to reveal this side of himself.
"zayne..."
soft carresses of his lips lingered on your skin—and you found yourself hoping your own lips to be their next victim. never once did his grip on you falter or grow stronger, yet they kept you firmly in place, anticipating his every move.
soon enough he'd completed his trail across your jaw, and you turn your neck to face him. he opens his eyes to find yours and detaches himself, dark and hazy. god, you felt pathetic...
"did you get my answer yet?"
you don't reply, looking from his eyes to his lips again once more, and leaned in.
ding!
you jolted away from him and cursed yourself for putting the macarons in the oven on high so that they'd get done faster. with how everything was going along just about now, you wouldn't even give a damn if they burned or not if you could just continue for a moment more.
"ah... they're ready."
you grab your mittens and open the oven door, letting it cool down while all the steam came out and then finally grabbing it. you set them down on your counter with a proud smile.
"look, this might just be my best batch yet!"
"you really are something..."
zayne gives you a wistful smile and looks over your shoulder, nodding in approval. "you truly outdid yourself this time. they look amazing."
"and?"
"...they also smell nice."
you roll your eyes, "no silly, what's my reward?"
he pretends to think, "hm, i don't know. what should your reward be?"
a noise goes off, your alarm set for 12 am to give zayne a birthday call ringing from your phone. you glance at it and then look back at him,
"...i might just have an idea."
and he reads your mind, dipping in to kiss you without a second thought. afterall, what better way to start his birthday than a kiss?
you sway in his arms, a hand rested atop his cheek and the other on the side of his neck. he smiles into the kiss and pulls you closer, gently moving your bodies in synchronization.
you were sure you could hear his phone vibrating, no doubt on the fact that it was probably one of his colleuges calling to wish him a happy birthday. but you both knew that could wait.
he kisses you slowly and passionately, arms enveloping around you with ease. you're almost left out of breath before you pull away for a split second, until he pulls you back in again. it feels almost desperate, with how he's leaving little to no room for movement and just focusing on your presence. on your lips.
soon enough, you pull away, opting to lean your forehead against his.
"so, birthday boy, did you like your first gift?"
"i thought this was supposed to be someone's reward?"
you giggled, "i changed my mind. this was more important."
he smiles for what felt like the umpteenth time today, sighing peacefully. "does this mean i finally get to try your delicious sweets?"
"what do you mean finally? i tasted the cream inside your mouth! you stole one while i was putting the rest in the oven!"
"hm?"
"don't play dumb, i know exactly how it-!"
and he silences your fusses with one last kiss, and you couldn't help but give in to it.
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robo-writing · 5 days ago
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Hello!! I came from your single mom one shot and I am in love with how you write Logan. Could we have a worst!Logan and wife!reader at a bar and he’s getting hit on relentlessly by a girl who won’t take the hint even though he has stated that he is happily married MULTIPLE TIMES and then reader comes in and rips the girl a new asshole and Logan likes it a little too much and practically drags her home to fuck because of how hot he got from her getting angry and defending him?
How very Beth Dutton of you op! The girl that stands in front of him flashes him a smile—pearly whites, black hair that reaches down to her back, topped off with a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans that draw the eye of everyone behind the bar—everyone except him that is.
He knows what she wants from him before she can utter a single word, eyes shamelessly moving across his body with not a hint of subtlety. A few years earlier and it might've worked, she's cute enough. A vixen, all doe-eyed and determined, if he was a younger man she might've been his type. But that's all in the past; she's cute, Logan thinks to himself, but she's not his wife. His eyes don't move from where you're standing at the bar, barely giving the girl more than a passing glance as she speaks. "Hey there, mind if I keep you company?" He almost rolls his eyes, but he keeps himself in check in hopes that he can resolve this without any trouble.
"I do unfortunately," he says, flashing the pretty gold band around his finger as he takes another swig of his beer. His fingers play with the ring around his finger, smiling to himself like a love-struck fool when he remembers what it symbolizes. He'd hope that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, it is.
The gal's either too drunk or too pig-headed to get the hint, so instead of backing away she leans in real close, too damn close—close enough that it starts to draw your attention from across the bar.
Suddenly your interest isn't in your drink anymore, and before you can walk closer Logan puts his hands up, mouths out lemme handle this, before speaking up again. "Listen, I'm a taken man." He says with a sigh, giving her his full attention. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, a coy smile tugging on the ends of her lips. "That's a shame. Your wife know you're here?" "She does," he nods with a smile, "and she's right over there." He points right to you, where you raise your glass with a thin-lipped smile, sarcasm evident in your body language. He can tell you're in a good mood tonight because you haven't dragged the girl by the hair yet, and he'd rather not ruin the night because she can't take a hint. Surely, she'll leave—except she doesn't. No, she does the exact opposite; she looks back and sees you, laser-focused on the two of them, and with all the audacity in the world, she fucking smiles back. You almost shatter the damn glass in your hand. "Oh, that's alright," she whispers with a wink. "Lemme go talk to her." His eyebrow damn near reaches his hairline, looking at the young girl as if she's truly lost her damn mind. Normally he wouldn't give a damn if someone wants to catch their death, but he takes pity on her for the sole reason that he really doesn't want to get kicked out. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Don't worry," she says, and to put the icing on the cake she puts her hand on his chest, loops her fingers around his dog tags and tugs him down. "I can handle myself." With that one gesture he knows she's just sealed her fate. No, you can't, he wants to say, but she's already making her way across the bar where you stand, looking like hell itself. You know he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, but it doesn't matter—someone else touched what's yours, so you have to remind Logan where home is. He's not really sure if he should feel happy that his girl is so protective of him, or sad that he's about to get kicked out of his favorite bar. Logan sighs and puts his beer down, reaching into his pocket and dialing 9-1-1 just as the telltale sound of glass shattering echoes across the bar. It really is a shame—he liked this bar too. The only good thing that comes from tonight—minus the visual of you with blood across your face—is the jaw-dropping sex that ensues the moment the two of you get home, remnants of rage seeping through every touch as you drag him upstairs by the collar. He's more than happy to let you take the lead, content in being your personal scapegoat if it means he gets to see you bounce on his lap like a woman possessed.
Lips intertwined, clothes askew and hair tousled. The taste of iron—a split lip, he remembers—then moans into your mouth when he remembers how you got it. Is it wrong to say you look your most beautiful when you're mad? He doesn't give a shit if it is, especially if his punishment is your pussy gripping him like a vice. He likes you like this—jealous, protective—it's what drew him to you in the first place, how you bite down on what's your and refuse to let go. From the moment you saw him you staked your claim and he was more than happy to follow you for the ride. "You like it when she touched you?" You mutter, lips pressed against his as you ride him for all your worth. Sweat beads off his brow, eyes closed in bliss, he nods his head no but it's not enough—you want to hear him say it. You teeth dig into the skin of his shoulder, a delicious groan erupting from him as you repeat yourself. "Answer me Lo, did you fucking like it?" "No, no—" he gasps, hands wandering across your body. "Wasn't even looking at her, swear to god—" "And who were you looking at?" you ask, and the answer makes your walls flutter across his cock. He lets you hear him loud and clear, giving you a lop-sided grin as he thrusts up into you.
"You, sweetheart, only you." "Louder," you moan, scratching at the expanse of his back, encouraging him. He repeats himself, fucking into your gushing cunt, his words bringing you to a new high with every thrust. His words are long, drawn out, caught in his throat as he struggles between speaking and catching his breath. "Only got eyes for you baby—fuckin' christ—" He speaks long after you've stopped, so engrossed in pleasure you can barely hear anything beyond your ringing ears and the slap of your ass against his thighs. "All yours baby, all fuckin' yours."
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gojonanami · 1 year ago
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
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summary: it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).
contents: angst then fluff, i promise there's a happy ending, you just have to earn it, shibuya does not happen in this timeline, instead we celebrate gojo, slightly angsty, reflections on events of jjk 0, crack, all of gojo's students (aside yuta and hakari and rirara make an appearance), mentions of sex/pregnancy, innuendo
word count: 2,821
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December 7, 1989. 
A day that had changed the balance of the jujutsu world irrevocably — the day Satoru Gojo had burst onto the scene. 
But to Satoru, the anniversary of that day had meant nothing to him for most of his life. It was another day in the calendar — the caretakers from the Gojo clan cared not for his birthday, as they did his development as the head and face of the Gojo clan. He had received the best of everything — the best foods, the best training, the best room in the compound. 
At least, the strongest sorcerer had. 
Satoru Gojo had barely received anything more than reverent bows, averted gazes, and hushed whispers — and he saw them all, with the six eyes he never had asked for. And Satoru Gojo had grown up without affection or anything of the sort — to the point where he had thought he was simply beyond that — love, compassion, or friendship — no, the only thing he had was duty. 
And birthdays only served as a marker that he had lived another year. 
Until they meant something more — when he had met Suguru, Shoko, and you. And then it had meant something for a little while. It meant a celebration with his friends — with a cake that you and Suguru had hastily made after a mission, while Shoko hung decorations (with the help of one of Suguru’s curses reaching the high points). It had meant forcing Nanami to wear a party hat against his will (Shoko and Haibara’s doing), and Satoru inevitably smearing cake on your face to start an all out food fight (which only ended with Satoru getting scolded and smacked on the head by Yaga, even on his birthday). And it meant you, Suguru, and Shoko giving him his first real birthday present — something he had never received in fifteen years of living. It meant something more. 
