#can you tell the eyebrows are stickers?

[loudestcloud]

Sneaky sneak peak:

I did not paint Sushi, that is just normal default Goose

Update posted in reblog

[choerrypuffs]

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

[pucksandpower]

Pollinated

Day 11 → Sex Pollen 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content and dubious consent

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’ve got a stack waiting for you.” Alan leans on the edge of your desk, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s holding a bundle of envelopes, some thick with scribbled messages, some thin and printed with clean, crisp fonts.

Your PR officer’s eyebrows raise in mock exasperation as he shakes them at you. “How do you even have time to race with all these fans wanting a piece of you?”

You grin, setting down your coffee and wiping your hands on your pants. “That’s the problem of being so popular, Alan. It’s a curse, really.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a real burden. Everyone loving you.”

“Someone’s gotta do it.”

He drops the stack in front of you with a soft thud. “Take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.” His tone is teasing, but you catch the flicker of something more serious underneath, like he’s reminding you there’s more work to be done after this.

You roll your eyes as he walks off. You love this part of your day — the letters, the drawings, the fan art from kids who see something in you that makes them believe they can be here too. They’re always so personal, full of energy, like they’re rooting for you from their living rooms or school desks.

You flick through the pile, reading the familiar opening lines. Dear Y/N, you’re such an inspiration or I love watching you race! Your heart lifts as you come across a brightly colored drawing from a girl named Chloe, of you standing on a podium, arms raised in victory. It makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt a little. You can practically hear the little girl’s voice, excitedly telling her parents, “That’s gonna be me one day.”

“This is what it’s about,” you mutter under your breath, running your fingers over the crayon marks.

More letters. More words of encouragement. A scribbled note from a group of university students who drove twelve hours just to see you race last season. A letter from an older woman who says she’s been watching F1 since her husband introduced her to it in the ‘70s and how proud she is to see a woman making waves. You pause at that one, your chest swelling. You’ll have to write her back.

You reach for the next envelope, a bit plainer than the others. No stickers, no hand-drawn doodles in the margins. It’s simple, just your name written on the front in neat black ink. Your gut tugs slightly, but you brush it off. Not every fan is an artist.

You open it, pulling out a card with a printed picture of a car on the front. Your car. You smile, flipping it open to read the message inside.

But your smile fades as you start to read.

You don’t belong here.

The words are bold, black, and stark against the white paper. They stand out like a punch to the gut, each line colder and more hateful than the last. The handwriting is meticulous, like whoever wrote it wanted to be sure you’d understand every word.

Women like you are ruining the sport.

Your throat tightens. Your fingers grip the edges of the card a little harder than before, the edges bending under the pressure.

Go back to doing what you’re good at: nothing.

You try to swallow, but it feels like there’s a knot lodged in your throat. It’s not the first time you’ve seen something like this. Hell, it’s not even the worst thing anyone’s said. But right now, it’s too sharp, too specific, too venomous.

You reach up to close the card, your hand trembling slightly. But before you can fully shut it, something catches your eye — a tiny puff of fine yellow powder shoots from the fold, drifting into the air in front of you.

“What the-” You blink, confused for a split second.

Then, it hits.

A burning sensation spreads through your throat and nose. Your skin tingles, a wave of heat rushing over your face. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but it feels like you’re inhaling fire. Panic spikes as your vision blurs.

“Alan!” The name barely makes it past your lips before you feel your legs give way beneath you.

“Alan!” You try again, but it comes out weaker this time. Your limbs feel heavy, your chest tight, and the room starts to spin in slow, nauseating circles.

Footsteps pound across the floor. Alan’s voice sounds far away, muffled, like he’s underwater. You catch a glimpse of him sprinting toward you, his face pale, eyes wide. “Y/N?”

Your body jerks uncontrollably, a violent shudder running through you. The room twists, everything turning hazy as you hit the floor hard, your fingers twitching against the cool tile.

“What the hell — Y/N!” Alan’s panic is sharp now, cutting through the fog. You can barely see him through the haze clouding your vision, but you feel him grab your shoulders, shaking you gently.

“Stay with me. Just stay with me, okay?” His voice cracks, fear bleeding through the edges.

Your entire body seizes again, every muscle clamping down painfully. A sharp cry escapes your throat as the convulsions take over, uncontrollable now.

“Help! Somebody, help!” Alan’s voice is frantic, desperate, echoing through the room as the world starts to fade. His hands are on your face now, trying to keep you conscious. You feel his fingers trembling against your skin, hear the panic rising in his voice as he keeps shouting for help.

But you’re slipping, sinking deeper into the darkness as the convulsions wrack your body. You can’t speak. You can’t move.

Alan’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

***

The world returns slowly, like surfacing from a deep dive. There’s a ringing in your ears, muffled voices blending into the constant hum of machinery. Your body feels like it’s on fire — each nerve sizzling under your skin, radiating heat. You try to move, but it’s as if you’re bound by weights. The sheets beneath you cling to your body, too warm, too tight, too much.

Someone’s talking nearby, but it’s distant, warped. You can’t make out the words yet. Everything feels heavy — your eyelids, your chest, even your breathing. Your mouth is dry, your tongue like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.

Slowly, the fog begins to clear, and you catch fragments of conversation.

“… highly illegal substance …” A voice, crisp and professional, filters through. The doctor. “… extreme toxicity … very few cases on record …”

You try to focus, but the burning sensation inside you only intensifies. It’s everywhere — your limbs, your core, your mind. Like you’re being torn apart from the inside out.

You manage a groan, the sound barely escaping your lips.

“She’s waking up,” someone says, closer now. Alan? It sounds like him, but there’s a hitch in his usually confident voice. Panic.

Your eyelids flutter open, and the room comes into blurry focus. Harsh fluorescent lights. Sterile white walls. The sterile smell of antiseptic clogs your senses, a sharp contrast to the heat still coursing through you. You blink slowly, your vision sharpening enough to see Alan standing by your bedside, pale and jittery, his hand running through his hair in nervous strokes.

Across from him is the doctor, his white coat stiff and immaculate. He’s holding a clipboard, and his face is a mask of concern. When he speaks, it feels like each word takes a lifetime to process.

“… the substance she was exposed to … it’s not just any powder,” the doctor is saying, his voice measured but grim. “It’s a synthetic pollen derivative, known as Lust Dust on the black market.”

Lust Dust. The words sink into you, but you don’t recognize them. Your throat feels too tight to ask for clarification. Alan, however, doesn’t hesitate.

“What does that mean? What the hell is that?” Alan’s voice is raw, frayed at the edges.

The doctor sighs, flipping through the notes on his clipboard before answering. “It’s an extremely illegal bio-weapon, developed underground. It was used in several isolated attacks a few years ago, mostly in war zones. The symptoms … well, they’re brutal.”

You don’t like the sound of this. Brutal. Illegal. Bio-weapon. The words swirl around in your head, each one setting off alarm bells, but you can barely move enough to react. You just lie there, heat pulsing through you, your body screaming in agony.

“The pollen attacks the body’s nervous system,” the doctor continues, his tone clinical. “It acts as a stimulant, targeting primal instincts, heightening … certain responses. The most dangerous part is that, if untreated, the body will burn out within hours.”

“Burn out?” Alan echoes, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What does that mean? You mean … she’ll die?”

“Yes,” the doctor replies, his tone darkening. “In most cases, without intervention, the victim’s body will shut down. It’s a highly sexualized toxin. The only way to counteract the effects is through physical release.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. The words hover in the air, sinking into the room with a weight you can almost feel. Your heart races, your mind struggling to comprehend what’s being said. Physical release? The burning sensation in your body intensifies, like it’s reacting to the very idea of what the doctor’s suggesting.

Alan’s face pales further, his hand gripping the back of his neck in horror. “Wait, are you — are you saying she has to-”

“Sex,” the doctor says bluntly, not sugar-coating anything. “Yes. If she doesn’t have sex soon, she will die. The sooner, the better, to mitigate the damage the pollen’s already caused.”

A cold sweat breaks out across your skin, despite the unbearable heat raging inside you. The fire in your veins is consuming everything, twisting the doctor’s words into cruel irony. This can’t be happening. Not this.

“I … I …“ Alan stammers, clearly at a loss, his eyes flicking to you, desperate and terrified. “There’s got to be another way. Medicine? A procedure? Something?”

The doctor shakes his head. “There’s no antidote. The only option is the one I’ve given you.”

You want to scream. You want to cry. But you can’t do anything except lie there, burning from the inside out, unable to stop the panic surging through you as the realization sinks in.

Alan takes a shaky breath. “What … what do we do now?”

The doctor straightens, his voice calm but commanding. “The most important thing is finding someone who’s willing to … assist.”

Alan’s eyes widen in horror, but before he can say anything, the door bursts open and several members of your team file into the room — engineers, mechanics, staff. Their faces are tight with concern, and they crowd into the small space, murmuring amongst themselves.

“What happened?” Someone asks, their voice tense.

Alan quickly explains, his voice shaking as he goes over the details. The pollen. The bio-weapon. The need for “intervention.” Every word makes your heart pound harder, and you can feel the collective shock ripple through the room as the reality of the situation sets in.

“She needs someone,” Alan says, his voice thick with emotion. “She needs someone to …”

He can’t even finish the sentence.

The room falls into stunned silence. You can hear the soft hum of the machines around you, the ragged breathing of the people in the room. It feels like time has stopped, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone.

Then, the whispers start.

“I’ll do it,” someone mutters.

“No, I will,” another voice pipes up. You recognize it as one of the engineers, his voice shaky but sincere.

“I mean, she’s our driver, right? We have to help.”

More voices chime in, each one offering, each one willing. The panic in the room turns to a frantic eagerness, as though everyone suddenly realizes what’s at stake. You can barely comprehend it — the idea that your team, your colleagues, are discussing this as though it’s just another task, something to be done to save your life.

Your mind is spinning, your body trembling with the heat still coursing through you. You want to shout at them, tell them to stop, that this isn’t how things should be. But you can’t move, can’t speak. All you can do is listen as the conversation grows more chaotic, more desperate.

Then, the door opens again, and a new voice cuts through the noise.

“Everyone out.”

It’s Max.

The room falls silent instantly, every head turning toward him. He stands in the doorway, his face hard and set, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity you’ve never seen before. He looks around the room, his gaze sharp, taking in the faces of your teammates, the panic, the confusion.

“I said out,” Max repeats, his voice calm but firm.

No one moves at first, too shocked to respond. But then one by one, they start to file out, murmuring to each other in hushed tones as they leave the room. You hear Alan hesitate for a moment, but even he doesn’t argue. The door shuts softly behind them, leaving you alone with Max.

You’re too weak to turn your head, but you can hear him walk closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He doesn’t speak right away, and the silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the soft beeping of the machines monitoring your condition.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Max’s voice fills the room. “It’s going to be me.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“No one else is touching you,” he says, his tone low, steady. “I’m your teammate. I’m the one who’s going to help you. Not them.”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear the resolve in his voice, the determination. He’s not offering. He’s deciding. There’s no question, no hesitation. It’s going to be him, and no one else.

And as the burning inside you flares again, you realize that part of you is grateful.

***

The air between you and Max is thick with tension, the kind that crackles in the silence, heavy with unspoken words. You lie there, your body still ablaze, the fire under your skin pulsing in waves, but something about his presence — steady, resolute — grounds you, if only just. You can’t move, can barely speak, but your mind races, half-paralyzed with the agony of the pollen and half with the strange anticipation of what’s to come.

Max stands beside the bed, his face framed by the fluorescent lights above, casting shadows that sharpen his features. He doesn’t look afraid, though you can tell there’s something behind his eyes — something that trembles just beneath the surface. His gaze locks onto yours, and it feels like he’s looking past the pain, past the situation, to something deeper.

“This isn’t how I imagined …“ His voice is soft, barely more than a whisper, as though the words aren’t meant to be heard by anyone but you. He reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours, tentative at first, like he’s asking permission for what’s about to happen.

You want to respond, to say something, but your throat is too tight, too raw, the burning heat still tearing through you. You manage the faintest of nods, your hand twitching against his, and that’s all he needs.

Max leans over, his face close to yours now, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand trails gently down your arm, his touch soft, careful. “I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, his voice low, soothing. “We’ll get through this.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in that same quiet, tender voice, he adds, “Schatje … you’re so strong.”

The endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, and despite everything — despite the fire tearing you apart from the inside out — it brings a strange, aching warmth to your chest. Max has never called you that before. The intimacy of it catches you off guard, though you don’t have the strength to dwell on it for long.

His hands move lower now, brushing across your skin with reverence, as though you might break under his touch. You shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“You don’t deserve this,” Max whispers, his forehead nearly touching yours. His voice cracks ever so slightly, betraying the calm façade he’s trying to maintain. “I’ve … I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he admits softly, his words a confession, raw and vulnerable. “But not like this. Never like this.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s handling you with such care, as though he’s afraid of hurting you. And somehow, through the pain, you manage to relax just enough to let him in. Just enough to let him take some of the weight from you.

He presses his lips to your temple, a soft, lingering kiss, and you can feel the tremble in his breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the burning inside you dims, replaced by something else. Something warm, and tender, and utterly consuming. Max moves with purpose now, his touch becoming more sure, more confident, but never losing that careful tenderness. He’s cooing to you, whispering soft praises in Dutch, his voice like a balm against the fire raging inside you.

“I’ve always wanted you,” Max admits again, his words spilling out like he can’t hold them back any longer. “For so long. I just … I didn’t know how to tell you.”

His hands continue their journey, and despite the circumstances, despite the fire still licking at your insides, your body responds. Every touch feels magnified, every brush of his skin against yours sending a jolt of something deeper through you, something primal and desperate and… needed.

“You’re so strong,” he says again, his voice reverent, almost in awe. “So perfect. I don’t know how you do it.”

Your body trembles beneath him, not just from the fire that’s still coursing through you, but from the way he’s touching you, the way his words wrap around you like a soft embrace. It’s intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, the vulnerability of the moment stripping away any pretense, any barriers you might have once had.

“I’m here, liefje,” Max whispers, his lips brushing against your ear now. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You don’t know how he manages it, how he makes something so painful feel like this, but he does. His hands are everywhere, soothing the burn, coaxing your body to relax, to give in to what you need. And with every touch, every whispered endearment, the fire inside you dims, just a little, just enough to let you breathe.

“I wish it was different,” Max murmurs, his voice thick with emotion now. “I wish this was … just us. Not because of this. Not because of …“ His words trail off, but you understand. You understand perfectly.

He presses his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged, his body tense with the effort of keeping himself composed. “But I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says, his voice fierce with determination. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Your body reacts to him instinctively now, every nerve ending lighting up in response to his touch, the fire inside you blazing hotter but in a way that feels … different. Less painful. More like an ache, a deep, desperate need that only he can fill.