Until it didn’t, again. 
Because, now, it was another year he had spent without his best friend. Another year he watched other sorcerers die. Another year he had to spend apart from you and Shoko because you or he had been sent on missions while Shoko was stuck in the infirmary or the morgue. 
And now, this year it was the first time he had a birthday that Suguru wouldn’t age. He would never age again. He would stay 28 forever, and Satoru — he didn’t know what age he’d turn. He hoped he would die before old age or disease took him — he rather not live long enough for that. Although you and Suguru always joked that he would be even better looking as an old man. 
But all Satoru could think about was growing old alone — without anyone else around him. He was the strongest after all, how could anyone else survive? People around him were killed off one by one — and he was left all alone. And maybe that’s why he didn’t like birthdays — it was just another year, another year older — another year marking who had left him. 
And so many did. 
And how many birthdays would pass until he lost another? Would it be one of his students? Would it be Nanami? Would it be Shoko? Would it be you? 
You…you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He had already lost you once. Pushed you away after Geto defected, pushed himself into work until he was burnt out, and pushed away any thoughts that he had of you. It didn’t last. It wasn’t a year until you had battered at his walls and his actual door, forcing your way back into his life. 
And he was thankful you did, because he didn’t know if he would have found his way out of the hole he had dug himself in — before the dirt covered and buried him. 
You — you would never let his birthday go. You never let him go a year without making him feel special, in one way or another. Last year, you had baked him his favorite cake, took him on a trip to a hot spring, and made arrangements to make sure the two of you weren’t disturbed the entire weekend (which was a feat of miracles on par with his six eyes and limitless itself). 
“C’mon, just tell meeeee,” 
And the strongest sorcerer’s snatching your gradebook out of your hand for the millionth time, and you surely look unamused, brow knit together, as you rub your temples, “You know living with you is worse than a child,” 
“Wanna test your theory? I could fill you up right now and nine months—” 
“I’m going to murder you,” and he only shrugs, all too smug. 
“You’d miss me too much,” and he adds, “plus I know you’re strong, but you couldn’t—” 
“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch all week, I don’t care if it is your birthday tomorrow,” and he meets your gaze, and you’re unwavering, as he sighs, and hands over your grade book. 
“We really aren’t doing anything?” your husband asks, raising a single eyebrow curiously, “you always have something up your sleeve, sweetheart,” 
You frown, setting your grade book aside, “I just thought with everything going on — Yuji’s appearance, the special grades running around — I don’t think we should be away right now, and I thought we could do something small, just you and me,” 
He nods slowly, a smile shoddily crafted and pasted on his lips, “Yeah, bet if I leave, the higher ups may try to pull something on Yuji,” he sighs dramatically, leaning his head back on the couch, “what a curse to be the strongest,” 
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “you sure you’re okay with not doing anything?” 
“Of course,” he finds your lips in a kiss.  
But why wasn’t he? 
He wasn’t one to care for things like this. He thought he was beyond caring about things like this. But all he could feel was the festering urge of disappointment seeping into his thoughts. Even the next day, the universe seemed to be against him, sent on a wild goose chase mission to hunt down a supposed special grade only to find two grade A curses that he took care of with ease. 
He trodded back home to you — lips still in a pout that he couldn’t even enjoy his morning with you on his birthday. He didn’t even get to enjoy cuddling with you — woken up to travel across the country to deal with some curses he didn’t need to handle. 
It didn’t used to be like this — sent off to do missions alone. Again and again. Heavy was the head that bore the crown, but no one had mentioned how lonely it was. Lonely even surrounded by those who tried to understand him — and he had you, he had you, but how could anyone truly see him for who he was — when he didn’t feel like he knew who he was anymore. Suguru’s question still rang in his ears — was he the strongest because he was Gojo Satoru, or was he Gojo Satoru because he was the strongest? 
And all these years later, he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know if he would ever know the answer. 
But he didn’t have time to linger on his thoughts as he spotted his home in the distance, but that wasn’t all he saw — there was a lot more cursed energy at home than usual — multiple people in his home, and his lips curled. 
He sneaks up, diminishing his presence to nothing, as he pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear them — 
“Too high, Itadori, lower!” Nobara barked, and Yuuji groaned, “come on, how long is it gonna take you to do this?” 
“Then why don’t you get up here and do it?” he snaps back, and Nobara scoffs. 
“I’m supervising, that’s why,” 
“EH? Who else are you supervising besides me?” 
“Stop messing around you two, and get the banner hung,” Megumi sighs, and Satoru could imagine him scowling, “Inumaki-senpai, do you need more balloons?” 
“Salmon,” 
“Maki, hurry up with cutting those strawberries, Nanami is almost done frosting the cake,” Satoru could hear Panda chewing and then a distinct THUNCK. 
“THEN STOP EATING THEM YOU DAMN ANIMAL!” 
“Alright, alright, stop fighting guys,” Satoru heard you sigh, “Nanami, I hope the frosting and cakes I baked were decent — I followed the recipe you gave me to a tee,” 
“You did a good job from what I could tell, but I’m pretty sure you could feed that idiot a plain cup of sugar, and he’d like it just the same,” and Satoru pouts, hearing Shoko laugh as well. 
“Especially if it’s from you,” Shoko teases you, as you scoff playfully, “can’t believe you two got married still — won’t be long until there are little Gojos running around, if Satoru has his way, with the way he’s been railing you,”
“Can we change the subject?” Nanami asks, disgust evident. 
You only chuckle, “Well, he’s insisted that we start trying once things settle down, saying it never hurts to practice, but—” and then your phone chimes, “Yaga said Toru’s on his way back for a while, he should be close.” 
There’s a mad dash and scramble as they put everything in its place, and Satoru leans against the side of the house — they even put up a curtain to hide their cursed energy on the inside, prioritizing invisibility. 
And Satoru grins  — all this for him? 
“Let me video call him and see where he is — I think I can distract him enough,” and he teleports down the road from his home, as your phone call comes through, “hi birthday boy, are you almost home?” 
“Almost,” he hums, “need something, sweetheart?” 
“Just my lovely husband home so I can cuddle him,” you smile, and he can see you’re walking into your shared bedroom now, sound of the door closing behind you, “got a surprise on for you under this dress,” 
And he’s pausing, “is that right?” And the party ebbs away from his mind, as your fingers slid the straps of your dress down, and teasing the baby blue and white lingerie set underneath, “my perfect birthday gift — all ready for me to unwrap?” 
“As soon as you get home,” and all blood flees his brain and heads southward, “I’ll be waiting,” 
And you disconnect the call — and he’s rushing now, party be damned. He would have you in bed, even if he had to sneak away with you upstairs for five minutes. 
He unlocks the door, and hears several bangs from poppers, as all of his students, colleagues, and friends shout “surprise!” And he smiles, glancing around at the birthday decorations, the birthday cake precariously balanced in Yuji’s hands, and you — grinning right at the front of the group, holding a bouquet of red roses. 
Everyone is stepping up to wish him a happy birthday, even grumbling happy birthdays from Megumi and Maki, as his arms curl around you after, “did I fool you?” 
And he only smiles, “I’m always a fool for you, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, only yielding disgusted groans from most of your students, “and don’t think I forgot about my present,” he whispers, while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “I have a feeling I’ll be tearing off the wrapping soon enough,” he winks. 
You roll your eyes, “Party first, presents later,” your hand finds his as you take him to mingle. 
Satoru doesn’t get his wish of a secret rendezvous with you — but he does get several other gifts from his students — a blue ray of Human Earthworm 4 from Yuji, Crocs from Nobara (“they’re as tacky as you are”), Megumi gives a gift card (Yuji: “No creativity,” Nobara: “Seriously how boring,” and Yuji earns a fist to the head from Megumi). The second years’ pitched in and bought him a book on ‘how to date’ (“it was Yuta’s idea — he’s not sure you know how to date even after getting married”). 
He’s being pulled over to cut the cake that Yuji miraculously only dropped once (but Maki had luckily caught), you at his side, as everyone crowds around for him to cut it, and he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to be understood as the strongest — maybe he can just be understood as Satoru Gojo, and that can be enough. 
And he blows out his candles, as your fingers interlaced with his, and he’s cutting a particularly big chunk to feed you, nearly smearing it over your lips, “What did you wish for—umph—” and he’s kissing you, the sweet frosting didn’t compare to the sweetness of your lips, your fingers finding his shoulder, and he barely hears the groans of his students, parting as you softly pant, beautiful smile spread on your face, “Toru—” 
“I have everything I could wish for,” and he’s pressing his forehead to yours, before you kiss his nose, only to drag some frosting across his cheek, “oi!” 
“That’s for smearing cake all over my face,” you brush the crumbs from your chin, and he only grins wider. 
As he’s pulling you close with an arm around your waist, his breath warm against your lips, “Will you help clean it off?” and you roll your eyes, as his students grimace at his words, booing him. 
You only give a small smile, and kiss his cheek, whispering, “...after they leave,” and they do soon enough, after everyone enjoys their slice of cake and a few drinks (Yuji sneaking a glass of wine when Nanami isn’t looking), they leave to go back home. 
Satoru collapses on the couch first, and then you toss yourself beside him, throwing your legs over his lap, “Tired?” you curl yourself against him, your head finding his shoulder, nose brushing against the warm nape of his neck. 
“Was that mission earlier your doing?” 