“Max …“ you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse, barely audible. It’s the first word you’ve spoken since waking up, and it feels like a release, like a crack in the wall you’ve built around yourself. He hears it, though, and his gaze softens, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “I’ve always got you.”

His movements quicken, and you can feel yourself spiraling, the fire inside you building to a crescendo, but this time it’s not just pain. It’s something more, something overwhelming and all-consuming. You can feel him with you, guiding you, coaxing you toward the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers again, his voice breathless now, his own control slipping. “I’ve wanted you for so long …“

His words send you tumbling over the edge, your body convulsing in a wave of pleasure so intense it nearly takes your breath away. The fire beneath your skin peaks, then suddenly, blessedly, begins to recede. It’s like the flames are being extinguished, one by one, leaving only warmth in their wake.

And Max is there, holding you through it, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His breathing is ragged, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself together, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t move.

As the last of the fire dies down, as your body finally begins to relax, you hear him whisper, so softly you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

The words slip out before he can stop them, unguarded and raw, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The room, the pain, the circumstances that brought you here — it all disappears, leaving only the two of you, tangled together, vulnerable and exposed.

You’re too weak to respond, too exhausted from everything that’s just happened, but Max doesn’t seem to mind. He holds you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he can reach.

“I love you,” he whispers again, like he’s afraid you didn’t hear him the first time. “I’ve always loved you.”

His confession hangs in the air, delicate and fragile, but it feels right. Like it’s been waiting to be said all along.

As the fire beneath your skin finally dies out completely, as your body settles into a state of calm for the first time in hours, you let yourself fall into the safety of his arms, his warmth the only thing keeping the remnants of the fire at bay.

Max doesn’t let go. Not for a long time. And you don’t want him to.

***

Max holds you close, his body pressed against yours, his breath still coming in shallow bursts as the two of you lie in a tangled heap on the bed. The burning fire that had been searing through your body has finally been extinguished, leaving only a lingering warmth that feels manageable now.

But even though the pain is gone, even though your body has found relief, there’s still something… unfinished. A strange, restless feeling that hums beneath your skin, an ache that begs for more.

Max is quiet beside you, his hand brushing gently through your hair as he watches your face, his expression soft but intent, like he’s still worried, still waiting for some sign that you’re okay. But you can see it in his eyes — he knows. He knows it’s not over yet.

You shift beneath him, the subtle movement sending a ripple of sensation through you, and your breath hitches involuntarily. The fire is gone, but that need, that craving — it’s still there, simmering just below the surface. It’s not the urgent, desperate heat of the pollen, but it’s undeniable.

Max’s gaze sharpens, reading the subtle cues in your body. His hand stills in your hair, and you feel him shift beside you, his body tensing slightly as he watches you, waiting for you to say something, to ask for what you need.

You don’t have to.

“Oh liefje,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “You still need more, don’t you?”

Your throat tightens, and you nod, unable to form the words. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes — understanding, maybe, or something deeper. He doesn’t ask if you’re sure. He already knows.

Max’s hand trails down your body, his touch feather-light, and it sends a shiver through you, your body responding to him instantly. He presses a kiss to your temple, then to your jaw, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “I’m here,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Whatever you need.”

His lips travel lower, grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, and you arch into him, your body aching for more. He moves slowly, deliberately, savoring each touch, each kiss, as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory.

You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips when he moves lower still, his mouth brushing against your collarbone. He’s taking his time, drawing this out, making sure every second is filled with pleasure, with tenderness. There’s no urgency now, no frantic need to cure the fire. This is something else — something deliberate, something intimate.

Max’s hands slide down your sides, his thumbs brushing lightly over your ribs as he lowers himself down the bed. His mouth follows the path his hands have carved, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and teasing, as he moves lower, kissing across your stomach with slow, deliberate care.

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, each touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your fingers tangle in the sheets, gripping them tightly as you fight to keep your composure, but Max makes it impossible. His lips are everywhere, soft and warm and completely unrelenting.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I don’t think you even realize …”

His words send a thrill through you, and your breath catches as his hands slide lower, his fingers brushing the curve of your hips. He presses a kiss to your navel, and you feel the heat pooling deep inside you, the need building again, stronger this time, more insistent.

“Max …” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you. He always hears you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers back, his voice soft, reassuring. “Just relax.”

You try, but it’s impossible with the way he’s touching you, the way he’s kissing you, like every part of you deserves his undivided attention. He’s worshiping you with every movement, and it’s almost too much to bear.

Max’s hands slide up your thighs, and your breath stutters as he spreads your legs wider, his eyes dark with want as he looks up at you. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he presses a kiss just below the dip of your waist, teasing you, making you wait.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. “Do you know that?”

You can’t respond, can’t do anything but arch into him, desperate for more. He knows exactly what you need, and he’s giving it to you slowly, carefully, savoring every moment.

Max’s hands grasp your thighs, and he pulls them apart slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s something in his gaze — something raw, something vulnerable. He’s giving himself to you completely, just as much as you’re giving yourself to him.

His lips trail lower, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there, and your entire body shudders in response. Every nerve is on fire again, but this time it’s not the cruel burn of the pollen.

This is different. This is Max.

He pauses for a moment, his lips hovering just above where you need him most, and he looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath.

You can’t form the words. All you can do is nod, your body trembling beneath him.

Max smiles, a small, almost shy smile, and then he lowers his head, his mouth finally, blessedly, on you. The sensation is immediate, intense, and you cry out, your fingers digging into the sheets as he works you with a precision that only he seems to know. His tongue moves slowly at first, teasing you, drawing out your pleasure, but it doesn’t take long for him to find the rhythm that makes your entire body sing.

He’s relentless, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, driving you higher and higher until you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel. The pleasure builds and builds, coiling tighter and tighter inside you until you’re sure you’re going to break.

“Max!” You gasp, your body arching off the bed. “Please …”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. If anything, he goes faster, his tongue working you with an intensity that leaves you trembling. You’re so close, so impossibly close, and he knows it.

“That’s it,” he whispers against you, his voice thick with need. “Let go, schatje. I’ve got you.”

And then, with one last flick of his tongue, you’re gone, tumbling over the edge into a wave of pleasure so intense it almost hurts. Your entire body convulses, your vision going white as you fall apart beneath him, your fingers gripping the sheets so tightly they burn.

Max doesn’t let up, his mouth still on you, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re nothing but a trembling, panting mess. When he finally pulls away, you’re left gasping for breath, your body slick with sweat, your heart racing in your chest.

He crawls back up the bed, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he goes, his hands soothing over your trembling limbs. When he finally reaches your face, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair back from your face.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft, reassuring. “You’re okay.”

You can barely nod, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release. Max pulls you into his arms, holding you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back as you come down from the high. His breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours.

For a moment, everything is still. Quiet. Perfect.

And then, just as your breathing begins to slow, the door creaks open.

The doctor walks in, clipboard in hand, his expression unreadable as he takes in the sight of you and Max — sweaty, tangled together, your bodies still humming with the afterglow. He doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at his clipboard, then back at you.

“Well,” he says after a moment, his tone entirely too clinical for the situation. “It appears the cure has been administered.”

Max stiffens beside you, but the doctor doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He simply jots down a few notes on his clipboard, his pen scratching loudly in the silence.

“Residual effects of heightened libido may persist,” the doctor adds, almost as an afterthought. He glances up from his notes, his gaze flicking between you and Max, then nods, satisfied. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”

And with that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you and Max in stunned silence.

Max lets out a breath, a low, incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “Did he seriously just …”

You nod, still too dazed to form a coherent response.

Max shakes his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “Well, I guess we’re not done yet.”

And with the way your body still hums with need, you know he’s right.

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (2) II a.putellas x sister!reader

part one

so i kinda...angst'd a whole lot harder than planned? but the song listened to when breaking my own heart writing this was all the pretty girls by kaleo, i recommend a listen while you read! filling the void (2) II a.putellas x sister!reader

you tapped your foot somewhat anxiously as you sent a smile to the waitress hovering nearby, the older woman clearly wanting to take your order as she passed by for the fifth time since you'd sat down.

"buenos días pequeña." your attention shifted as your breakfast date finally arrived, your anxiety that she might not come melting away as you stood to greet her, the older girl pulling you into a hug as you kissed her cheek.

"thank you for coming." you smiled a little nervously at olga as the two of you sat down, the waitress appearing again within seconds as you both ordered a coffee and she left you be with a food menu.

"thank you for inviting me." olga smiled, hanging her bag on her chair. "not that i do not want to have breakfast with you nena, but can i ask why i am here? you did not sound like yourself on the phone this morning." olga started gently as you nodded.

through the few years she'd been with alexia olga had of course been welcomed into the family with open arms, and albeit the growing gap between you and your sisters you still liked her a lot and visa versa.

olga had been the most nervous to meet you when she first started seeing alexia, knowing both from her girlfriend and through the grapevine that you had been incredibly close with her last partner jenni before she and alexia broke up, olga fearing you might resent her for not being jenni.

but right away you saw how happy olga made alexia and how she often brought out a different side to your eldest sister, something goofier, more juvenile and softer like when alexia was younger and there was far less responsibility on her shoulders weighing her down.

"sí, i wanted to apologise to you." you got right to the point, your sisters girlfriend quirking an eyebrow curiously but nodding for you to continue.

"i had no idea the event my friends invited me to was yours i promise, if i had known before i would not have agreed to go. but they bought my ticket for me and i only realized when we arrived that it was manuelas. then i tried to tell them why i couldn't go in but they insisted and i wanted a night out." you started, twisting the rings on your fingers nervously.

"but i should have thought about it more before i agreed to go inside. if someone found out i was underage and you were serving me alcohol you could have been in a lot of trouble and i did not think about anyone but myself." you sighed deeply, a noise which held far too much responsibility for someone your age making olga frown a little out of concern.

"so i am very sorry." you wrapped it up as your coffees arrived, thanking the waitress with a smile as you took a cautious sip and awaited olga to speak.

"thank you for apologizing pequeña." olga started softly once she'd had a mouthful of her own coffee, nails tapping absentmindedly against the burnt orange ceramic mug cupped in her hands.

"but i am not mad, and i was not mad at you the other night. i was just worried for you and for your safety which is why i tried to find you in the club before you ran away. but i can see now that i did not need to be because you are much more mature than any seventeen year old i've ever met, myself included." olga chuckled as she took another sip of coffee, a small smile curling onto your lips.

"but next time you want to go out with your friends to one of my events you come to me about it first, sí?" olga's tone became a little more serious as you quickly nodded in agreement.

"buena. or else i will have to stick pictures of your face behind the bar with a do not serve sticker across your forehead!" the older girl grinned teasingly which you returned, tension sucked away now as you visibly relaxed.

"so, estamos bien?" you checked in as you both grabbed the menu's to look at ordering some food. "sí pequeña, more than okay. but breakfast is on you since this is an apology!" olga winked making you laugh and agree with a nod, the two of you falling quickly into a different conversation.

~

alexia looked up from her phone as the front door opened, smiling at her girlfriend who stepped through and hung her keys on the hook, the spanish captain standing quickly to greet her.

"hola mi amor." olga laughed against alexia's lips which were quickly pressed to hers in a series of soft kisses, breaking apart and heading for the kitchen as alexia took her seat back at the counter.

"how was your meeting?" alexia questioned, ready to leave for training in an hour or so. "was not a meeting." olga shook her head, opening the fridge intending to make a list of what was needed so she could go shopping while alexia was training.

"i met your sister for breakfast, she called and asked me while you were in the shower this morning." olga explained, nails tapping away at her phone screen noting down what needed to be bought.

"so alba can see you but not reply to me? i have called her three times this morning!" alexia groaned in annoyance with a roll of her eyes, pulling out her phone intending to give her younger sister a piece of her mind.

"no amor, not alba." olga's hand gently pushed the phone down as alexia frowned. "oh. you saw fresa?" alexia's eyebrows shot up in surprise as olga hummed with a nod of confirmation.

"she called to ask you out to breakfast." alexia echoed as again olga nodded. "sí, she wanted to apologise for the other night." olga started gently, knowing the last few days had been a large wake up call both for alexia and alba who had been in near constant contact trying to work out how to fix things.

"really?" alexia asked in disbelief. "really. ale sometimes i forget she is only seventeen, she has a very good head on her shoulders. she even paid for breakfast too." olga smiled as alexia sat there stunned, drumming her fingers on the counter clearly lost for words.

"you called to invite her over for dinner this week?" olga asked softly capturing her attention again, rounding the corner and slotting herself in between the taller girls legs.

"i tried but she will not answer alba or i, both our texts or calls she just blanks them." alexia sighed as olgas arms draped over her shoulders, nails scratching lightly at the base of her neck relaxing her a little as alexia's own hands settled on her girlfriends hips.

"can you blame her cariño? when is the last time you called her just to talk to her?" olga spoke carefully, alexia looking as though she might argue before she deflated. "i cannot remember." the blonde muttered, shame obvious in her features as she looked away.

"how did i miss this? how did i mess this up so badly? she hates me olga and i cannot even fault her for it!" alexia laughed bitterly, the brunette wincing in sympathy.

"she does not hate you mi vida, venga." olga grasped her lovers hand, pulling her off the stool and leading her over to the sofa, sitting down and gently tugging the taller girl to lean into her side, hugging her tightly.

"she should after what i said the other night." alexia admitted after a few moments of silence had passed, pulling away slightly as olga gave her a curious look and alexia sighed, not having been completely honest with her about everything.

"i was so angry with her and the fact she did not seem care about what could have happened. but i was just so scared, what if someone spiked her drink? took advantage of her? hurt her? anything could have happened that night and i have been so absent i would not have even known. something could have already happened and i would not know!" alexia exhaled shakily, olga tracing a thumb over her knuckles.

"but what did you say to her amor." olga pushed gently, alexia avoiding her eyes as she paused for a moment. "i told her she was a careless, stupid, selfish little accident." alexia admitted quietly, olgas hands immediately withdrawing from hers as she recoiled in shock.

"alexia." the brunette managed out in disbelief. "i know. i know, it was horrible and cruel and i knew it would hurt her. i was so angry and scared i lashed out at her." alexia recounted, the memory burned into her mind like a branding, the blonde had been replaying it over and over for the last few days.

"you have not spoken to her since? apologized?" olga frowned as alexia shook her head. "no, alba and i have both tried but she just does not answer." alexia dragged her hands down her face, cheeks burning with shame that she once had the nerve to call herself your protector.

"she used to be this tiny perfect little baby, i remember the day she was born alba and i were so excited. when mami told us she and papi would be having another baby we were always happy, always supportive. mami was so worried we would resent her because there would be such an age gap, making us promise we would never." alexia started, voice hoarse and raspy as she avoided the burning gaze of her lover sat beside her.

"but from the very moment i laid eyes on her i promised i would never let anything hurt her, i would spend my life looking after her and making sure she knew she was so loved. she was so small when i first held her, our abuela knitted her this little blue blanket and beanie and my pinky didn't even fit in her tiny hand. she had rosy cheeks and bright eyes and she was perfect, our little bundle of joy." alexia recounted fondly, olga shuffling a little closer and placing a hand on her knee.

"our papi used to joke that she was born with a personal security team. the first few months she was home alba and i would argue over who got to hold her, help with feeding, dress her. at night we would drag our pillows in and sleep on the floor by her crib, we used to talk to her for hours and she would just giggle at everything." alexia smiled looking off into the distance with a forlorn gaze.

"then as she grew up and got a little older she could be so annoying. always following alba or i around wanting to do whatever we did, always wanting to be around us and just like us, copying anything we did, stealing our clothes to wear too. but i used to get her to mimic whatever alba said for hours and hours, she hated it but fresa always did whatever i asked." alexia chuckled at the memory, a small smile tugging at her lips before it slowly faded.

"but the way she looked at me the other night, like i was just a stranger in her home who she didn't even know. where is my little pequeña with strawberry stains all over her shirt who looked at me like i was the center of her universe? our fresa." alexia managed to whisper out as olga winced.

"mi amor, she grew up." the brunette spoke softly as alexia nodded. "sí. i took my eyes off her for a second and now she is all grown up, and i have failed her as a sister." alexia muttered bitterly, angry now at herself and how she had been so selfish and blind to everything.

"then fix this alexia. make things right with her before she grows up anymore and it is too late."

~

you'd not heard them arrive as you were in the shower getting ready to hang out with your friends, eli surprised to see both her other daughters at her front door when she opened it.

"hola mami. can we come in?" alexia started, both girls having been far too ashamed of their behavior to reach out much this week as eli nodded and moved aside, both her girls kissing her cheek hello.

"is fresa here?" alba asked hopefully as they both took a seat at the island, eli returning to the kitchen to keep making dinner. "sí, she is in the shower." eli nodded, turning around to stir the rice boiling in the pot as alexia and alba shared a look.

"so you have both thought about what we spoke of?" eli asked without turning back around, glancing over her shoulder her eldest two nodded. "we have and we want to fix things. we really really want to fix things with her mami, thats our baby." alexia spoke for the two of them as eli turned around with a small smile.

"i told you both, she is not a baby anymore." eli cautioned gently, scraping the vegetables off her chopping board and into the pot. "she will always be a baby, our baby. but we know she has grown up mami, and we want to be there to watch her continue to." alba spoke now as eli hummed.

"so you are both going to make an effort then? and because you want to, not because you feel you have to?" eli clarified as her daughters nodded in promise.

"we don't know how we let it get so bad mami, we thought she was just...spending time with her friends, that she didn't need us around as much." alexia admitted guiltily as eli only hummed.

though before another word could be said footsteps were heard and your eyes widened as you stepped into the living room and suddenly there was 3 pairs of eyes trained on you.

"hola hermanita." alexia spoke first, tone soft and as she smiled your hackles went up, sure that this had to be some sort of trap. "hola." you replied back curtly, tearing your eyes away and edging around the room.

"i'll be home later mami." you smiled grabbing your house keys as your hand hovered on the door handle. "wait hija!" eli called out as you raised an eyebrow.

"can you stay for dinner? meet your friends after, i made your favorite." eli offered, though her tone conveyed that this was still your decision, not wanting to push you into anything as you tried to ignore your sisters eyes boring into the side of your head.

"vale, i will message them now." you agreed with a small smile, hurrying back to your room before anyone could say another word. as alba went to stand and go after you eli sent her a look which said it all, they needed to let you come to them.

"nena! dinner is done." eli called out to you a few moments later as alba set the table and alexia helped dish up. "i can go get her?" the eldest putellas offered when everything was ready and you'd still not ventured out of your room.

eli nodded and alexia set off, pausing outside your door with a hand raised, pausing for a moment before knocking gently, stepping back suddenly as it swung open.

"dinner's ready fresa." alexia smiled as you only nodded curtly. "don't call me that." you replied quietly, shuffling past her and heading for the living room as alexia frowned and deflated at your words.

"why not?" alexia followed after you though if you heard her you made no move to acknowledge it, alba patting the chair next to her with a hopeful smile as you ignored the offer and sat down next to eli.

alexia knew she should drop it, try not to push and let you come to her but as you all sat down to eat she couldn't help it. "why can't i call you fresa?" you paused at the question before rolling your eyes.

"because i'm not a baby anymore, its a stupid nickname." you mumbled before shoveling a forkful of food into your mouth, eli sending alexia a sharp stare warning her to drop the topic as she started to argue your answer.

an awkward silence fell around the table as you shifted uncomfortably, well aware of the four eyes boring into you across the table as you stared down at your food and tried to pretend it was like any other night and they weren't there.

but given the set table and change to your regular routine, it was hard to ignore completely.

growing up you'd always had a strict family rule about eating all together and always at the table, no exceptions. though as the years passed and suddenly it was just you and eli she had softened, the two of you often sitting together on the lounge eating dinner and watching some sort of spanish soap most nights.

"so, how is work going?" you heard alba ask and assumed the question was directed at your mami, zoning out a little until you felt a gentle nudge to your shoulder and looked up, blushing when you realized your sister was actually asking you.

"its fine." you shrugged quietly, a pause following as everyone waited for you to elaborate. when you didn't eli decided to step in, taking the slightest amount of pity on the obvious struggle your sisters had to try and mend things.

"she can now test and take the blood, she is thinking about going to medical school." eli spoke proudly as you glanced at her with a small smile and your sisters eyes widened in surprise.

"to become a doctor?" alexia asked quite stunned as you scoffed. "no to become a firefighter." you rolled your eyes again as alba snickered quietly, wincing as alexia stomped on her foot and shot her a glare.

"to become a nurse." eli corrected as you nodded. "what about tennis, do you have a competition coming up?" alba asked as you gave her a strange look. "i don't play anymore" you reminded as she frowned.

"how is mariona?" alexia asked next, referencing your childhood best friend, someone you were no longer friends with. "how would i know?" you shrugged still looking down at the table in front of you and starting to eat a little faster, uncomfortable with all this sudden attention and interest.

"well she is your best friend, no?" alexia questioned in confusion. "no she's not." you mumbled shifting a little as eli caught her daughters eye and subtly shook her head, urging her away from the topic as alexia frowned but dropped it none the less.

"i didn't think you liked peppers pequeña, used to fight and kick and spit them out." alba chuckled quickly changing subjects as you continued to eat. "almost like when people grow up their tastes change, crazy!" you muttered sarcastically as your sisters grin fell away.

"what about art? are you still taking classes?" alexia swooped in next as you raced to finish your food and eli watched on at the trainwreck this dinner was fast becoming. "don't do that anymore." you answered quietly among mouthfuls.

"why? you were so good fresa." alba frowned as there was a clatter as you dropped your fork into your now empty bowl. "don't call me that. i'm not your fresa, or your pequeña, or your hermanita or your chiqui. i'm not a baby anymore!" you warned with a huff, grabbing your empty bowl and standing.

"can i go now please mami? my friends are here." you asked eli in a much calmer tone who nodded as you darted to the kitchen, rinsing out your bowl.

"i'll be back late, don't wait up." you ducked down to kiss eli's cheek and made a beeline for the door, grabbing your keys. "what you don't say goodbye to us anymore?" alexia spoke up as alba elbowed her with a glare.

"oh no i forgot alexia. it must have been an accident!" you bit back, clearly intending your words to mean something else, enjoying the way your eldest sisters face paled.

"hermana i really need to-" but alexia couldn't finish her sentence before the door was closing and you were gone. "nice one ale." alba mumbled with a shake of her head, grabbing her and eli's bowls.

"don't wait up, how late does she normally get back mami?" alexia asked with a frown, ignoring her younger sister who was washing up their dishes.

"whenever. she has never been dishonest with me about her plans, i trust her and she is responsible, more than either of you two were at her age." eli pointed out as both girls scoffed. "mami!"

"so she just comes home in the middle of the night and you say nothing? she's seventeen!" alexia scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

"like i said alexia, i trust her. she might be seventeen but she has had to grow up a lot faster than most girls her age trying to keep up with the two of you." eli warned softly as alexia fell quiet. "those are her friends?" alba asked, watching out the window as you walked up to a car and two girls got out.

alexia was up and by her side in an instant, both your sisters watching you hug the two older girls before getting into the car and taking off. "they are too old for her to be hanging out with. what about all of her other friends from school? mariona? natalia?" alba questioned with a frown.

"like i said hija, your sister has grown up a lot faster than other teenagers. as for mariona, you will never mention her name in this house or around your hermana again. sí?" eli spoke firmly as both girls frowned.

"why? mami what happened?" alexia questioned as the older woman sighed, both girls taking their seats at the table across from her again. "when your sister left school, she drifted from her friends. nothing bad, but she worked and had different interests and schedule availability than they did. but mariona did not take it well." eli started to explain.

"she invited fresa to a party saying she missed her and wanted to reconnect, i dropped her there and everything seemed fine. your sister called me a few hours later and she was very upset, i picked her up and she wouldn't tell me what happened at first." eli sighed with a shake of her head.

"what happened mami?" alba asked quietly.

"your sister was seeing someone, only for a little while but she liked her a lot, it was her first girlfriend. mariona and this girl told her at the party in front of everyone it was all a bet to embarass her, the girl said she never liked her, everyone laughed at her and she left." eli finished with another deep sigh.

"they grew up together, they were best friends. how could she do that?" alba asked in disbelief as alexia sat beside her seething. "why does a sixteen year old girl do anything nena? teenagers can be cruel." eli smiled sadly as alba hummed.

"i will kill her." alexia stated with a determined nod, rising to her feet as eli scoffed. "you will do no such thing and you will not mention a word of this to your sister! sit down and promise me alexia." eli warned sternly as the blonde locked eyes with her, eli raising an eyebrow daring her to argue.

"prometo." alexia mumbled, sinking back down into her seat. "why didn't she tell us? she used to tell us everything." alba spoke up now as alexia sat back with her arms crossed and a stormy look on her face.

"she did, and then you both stepped away and fresa had to find other people to go to. those girls might be older but they are her friends, they were there for your hermana through all of that. they have looked after her and helped her in the ways i would have expected you both to, they are good girls and good friends to fresa." eli's tone was swift as again, needing to cut into both her daughters in front of her.

"but they aren't her sisters mami, we are. she's supposed to come to us, so we can protect her and look after her." alexia grumbled, still with a face like thunder, a slight jealousy brewing in her eyes.

"sí, but you have not done either of those things lately alexia and if you want to fix this then you need to admit that to yourself and own it. your sister had to find other ways to protect herself and other people to care about her when she felt like both of you stopped." eli raised her voice slightly now as alba shrunk into her seat wracked with guilt and alexia's hardened gaze fell to the ground.

"she tried to come to you and i watched her be hurt and dismissed by both of you and i will always regret not stepping in sooner. but i am stepping in now and if you both do not want to lose her forever, make the effort, do the work and fix this."

~

you waved goodbye to your friends as you arrived to the front door, rummaging around in your hoodie pocket for your keys, shoving them into the lock and stepping inside as your friends peeled off having waited until you got inside safely.

when you heard the tv you shook your head with a smile, closing and locking the door behind you as your keys dropped into the bowl with a clink.

"mami i told you not to wait u-" you fell silent as you rounded the corner and realised it was in fact not your mami sat awake, but rather both of your older sisters were staring back at you, a movie playing in front of them which neither seemed to be paying much attention to.

"oh, you're not mami." you mumbled, giving them a suspicious once over. but before you could even blink suddenly two taller bodies were pressed against you and you tensed at the unwanted and unexpected contact.

"qué es esto?" you asked, arms pinned down to your sides as your sisters clearly attempted to force you into some sort of group hug. "get off!" you huffed, trying to push them off or wiggle away to no avail.

"just hug us." alba demanded as you rolled your eyes and managed to shove her away, darting out of alexia's reach as she grabbed for you next. "you are both so weird." you grunted out with a scowl, hovering in the hallway.

"why are you still here anyway? do you not have your own homes to go to." you rolled your eyes once you had, shoving your hands into the pocket of your hoodie.

"you know at one point we used to live here, it was our home too fresa." alba spoke up first with an amused smile which only soured your mood. "yeah used to." you mumbled under your breath.

"and i told you both to stop calling me that." you spoke up louder now with a small huff. "since its miraculously your home again you can both show yourselves out then." you rolled your eyes yet again and turned to head off to your own room.

"fres-no wait, por favor." alexia called out as you stopped, shoulders dropping as again you looked toward them. "we waited up and thought you might want to watch a movie? we could stay over and all hang out." alexia asked perking up hopefully as alba nodded in agreement and sent you a smile.

"why would i want to to do that?" you replied bluntly, raising an eyebrow as you looked coldly back to both of them. "pequeña we know we have not been around or been there for you like we should have been lately, we want to fix that." alba started gently as your eyebrows furrowed.

"oh sí? you do?" you perked up as if interested as both of your sisters both brightened. "well i don't, i told you both the other night. stay out of my life!" your fake enthusiasm dropped as your eyes narrowed into a glare.

"hermanita por favor we-" alba again continued as you scoffed and shook your head, taking a step forward and cutting her off. "i am not your fresca or your chiqui or your pequeña or your hermanita. i am not a little kid anymore, the two of you made sure of that." you spoke so coldly it was near unrecognisable.

"what is that supposed to mean?" alexia frowned as you barked out a laughter which was anything but humerous. "i think you know exactly what it means. i am not stupid, i am smarter than both of you and i do not need your pity or your guilt now your heads are out of your asses!" you snapped, fists balled by your side.

"your friends cannot replace us even if you try nena, we are your sisters by blood. you will not succeed in pushing us away." alexia spoke holding her head a little higher as you snickered in disbelief.

"oh i am pushing you away am i ale? i am pushing you? would you like me to push you alexia?" you stepped forward and shoved at her chest, the towering girl barely moving as her hands grabbed yours.

"get off!" you hissed trying to pull your hands free. "no. i love you and i will fix this, we both will." alexia's voice wavered for just a moment as you fought her to let you go as she just attempted to bring you into a hug.

"quítate de encima!" you yelled now, your chest growing tighter with anxiety and feeling like a cornered animal as your sisters strong arms refused to let you go. "alexia." alba warned quietly, catching her eye as alexia shook her head.