“Well how else would I get you out of the house with all your pestering? And knowing you, you would have kept me in bed all morning,” and he laughs, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you properly into his lap. 
“How’d you see my birthday wish list?” and you scoff, as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “you still have one more gift to give me, one that you teased me with earlier,” and his fingers are creeping up your bare thigh, squeezing teasingly at your flesh. 
“Two more, actually,” and he’s tilting his head, as you grab the bouquet of flowers from the coffee table where he had left it, “you missed something in here,” 
And he’s smiling, as he pulls a small box nestled in the middle of the roses, “What’s this—” and his fingers are too quick for his question, as he’s met with your gift. 
Positive. 
He stares — stares if it would disappear before his eyes, that somehow the six eyes were wrong this one time — the one time it mattered. 
“Are you really surprised with all the practice we’ve been getting in?” and he gives a brief chuckle, shaking his head, as you chew your lip at his relative silence, “wow, have I rendered the great Satoru Gojo — the man who never shuts up even when he should — speechless?” he still says nothing, “Toru? Say somethin—” 
And his arms are wrapping you in a hug, pulling you fully into his lap, as he engulfs you in his warmth, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Are you sure I’m the father?” 
You snort, “Satoru, I swear to god, I’m going—” 
And his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, palms cupping your cheeks, as his blue eyes swim with a happiness you’d rarely seen before, as he presses kisses all over your face, until he’s kneeling before your stomach, pressing a sweet kiss to it. 
“You better look like your mom or I’m going to demand a re-do,” 
You huff, “Satoru, we aren’t having another kid for at least three years—” 
“We didn’t mean to have a kid right now, but we are,” he gives a devilish smirk, before you cross your arms, unamused. 
“I swear, we have another kid before three years are up, and I’m sleeping in a separate bedroom,” and his arms are looping around your waist to pull you close. 
“You can’t resist me for that long,” and he’s pulling into a kiss again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your lips part. 
“Try me,” and he pouts before you laugh, tugging him to the bedroom, “come on, birthday boy, I believe I owe you one last present,” and his lips are curled again as he follows you eagerly, your dress over your head and on the bedroom floor before he’s two steps into the room. 
December 7, 2018. 
A day that changed the balance of Satoru Gojo’s family life — for the better. 
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a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff but turned into angst / fluff - as always. i can't write anything w/o angst.
tag list: @merzel69695, @senseiigojo, @forest-fruits-jam, @forest-hashira, @amanemisamisa, @ririthedevil, @a1is0n-png, @chosomoso, @hawkwithsocks, @aliyalala, @icecubesaredelicous, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @acewoo, @sodoney,
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.
it is harder.
it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.
it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?
it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister
on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving
it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.
i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.
it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.
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feitanii-ll · 1 month ago
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ᰔᩚ 𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟, 𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᰔᩚ
husband! katsuki x afab!reader
(implied advances/pursuing (not from katsuki), cursing, hella fluff, little ooc kats.)
★ — in which,, katsuki finds someone trying to pursue his wife in a grocery store.
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katsuki has a lot of pride.
how could he not? being one of the top heros in Japan, bursting through the ranks at unimaginable speeds, accomplishing things that no one else in the world can even comprehend. he's got a house (a few of them), nice cars, neat clothes, ect— overall, an exceptional lifestyle. something that he deserves to be prideful about. things to be proud of. and though he appreciates it; the fame, the wealth, the prestige— nothing, and I mean nothing, trumps the pride he has for you. his wife.
it's all he feels in the moment, staring at you from across the isle of the grocery store, unbeknownst to you. his sweet little wife, going off on a stranger, an absolute weirdo, for not leaving you alone, he believes. for not accepting your rejection, maybe? he can only assume. hell, who cares anymore?
he had driven you both to the grocery store, wanting to do some quick shopping for the upcoming weekend. but your man was just so so tired from working all week, you insisted on going in alone so that he could relax, promising you'd just be a minute.
he took it upon himself to go looking inside the store for you when 45 minutes pass, leading him to now.
katsuki is grinning, almost maniacally as he watches you, arms crossed over his pride-swollen chest. the conversation is something along the lines of,
'I said no, didn't I? back the fuck up.' with your brows furrowed cutely, a disgusted sneer on your face.
when the loser persists, you get loud, almost wanting to make a scene. you cut him off with a, "nuh uh! I'm tryna' be nice, but you're pissing me off, now, sir"
katsuki's still watching, wanting to see how things plays out. he won't let the man get too close. won't let anything escalate further. he just wants to see you handle yourself, like he knows you can. you're his girl, after all.
and when the man doesn't let up, you take to slipping your phone out of your pocket, taking your eyes off the man for only a second to speed dial katsuki. he sees it all, watching as you press the phone to your ear, ready to summon him. he grins wider, biting back a smile when he feels his phone vibrate in his front, right pocket. you're still cursing the stranger out, now embarrassing him in front of the other shoppers as you wait for your husband to answer the phone.
"—don't know what you thought this was. my husband don't play that. he's crazy." you scoff, thoroughly pissed.
and that's the icing on the cake. it's what has him cackling, celebrating, almost to himself. he basically doubles over as his giggles hit him hard. he wasn't expecting those words to come out of your mouth, but God, were they music to his ears.
'thas' my fuckin' girl.' he sighs internally.
you did everything right.
he thinks it's about time he interferes. slipping a cllaosued hand into his front pocket, katsuki pulls out his vibrating phone, declining the call as he approaches you.
the confusion you feel when your husband doesn't answer is temporary. your expression goes from frustrated to surprised when his voice rings out just above you, swimming pleasantly through your ears.
"kats—" you look up, surprised as you meet his gaze, a wave of relief washing over you.
"don't worry, babe," he's still grinning, but the look he gives the man is one of familiarity. you might have to be the one to deescalate the problem now,
"your husband's riiiight here."
your once frustrated features shift at the sound of his voice. his form was so big and imposing behind you, and you knew you were safe.
"baby, I was just gonna grab one more thing for you before paying for the groceries—"
God, he thinks, you were shopping for him.
"don't worry 'bout it, ma." his voice is gruff as it sounds in your ears, rough in a way that it makes you almost plaint. and it's around this time that the stranger realizes just who he's talking to, not expecting dynamite to be in his vicinity.
"you did good. c'mon." he praises as he grabs your hand, leading you to the register and taking the basket from your hands, gingerly.
by the time you get back into your shared vehicle, katsuki is still smiling— like he's on the verge of laughing. it makes you smile, too, albeit, extremely confused.
you slip on your seat belt when you feel the car roar to life, rumbling softly in the background. when you look back uo, you're sighing, flopping back against the seat, exhausted. when you look to your man, he's still grinning. it makes you smile, albeit extremely confused.
"what??" you ask through a giggle, almost desperately, needing to know just what the hell was so damn funny.
he stays silent, simply smiling, and you emphasize again,
"whaat?"
"nothin!" he laughs, palms lifting off the wheel and by his ears in mock surrender, "can't fucking look at ya?"
"you're being weird, kat!" you swat his shoulder playfully, "what arenyou looking at me like that?"
"nothin', baby, nothin'." he's giddy, which is so so odd to you.
"is this about what happened just now." you lift your brows expectantly.
he pauses, and then speaks,
"just... 'm proud of my girl, is all." he shrugs, making a smug face. "told that man off, yeah? told him that your husband is crazy about you? makes me all...I dunno." he trails off, and you laugh.
"what else were you expecting?" you scoff out a laugh, shaking your head. "he was hitting on me, and—"
"baby, you don't gotta explain it to me. just.. know that I'm proud of you." he smiles, and it's so genuine. so pretty. so rare from your husband. your heart races at the praise.
"okay." you whisper, smiling shyly.
"okay." he confirms, looking down at you, still grinning.
he's definitely proud of himself. but not more than he is of you.
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nariism · 4 months ago
Text
letters from heaven — g. satoru
"i think i'm in love with you" + "wait, don't pull away... not yet." + oblivious pining
synopsis. love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries. that was satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens.
wc. 2.4k
— for the lovely @hanrinz 🎀 | event masterlist ✉️
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
If you had asked Gojo Satoru what love tasted like two years ago, he would have answered with a lump in his throat.
Like curses, he would have told you. Like death and destruction. Fire and ash. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Satoru was surrounded by love from his very conception.
Wrapped in silk blankets and bathed in warm milk when he was born into this world—it was as if the nurses thought he had been spoonfed ambrosia by the gods themselves.
He knew what it was like to have his entire clan at his feet with their foreheads pressed to the floor; to be dressed in the finest cloth and only by the most nimble hands; to get anything and everything he ever wanted without question. 
He was above everyone and had the eyes to prove it. He knew love like it was his only purpose.
Satoru was always a head in the clouds kind of guy. He understood his place in the world better than anyone else. That he was special. Gifted. Born with a blessing that only happens once in a millennium.
He hated the righteous above all. The ones who wanted to change the world that was promised to him from the moment he took his first breath. It was insulting; an act of defiance against the gods. Against him.
That is why he hated Geto Suguru—someone who wanted to change the world.
Satoru believed that he was too down to earth. It irritated him. But he never stopped being surrounded by love and never stopped loving, either.
For some reason, there was a strange comfort in standing alongside another. 
Perhaps it was that Suguru had never once bowed down before him—the fact that he had gotten the chance to memorize every inch of his beautiful face. Or maybe it was the tender way he had spoken his name, so soft and filled with adoration.