"no! i love you. i love you vale? i am so sorry for not showing it and making you feel like i did not fresa. i love you mi hermanita!" alexia let go of your hands and grabbed at your face, forcing your eyes to lock with hers.

with a broken grunt you wrenched them away and shoved her again, catching her off guard as she stumbled backward and grabbed the corner of the counter to stop from falling over.

"hey hey, take a breath chiqui por favor, lets all just calm down." alba tried to coo at you, stepping closer as you instantly recoiled and shook your head. "why won't you listen!" you yelled at her now, chest heaving to try and force back the sob which wanted to rip free from it.

"i am not a baby anymore. you want to fix things? you love me? you miss me and suddenly want to hang out with me? ask me questions about my life? as if you suddenly care?" you could only whisper out now as hot tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes and you angrily wiped them away with the back of your hand.

"hija." your head whipped sideways to see eli stood a few feet away with a concerned gaze as you wordlessly shook your head. "no. no! no. vete a la mierda!" you spat venomously at the two older girls and took another step back still shaking your head.

"you both have no idea what it is like to go from having a home filled with laughter and love and noise to nothing. one day we were all living here and it was happy and i was happy and you both cared about me. we ate dinner together, we went to watch barca, we would stay up late watching movies and go for drives. but then the next suddenly it was just me here, just me." you started, swallowing hard as your nails buried crescent shaped dents into your palms where your fists were tightly clenched by your side.

"I had to watch the two of you grow closer and closer, going on trips together, out for dinners, to concerts, eating meals at each others houses, to football games together when ale was injured, through a phone screen." you continued, everyone else stunned to silence at the outburst which eli had feared was a long time coming

"when i felt you both pulling away i tried reaching out. for months i tried calling, texting, i barely got one word replies or your voicemails. i posted photo after photo after photo of me hanging out with friends just so you might see and invite me to hang out with either one of you!" you confessed, again angrily wiping away a few stray tears.

"you don’t come over for family dinners anymore but you always seem to be eating at each others houses without me, you didn’t even notice I stopped coming to your stupid football games alexia, and you didn’t even notice we haven’t gone for breakfast in months when we used to go every single sunday alba, every one!" your voice raised again as you swallowed down a hard lump and continued.

"but why would you notice? i am just a-what was it ale? a stupid, selfish little accident." you growled as your sister rapidly shook her head.

"no no no mi pequeña por favor i did not mean it, no no no lo siento mucho i did not mean it, promesa." again your eldest sister surged forward to cup your face in her hands, heart breaking at how small and defeated you suddenly looked. "off!" you harshly pushed her away and shook your own head.

"you meant it, and you knew it would hurt me and thats why you said it. at least own that alexia, own it!" you yelled those final two words so hard your throat started to hurt, exhaling shakily.

"my entire life i have done nothing but look up to both of you. i have held you both on a pedestal for years and i wanted to be just like you. i looked at you like super heros por el amor de dios!" you laughed as a sob got caught and came out more like you were choking.

"but then you left me behind and suddenly i did not matter, my life did not interest you, i was not old enough or cool enough or whatever to gain any of your time or care anymore. you both left me here all by myself without a single word! you. left. me." you worked to choke out, fighting to catch your breath as your body shook.

"when you both left everything I did was to try and get you to want to spend time with me again. i played tennis so you might come and watch my games and be proud of me alexia, you never came. i did art so you might see and want to come to a class with me alba, you never did. i forced myself to grow up and try to seem like I was more than just your annoying little hermanita, so you might look at me like a friend and want to hang out sometimes." you shook your head, the tears now flowing freely and leaving a salty bitter taste in your mouth as you spoke.

"but none of it worked and I watched you two grow closer while i never felt further away. so my friends are older but they care about me, they want me around and they ask about my day and they invite me on trips and out for dinners and we go get lunch and we have sleepovers and watch movies and go to the beach and go for drives late at night singing to the radio." you listed off not even pausing to take a breath.

"all the things I used to crave the two of you wanting to do with me like we used to but you never did. so I filled that void, and i no longer care what either of you think. i grew up, by myself. i have my own life, my own support system of friends that love me and want to spend time with me. who know what i like and remember my interests and actually ask me about them because they care not because they suddenly feel what? guilt? hermana's there is no need. i had my time to be hurt, and let me tell you it hurt to watch the two of you leave me behind and ice me out when i did not even know why or what i did." you laughed again, a hauntingly broken noise which echoed around the otherwise dim and silent living room.

"so no. i do not want to watch a movie with you or be interrogated at dinner with a million questions of my life because neither of you can bother to call me or see me or care about what i am doing. i want you both to listen to me, know how much you hurt me, and just like you have been, i want you to leave. me. alone." your voice once again cracked on that final word as you spun around and all but sprinted to your room, slamming your door and sinking down against it with your head in your hands.

"i need you both to leave, now." eli spoke up quietly breaking the thick, uncomfortable and unbearable tension which had festered around the room, your sisters stunned to silence for once in their lives.

"mami-" alexia started, voice hoarse and croaky as eli shook her head and pointed to the door. "go." she ordered, refusing to meet either of their eyes which desperately bore toward her seeking any sort of comfort or solace, a gentle reminder that this would all be okay, that you could all work it out.

but they recieved nothing.

so with heads bowed and tears edging at the corners of their eyes they did as they were asked, eli only finally looking up once she heard the front door close and a car engine start, locking the door and hurrying to your room.

"oh mi preciosa." eli sighed, slowly opening your door and finding you curled into a ball on your bed, body wracked with sobs silenced into the pillow pressed against your face.

the moment you felt the bed dip you sat up and all but launched into her awaiting arms, breathing ragged and broken as you struggled to try and stop the tears which seemed to have burst like a dam.

eli's heart broke both at the sight of you and the realization of just how deep these new cracks ran within her daughters as she pressed soft kisses into your hairline and hugged you tightly.

"todo saldrá bien nena, te lo prometo."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part three

[the-flaneur]

hi flan! Could i pleas have charles leclerc and a boiling flask labelled with a sticker (i dont mind a marker if you would prefer) to mix together phosphorous, cobalt and tin with a blue pill and bath water?

double trouble (cl16)

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

phosphorus "you know, i could always get you off here right now" + cobalt "please..." "you need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? tell me what you really want" + tin "i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that” & blue pill sub!reader + bath water size kink

warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, public sex (or sex in a public location aka the bathroom), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), size kink, bratty!reader, very little plot

wc: 1865

a/n: first request ever! hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to send me more requests :)

[masterlist] [requests]

the quiet jazz in the restaurant was of little comfort to charles tonight. 

usually, he was excited at the prospect of a double date with you, max and max’s girlfriend, eager to be able to catch up properly with his friend and their lives outside of racing (albeit max’s still very racing dominated off time)

however tonight you were being a fucking brat.

you had been teasing him all day, from your grocery shop this morning where you “accidentally” backed into him, rubbing your ass against his bulge, or when you went to take leo on for a walk, and you accidentally bent down too far while scoping up leo’s poop, showing charles your gorgeous lace panties under your skirt, or even just before the date, when you walked into the bedroom, stark naked except your heels, and then cheekily asked if you looked good and then shutting the door so you could change in “peace”

charles was hard, horny and desperate to get his hands on your hips.

so when you started your teasing again, charles knew he had to do something about it.

it being the fact that your hand was trailing up his thigh, your manicure tickling the skin near his bulge, before you pressed a firm two fingers into his bulge and rubbed it.

“merde,” charles groaned quietly, leaning back into the plush booth couch and very grateful that the jazz trio had started their music once again, so that his exclamation remained unknown to max and his girlfriend. 

“mmm cherie, please move your fingers away,” charles muttered, trying to grab your wrist, but you giggled, before moving you fingers instead towards his belt, and toying with the buckle.

"you know, i could always get you off here right now,” he bit his lip, watching as you slowly pulling his dress shirt out, revealing his gorgeous waist and lightly defined abs which you loved.

“you say otherwise but you love this, don’t you…imagine me giving you a handjob while our friends are just sitting across from us,” you teased, and charles almost growled aloud at your teasing words, and now he was done with you.

snatching your wrist away from his bulge, pinning them to his lap, before working his own hands beneath your dress

“yeah you would like that you slut, wouldn’t you? me at your mercy for once in your life. well too bad, cause you’re my slut, and my brat to play with tonight,” he whispered, pressing his mouth against your earlobe, before tapping his fingers against your soiled panties

you whimpered softly as charles' words sent shivers down your spine, the touch of his fingers against your damp panties making you clench around nothing, "y-yes... i'm yours," you breathe out, a softness creeping into your voice against your brattiness tonight.

as charles continues to whisper dirty promises, you suddenly feel an urgent need to escape, "wait, i really have to use the restroom," you address the group, trying to sound casual while squirming slightly in your seat and pulling charles’ fingers away.

charles raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "oh? and why's that, little girl?" he leans back, folding his arms across his chest as he watches you intently. "trying to get away from me already?"

you bite your lip, avoiding eye contact as you fidget with the hem of your skirt. max and his girlfriend exchange knowing looks, aware of the brattiness you bring to the relationship and charles’ rough hand to bring you back down to earth.

feeling flustered under their amused gazes, you quickly stand up and make your way towards the restrooms, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. once inside the stall, you take a deep breath, letting the cool air hit your flushed face. leaning against the wall, you run a shaky hand through your hair, attempting to calm your racing heart.

after a few moments, you hear the door creak open behind you. glancing over your shoulder, you spot none other than charles entering the stall, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"well, well, well... looks like my little fucktoy needs some privacy," he says, closing the door behind him and locking it. his voice is low and husky, sending a thrill straight to your core. without warning, he steps closer, his large frame crowding you against the wall.

your breath hitches as charles looms over you, his presence both intimidating and exhilarating. the smell of his cologne mixed with the musk of his skin fills your nostrils, making your head spin.

"what do you think you're doing, coming in here with me?" you manage to stammer, even as your body betrays you, pressing back against the cold tile in a futile attempt to create distance from his overwhelming nature.

charles chuckles darkly, his hands finding your hips and gripping them tightly. "i could ask you the same thing, sweetheart. you're the one who insistently teased me on this little alone time."

he leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "but since we're here together, let's put that pretty pussy of yours to good use, hmm?"

“please…” you whimpered pathetically, watching in a haze of arousal as charles rips your delicate panties to shreds, the torn fabric fluttering to the floor. your cheeks burn with shame and desire as he teases your sensitive clit with a single finger, circling the swollen bud with maddening slowness.

"you need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? tell me what you really want," he growls, tracing his fingers maddeningly close and smirks when you attempt to push yourself down onto him.

"i-i want... i want you to fuck me," you admit, the words tumbling out in a rush, "please, charles... use me. make me yours..."

his dark chuckle vibrates against your skin as he presses harder against your clit, coaxing out more of your needy whimpers, "that's more like it, baby girl. now, let's see if you can handle something a bit bigger than just my fingers, shall we?"

"i-i want... i want you to fuck me," you admit, the words tumbling out in a rush, "please, charles... use me. make me yours..."

his dark chuckle vibrates against your skin as he presses harder against your clit, coaxing out more of your needy whimpers, "that's more like it, baby girl. now, let's see if you can handle something a bit bigger than just my fingers, shall we?"

gasping sharply, you nod eagerly, craving the sensation of being stretched wide by charles's girthy cock. the thought sends a jolt of liquid heat pooling between your thighs. "yes, please... i need it," you plead, spreading your legs further apart in invitation. "fill me up, charles,"

with a wicked grin, he frees his impressive erection from his pants, the thick shaft bobbing menacingly as he lines it up with your entrance. "brace yourself, darling," he warns, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

then, with a powerful thrust, he sheathes himself fully inside you, the sheer size of him forcing a strangled cry from your throat. you cling to him desperately, nails digging into his back as he begins to move, each deep stroke dragging you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

you cry out loudly as charles plunges deeper, the stretch of his massive cock tearing a raw moan from your throat. each brutal thrust hits a spot within you that sets off sparks of electric pleasure, making your toes curl and your back arch involuntarily. you attempt to clasp a hand over your mouth, trying to curb the wanton noises escaping between your lips, but charles has none off that.

"i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that," charles purrs, his lips brushing against your ear as he pounds into you relentlessly. "let me hear how much you love taking my big dick,"

despite your best efforts to keep quiet, your quickly body betrays you, moans spilling past your lips with every merciless stroke. the shame only adds to your arousal, your inner walls clenching tighter around charles's throbbing length as he fucks you with wild abandon.

"you're so fucking tight, baby,"

wailing shamelessly as charles ravages your aching cunt, you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensations coursing through your veins. the obscene slap of flesh against flesh echoes through the small stall, mingling with your desperate cries and charles's guttural grunts.

"so full... oh god, charles!" you keen, fingernails raking down his muscular back hard enough to leave marks. "fuck me harder!" he obliges with a feral growl, pistoning his hips faster, driving his huge cock impossibly deeper. your vision starts to blur at the edges as the coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

"gonna cum soon, aren't you?" charles rasps, nipping at your neck roughly. "go ahead, slut. cum all over my fat cock."

with a final keening wail, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, every muscle seizing up as pure ecstasy consumes you whole. your pussy spasms violently around charles's enormous shaft, milking him as you convulse helplessly in his arms.

"f-fuuuuck!" you sob brokenly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as the intense pleasure borders on pain. it feels like charles is splitting you open, reshaping your insides to fit him perfectly.

in response, he snarls savagely, burying himself to the hilt one last time before erupting deep within you. thick ropes of molten seed paint your quivering walls, marking you as his property in the most primal way possible.

shuddering through the aftershocks of your climax, you feel charles' hot release flooding your already oversensitive pussy. the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he pumps you full of cum only heightens your bliss, leaving you limp and boneless in his grasp.

as charles slowly softens inside you, he pulls out with a wet pop, his spent cock glistening with your combined fluids. you can't help but gaze up at him

"look at you," charles murmurs, tucking his softening member back into his pants. "such a good little cumslut, taking everything i give you without complaint." he smirks, adjusting his clothing with a satisfied air.

still reeling from the intense fucking with charles, you stumble out of the bathrom, blinking in the bright lights of the restaurant. to your surprise, max and his girlfriend are nowhere to be seen, the table where you ate is cleared of their presence.

a folded piece of paper catches your eye, sitting atop the now-clean tablecloth. curious, you pick it up and read the brief message scrawled across the page:

we know how much fun you guys like to have so here's dinner on us, but you owe us for next time ;)

a flush rises to your cheeks at the implication, and you quickly crumple the note, tossing it aside. just then, charles appears beside your shoulder, looking every inch the self-assured boyfriend once more.

"well, looks like our friends made themselves scarce," he remarks, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

“wanna go back home for round 2?”

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[sonarspace]

safeguard, kento nanami

synopsis: bf!nanami comforting you after an incident with a stalker. content: (dealing with a stalker). comfort. fluff. wc: 1.1k a/n: based on an ask. ee being stalked is so scary. need all stalkers to d!3 immediately 😒!

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. on your way to your boyfriend's apartment for a movie night you stop at a grocery store to grab some snacks. you get back in your car and start driving to his place. 15 minutes.

you're on a red light when you notice the van behind you has their headlights off and a dark tint. it's nightime so and the street lights are dim so you couldn't really see their face.

you start getting anxious, trying to think if you've seen this van before. and you immediately recall that it's the same van you saw at outside your gym a few days ago, with a beaver sticker on it's side.

the light turns green and you drive slow to see if they would overtake you but they don't. your anxiety is at an all time high confused about what to do, you call your boyfriend. "pick up, pick up," you mumble anxiously when the call goes to voicemail. you call him once more but still no answer.

you take a turn and the van follows. you're getting closer to your destination but the van is still tailing you. your phone rings and you quickly pick it up "hey sorry, i was in the kitchen. where are you? it's been twenty minutes." nanami's voice comes through.

"kento," your voice is shaking as you’re on the verge of tears. a sense of relief flooding you at hearing his voice, finally. "baby? are you okay? where are you?" he questions you worriedly. "yeah 'm okay. i— there's this van following me. i don't— i don't know what to do," you reply.

"what do you mean following you? where are you?" he asks and you can hear dishes clanking and nanami whispering a “fuck” when he hurts himself. "remember i told you about that weird van i saw at the gym the other day. i think it's the same one. i'm close to your place. i don't know how to lose them."

you hear him grab his keys and the apartment door shut in the background when he replies, "go to our usual cafe. i'll meet you there. okay?"

"okay. don't hang up." your breathing is erratic. "i'm here baby. don't worry, i'm here." he comforts you. "tell me. what snacks did you get for the movie," he asks trying to distract you. his footsteps hurried as he half runs to the cafe trying reach you quicker.

"i see you and i see the van. park on the side and come inside," he says and you let out a sigh of relief. he quickly snaps a pic of the van and sends it to ijichi 'get me information about the van and driver. quick'.

you make your way into the cafe and run into his arms. tears coating your face. "you're okay," he whispers into your hair. "i was so scared," you mumble into his chest. he hugs you tighter. "me too baby. but you're okay now. they can't hurt you, alright?" he pulls back a little to see your face.

you nod as you wipe the tears, "i'm sorry for—" you try to apolgize for worrying him but he quickly shuts you up "don't. don't apolgize." he furrows his eyebrows. "i'm always here for you, yeah? gonna always take care of you, don't do that." he gives you a quick kiss on your forehead.

"come on, let's go back home." you walk out of the cafe and the van is still there, parked a few meters away. "it's still here" you speak in a low murmur. your grip on his hand tightens.

as you start walking back to his place, nanami gets a text back from ijichi 'van belongs to an ex convict. served for 2 years for violation of restraining order and stalking. got out last month.'

he turns around. his expression something between disgust and rage. "fucking creep, let me go have a chat with him," he drops your hand but before he can go further you grab onto his arm "no, please ken. please. let's just go home," your voice quivers.

not wanting to stress you further he does as you say. "i'm going to take a shower," you sigh walking into the apartment. he texts ijichi and tells him to handle the guy.

as he’s waits for you he fluffs the pillows on the couch, adds a blanket, and dims the light, — wanting to create a comforting atmosphere for you. he decides you’ve been in the shower for far too long and joins you.

your head’s resting against the shower tiles when you hear the door open and shut. a quivering breathe escapes your lips as his hands wrap around your waist pulling you back into his chest.

you turn around in his arms and bury your face into his chest. your body trembles with each silent sob. he tightens his hold on you. “you’re safe. you’re okay. i’m here. never going to let you get hurt, my sweet angel. i promise.” he reassures you, gently rubbing your back.

at his words you finally look up at him and his heart clenches at the hurt in your eyes. he swears to himself then to make sure that guy ends up in prison again and to do his best to not have you feel this way. he kisses your forehead as if sealing his vow. he pulls you out of the shower and dresses you in his clothes.

he spends the next couple of days not too far from you. driving you to and from anywhere and everywhere you wanted to go. your personal chauffeur, bodyguard, boyfriend all in one. you were so grateful for him.

soon enough that guy ends up behind bars. he gives you a brief background on the guy in the van and how you were one of the few victims of his stalking mission.

one night while you’re watching a movie together, nanami hands you a black box with cute bow on top. inside it, you find a key. “we should pack whatever you have left at your apartment so you can move in with me,” he says – catching you off guard. you snap your head towards him and he smiles at you cheekily.

ever since you’ve moved in with him, he urges you to go out on your own – not wanting you to live in constant fear. apart from that nanami hires security personnel that follows you around from a distance to not overwhelm you but still makes you feel protected. moreover makes him feel at ease knowing you’re under safe watchful eyes.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 3

*Abby's sticker to Bucky*

After work, the Avengers are relaxing in the common room or playing pool like Clint & Bucky. Hitting Bucky on the shoulder, "I heard lunch was entertaining", Sam enters the room with Nat.

Bucky glares a Nat. "What? I couldn't help it. It was so cute."

"Cute? Are we talking about Miss Abigail Rose?" Steve smirks at Bucky leaning up against the wall by the pool table.

"Who is Abigail Rose?" Clint cocks an eyebrow at Bucky.

Natasha leans in excited to tell the story, "Fury's new assistant got called in today and she had to bring her daughter to work with her. Just cute as can be. Sweet and precocious. She had stickers all over her shirt. How old was she?"

"Two? Three maybe?"

"Adorable! Made a beeline straight to Bucky." Bucky tries to concentrate on his shot while shaking his head but the tips of his ears are turning red.

Incredulously, "Wouldn't give me the time of day," Steve acts disgruntled & shocked.

Sam teases,"You weren't her type. She's into Cyborgs."

Steve laughs, "You're right because she loved the arm! The arm was so pretty. 'I loves it!' "

"Poor mom was so embarrassed. Abby didn't want to leave Buck's side. Finally before she left she peels off a sticker from her shirt and sticks it to his arm."

Sam nods, "It was the 2yr old version of giving someone your insta." They laughs at Bucky's expense and Buck rolls his eyes.

Most people are afraid of him. He doesn't need to threaten or say anything for people to stay away. He did not have that affect on Abby. She didn't fear him at all. She seeked him out. Her tiny body leaning against him. She didn't cringe at the feel of cold metal. Her little fingers traced the gold detail on his arm.

Nat grabs Buck's arm, "Aw, where's the sticker?" Turning it, this way and that. "You lost it," Nat frowns.

Bucky pulls out his ID card and shows them the back where he stashed Abby's sticker, joining in with their laughter. "They were cute."

Clint catches him, "They??"

"She."

"Uh uh, man. You said they."

Natasha smiles slyly, ready to play matchmaker. "Y/N is gorgeous!" Bucky shrugs yet nods staring at the sticker before shoving the card back in his pocket.

*****

Some days are such a struggle. You never would have thought you'd be a widow with a baby to raise by yourself. Abby's father was a pilot in the Air Force. That's what attracted you to begin with. The image of a sexy daring fighter pilot. Things Jason did or talked about were so exciting. He was an adrenaline junkie for sure. Which is fun for a boyfriend, but not the best for a husband & father.

Now, its just you and Abby fending for yourselves. This job with the Avengers was heaven sent. It was so hard to make ends meet but now that you're with the Avengers, a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You'll be able to give Abby a better life. Yet, sometimes just the day-to-day chores overwhelm you.

You finished getting yourself ready for work and started tackling the task of getting Abby ready for daycare. You brush Abby's hair trying to get it into a ponytail. Don't know why you go through the effort, because it's just going to fall out by midday after playing and naptime. "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Today is school day?"

"Yes. You get to go to daycare and see Ms. Grace and all your friends."

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Remember the man with the pretty arm?" She tries to turn around to face you and you have to face her forward so you can get the ponytail up.

"Yes, I do."

"Me, too." You nod, knowing where this is heading already. "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Mr S'gent don't go daycare."

"No, he doesn't. He's a grown-up. He goes to work." Finishing her hair, you carry her back to the room to put on her shoes.

"Mama?"

Rolling your eyes, "Yes?"

"I'm not a grows up."

Sitting her on the bed you kneel before her to put on her socks & shoes, "Grown-up. No. You are my baby."

"Mama?"

"Abby Rose!" Making wide eyes at her, "You are making Mama crazy." Abby laughs and pats your head.

"Mama?"

"Yesssss, Abby. What?"

She places her little hands on each of your cheeks, "Cans I go to work with yous?" She gives you the most angelic smile. You growl, picking her up & throwing her over your shoulder. She screams and giggles. "Mama!!!"

Bringing her down, to prop her on your hip, grabbing her backpack & your bag to make the trek to her daycare which luckily is only a couple blocks away. "You need to go to daycare."

"But...but...I wants to be with yous," she pouts.

"But...but...NO. You don't want to be with me. You want to see Sargent Barnes." She throws her head back and laughs with a cackle. You shake your head at her. Excuse me, Lil Miss! Who's child is this??

"Mamaaa."

"Abbyyyy." You laugh but sober up, "I'm sorry, baby, but no. You need to go to school."

"But...but...what if he forgets me."

"He will never forget you. He has your sticker. He has your drawing."

She puts her thumb in her mouth & nods her head, but she looks sad. She rests her head on your shoulder for the rest of the walk to daycare.

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute

[tvgals]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ IN EVERY UNIVERSE .

— when traveling across multiple universes, miles learns the two of you are together in every single one .

e1610! miles morales x black! fem! reader .

miles pants as he’s in a universe that looks eerily similar to his own, but he knows it’s not his due to the sound of his own voice ringing from his bedroom. miles soundly walks through the house — going unnoticed due to his invisibility — and peeks through his bedroom door to see you and miles sitting on his bed, you placing stickers on his face.

“just stay still!” you giggled, placing a heart sticker on his tip of his nose. “what are we doing this for again?” miles asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could but not being able to hide the amusement in his voice. “gotta take pictures of you for our scrap book, plus i can’t let these stickers go to waste.” you tell him, snapping a picture on your phone and smiling when looking at the results. “see! isn’t it cute?” you questioned your miles, a love struck look in his brown eyes.

-

the next universe was by far his favorite. miles walked around looking at the pictures that hung on the walls or were placed carefully on a table or shelf, it was pictures of you and him — about 10 years older — with two little kids, one boy one girl. miles was taken out of his train of thought when he heard the giggles of a little girl. he waited to make sure no one else was in the way and he poked his head in through the crack in the door, watching you put the little girl’s afro into two puffs held together with pink ribbons.

“is daddy gonna like my hair?” the girl asks you, looking up at you with curious eyes. “well i dunno. let’s go find out, yeah?” miles instinctively moved out of the way and watched you and the little girl walk into the room where older miles was, watching your daughter jump on the bed and ask — “do you like my hair?” just for him to respond with picking her up and telling her how much he loves it.

-

the last universe miles was able to travel to was interesting. in this universe, it was just you and him inside an assumed shared apartment. miles tip-toes down the hall to hear you laughing at something he said.

“miles, just put the mask on!” you tell him, a goofy grin on your face. “i’m trying! the wand is too small.” miles complains, struggling to get the mask on his face. “here, lemme do it.” you say, taking the wand from his hand and applying it yourself, watching miles look down at you with love. “there.” you say, proud of your work. “now, let me do your nails!” you grin, watching miles’ eyes go wide.

“like paint them?” miles asks, following you with his eyes while you walk around the bathroom and gather the clippers and clear nail polish. “kinda. it’s a clear coat and it helps with breakage and stuff.” you tell him, coaxing him to sit on the toilet seat. “it won’t show?” miles asks, sadness in his voice. “well why are you sad about it?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “i just wanna show everyone what good of a nail artist my girlfriend is.” miles says, a dopey grin on your face. “we can do blue afterwards, i promise.” you say to him, smiling right back.

-

and this universe, miles was finally home. he knocks on your door, being let in by your mom.

“what brings you over here, miles?” your mom grinned, leaning against the door. “is it okay if i stay over? mom and dad are working late and i don’t wanna be alone.” miles says, twiddling his thumbs. “of course! rio and jeff know you’re here, right?” your mom asked, letting miles in. “of course. thank you.” miles says, practically racing up the stairs and into your room.

“miles!” you exclaimed, seeing him walk into your room. “hey, y/n!” he exclaimed back, catching you with a grin when you threw yourself into a hug. “where’ve you been?” you asked, checking his face to make sure he was okay. “had to stay over at school, just some project stuff.” miles shrugged. “oh, and i brought some face masks and a new notebook!” miles says, holding up the bag excitedly. “what’s the notebook for?” you ask, flipping thought the pages.

“i thought we could take up scrapbooking.” miles grins.

-

a/n this was based off of an idea i saw on my feed and i can’t find it 😞

TAGLIST ;— @looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @kisminarii @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @princesslilisworld @mxspiderman2099 @marcelineormars @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @planetspiderzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie

[syeren]

“How they would comfort you” — JJK MEN HEADCANNONS.

GENRE: Fluff, mix of comedic comfort, overall comforting auras <3

________

GOJO

gojo is so unserious please

if we’re talking about teenage!gojo, good luck.

atp you gotta help yourself with your own comfort because HE would do anything and everything to make you one of two things:

angry or trying to be angry at him but end up laughing

“Please?”

“No.”

“C’mooon—“

“I said no.”

Gojo lets out a huff in annoyance, mimicking the same movement as a child as he juts out his lower lip. “You’re no fun.”

You gave him a look, a look of pure disbelief and awe as your own boyfriend was throwing a tantrum. During your shift at work, it was obviously not the best. With customers blazing in with drink orders that stacked to the bottom of the sticker, spill-mishaps, and that bitchy manager of yours… You opted to vent to Gojo in hopes to ease your mind. Well… You had hope, atleast.

“I’m literally having the shittiest day and you—“

He cut you off, widening his eyes largely while staring into the depths of your soul. You had stopped talking as you also stared him down, not wanting to back off from the silent fight of eye contact. Copying him, you too enlarged your eyes with tears threatening to prick themselves close.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, still holding the eye contact. Without blinking, Gojo responded back in a monotonous manner.

“Looking.”

“For what?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re hopeless.”