For the first time in his life, he felt like he was more than just his eyes.
Satoru adored and despised every part of Geto Suguru. He always would, even in death.
He thought that secret would die with him. That there was no one else worthy of standing by his side. He never thought he was capable of loving another again.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
(He was about to learn that love would loom over him wherever he went. It would chase him relentlessly, even if it were to the ends of the earth.
After all, Gojo Satoru was born to be enveloped in silk and sugar and everything wonderful in the world.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries.
That was Satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens with a misfired blast of energy. 
There was nothing particularly spectacular about you. There you were: horrified, head in your hands, crying over the phone to what he presumed to be your parents. He'd never seen someone doused in flour like you before, as if you had been plucked straight out of a cartoon.
Yet he remembers that his breath was stolen from him the way books described it.
Your very existence felt like it was built up from cubes of sugar. He was embarrassed that it was his first impression while you glared horribly at him.
The lawsuit came in the mail a few days later.
He paid, of course, without argument. And he tried to get your number afterwards because he really wanted to try that cake you were decorating before he blasted your shop to pieces.
You slapped him across the face and he let you. He even released his technique just so you could.
To your dismay, he kept showing up at the shop after it had been rebuilt. But he was a paying customer, and who were you to deny him a slice of butterscotch pie?
Still, he laughed at your ever-growing irritation with his presence. How he would preorder cakes days in advance just so you could anticipate his arrival. The way he would drop an extra five thousand yen on the counter and tell you to keep the change.
"Don't make me get a restraining order," you had once threatened him while he browsed the cupcake selection for the day.
"You wouldn't," he sang. And you didn't, because he knew your type.
You were the opposite of the one he loved most in the world. You wanted to make as little of a splash as you could—to bake pies and frost cakes with buttercream roses and wipe down your counters until they sparkled.
You knew your place in the world just as much as he knew his. And it seemed to be right behind the counter with a scowl on your face because of another poor attempt at flirting.
You didn't want to change the world. You just wanted to live in it, flour and all.
He found comfort in that, too.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Satoru became your midday companion when business slowed down. The sound of the bell strung to your front entrance brought you comfort when you were stressed about your little shop.
A part of you knew that this man was no ordinary human being. His eyes shimmered bluer than the sky when he would look at you with affection, nearly making your knees buckle beneath you on more than one occasion.
"What do you do at work?" You asked him curiously one afternoon as he sat on a stool watching you mindlessly pipe frosting.
"...Nothing important," he panicked, the thought of scaring you away when you had just started opening up to him too much for him to handle.
"Nothing important," you hummed, repeating his words until your eyes narrowed. "You're lying."
"I am," he admitted shamelessly.
You looked at him in confusion, not missing the way he avoided making eye contact by burrowing his head into his arms. Through the glass of your display case, you could see his shoulders bunch up in distress.
You decided to drop it. It wasn't important.
"Here," you said softly, reaching around the glass separating you to place a dessert in front of him. "Don't worry about it."
Satoru gazed at the plate before him. Chocolate ganache and strawberries layered between sponge cake.
"This is for me?" He asked, poking at it with the fork as a grin split his cheeks.
"Just for you," you smiled. "As an apology for slapping you."
"I deserved it. I blew up your shop."
Your smile only deepened. "Sometimes things need to be destroyed to be rebuilt even better."
The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer of his time was reduced to a puddle at your next words,
"I met you, after all. Didn't I?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Love tastes like champagne-raspberry truffles and cappuccino chocolates.
On the day he planned to confess, you unconvincingly glared at him as he approached you with his hands behind his back.
You pursed your lips, expecting him to demand you make him something out of season. Outlandish requests were not new from him, but you always managed to whip up something that had fruits imported from South America, or using that expensive hojicha he insisted you take off his hands.
Instead, he held out a box of lavish chocolates he bought in Belgium.
Nervousness replaced the confidence that was permanently etched into his every feature, and your expression melted into something mellower than the warmth simmering in the pit of Satoru's tummy.
He had been pining for you for months. There was something about your company that made him feel whole again—more whole than he had been in all the time since Geto Suguru left this earth.
You laughed as if it were a joke, using your palm to hide how you flushed slightly.
"Satoru..." You quirked a brow. "What's this?"
The way you said his name stuck arrows through his heart. You could act like you hated him all you wanted, but the way you smiled at him when he wasn't being a prick was enough for him to feel comforted.
"Chocolates from Europe," he straightened up, trying to shake off his nerves.
"Why?"
Why? His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth and he sucked on it in anxious thought, suddenly unsure of the right thing to say even though he had practiced all night.
Wasn't it obvious that he liked you?
You took the box from his hands and placed it down on the counter. Then you rounded it, picked up your spatula, and continued folding your meringue.
Satoru's silence made you glance back up, scrutinizing his downcast, troubled expression. You huffed through your nose with an exasperated little shake of the head.
"Save some nice things for yourself, too."
He was surprised when you reappeared in front of him. His eyes trailed from your sneakers, up your dirty apron to your smiling face.
Chocolate was melting between your fingers.
His grunts of protest were muffled as you stuck the treat against his lips, forcing it into his mouth. He glared at you, but ate it anyway.
Sugar coated his tongue and eased his nerves. You only laughed at his fluster.
He pinched your cheek.
You didn't know that Satoru already had everything else he ever needed. The only thing left was standing right in front of him.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Love is easy to taste when it's on your lips.
At least, that was the thought driving Satoru insane.
He didn't know when such an obsessive idea started plaguing him, or how to remedy it. For the first time in his life, he felt like a boy with a silly, childish crush.
Worst of all, you seemed none the wiser. All his attempts to make a move on you fell flat—though, he wasn't very good at following through with them in the first place.
It culminated in his final attempt to rid the terrible thought from his mind: he was going to avoid you at all costs until it blew over.
If he could just have the time to get over you, to move on from his feelings, he could probably act with some normalcy around you again. It was tiresome to tread on eggshells around you, even if you were blissfully unaware of it.
You, however, did not take his avoidance very well. He did not see that coming.
Satoru's phone rang at 3:24 am, well past your store hours. In fact, you were supposed to be waking up in another hour and a half to get all your prep done.
"Hello?" Your timid voice crackled through the static of his phone and he jolted upright, fisting his blanket in anticipation. "Satoru? Are you up?"
He swallowed thickly, mouth moving to formulate an answer with a strange amount of effort. "Yeah," he said, voice hoarse from sleep.
The other end of the line was silent for another moment before there was a loud crash, and he could make out the distinct clatter of metal bowls hitting tile.
He could imagine you standing there in defeat, surrounded by dirty dishes and drowning in work, trying to catch up for the next morning.
The thought was enough for him to rip out of his sheets, a flurry of limbs as he got dressed to find you.
"Hang on," he told you over the phone, then hung up.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You had not anticipated that Satoru's very obvious avoidance would take such a toll on you.
You'd let it escalate until you were overwhelmed with emotion, unfocused at work, and not able to untangle the feelings you had for him.
And now he was standing in your shop again, helping you pick up everything you had clumsily scattered across the ground.
Whipped cream and icing spilled on the floor, painting the tile an array of pastel colours. You grimaced at the mess, thinking maybe you should just close the shop for the day and take a vacation.
Satoru was dutifully wiping up cream as if he were being paid to do it. But he wasn't—he was just too kind to you. Too generous. You desperately wished he would get mad at you for waking him in the middle of the night.
Instead, he only seemed concentrated and slightly concerned.
"That's enough," you told him quietly, standing up to discard the towels you used. "I'll clean up the rest tomorrow."
Satoru stood up with you, trying to decipher the doomstruck expression on your face.
"I'll come by tomorrow to help."
You shook your head. "It's okay, you've done so much already. Thank you."
Everything about him had grown so familiar, so warm. You missed him more than you cared to admit, and that scared you. In the three weeks since you had last seen him, it finally came crashing down on you.
You liked Satoru.
The thought was heady and overwhelming in your mind. You stumbled a bit and he caught you by the shoulders.
"Woah there," he chuckled lightly, finally able to make out the look in your eyes.
"Sato—" your lip wobbled and he stopped it with his thumb. Then, he used his fingers to clean up the icing decorating your face.
"I got you."
He snorted softly at your dazed expression, drawing away from you. Your hands shot up to grasp at him, keeping him in your bubble. 
"Please don't pull away."
Satoru stilled, letting you drag him back into your personal space. "M'not going anywhere."
You weakly punched him in the chest, fist remaining there for a moment before you let it fall limp. Glaring at him, you sniffled.
"You're avoiding me."
"I was," he admitted.
"What happened?"
"I realized that I liked you a lot more than I thought."
Silence hugged your bodies, heavy and stiff. You blinked at him in surprise, having trouble processing his words.
"H-Huh?"
"I like you," he said again, more adamant. More confident.
"Oh," you breathed. Heat enveloped Satoru's heart at how relieved you sounded. "That makes me..."
Your face morphed from relief to realization. Realization of the situation, of how close your bodies were.
"Really happy," you concluded, squeezing your eyes shut as his hands adjusted to cup your face a little more intimately.
He kissed the apple of your cheek, making sure not to skip over the spot where icing lingered.
The thought entered his mind: I am exactly where I need to be.
Gojo Satoru was born to be loved. It tastes like maple buttercream. And it's spilled all over the floor, stained on his hands and knees. Between his fingers. Melting on his tongue.
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stevieschrodinger · 1 year ago
Text
Part One
Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part two
"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"
"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.
"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."
"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."
"I, ah, don't?"
"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"
"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."
"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."
"That sounds really really great-"
"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"
The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."
Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.
"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"
Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"
"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"
Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"
"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"
Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"
"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"
"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"
"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."
"Yeah? You mean it?"
"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."
"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."
Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.
"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."
"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.
"I ah, music?"
"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.
"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."
All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.
"Oh right, and what's the band called?"
"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."
After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.
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hyunnie04 · 10 months ago
Text
somethin' stupid
"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you."
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yang jeongin x reader, fluff | m.list
wc: 1.2k | happy birthday innie ♡
“i'm not really interested… i'm sorry.”
you watch jeongin as he rejects yet another girl. you feel sorry for her as she stands awkwardly in the middle of the quaint cafe, fiddling anxiously with the ends of her shirt.
thankfully, the establishment was relatively empty, save for a few people discretely listening in. she goes on to nod and ramble on further until she had noticed your presence.
"-oh, i didn't realize you have a partner. sorry." her eyes dart over towards you, blush wildly painting her cheeks. she was already gone by the time you could correct her, scuttling away and leaving a trail of gossip in her wake. jeongin watches her leave, pursing his lips.
"you could've let her down easily. the poor girl was shaking..." you voiced out, stirring your iced americano and watching the ice melt bit by bit.
jeongin sighs and takes his seat across from you, taking a sip out of his own cup. he brushes your comment off and starts to talk about a different topic altogether, returning to his smiley demeanor.
you knew how jeongin was. he didn't hesitate to say no whenever someone would just come up to him, asking for his number. it happens more often than not, professions of love seemingly happening out of no where.
you were also used to it, getting stopped so frequently whenever you went out with him. dozens of people that had tried to ask him out only ended in disappointment.
he was seemingly disinterested in things like love. the topic had always eluded him, if you didn't know him any better you could have said he was uncomfortable with the idea. but you didn't pry, he must have a pretty good reason. it was understandable too, his line of work didn't exactly allow it anyways.
despite this, you have admired him in silence ever since the beginning. the feelings that had festered inside of you were kept bottled up until they threatened to spill over. and they almost did, but friendship mattered more and shot down the idea before it could ruin everything.
admittedly, there are days where you just want to explode, to confess and just get it over with. you were a hundred percent positive it would end just the same for you. the preconceived notion of him not liking you in that way, you don't think you could handle it. thinking about being rejected so coldly sends shivers down your spine.
the iced americano that sits in your hands start to sting after a while, but you pay no mind to it. the firm grip you had on it reminds you, mulling over the interaction you had earlier as he rambles about another topic. little things like paying for your coffee and bringing you other small items even if it was his birthday had in short, confused you.
maybe you're misinterpreting and just imagining things. but the way jeongin is adamant that he pays for your order every single time, or the way his hand brushes against yours more often than not and how the warmth of them lingered, says otherwise.
you also notice how he didn't correct the girl's assumption about you two.
the wind dishevels his hair upon stepping out of the cafe, rays of sunlight peaking through the leaves start to dim in the afternoon. the two of you walk for a while, kicking pebbles and rocks in comfortable silence. your head is still occupied with thoughts of him.
another thought comes into your mind amidst the internal chaos, "i almost forgot! i still need to buy you a cake." it had completely slipped from your mind, forgetting why you agreed to go out in the first place.
"it's okay, really." he laughs as you tug him along the sidewalk. you need to do something else to distract your mind and fast. jeongin jogs beside you, keeping up with your pace. it seemed like you weren't taking no for an answer and stopped right in front of a pastry shop.
"is this what you were talking about?" he hums with a grin, leaning down to browse the lines and lines of delicious looking cakes displayed in the glass casing. you made no move to go in just yet, letting him choose silently. his hair, still disheveled and tousled from the wind yet ethereal all the same.
"what if i said i liked you?"
the abrupt stupid question escapes your mouth before you could catch it. his face slowly contorts into an expression, one you could not decipher right away upon hearing it. his back straightens up as keen eyes start to focus on you.
"j-just a hypothetical! i was just really curious because of earlier and it's not serious or-" you wave your hands in front as if to physically wave it off.
"-forget i said anything." you turn your head away, voice becoming tiny and unintelligible. you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. jeongin says nothing as the tip of your ears burn a bright crimson.
you've done it now, y/n.
"hey," he nudges your side with that eye-crinkling smile you've come accustomed to.
"did you ever wonder why i keep rejecting them?" jeongin now had his hands in his pockets, a small pout forming on his lips as he pops his own query to you, staring back at the glass casings.
you said nothing, unable to respond with a reply or conclusion that would most likely be accurate, you've already embarrassed yourself in front of him today.
jeongin flicks your forehead and scoffs, “that's because i like you, idiot.”
"it was always you." his eyes were downcast, looking everywhere but yours.
you have gone unresponsive at this point. incredulous eyes stared back at him as you feel your throat dry up. it was because of you? were you dreaming? you must be.
"w-what? really?" you say quite densely whilst rubbing the sore spot on your forehead. he laughs, finally turning to you. "yes, i'm serious."
the wind blows harder this time, removing the locks that obscured his beautifully dimpled face. jeongin's eyes are still trained on you with such longing that you don't recall ever seeing on him, ultimately reminding you that this was indeed real.
"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you to say those words." you breathe out in relief, one that you weren't even aware of holding.
the proximity between you two sends electrifying shocks, the mere presence of each other is enough to fluster. "i like you too." the words finally make it out of your throat.
you two burst in abrupt laughter, the tip-toeing around the situation suddenly feeling silly. a mixture look of understanding, relief, and love is shared between you two, smiling like love sick fools.
jeongin starts to drag you away by your coat, mimicking how you did to him earlier. "ah! wait, but your cake..." you see the establishment grow smaller and smaller as he drags you away.
"we don't need to worry about that now."
"can i at least buy you a present?" you reply, picking up your feet and walking alongside him. he has a wide grin on his face as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "got my present right here."
you mousily stop in your tracks as a deeper shade of crimson blooms across your face. the two of you walk side by side upon your recovery, pinky fingers now intertwined shyly around each other.
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ashherahh · 4 months ago
Text
a love letter from your future spouse
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Note: Please take it if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. Meditate before making your decision. It's completely okay if you don't resonate with this reading. The collective is huge and I'm sure you'll receive the messages you need in due time.
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pile 1
I wish I could comfort you. I hate seeing you this way, like the light has been snuffed out of you. I want to make it all up to you. Lay your head on my lap and let me comfort you.
I can be the shoulder you cry on. I can be with you through the storm.
Everything you are working so hard to achieve will all work out. I know you feel like it won't happen but I will be there, cheering you on. I know you can do anything you set your mind to.
This will pass. No matter what happens we will get through it together.
Things may seem as though they are falling apart, but we will rebuild together. We'll fix anything that needs fixing. You can be vulnerable with me, you don't have to do it alone.
At times, I wish you would trust me with everything but I'm reminded by how you never let anyone else see you this way. Uneasy and unsure of things. Being vulnerable is difficult for you, I know. You've always had to be independent and you couldn't rely on others, but you can rely on me.
Tell me what you need and I will give you all I can.
Additional messages: Summer, Autumn. The number 5. Computer screens, messy hair. Fatigue. Coffee. Red, blue, green. Checkered floors.
About your spouse: They're someone very in tune with you. A very, very intuitive individual. It really affects them whenever you go through something. Despite being so in tune with you, they're solid like a rock. They can be quite paternal.
Song: Don't Cry - Guns & Roses
pile 2
You are the most badass person I know.
You've come a long way and I am so proud of you. Every day I'm with you, I'm in awe of your strength. I know you've pulled yourself out of dark places and you've always done it alone but not anymore and never again.
I love your smile. Your smile makes me smile. You make me laugh. Despite everything you've been through you're one of the most optimistic people I know, if not the most optimistic.
I love you so much. More than I can put into words. Sometimes I do struggle with my words, I know but I want you to know that I mean what I say. When I told you I love you, I meant it and I always will.
We will build our home and it will be our place of solace. We'll eat cake whenever we want and we'll go exploring together. You've turned my life into an adventure.
I love listening to you talk. I can listen to you all day long. Everything in my life feels so vibrant because of you. Thank you, my love. I am so greatful I met you.
Additional messages: Gorillaz. Band t-shirts. Eyes. Hands. The numbers 1 and 8. Baking. Black and brown. Glasses. December.
About your spouse: Their inner world is very expressive. They're shy, but on the inside there's a lot happening. They like to look at you, probably with hearts in their eyes all the time. They might even make music.
Song: Things That Scare Me - Neko Case
pile 3
I will never rush you. You are not a burden to love and you are not a burden to understand either.
I will give you the patience no one else wanted to. I will hold your hand through the dark days. For better or worse. In sickness and health. Sometimes I feel like I made those vows in my heart the first time I spoke to you.
Everything sung in me that you will be the one I wake up to in the morning. When I rest my head at night, I thank everything good that I have you in my life. What is trouble against a lifetime with the one you love?
In a way, you saved me. I think of the day I met you all the time, how suddenly everything changed. I feel it when I hold your hand, when we embrace, when I kiss you and you kiss me. Softly, I am reminded of how safe I felt as a child and how peaceful everything was. You brought that peace back to me.