The fight continued on, seconds passing as both of your eyes reddened from the lack of moisture. The air felt chillier, and any gust of air that passed both of your pupils would be deadly to this competition. You swore silently you wouldn’t lose this battle, and intensified your gaze with your eyebrows furrowed. Upon doing that, however, the sight of Gojo’s unblinking eyes and silent tears rolling down his cheeks was definitely a sight to see. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to ruin your opportunity to win until you let it out. Your shoulders shook as you giggled loudly within the bedroom, wiping the tears away as Gojo returned the same enthusiasm.

“W-Why the… Just why?” You asked, still heavily confused about the whole eye contact competition, but finding it ultimately amusing. You calmed yourself down, letting out the occasional breathless chuckle.

“I would rather you let out happy tears than sad ones. So, turns out I won anyway.”

“Fuck you.”

________

NANAMI

the BEST comforter, hands down

tbh i’ll say this honestly rn,,, i wasn’t a big nanami fan previously but even i would tell this man would be sooooo great at making you feel better

puts YOU firsthand, no objections

if you end up objecting tho, then he will take matters into his own hands

“I can take care of myself, y’know?” you stated firmly, trying to push off Nanami’s strong grasp around your arms. The man in question simply heard you cough once, and deemed it as a sign of you getting sick.

He let out a gruff sigh, not responding to you with words but through his actions, hoisting you up easily by your thighs and carrying you to his king-sized bed.

“One cough and you think this is the end of the world!”

“That one cough can end up making you think that the world is ending for you,” he retorted back, placing his hands on his hips as he finally situated you onto his bed; the plush duvet covers instantly swallowing you whole.

“You always think you can handle yourself,” he continued, pulling the duvet covers up and gently lifting your head from the pillow, fluffing it up a bit before placing you back down. “If you really want to try and take care of yourself, I will not dismiss that… However…”

He crouched down beside the bed, balancing on his haunches as he smiled softly at your tired expression.

“… At least let me aid you a tiny bit, love.”

________

MEGUMI

this hoe istg

hoe in a loving way by the way, pls don’t track me down

BUT! since this boy is SO nonchalant and passive, however he has that certain side to him that makes him so welcoming and warm. it’s charming, to say the least.

it’s like he knows you and your quirks so well that you didn’t even notice them at first

You and Megumi were walking hand in hand down the busy street of Tokyo, Harajuku, in hopes of finding the cute café you were eyeing a couple weeks back. You were astounded, of course, but Megumi was getting a little antsy of not being able to locate the café you had your sights upon.

“We’ve been walking for ages,” he sighed, matching his pace beside you through the busy streets. You gave him a look before flipping your attention back to the map on your phone, staring hard at the complicated details provided.

“No wait— Ahh! Maybe we take a left over here?” you said, turning abruptly which caused Megumi to be swallowed by the crowd. You whiplashed your head to the side to locate him, but to no avail, he was gone from your side.

A slight rise of anxiety started to bubble up in your chest until warm, slender fingers laced around your own. Peering up, you saw your boyfriend instantly by your side once more, leading you through the crowd wordlessly. Never once did he loosen his grip, it was firm and gentle. A tiny squeeze of his hand alerted you to look at him again, to which a little smile was plastered on his face.

“Hurry up. I found the café you were trying to find.”

You didn’t notice the same café’s address was in his phone’s search bar, though.

________

YUJI

LORDDDDDDD

golden retriever boyfriend right here

so undeniably understanding and prioritizing to your needs, no wonder he looks up to nanami a lot

i feel like he’d be the type of boyfriend who would go through a spontaneous, yet step-by-step routine to pamper you

You were over at Yuji’s house, unwinding and relaxing while playing on his PC. Well, trying to unwind and relax, but the stupid game you wanted to try out wasn’t going so well.

“Fuck!” you screamed out, running your fingers through your hair and tugging at your scalp. “I got the same character pull again!”

Yuji peeked over at the screen, apparently this game had a gacha system implemented in it. Certain number of pulls have a higher chance of a guaranteed character, but you weren’t so lucky.

“There’s no hope…” You groaned out, slumping back in your chair as Yuji inches closer to the screen. He eyes the character displayed on it, annoyingly mocking your very state.

“Can I try?” he asks with a wide, toothy smile.

You huffed out a sigh, glancing over back to the screen briefly before back at him. “I only have like… One pull left, but knock yourself out.”

He excitedly moves his body closer, instantly clicking on the character banner you were trying to get and watched the pretty hues of blues and yellows swirl around. Tiny sparkles littered the blackened screen, before—

“Is this a good character?”

Huh? You adjusted your torso once more and sat up to look at the screen to see the desired game character you’ve been wanting to get. This entire time, now gotten from the lucky hands of Yuji.

“Huh?!” you exclaimed loudly, eyes wide at the sight before you. There was no way that he pulled the character you were ogling over— One you spent your hard earned in-game currency on as well as losing every single time.

“I’m guessing he’s good! Judging that reaction of yours—“

“Fuck off,” you said with a distasteful tone, but a wide smile playing on your lips.

________

an; so basic but so cute 🫶

[honeipie]

Hi love! I love your works and writing style so-so much! May I please request Bakugou falling in love with a weak and sick fem!reader that is bound to hospital bed because of her disease (she can walk but she is too weak to do so). They could meet at the hospital while she still had strength to walk. Basically, he falls in love with her watching her wither away.My heart is craving angst and some soft Bakugou💔It's okay if you can't write it. Anyway, thank you!!! Sending you lots of love 🩷🩷

THE PROMISE

katsuki bakugo x fem!sickreader

synopsis: katsuki fell in love with you, but all good things must come to an end

author note: my first writing request i will treasure this forever!

cw: sick reader, the sickness is not specific, mentions of dying

“thank you for coming dynamite! the kids will be excited to see you here!” a woman in scrubs bowed in thanks, which katsuki only grunted at.

“don’t have to bow or anything, but you’re welcome” katsuki dipped his head a bit as a sign of respect. the woman held her clipboard with a smile.

“well aren’t you humble? come on now, the kids are right this way”

the nurse led him through a pair of doors that were decorated with stickers and kids names from top to bottom.

katsuki had decided that he would spend his volunteer days at the local hospital. it was either that or wearing a hairnet at the local soup kitchen. telling kids about some of his battles and even doing a damn craft if he had to.

now he had thought the doors were colorful, but the room was something else. children’s drawings were hung up all over the ceiling being held together by small clothespins and wire. there were shelves of toys and stuffed animals across just one wall, and a playmat for a safe area to have fun in.

though there were no kids on the playmat letting their imaginations run wild with dolls. neither were there at the easel’s painting a new picture to hang up.

they were all sitting at the table enthralled with something in front of them. katsuki was about to get their attention before he heard your voice.

“and then they came in contact with the evil king. he sat on top of his throne which towered above the hero and the princess”

“why’d he make his throne so high up?” one of the kids asked eyebrows scrunched together.

“because the king thought he was better than everyone. thought everyone was small compared to him, but that’s not the right mindset to have” the child nodded in understanding which allowed you to go on “then the king yelled out to the two-“ you looked up finally noticing the pro hero staring into your soul. your next words stopped in your throat at his presence.

blinking your eyes you gained your composure again sending the kids a smile “the king yelled out you’re gonna have to wait until next week to find out” all the the kids screamed ‘no!’ collectively, disappointed that their story time was being cut short. all you could do was laugh as they all gathered near your legs begging you to continue the story.

“i don’t think you’ll want to hear any more of the story when you see the special guest" all of the kids immediately turned around at your words now noticing the big pro hero that had been lingering behind them.

"dynamite!" they all screamed and went over to him as fast as they could. he was now being bombarded with questions and stories about himself.

"guys c'mon! let him breathe" you walked over giving him a smile "sorry, they're just really excited"

katsuki shook his head at your words "it's fine. better then damn villains attacking me-"

"he said a bad word! y/n he said a bad word!" the kids started feeding off of each other's energy until it turned into a full on shouting match.

"i heard it everyone don't worry, but dynamite is an adult so he's allowed to say the bad words" you gently tugged the kids away from dynamite so he could collect himself. some part in you hoped he had something planned, but he just seemed to stand there awkwardly. this was nothing like the hot-headed hero you saw on the television. he shifted his weight from one foot to the other looking at the kids, then up at you again. catching the memo you nodded.

"why don't we all introduce ourselves to dynamite, yeah? go find a seat and then we can start"

he watched as all of the kids followed your instructions without further push back. katsuki sent a subtle nod your way in which you returned "right this way dynamite"

you led him over to the chair you were sitting in "you can sit right here then we can go over names" katsuki sat down in the chair, but had to scoot up to the edge of it. between his hero suit and wide hips fitting in the chair simply wasn't going to happen.

for the next hour you directed as the kids introduced themselves and were able to ask the hero questions. katsuki answered most of the kids questions, well the one's that weren't 'do you have a girlfriend?' or 'why do you look mad all the time?'. your personal favorite being 'why do you sweat so much?'. as soon as it came out of the kid's mouth you burst out in laughter.

dynamite rolled his eyes not even looking at you "glad you found that funny"

"sorry! just- just wasn't expecting that"

by the time the last question was answered it was time for them to go back to their individual rooms "everybody say thank you to dynamite!"

"thank you dynamite!" they yelled out before filing out of the room one by one. there was a smile on your face as you turned to clean up but immediately jumped at the sight of the pro hero that was now particularly close to you.

"hi!" it came out in such a high pitch you had to clear your throat to make sure you were alright "thanks for spending time with the kids. they really enjoyed it i could tell"

"good"

his empty response only left you more confused. blinking away the confusion you put back on that polite smile of yours "well i'm just going to go clean" you stepped away from him walking over to the table. you had gotten the bright idea that each kid should make colorful nametags and give them to the pro hero.

"what was i doing wrong?" he asked quickly, but you still caught it.

"excuse me?"

"what was i doing wrong? cause some of the kids were looking at me like i was stupid when you walked in"

a smile crept onto your lips hearing his words. the katsuki bakugo asking for feedback.

"well i know you're a blunt man, so let me be blunt with you. when you walked in you kinda looked stupid. like you just got shocked by lightning and couldn't move. correct me if i'm wrong. that's probably because you don't have much experience with kids"

he scratched his chin a light stubble growing on his chin. he hasn't had much time to shave "i don't"

you could tell that there was more that he wanted to say, but couldn't bring himself to say it. taking one of the pencil boxes you slid it back into place "if you wanted to visit again. i could teach you some of the things i've learned along the years. i could take you on a walk around the hospital" his eyes stayed glues to the floor making you just a bit nervous "i didn't want to assume but the kids really had fun. plus i know they would love if you came back"

taking his fingers off of his chin he looked up. there was no way the paparazzi was catching him in a hairnet "okay, let’s go, show me around the hospital"

you raised your eyebrow at his swift demands and stepped aside to show him the mess on the table "i know you're some popular pro hero, but here? you're a volunteer. so what we're going to is clean this place up. then we'll see about that walk" you went over and gave him a pat on the shoulder "welcome to the team"

the next two months went by pretty quickly. he would come to hang out with the kids and you'd help him with how to interact with them and setting up activities. and after all the festivities were over you would take him on walks around the hospital.

this was the third month he had come, and you were showing him the gardens. the two of you had established your own kind of relationship with each other built on respect. he even let you call him bakugo now.

"sometimes i like to bring the kids out here and teach them all about the plants and how to garden. they don't like it because they're learning though. they like it because they're big dirtballs and love to play in the flowerbeds"

this made katsuki let out a stiff chuckle. he would take this to his grave, but he was genuinely enjoying the time that he volunteered here. his manager didn't have to threaten him with late night shifts just to blindly pick up volunteer hours anymore. there was some sort of fulfillment he got out of hearing the kids call "mr. dynamite" when they had a question. or when they laughed so hard their tiny stomach's hurt just because he called them "little brats". he watched as you went to sit down on a nearby bench going to make sure that the flowers next to them had been watered recently.

plus, he didn't mind spending alone time with you either.

he sat down next to you moving his focus over to your hands "you know a damn lot about this hospital. how long you been a volunteer?"

you stilled at his question, and he was one to notice details. you pulled your hands away from the flowers going to face him "i actually don't volunteer. i'm a patient" you didn't like people asking questions, so you prepared a speech every time someone asked "i don't know what illness i have. doctors have been running tests for years and they still can't seem to understand. at random times i'll just get things like flareups, or my body will become absolutely exhausted out of nowhere. there’s other symptoms too, but i don’t want to bore you with the details. they won't let me go because it's like every time i walk out of the walls of this hospital something bad happens and i need to go right back to bed rest"

katsuki did something that a lot of people who asked about your sickness didn't know how to do. he listened. he was attentive and never let his eyes leave your face as you explained.

"i've been in and out of here since i was a kid. that's why i know the hospital and the workers so well. that nurse that brought you in the first day? she was just my nurse years ago, but now she's head of the pediatric floor"

it was all coming together now. the way you showed him the most secluded hallways. how you knew what times they would be doing building wide activities. and he was finally making sense of your words that you had told him on his first day.

"you have to know the hospital to really understand the kids. i know it sounds stupid, but this is their home, and some people can't understand that. most of these kids spend more time in the hospital than they do in their own house. so know this hospital. have enough respect for them to at least try and understand what they're going through"

you had felt so deeply about this because you had gone through the same exact thing, and you weren't going to have someone mistreat these kids.

“cool”

your eyebrows raised at his response.

“cool? i just told you about my lifelong sickness and you’re gonna say cool?”

“well whaddya want me to say? you want me to treat you like a fucking dying plant?”

“no”

“then i’m going to say cool and we can move the hell on”

“wow! is the number two hero dynamite really being a sweetheart?”

with one hand he gave you a playful shove “fuck off” he mumbled taking that arm and letting it rest behind you on the bench “and call me katsuki”

as the months pass, katsuki grows more comfortable with the children, and with you. he decided that he should come more frequently. once every month turned into every two weeks. then those two weeks turning into one. the two of you never really defined the relationship. you didn’t need to. all that you needed to know was he cared for you, and you him.

it only took one week to change everything.

katsuki walked onto the children’s floor heading into the room. all of the kids were doing their centers, but you were nowhere to be found. he saw the nurse though, helping one of the children with a computer game. when he walked over he ruffled the hair on top of the kids head “sup brat. mrs. harada, ‘s y/n here?”

mrs. harada’s expression grew soft. she placed a hand on the child’s shoulder letting them know she’d be right back. gently she grabbed katsuki’s forearm and walked him to a corner of the room.