Over the years anxiety began to build in me, I can't say I know when it began but it ended with you. The kindness, gentlessness, and understanding you've shown me has completely transformed me. I don't think you know you did that. That's just how you are. I love you for who you are.
You might believe that you will never find me but you will. I will find you. We will walk into each others lives and we won't remember a day when things were not as they are right now.
Additional messages: Painting. Driving. Number 11. Writing. March and August. Piercings and tattoos.
About your spouse: They're very logical in all situations but when it comes to you they kind of calm down. They might be in a field where they talk a lot. They're aloof.
Song: Sure Thing - Miguel
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incorrectbatfam · 2 months ago
Note
Retail steph with damian and Jon? :) i love retail steph so much
(featuring Billy Batson because he only adds chaos and I love him)
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[grocery store]
Steph, working the bakery section: How can I help you boys today?
Jon: We're getting a cake for our friend's birthday. Chocolate with buttercream frosting, please. 
Steph: Do you want it to say anything? 
Jon: Yes. "Happy 14th B-day, Billy!"
Steph: What color?
Damian: Red. 
Steph: *starts writing on the cake*
Damian: Please also add: "Despite your shortcomings and lack of maturity, you are a valuable part of our team and as you get older, I expect you to gain greater wisdom that will aid us in our goals and prospects."
Steph: *struggling to fit it on the cake*
———————
[coffee shop]
Damian: Can we try the five-drink espresso flight?
Steph: You sure?
Billy, eyeing an unsuspecting Jon: Yes.
Steph: Alrighty.
*moments later*
Jon, after his fifth espresso: I'M KING OF THE UNIVERSE!
Jon: *shoots through the ceiling*
Damian: *grumbles and hands Billy ten bucks*
Steph, sighing: I'll get the broom.
———————
[clothing store]
Jon: *dancing in the dressing room with light-up shoes*
Damian: *T-posing in a trenchcoat*
Billy: *filming them*
Steph: What are you doing?
Billy: Making a TikTok. 
Steph: Well, you can't have cameras in the dressing rooms. I'm gonna have to ask you to stop. 
———————
[drive-thru]
Damian: One vegetarian Batburger, one regular Batburger, and one order of Night-Wings. And an extra-extra-extra large Ivy Salad.
Steph: Did you take the Batmobile again? 
Damian: No. 
Steph: Why don't you pull up to the window and prove it? 
Damian, Jon, and Billy: *ride up on Bat-Cow*
———————
[furniture store]
Jon: What's a warranty?
Damian: It's a court order to arrest someone. 
Steph: That's a warrant. A warranty covers the cost of something if it gets damaged within a certain amount of time. In our case, the store has a one-year warranty on all items. What are you looking to buy?
Billy: *enters pushing a Pinball machine*
Damian: ...It's for school.
———————
[restaurant]
Steph: What can I get you?
Damian: We'll split a pizza. 
Steph: Okay, anything else?
Billy, as Shazam: An alcohol.
Steph: "An alcohol?"
Billy: Yes, your finest alcohol. Sharing size, please.
Steph: I'll need to see some ID.
Billy, nervous: What's there to see? I'm clearly an adult. 
Steph: I need them for everyone at the table. 
Damian: *pulls out Jason's crime lord license*
Jon: *sticks on a fake mustache*
———————
[call center]
Steph, stifling a yawn: Wayne Enterprises account support, how can I help you? 
Damian: Why are you still working? It's midnight. 
Steph: Overnight shift. This is a 24-hour line. What do you need, Damian?
Damian: Nothing. We just wanted to annoy you. 
Steph: We?
Jon: Hiya!
Billy: 'Sup.
———————
[sleepover at the Manor]
Steph: Alfred told me to bring you some snacks.
Damian: Excellent. 
Steph: *leaves the room*
Steph, internally: What do kids these days even do at sleepovers? 
Steph: *presses her ear to the door*
Damian: Truth or Dare? 
Jon: Truth. 
Damian: Which one of my siblings do you like best?
Jon: Steph, all the way.
Billy: I agree, she's the coolest. Remember when she drove us to get midnight breakfast on my birthday?
Jon: And when she promised not to tell my parents when I broke the café ceiling.
Billy: Or when she took us for a walk and actually explained why we couldn't make TikToks in the store instead of going "because I said so" like other adults. 
Jon: Plus, she gave all the leftover salad to Bat-Cow and helped us set up the Pinball machine downstairs.
Billy: Ooh, and she's really good at making mocktails. 
Jon: Also, she extended our free trial of the Daily Planet for our social studies project. 
Damian: Hm... point taken.
Billy: And she's hot.
Damian: Say that again and I will smite you with your own powers.  
Steph: *smiles softly*
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago
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hi can I please make an order of crème caramel, berry trifle, mango sorbet and a spicy upside down cake with a side of lemon water served by Max Verstappen please? Sorry it's a bit long tho...
bakery menu
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu, i'd love to hear your order! and thank you to everyone who submitted orders! i am working through them!!
crème caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?" ) + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + mango sorbet ("you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?") + spicy upside down cake ( "let's play a game: don't get caught.") + lemon water (university/college au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, university au, bully!max, mean!max, semi-public sex, library sex, fwb gone horrible, dirty talk/degrading language, obsessive!max, oral sex (max receives), choking/deep throating
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"where are you going, schat?" max loomed over you like a heavy cloud as he placed his hands on your hips. he held you like he owned you, and in all fairness... sometimes it felt like he did.
you thought the one time you'd try to have a one night stand that everything would go swimmingly. but you picked the wrong man on campus.
graduate student, about three years your senior. with hands like bear paws and about the same strength as one in his grip. and he held you in the middle of the library.
"you just came in and now you're turning around in leaving? surely you had something to do here today. it was close to eight in the evening, the library was next to dead. you remained silent for a moment before he added, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me? is that it, you thought you could leave before i found you?"
you swallowed and lied, "i forgot something."
he chuckled as he leaned in a little closer, "was it your panties? because i found them in my car yesterday. pink with flowers? they kept me busy all of last night when you were ignoring my texts." he held onto you a little tighter, "it's not polite to ignore me, liefje."
the issue was that you wanted a one night stand with someone outside of your little english department. so you ended up with a geography graduate student... however, after that night, max became your shadow.
"what did you do to my panties, max?"
he let go of you and turned you in his arms. he smiled at you, the kind of smile that most at the school would trip over themselves to see. but you could see something else in those blue eyes, "don't worry, i washed them when i was done." then leaned in to kiss you on the cheek.
you pulled back a little, but couldn't go far as he had you basically trapped against him. you could call for help, but the student librarian at the front desk was more occupied with her phone.
max pulled your attention back to him as he said, "why don't we study together? think of it like a date."
you'd never date someone like max. not even as his thumbs tried to push up your t-shirt a little, you managed to get away. you swallowed, you could run and hide. but, max had more eyes on the school than cameras. someone would catch a glimpse of you somewhere on campus and max would find you.
max verstappen was denied very little in his life. and he wasn't going to start of trend of not getting his way.
"so why were you running away, my love?" he asked as he pressed himself up against you. his strong arms were around you middle as he pressed you to him. he smiled was threatening and you felt a cold chill down your spine.
"i told you. i forgot something." you tried to use the last bit of fight in you. but those eyes of his were all knowing.
"wrong. try again." he said before he went in and kissed you on the cheek, "i remember our first night together. you made me feel like nothing else could. you made me feel alive. i hate when you run away from me." he kissed the corner of your lip softly, "now, why don't we study tonight."
you looked up at him. he was a bit taller than you and for sure stronger. the gaze in his eyes warmed up when you nodded, accepting his offer for studying.
see, you knew what max needed. he wanted to be closer to you, he wanted to feel you all over. he even wanted to take you out on dates and make you the center of his world. he was obsessed with you, and you just needed to see that he loved you. but that meant less struggling.
he led you into the back of the library, the furthest part with two chairs in a desk. there was no one else around for a good while. most had left for the evening. which left you alone with max.
"liefje." he said as he sat on the chair and unzipped his fly, "come here." it was a siren's call before he sank his teeth into you. before he ripped you to shreds and drag you under the waves.
you knew what you had to do, you were thankful that the pants you wore were comfy because you knew that one round, even in a semi-public space, wouldn't be enough for max. you knew another pair of your panties would end up in his car.
he watched you lower to your knees and licked his lips, you looked like a doll to him. he said quietly, "let's play a game: don't get caught." before he ran his hands through your hair.
your face was up against his cock and you shuddered a little bit. the size of it was impressive and it made your mouth water a little. this was how he trapped you. the allure of his heavy cock in your face.
with a small whine he pushed your face further against his cock and you had no choice but to take it in your mouth. but few pleasantries were made when he got the tip up against your throat. you whined a little bit, it was almost a whorish noise as you relaxed against his grasp.
mad max, mean max, whatever you wanted to call him. you felt almost at home on your knees in front of him. he was your hook up gone wrong. horribly wrong.
his voice was a curl in your brain and made you shift a little bit on the carpeted ground, "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?" he knew you had to take an extra semester because you failed a course. in a slight fairness it was max's fault, he wouldn't let you go write your final exam. too busy bruising that cunt of yours well into the morning.
even if you tried to write the exam all your brain cells were gone due to how hard hew as fucking you. even now, with his cock in your throat, you felt a loss in most brain activity. no higher thinking while he was choking you on his cock.
you felt amazing around his cock, there were few words to describe how it all felt. he could feel the flutter in his chest as he rammed his cock up against your throat. and when you made a choking noise, he told you to "shut up." before he kept battering his cock up against the back of your throat.
you looked up at him, your eyes looked so innocent as he pressed his cock into your throat as deep as it would go. he still had a lot to teach you about deep throating, but for now he'd take a small pleasure in your choked noises.
"such a pretty girl." he said, "you look so good on your knees. is this how you were passing all your courses? pretty blouses and dick sucking lips." he chuckled lowly as he gripped onto your head further.
you whimpered a little bit as you held onto his strong thighs as you worked yourself onto his cock. you felt the buzz in your head as you continued to move your head.
"this is how i like you. i don't get why you don't understand that. most would kill for a chance to be in your spot. but you get it so easily." he said in a low, harsh tone.
you whined a little bit and arched your back. you felt your body splashed with heat. you trembled a little bit with a certain want. max verstappen knew how to play you like a fiddle. he knew how to take you apart and put all your pieces back together as he liked them.
"such a good girl for me. i'm glad i got a hold of you before you became a slut. now you can't cum on anyone's dick but mine." he said harshly.
in the back corner of the library you gave him head. your brain felt unfocused as he bullied the tip up against your pretty throat. he wanted to bruise it so you couldn't talk for a few days.
"no need to speak words, liefje. not when your boyfriend could do all the talking for you." he said and the words marked on your brain and made your core soaked.
"max." you tried to say with his cock in your mouth.
"shush." he said.
you looked at him once more before his grip on you started to tighten even more. he pushed his cock up against your throat once more, you knew it would be bruised come morning.
you whined and relaxed yourself enough for him to finish down your throat. he groaned and held onto you as he finished in your mouth. you tasted the saltiness down your throat. and your mind went little a blurry for a moment.
when you got your mouth off his cock, you rested your face on his thigh and looked up at him. max was almost sweet when he brushed the side of your face.
"you should be studying how to make me feel good. stupid little thing already knows enough about english." he pinched your cheeks, "be my bride."
you pouted a little, your lips glossed with spit and pre cum, "no, max."
he sighed before he gripped your hair again, "enough thinking. get on the table. i'm not done with you." max knew you inside and out, no other man on campus could compare to him. he'll teach you eventually, that his love was the only one you needed.
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revasserium · 2 months ago
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chapter one: a shadow of the past
roronoa zoro; 3,225 words; angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mostly enemies in this chapter, tragic!backstory, flashbacks, slightly canon divergent, baroqueworks!reader, no "y/n"
summary: in which zoro will always find you, even if you don't want to be found
a/n: not much to say here other than enjoy! :)
< to the table of contents
It would be months before he sees you again, months before he runs across the typeset of your codename, on a wanted poster with an obscene amount of Berry tacked underneath — more, he thinks, dully, than the last time he’d seen it.
MS. DOUBLE-NINES — WANTED — 90,000,000 BERRY.
“Agent from Baroque Works… seems like a bad lot,” Sanji says, frowning as he squints at the poster, smoke curling from between his teeth.
“Yeah, dunno about that,” Zoro reaches out to rip the poster from the wall, crumpling it in his fist.
“There a story you wanna tell us, moss-head?” Sanji asks, slating Zoro a long glance.
Zoro scoffs, “Barely,” but at a hard look from Nami, he relents, rolling his eyes, “they sent someone called Mr. 7 to recruit me a while back.”
“And…?” Nami asks, probing as the three of them turn back towards the bustling street market, Usopp and Luffy already halfway down the street, chattering about lunch.
“And nothin’. I took care of him.” Zoro makes to toss the crumpled poster onto the ground but he pauses, glancing down at his hands, “the Marines still owe me his bounty though.”
Sanji laughs, even as Nami scoffs.
“Well, let’s try to stay out of their way till we get out of here,” Nami says, eyes caught on the poster in Zoro’s hands, “at least in the Grand Line, there’ll be bigger fish for them to fry.”
Zoro wets his lips, staring down at your disfigured face before tossing it aside.
“If you say so.”
— — —
You have the most delicate hands — nimble fingers and soft, marshmallow palms. You’d cradle the miniscule wooden knife just so, slipping the dulled edge along the tops of the homemade wagashi, making marks in perfect intervals until the cake resembled a flower, just so.
“Okay, now who wants a piece?” you’d ask, giggling as the boys all scrambled over themselves, raising their hands and hooting like monkeys.
Zoro always held back, feigning disinterest, even though his mouth would water just the same.
“Here, a piece for you too,” you’d say, after giving everyone their due share. Behind you, the other boys would always be squabbling for an extra slice, fighting over the crumbles left on the thin rice paper packaging.
“Don’t want it,” he’d say, looking anywhere but at the tantalizing slice of wagashi, the soft lotus-paste insides nearly translucent, the pastel mochi exterior the perfect amount of sticky and sweet.
His mouth goes dry as you hold it up in front of him, cupped in your palms like just-found treasure.
“Everyone else got a piece,” you say, as if that’s reason enough for him to forgo his abstinence.
He swallows.
“Don’t move.”
His eyes flicker open to the shape of you, crouching by his hammock, a knife held to his throat. Outside, the night is thick and moonless, the seawater lapping softly at the sides of the ship.
Zoro huffs out a breath, “Or what?”
He blinks, the afterimages of the dream still solid behind his eyelids.
“Not sure yet, but I’d bet you wouldn’t like the answer, either way,” you say, your voice barely more than a hiss as you shift the blade from one hand to another and he feels the sharp edge of it skim along his skin.
You’re careful not to break any skin as you pull back, ever so slightly, allowing him to sit up.
“What’dyou want?” he asks, moving slow, fingers inching towards his swords, propped by the hammock’s side.
“Nothing too much,” you answer, “just a free ride off this island. And the next time you dock, you’ll never see me again.”
Zoro scoffs, “That a promise?”
Even in the dark, your grin slants crescent-moon sharp. Zoro blinks again, his mind fighting to reconcile the image of you as a child over the shadow hunched over him now, holding a knife to his throat.
“Something like that,” you say, your eyes flickering down to where his fingers are inches from his swords. Zoro sighs, tugging his hand back.
“Fine — but one condition,” he says.
You hike an eyebrow, “From where I’m sitting, you’re not exactly in the position to be making demands.”
Zoro smirks, folding his arms across his chest and stretching out on his hammock.
“And from where I’m sitting — we’re one alarm away from my entire crew wakin’ up. And… they might not be as good as you one on one but… all together?” he shrugs, “I mean, you do the math.”
Your lips curl into a contemptuous snarl, but you don’t fight him on it. Instead, you pull the knife away, tucking it into your belt.
“Fine. What’s your condition?”
Zoro peers at you from a half-lidded eye, “Tell me what happened to you.”
You puff out a laugh, leaning back against a wooden barrel, propping your arm on your knee.
“It’s kind of a long story.”
Zoro motions towards the darkened window, “We’ve got a lotta time.”
You turn your head away, “Maybe tomorrow,” you say, your voice low and fractured.
Zoro frowns, “You made a promise.”
You cast him a faint, woeful smile, “Yeah, but I never told you when I’d tell you the story.”
— — —
The next morning, you awaken to a wide-eyed stare from a boy who couldn’t have been much older than you, grinning ear to ear.
“Hi!”
“W-what the —”
You scramble backwards before realizing that your back is already pressed against the wall.
“Oh! Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up!” the boy leans back, still grinning, propping both his hands on his hips as he stares down at you. Behind him, you can see the shape of Zoro, leaning by the door, swords at his side, a smirk on his face.
“What the hell’s going on here?” you ask, shooting him a dirty look, “you made a promise,” you spit the word back in his face.
Zoro shrugs, “Yeah, but I never said your free ride would be a secret.”
Your eyes narrow into slits as the boy standing over you claps a fist to his palm, turning towards Zoro.
“Oh! I remember now — we saw her on one of the wanted posters! You’re uhm — Ms… Ninety-Nine?”
You wince, sighing as you push yourself up and dust off your trousers, “Miss Double-Nines, but… close enough.”
Zoro snickers.
“I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m the Captain of this ship! But… I gotta say, your name is way cooler. Did you get to pick it yourself? Or did someone at Bara-Rock Works give it to you?”
You fight down the twitch threatening your left eye as your gaze slingshots to Zoro and back to Luffy again.
“Uhm — someone… assigned it to me. And it’s Baroque Works.”
“Right! Yeah — that one!” Luffy smiles, seemingly unbothered by the implications of you being a member of a known criminal organization.
“Breakfast! C’mon — before it goes cold!” a voice calls down the hallway and a moment later, a blond-haired man in an all black suit peeks his head around the doorframe.
“Ah, our special guest is awake — so what about it, Ms. Double-Nines? Any requests for breakfast? I could do a few eggs, sunny side up, with a side of toast and some freshly made tangerine-butter. Or, we’ve still got some batter left over from the blueberry pancakes yesterday. Take your pick.”
You blink at the man with one shoulder propped against the doorframe, the other supporting a half-done cigarette, bringing it to his mouth for a casual puff.
Zoro lets out an annoyed grunt, “What blueberry pancakes? You gave me left-over potato mush for breakfast yesterday.”