“y/n relapsed. it was a two days after you came to volunteer. she was fine, about to head out from cleaning then just collapsed”

katsuki felt his blood running cold. how the hell could this happen? he just saw you. you were just fine.

why didn’t you call him?

mrs. harada placed a gentle hand on his shoulder “i’m sorry. i know you two are close, and i'm sure you don’t know how to feel. i can tell you her room number so you can see her. i’ll step in for both of you today” she smiled writing it on a sticky note and handed it to him. he gave her a nod then went to storm out “bakugo” she called out to get his attention “i understand you might be feeling betrayed, and you’re allowed to feel that way, but y/n is feeling a lot at the moment. she finally thought she was getting better and- and here we are. so please go easy on her”

katsuki thanked her, then headed out the door.

he walked through the hospital on a mission. he didn't stop to greet anyone or take autographs. the only time that he stopped was when he saw your room number.

the door was cracked open, but he couldn't see you from the angle where he was.

it was strange.

katsuki has trained for more hours than he could count. he had been facing villain's since he was at least fourteen years old. he had been through a whole damn war for crying out loud. and yet, as he stood there he felt a weight he had never felt before.

you glanced up seeing katsuki walk through the door. your heart started beating faster as soon as you saw him. even if you tried to put up a facade about it, your heart monitor gave everything away.

“you found me”

“ ‘s not like you gave me any other choice”

you watched as he stood in the doorway. hand stuffed in the pockets of his sweats. you had recommended that he didn't wear his hero suit since it would probably get uncomfortable after a while.

"katsuki you can come in-"

"why didn't you tell me as soon as it happened?"

"it's complicated"

"then fucking explain it to me" he stared at you his face unmoving.

"fine" you sat up wincing slightly at the pain shooting up your spine. katsuki almost faltered seeing your face contort from the pain "I don't know why I didn't tell you okay? The thought crossed my mind about a thousand times, but I just couldn't do it" a shaky sigh left your body and you tried to fight back the tears "there's just a lot going on.. and- and-"

the door clicked softly behind him, but you hadn't noticed. katsuki had made his way next to your bed and was already climbing in beside you. the bed let out a groan because of the added weight. he wrapped one arm around you and wiped your tears with the other. his thumb had a rough texture from all the explosions they've let out throughout the years. but they were gentle for you, and only you.

"you don't gotta say anymore. i've got you"

you leaned onto his shoulder letting the dam of your emotions break onto him. tears ran down your face, but you let them flow this time.

so you cried, and you cried, and you cried and cried and cried.

and katsuki let you.

it had been a while before you could compose yourself again. the room was filled with comfortable silence and the occasional snuffle from you.

"do you feel better?" he asked turned his head to face you.

"yeah.. 'm sorry you had to deal with that"

"don't fuckin' apologize for crying"

you chuckled at his words going to grab a tissue to wipe any excess. he tilted his head some analyzing a spot on your face closely.

"you got somethin' right.. there" he swiped a piece of tissue that had gotten stuck on your face.

you faced him getting a better look from up close. blond hair stuffed under a black baseball cap. bags under his eyes from all of his night shifts.

katsuki couldn't handle you looking at him like that. eyes still puffy from crying. your tongue running over your lips.

fuck it.

katsuki's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck. he pulled you close as gently as he could. your foreheads touched before anything else.

"you don't want to kiss me. my face is disgusting" you whispered making him laugh, genuinely laugh.

"i've seen some disgusting shit and this isn't one of them"

you smiled before closing the distance between the two of you. there was a nice contrast to the kiss. between the roughness of his palm on your neck and his soft lips pressed against yours.

you could stay this way forever.

katsuki sneakily moved his tongue over your lips and pulled away. he made a face shaking his head "salty as shit"

"shut up!" you pushed him playfully making the both of you fall into laughter.

you and katsuki went on like this for months. constant visits, playful kisses, and when he was tired from patrol, he'd even let you read to him until he fell asleep.

but with the good, also came the bad.

your body had been getting weaker throughout the months. it came to the point where you couldn't get out of the bed unless you had help. katsuki had offered to take you on walks by putting you in the wheelchair, but you always refused. that is until you got the news.

"kats" you said causing him to lift his head from your shoulder "i wanna go on a walk"

he was confused at first. the sudden request to do something that you never wanted to was strange. though he didn't ask any questions as he went to get your things set up.

katsuki wrapped his arms around your torso lifting you up to be placed in the wheelchair. he had studied how the nurses did this thousands of times. you were embarrassed that he had to do this for you, but he'd do them a million times over it if meant walking with you.

there were no questions asked on where you wanted to go, you both knew.

katsuki pulled your wheelchair right next to the bench, but ended up putting you in his lap. you leaned against his shoulder looking at the cherry blossoms.

"when i die-"

"y/n don't start with that shit. you're not gonna die. you're gonna come back from this"

your one hand weakly played with the hair on the back of his head "we all die kats. it's okay if i talk about it"

"yeah, but you're talking about dying soon"

with a sad look in your eyes you watched his eyes follow the falling blossoms.

"can you at least promise me something then?"

"yeah"

"when i die, take care of the kids for me. you're so good with them and i don't trust just anybody handling it up there"

katsuki's eyes stayed glued to the trees in front of him.

"I can do that"

"and also-"

"idiot you said one promise!"

"hey! i'm dying i can make as many promises as i want" you smiled weakly at your own joke, but he didn't think it was too funny.

"promise to take care of yourself"

you saw his throat bob up and down at your words.

"you take care of so many other people and don't make time for yourself. learn how to rest kats. i can't have you dying either okay?" you placed a soft kiss on his cheek for good measure "you promise?"

katsuki rubbed one of his hands up and down your arm. a slow, shuddering breath leaving his mouth.

"i promise"

knowing that he would be okay you could finally rest, forever.

[satoruhour]

IDK IF U WILL SEE THIS OR ANYTHING BUT! is it ok if i request smth small and it starts off with gojo and the reader having a lil bit of banter by text, and the reader then says “satoru ur so pretty u should start a kissing booth for easy money” (as a joke ofc) and he was like “good idea” and went offline, making the reader freak out for the rest of the day until they came back to their apartment….. and found satoru set up a whole kissing booth in their living room

a/n: this is so cute!!! ty for the request anon <3 in this megumi is under satoru’s and reader’s care, tsumiki never went into a coma, and you’re married too / 1.3k

you loved satoru’s compliance. when you tell him that he should never cook again as a joke, he listens with a wide grin and a face that’s burnt on one side, sweeping the hard charcoal pieces of pancake into a pan. when you tell him you have two left feet, he simply laughs and just plops you onto his own, making you look like a fool waddling around.

a lovesick fool.

you’re left smiling into open space until a notification cuts you out of your daze, smile twisting into a questionable expression as your husband sends a picture of him posing in front of some boba tea shop, a promotional banner stating get spanked by one of our staff and get a free cup of boba tea!

[9:17am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: bet i’ll do it

[9:18am, delivered]: satoru. now. youll do it even if i dont bet you???!!?!!?!! 

[9:18am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: hmm… compelling argument, i’m afraid you’re correct

a few minutes pass and you are confident it’s him asking for a spank with a blinding smile on his face, probably pointing to one of the male staff because i have a wife at home, y’know? she’s so pretty and hot-headed and hot and—

[9:20am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: photo attached

boba acquired 😈😈😈😈

[9:21am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: oh yeah, one of the staff called me pretty. was a guy btw. had to flash him one of my peace signs and i just know he swooned

the raise of your eyebrows returned, though you stifle a chuckle.

[9:21am, delivered]: he did not swoon i promise you

and another picture comes in, his face all up in the camera with a comical pout on his face and your laughter comes out more freely this time, basically hearing the looks you’re getting from the commuters in the subway, though your eyes are only focused on satoru, on the curvature of his lips and the peek of his baby blues behind the sunglasses you bought for him.

[9:22am, delivered]: joking. you’re so pretty, you know that right

years ago you would’ve told yourself that it’ll only fuel his ego, but that was long before gojo satoru had decided you were everything and more; where he values everything you say, where you’re all he worships. one compliment from you could shut him up forever.

[9:23am, delivered]: you should totally start a kissing booth for like …. $4 a kiss or something

it’ll be easy money ngl and then we can share the gains 

[9:23am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: woah… good idea baby. alright then!

and gojo satoru goes offline immediately, leaving you left out in the cold, confused and perplexed when the satoru??? where the hell did you go??? texts fail to be read. it’s not often he does it, usually sending you a plethora of hearts or some stupid ugly sticker before the conversation ends. on the way to the school, you’re continually texting him, too, looking way more distracted than you would like to be in front of the students.

“sensei? any reason why you keep checking your phone?” yuji asks after lunch in the classroom, both arms tucked under his head.

“hm?” you answer but your eyes are still glued to the screen, the taunting ‘last seen at 9:23am’ taunting you endlessly and megumi looks like he has half a mind to just blurt it out, but he thinks it’s worth seeing your reaction later as he takes one more look at his adoptive father’s updates, sending picture after picture of his progress and he keeps the device tucked under to avoid any suspicion.

[14:09pm, my terrible father figure i guess]: do NOT !!!! SEND THIS TO MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE . i wll literally humiliate you in training later if you do

megumi sighs.

[14:10pm delivered]: don’t you already? also stop texting me loser she’ll find out 

the raven-haired boy later is left to comfort you later when you’re holding onto the phone a little too tightly, and by then you’ve already gone through every possible thought. satoru dying, satoru meeting a curse that’s higher than a special grade, satoru on a rampage to kill the higher-ups, satoru—

“you’re going to die worrying about gojo-sensei like that.” and you roll your eyes, hand fishing around in your bag for the keys to your shared home while your eyes never leave megumi. it’s been like this for as long as you can remember: you being the voice of reason, megumi taking your rambles like he always has, gojo usually just laughs.

“yeah? well? how could i not?” you fumble with your keys and pick out the right one, putting it in the keyhole easily from the many times you’ve done it and you swing open the door, “not when he’s the strongest who has to take care of so many things without any rest! what if he got distracted and took down infinity? what if he—”

and sometimes you hated gojo’s compliance (you’re lying to yourself).

upon opening the door, the living room was full of cardboard boxes and cut out shapes, paint over the floor and on his jujutsu uniform, an all-knowing, but still stunning grin that you wanted to slap off of him. the chaos of the cardboard led to one thing: a small counter completed with a tip jar, his free cup of boba tea and a large sign that said kissing booth: $4 for a smooch!

and a smaller sentence is parenthesis, ‘free for my baby.’ the statement almost, almost gets you but you manage to ask him in a monotonous voice, “what are you doing, gojo satoru?”

“hi…?” megumi smiles secretly to himself before closing the door for you, putting the keys in your outstretched hand and it’s sort of the routine the three of you fall into everyday now. alas, with tsumiki staying in her university’s dorms, it was a little lonely for megumi, but the two of you were enough entertainment for him.

“well i was just listening to you!” gojo gestured to the whole place, which will probably be a pain to clean up, “who can blame my silly little brain for wanting to do a project to make my wife happy?”

you cross your arms in retaliation, but in all honestly, you wanted nothing but to greet the sorcerer with an embrace, something you’ve been meaning to do since your worrisome attitude from the morning. reluctantly, you frown while you make your way to the makeshift counter, immediately leaning forward before satoru puts a finger on your lips with a teasing smile.

“ah! four dollars please!”

bonus

“i was really worried, y’know,” the words are muffled from the way you’re buried in his neck that night, inhaling the scent that you missed all day. it’s summer in japan at the moment, but you find yourself craving his skin more than ever, a hand going up to brush through his stark white hair.

“’m sorry, baby,” satoru pulls away from you, as with you, sending you a small smile before pecking your forehead, “i promise to tell you what i’m up to from now on.”

you lean forward to close the gap, and all the kisses you exchanged earlier were definitely not enough. softly, your arms wrap around his shoulders while a leg goes over his body, gojo sounding out a little surprised hum at your eagerness. smiling into the kiss, satoru only plants more kisses to your nose, your lids, to your eyebrows and your chin, and another gentle one to your lips.

“even if it’s arts and crafts or maybe attempting to make you some strawberry tarts.”

you slap his chest lightly, a faux shocked expression filling your features, “i thought we agreed no more strongest sorcerer in the kitchen?”

“of course, sweet girl,” satoru lands one last deep kiss to show you truly the extent of his love. but even then, he knew it wasn’t enough, so he hoped, at least his words were, “i only ever listen to your voice —  none else matters.”

i love him

[gilgaladswife]

Unfortunate Encounter... or Not?

Tangerine x F!Reader

Warning: smut 18+

It’s an easy task. Retrieve the case then leave the train. No casualties, no witnesses. You’re good at what you do. A professional thief and spy. The person who has hired you is anonymous, but he is paying a great amount of money. That’s all what matters.

You check your outfit one last time, making sure your students clothes are good. It’s a perfect kit, no one notice the students. Once you’re ready, you leave for the train station in Tokyo. You arrive fifteen minutes in advance, so you observe the people around you.

A pair of men with an unconscious young adult catches your attention. Especially the one with the slick brown hair and a moustache. He is wearing a trench coat that hide a very expensive blue suit. He is very handsome. If you weren’t on a mission, you would try your luck.

The train arrives. You tear your gaze away and climb aboard. Once you’ve showed your ticket you go find your seat. A chuckle escapes you as you realize you are in the quiet wagon. Like you’re going to make fuss. You think about how you will find and retrieve the case. It’s a long train and there is a lot of passengers. At least the case as a train sticker on the handle. It will be easier to see.

You look up to see if there’s anyone in the luggage room, the first place you will search. You almost gasp as you see the men of earlier seated two row in front of you. They have taken off their coat. The brown hair man looks devilishly handsome in his blue suit.

You don’t realize you are openly staring until you catch him looking back at you with a smirk. You blush and adjust your sweater before looking away. Focus. You need to focus on your mission. 

Once the train leaves, you get up. The man is now busy talking with the black man at his side. Good. No distractions. You walk to the luggage room and start looking for the briefcase.  

About five minutes in, you find it. With great luck. You take it out, checking to see if anyone is coming and no. Perfect. You open your schoolbag, large enough to fit a briefcase or books and school stuff. Closing the bag and putting it back on your shoulders, you go back to your seat. Now you just have to leave at the next station. You look at your phone to pass the time.

A clear of throat takes your attention away from your phone. You are shocked to see the handsome stranger sitting in the seat in front of yours.

-Can I help you? you ask raising an eyebrow.

-I saw ya staring earlier. Thought ya wanted something and since ya are a beautiful lady who seems smart, I am intrigued. So, did you want something? says the man with a strong and really hot British accent. 

You think fast. He cannot know about the briefcase inside your bag. Something tells you that he is a dangerous man even if he is hot. You say the only thing that comes to mind and that it’s not entirely false.

-To be honest I find you really attractive and want you to fuck me. Hard. 

The man looks at you speechless for a moment, not expecting that blunt answer. Soon his expression switch to something more lustful and you realize this distraction might be good for you after all. 

-Is that so? the man chuckles desire in this voice.