The blonde turns to Zoro with a vindictive smirk, “You really think I’d waste the good stuff on someone with the palette of a forest slug?”
“Oh! I want the eggs! And can you make the sausages you made the other day, Sanji? Those were the best!” Luffy bounces out of the room with a bright smile as Sanji chuckles, shaking his head.
“Yeah, but you’ll have to wait a bit for those!” he calls down the hallway after Luffy’s rapidly retreating form.
You glance from Zoro to Sanji and back again, your stomach a mess of knots, your heart skidding strangely inside your chest.
Sanji slates you a helpless look and a lopsided smile, “C’mon then — can’t miss breakfast. Most important meal of the day!”
Introductions, as they are, take the better part of the morning. Though by noon, you’re still unsure if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where you’d miraculously escaped the dark tangles of your past, and into some idyllic, sun-lit story full of great friends and endless adventures.
“Mm, that’s a pretty name, but I still think Ms. Ninety-Nine is cooler,” Luffy says, when you finally tell them your name — the one that had been yours for your whole life before you’d been forced to become someone — no, something else.
“It’s Ms. Double — nevermind,” you sigh, shaking your head, feeling an incredulous laugh bubble out of your chest.
“So… you trying to leave Baroque Works?” Sanji asks, casually adjusting his fishing lines as Nami pours over a hand-drawn map of the East Blue, a pair of tiny glasses perched on her nose. Of all the members of the Strawhat Crew, she’d been the least overtly welcoming, staying quiet and keeping her distance.
And, judging by hardness that lies just on the other edge of her smile, you can’t blame her. She knows a liar when she sees one; you do too.
“Something like that,” you say, glancing away.
Zoro lounges against the main mast, his eyes closed.
“So! You must be a really good fighter!” Luffy says, tugging on his own fishing lines till Sanji nudges him away.
“I —” your voice catches and you look away, “I’m alright.”
“I heard that only the best fighters in Baroque Works get codenames with numbers,” Nami says without looking up, her tone casual. Her hand is steady as she traces a long line through the center of the map.
“It’s… a bit more complicated than that,” you say, your fingers twisting in your lap.
“Complicated how?” Nami asks, finally looking up, her gaze bright and hard and unrelenting.
You lick your lips, shrugging, “It’s just… you don’t have to be a great fighter to be… useful.”
And something about the way you say that makes everyone stiffen. By the main mast, Zoro shifts, peering open an eye to stare at you. But before he can say anything, Luffy jumps up, pulling hard at his fishing rod.
“Look! I think I caught something!”
That night, when they drop anchor, the ocean is still, and the summer air is almost too sweet. Luffy proposes a toast, to a new friend, he says, and Sanji has never turned down a toast to a pretty girl. Even Nami, who had been cautious all day, lured by the sweet tangerine wine and the tantalizing summer air, flashes you a small grin as she raises her glass.
You manage to choke down the wine passed the scream curdling at the back of your throat.
And then later, when the Millions come calling, no one notices the way you slip away, pulling all the fire towards you until you’re too far to be saved.
“Stay back!” you call, even as one of the Millions hauls you onto the deck of a smaller ship by the hair.
“Gum-Gum —“
“Wait,” Zoro places a hand on Luffy’s arm.
“Huh?”
Zoro frowns, pointing to a spot of white on the railings. Luffy stares down at it for a second before Sanji peers over his shoulder, reaching out to dab at the smear of white powder.
“It’s… rice flour.”
In the kitchen, they find a tray with a series of tiny wagashi mochi’s, simply made, but each perfectly shaped and dusted with a fine powder of sweet rice flour.
There’s a hastily scribbled note that just says — Thank you. I’m sorry.
— — —
It takes them the better part of a two weeks to track you down.
And when they do, it’s to an island of sand and trees and not much else.
“What… is this place?” Nami asks as they all hop onto the bleak little stretch of beach.
“It’s a holding ground,” a voice answers, rich and feminine. They all look up to see a tall figure, arms crossed, a cowboy hat perched atop her head. Her hair looks like it’s been cut with a slide-rule. She makes no move to attack, but Zoro still finds his thumb ticking at the hilt of his sword.
Beside him, Sanji looks conflicted at the thought of fighting such a beautiful woman.
“Miss All Sunday,” Nami says, her bo staff clicking clicking into place as she takes half a step forward.
The woman allows herself a grin, dipping the brim of her hat.
“Ara… if it isn’t the Cat Burglar.”
Nami scoffs, “Let’s cut the song and dance — we’re looking for a friend of ours. You might know her — goes by Miss Double-Nines, I think.”
“Friend?” Miss All Sunday lets the word simmer in the air between them, blithely checking her nails before pinning them all with a hard look, “we at Baroque Works aren’t known for making friends outside the organization.”
“Yeah well, maybe our friend’s just different!” offers Luffy, grinning widely, his chest puffed out.
Miss All Sunday regards them for a moment more before shrugging and slipping into the shadows of the giant tree she’d been leaning against. Zoro and Nami share a look before stepping forward to follow her, Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp half a step behind them.
The forest is a twist of ancient trees, their canopy high and thick enough to completely blot out the sun. Beneath the preternatural dark, the woods are spine-chillingly quiet. There’s no rustle of leaves, no hush of wings or skitter of claws. Nothing moves, save for their slinking guide and their own, weapon-laden bodies.
No one dares to speak; even Luffy keeps quiet, his mouth set in a straight line, his eyes tracking the lithe form of Miss All Sunday as she leads them through the undulating terrain.
“Ah… you’re in luck,” Miss All Sunday says, her voice a silken whisper as she stops in front of a massive tree, it’s roots as thick as the Merry’s main mast, it’s trunk so wide it’s impossible to see around. Miss All Sunday adjusts her hat, sweeping her hand through the air much as a hostess would when presenting a prize, “she’s awake.”
It’s you, or at least the shape of you, caught in the massive tangle of tree roots, your arms held to your sides, your body half-swallowed by the trunk of the tree itself. Your lashes flutter open at the sound of Miss All Sunday’s voice, and when your gaze finally lands on them, it goes wide —
“W-what —”
“We’ve come to rescue you!” Luffy says, grinning even as he revs up his arm.
The cigarette dangling from Sanji’s lips falls he leans back to inspect the grotesque sight before him.
It’s Nami who catches Zoro with an arm around the waist, tugging him back to relative difficulty. It’s only then that Zoro realizes how hard he’s breathing, how there’s red seeping like spilt blood into the edges of his vision.
“I — I told you not to follow me!” you say, your voice cracking over the words, your skin nearly translucent as it strains over your ribs.
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Yeah well — we never said we’d listen.”
You drop your head, your throat bobbing around a mirthless laugh.
Everyone jumps at the sound of clapping, loud and slow and measured. A moment later, a man in a fur-lined coat with a thick set of stitches across his face steps out from behind the massive tree, a cigar caught between his teeth, a steely glint to his eyes.
“Well done, well done — if it isn’t the infamous Strawhat Pirates,” the man says, crossing his arms and taking a long puff of the cigar.
Luffy takes a step forward, “We are just here for our friend!”
“Your friend?” the man says, an eerie smile splitting his lips as he takes the cigar between two fingers and glances towards you, “you didn’t tell me you’d made new friends, Miss Double Nines?”
You wince at his words, twisting your head as he blows a stream of smoke at your face.
Zoro jerks forward, only to be caught again — this time by Sanji and Nami both.
“Ah, but this is wonderful! We should give your new friends a proper welcome, no?” the man opens his palms, laughing heartily before the forest around them shudders. And then, everything beneath them turns to sand.
It is not a long fight, and Zoro only remembers it in faint flashes — the base rumble of the earth shifting beneath them, the sky-splitting crack of tree trunks as the forest around them roils and breaks. Through it all, he remembers the sound of your voice, calling out something before it’s muffled by a pair of too-large hands —
And it isn’t till he finds himself standing on the thin stretch of beach with the rest of his crew that his mind returns to him, jarred and unsettled, but lucid.
The man with stitches across his face grins, your body caught beneath his arm like a rag doll. He laughs as he tosses you down onto the sand at this feet.
Both Zoro and Sanji charge forward, only to stop in their steps as the man cocks a gun and levels it at the back of your head. He grins, tilting his head.
“Go on,” he says, “she’s right there, isn’t she?”
Sanji crouches down, his eyes narrowed. Zoro’s jaw clenches as he adjusts his hold on his swords.
You shake your head, your hair a dark spill around your shoulders, peppered with sand as you push yourself up onto hands and knees, your gaze imploring as you look up at them.
“Don’t.”
Zoro feels something inside him snap at the broken register of your voice.
He charges forward just as the man reaches down to grab a fistful of your hair and tug you backwards, pressing the muzzle of the pistol to the side of your head.
“Let her go, and I might let you live,” he snarls between gritted teeth.
The man grins, savage and unbothered, shaking you like a marionette on tender strings. You let out a soft groan as he digs the gun further into your temple.
“Ah… I’m not sure I like being threatened on my own turf,” the man says, his voice soft as he trails the gun along your face down to your throat before pressing it the soft spot just beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut.
“Wait —!” Zoro’s voice cracks like a gunshot over the word, desperation wriggling it’s way up his throat till it’s spilling out of his mouth.
The man’s eyes go dark at the sound, his mouth splits wide on a savage grin as he trails the gun back up to your temple, caressing the trigger with almost lethargic ease, clicks down the safety — and shoots.
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