-Yes, I really want it… and something tells me you also want it. you replies noticing the way he is squirming in the seat.

-I would be a fool to say no to a beauty like you. C’mon let’s go somewhere quieter.

You get up, verifying your bag is safe before following him, wetness pooling into your panties at the idea of what’s going to happen. The British man leads you to the bathroom and you look the door behind you. 

In no times he kisses you passionately, backing you up against the wall. You moan against his mouth and your hand flew to his hair. You make out for a bit before pulling away for air. 

-Name’s Tangerine. Figured ya want to know what to scream as I fuck you good. he says starting to unzip your sweater. 

A bell ring inside your head. You know that name.

-Like the fruit? you say breathless acting like you don’t know him.

The name is known by you. Everyone in your field of work know who the Twins are. You hadn’t meet them before and now you can put a face on a name. And if you’re honest, they really don’t look like twins. 

-Yes… like the fruit. Now why don’t you undress for me like a good girl and put your perfect mouth to good use.

You don’t think you have ever undress this fast and get down on your knees. Tangerine check his watch then unbutton his waistcoat. Then he opens his button up to reveal what you guessed was under, smooth skin over rigid muscles. You are now drenched, your hand going up to caress his abs as you start to be impatient. 

Tangerine chuckles at your eagerness. Your eyes are locked with him as you reach for his trousers. Slowly you unzip them and pull them down in the same as his underwear. Your eyes widen at the size of his cock that spring close to your face. Tangerine smirk at your reaction then puts a hand in your hair to encourage you. 

-C’mon love you wanted this. We don’t have much time. 

-My name’s Y/N by the way. So you know what to moan when I make you see stars. you says smirking before putting your mouth to work. 

His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to give him something he would always remember you for, real pleasure. You suck his head, using one hand to pump what wouldn’t fit and the other switching between holding his thighs for balance and caressing his balls.

You make eye contact with him a few times, when you remove his cock with a pop, licking it like a popsicle. His jaw would clench each time, the grip on your hair tightening as he groans in pleasure. Your cunt clench around nothing as you hear him. He makes so much beautiful noises.

-You’re so good at this baby. Fuckin’ hell come here. says Tangerine pulling you up and searing you in a messy kiss.

You moan as he hoist you up, you wrap your legs around his waist, his cock making contact with your bare pussy. You both hiss at the feeling. Tangerine looks you in the eye as he slides a hand down to play with your clit, making sure you’re ready for him. He groans as he feels how wet you are.

-All of this just from sucking my dick? You dirty little whore. 

-Please Tan…you beg so turn on that you will take everything he’ll give you. 

-Please what love? Use your words. Otherwise how am I supposed to give ya what ya want? tease Tangerine.

-Please I need you inside me… 

He inserts two fingers inside your pussy, slowing pumping them. He watches in delight your head throw back in pleasure, moans pouring out of your mouth.

-So good… don’t stop… you breathe in ecstasy.

-Come for me darling. Let go for me. says Tangerine with a slide of his thumb on your clit.

You climax moaning his name loudly, not caring if someone heard you. Tangerine withdraw his fingers, watching you in the eyes as he licks them clean. Arousal goes through you. This is the hottest thing you have ever seen. 

-I think you are more than ready for me now Y/N.

Tangerine grips his cock with one hand, the other keeping you up, align himself then slowly pushes inside your dripping cunt. The both of you moan in unison as he pushes himself to the hilt. He presses his head into your neck, kissing it as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Which you are thankful because he is big.  Once you are okay you pull his hair to kiss him.

-You can move now.

And he did just that. Starting slow, then gaining in speed and strength the more you moan his name. The feeling of his cock against your velvet walls is heavenly, you have never felt like this before. 

Tangerine fucks you hard and fast, like you’ve asked. Your breasts are bouncing with the sheer force of his thrusts. He is captivated by the view and you feel your second orgasm approaching. So does he.

-You gonna come for me again Y/N? he says going faster and looking at you.

-Yes…yes…yes! Fuck Tangerine! You scream his name as white, blinding pleasure crashes over you. 

You clench his cock like a vice, your release triggers his. He spills his seed into you, moaning your name. The most beautiful sound you have ever heard.

-That… that was incredible. The best sex of my life.. you say breathless and sweaty.

-I agree with you. That was amazing. replies Tangerine pulling out with a hiss.

He takes a paper towel to clean the mess between your legs, a gesture you appreciate. As you are putting your clothes back on, reality came back to you. You have a mission to complete and now that you know that the twins are somehow involved, you need to act fast. And that’s what you do.

When Tangerine finishes dressing and look up in the mirror to fix his tie, you hit him hard behind the head. He falls to the floor knocked out.

-Sorry Tan.. mission’s first. You shouldn’t have been here. you say before leaving the bathroom, leaving the assassins unconscious on the floor. 

Tag: @tangerineboss @pretty-little-mind33

First time writing for Tangerine 🍊 hope you guys liked it xx

[wooahaes]

signed, sealed, delivered

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: mentions of reader wearing makeup. food mentions. temporary long distance due to work.

word count: ~1.3k

daisy's notes: imagine sealing em w lil heart shaped stickers tho...

“You should look outside our door.” 

Halfway through doing your makeup for the day, Jeonghan casually spoke up. When you gave him a confused look, he merely smiled at you. He had video-called you from his hotel room as soon as you responded to his messages, apparently relaxing in it after a long day of working with a foreign company. He had his dinner set in front of him, poking through it with the fork they’d given him, as he gave you this knowing look. Even from your bedroom, you could hear the loud knock on your door. You pushed away from your little vanity once you felt presentable enough to face someone, and made your way through the apartment. When you opened the door, Joshua Hong was standing there, waiting for you with this proud smile on his face. 

“Good morning,” he smiled at you. “And,” he pulled a box out from behind him, Jeonghan’s writing on the lid reading to my love. “Happy birthday.” He slapped an extra envelope on top. “That’s from me—I know how you feel about gifts, so,” he nodded toward it one extra time, “it’s just money in there.” 

You slowly accepted it, looking down at it before growing a little more flustered. “How long has he been planning this?”

Joshua just smiled at you. “You look nice, by the way—”

“Oh, shut it,” you rolled your eyes as he snorted to himself. The only part of your face that was done were your eyes—you hadn’t even filled in your eyebrows yet. But Joshua knew he was one of the few people you’d let tease you in any way. But you stepped out, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. 

He bid you farewell soon enough, and you made your way back to your  bedroom after locking back up. You sat back down, setting aside the envelope as you looked at the box. “Hannie?” You didn’t look up, just knowing he still had that proud grin on his face. “What did you leave for me?”

He just rested his head in his hand, admiring you. “You’ll see. Open it.” 

Of course he wouldn’t just tell you. With a quiet sigh, you opened the box, setting the lid beside it as you picked up a note card that sat atop a selection of letters. In short and simple writing, the note card just said “For while I’m too far away.” You picked up one of the envelopes, each with a different date attached to them. They would span the entirety he was away from you now, some of them with different times for you to open them. The first one was marked for lunchtime today, and you looked back at your laptop.

“... Jeonghan?”

“You said you didn’t want any big gifts this year,” he said. “But we always go on dates for our birthdays. So…” He smiled at you again. “I’ll take you out when I come home. Until then, I wrote a lot of notes for you to read since we can’t talk as often right now.” 

Your heart softened at how much he cared for you. The day he told you he’d be away for work during your birthday, he’d held your hand and promised that he’d make it up to you. You had told him that he didn’t need to do anything special—the two of you could simply celebrate it when he came home again. But he kissed your knuckles and had that familiar twinkle in his eyes that told you Jeonghan already had a plan in place. But this? Little notes for you to read while he was gone? It made you a little misty-eyed, which was the worst thing when you were trying to get ready for the day.

Jeonghan had noticed, chuckling to himself. “Don’t cry,” he said, eyes twinkling as he admires you. “You can cry on me when I get back. You can do that thing where you bury your face in my shirt because you get embarrassed over crying—”

“Jeonghan,” you whined, pouting. He knew you too well, and he was always ready to tease you a little.

His gaze softened even further. “That’s my girl.” Then he straightened up, all too aware of how much he’d melted when watching you. “So,” he started, “what are your plans for—”

There was a knock on his door, and you saw Jeonghan turn in his chair. For a moment, he frowned, but he pushed away from his desk, calling out that he was coming. You could hear the door be unlocked, and the sound of Jeonghan conversing with someone before he came back over with a few of his coworkers following after him.

“Sorry, honey,” Jeonghan said as he turned back to you. “We’ve got a presentation tomorrow, so Jihoon wants to go over things—”

“Don’t blame it on me,” Jihoon said off-camera. “We were supposed to meet for dinner.” 

Jeonghan turned to him, face completely stoic. “It’s her birthday. Don’t blame her.”

A moment of silence passed. Jeonghan broke, chuckling as he glanced back at you for just a moment. Jihoon snorted, and then he stepped into frame.

“Right,” he said, giving you a quick, polite bow. “Happy birthday,” he paused, glancing at Jeonghan. “Sorry we’re stealing him from you.” 

“It’s fine,” you said with a hum, watching as Seungkwan came into frame in the background as he tried to set up his laptop. But he’d been stopped, as Mingyu had wrapped his arms around him, smiling into the camera as he waved at you. “We’ll talk later. Bye, Hannie! I love you—”

Jeonghan held up a hand, turning back to the others. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Seungkwan looked up, eyes widening before he realized. He waved to you. “Happy birthday! I hope you have a good day!”

Mingyu squeezed Seungkwan against his chest, jostling him slightly. He, too, waved, “Happy birthday! I’ll cook something for you when we come back!” 

With a giggle, you thanked them both. Jeonghan moved the laptop, angling it so that he was the only one in the frame now. 

“I love you,” he said, “I’ll call you tomorrow. Happy birthday, my angel.” 

The others immediately started to razz him in the background, but he just rolled his eyes before returning his attention to you.

“I’ll text you when I go to bed,” he promised. “Good night!” 

The call ended soon enough, leaving you to finish your makeup. By the time you finished your makeup, getting dressed, and eating a meal, you’d turned your attention back to the box of envelopes. It was a little too early to open the one for lunchtime today, but… It was your present, wasn’t it? You could open it if you wanted. So you plucked it out, sitting down on your bed to open it up. Inside was a note addressed to you in Jeonghan’s handwriting, and you curled up to read through it.

Have you eaten yet? I hope you have. You probably opened this early, knowing you—you get impatient when it comes to things like this. But it’s fine: I know this and I love you anyway.

I hate being away from you on your day. I know you said that you understood and it was fine, but I like getting to see you in the mornings, even if you’re always sleepy.

I don’t want these to be too long, so I’ll try to keep the rest shorter. Happy birthday, my love. I’ll make it all up to you when I’m home again.

You picked up your phone, snapped a picture of it and sent it to Jeonghan with a little heart emoji: I love you, angel. I can’t wait to see you again.

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[moonstruckme]

Could you write like a cute little thing of Siri and reader. Where Siri normally only has one helmet and it’s for the reader because he does their safety before his own and so the reader gets him his own helmet, and has like matching stickers on them or some thing how cute is that!!!!



Thanks for requesting my lovely!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 615 words

“Siri!” You’re waiting by the door when he pulls up on his bike, and Sirius barely has time to put the kickstand down before you’re hopping on behind him. “What have you been doing, we’re going to be late!”

“Take it easy, gorgeous, they’ll wait for you.” He picks the helmet up off his head, twisting around for a kiss. The bike is rumbling beneath you, making it hard to tell if you’re buzzing from the vibrations or the tiny nibble Sirius gives your bottom lip. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way. Of course, I suppose the volunteer of the year needs to dress for the occasion even more than the rest of us common folk.” 

You blush, wrapping your arms around Sirius’ waist and using the proximity as an excuse to hide your face in the back of his shoulder. You did put some extra time into looking nice tonight, and it’s sweet of Sirius to notice. The charity you volunteer for is throwing a gala, and they’ve asked you to come receive an award for volunteer of the year. It’s less of a big deal than it sounds—the gala and the award both—but Sirius hasn’t let it go since you asked him to be your plus one, and you know he’s going to be insufferable with smug praise all night. 

“They’ll probably give it to someone else if we’re really late,” you say into the material of his dress shirt.

“Alright, alright.” He rolls his eyes, turning around and encouraging your head back so he can plop his helmet over your head. “Let’s go, baby.” 

“Oh, wait!” You grab the helmet, intending to tug it off. Sirius’ hands cover your own before you can move it. 

“Don’t,” he says, and he’d be menacing if he weren’t so himself. He thinks you’re about to go through the same argument you always do, him insisting you wear the only helmet and you trying to force it back upon him, but Sirius always gets his way in the end. We’re not going anywhere, he’ll tell you, unless that thing is on your head the entire time. And I swear to god, baby, if I catch you trying to take it off I will pull this thing over. “You said you wanted to get there, and this is only going to slow us down,” he reasons now. “Plus, your hair looks too good to subject to the wind.” 

“No, wait, I just forgot something,” you insist, swinging a leg over the bike. Only then does Sirius let you take the helmet off, and even so with narrowed eyes. “Two seconds.” 

You run back inside, finding the helmet where you’d set it by the door. You’d been so anxious about Sirius’ tardiness, you’d totally missed it there on your way out. Sirius’ eyebrows go up when you come back out with it in your hands, just before a smile spreads like a slow sunrise across his face. 

“That for me, sweet thing?”

“Yup.” Your grin catches with his as you pass it to him. “You like it?”

Sirius turns it around in his hands, admiring the stickers you’ve applied all around it. “It’s gorgeous.” He sets it on his lap and brings one hand to your face, pulling you down so he can kiss your cheek. “Thanks, honey. I just feel bad for you now, yours isn’t nearly as cool.” 

“I saved the sticker packets,” you say, swinging your leg back over the bike and settling the helmet on your head satisfiedly. “I can do this one after I get home.” 

“Perfect.” Sirius puts his new helmet on, bumping it against yours affectionately. “Alright, hold onto me.” 

[rae-writes]

familiars

Mammon, Satan, Asmo || 0.8k wc || crack post [to make up for all the angst recently] ft. menace mc (Tannie's is my favorite bc that's literally me)

Mammon

The second born was on his way to Lucifer’s office again when he saw you plopped on the common room floor

You had tons of materials surrounding you : scissors, needles, thread, fabric, small stickers— even glitter glue! 

Mammon didn’t have the time to stop and ask why, he just chalked it up to his little human just doing their weird little human things

After he was dismissed from Lucifer’s office (and after a 3 fucking hour long lecture), he made his way back to the common room, but you were gone

In your place was a yellow sticky note that read “Hey Mammon! Don’t freak out, I just went outside for a bit <3” 

And that made him freak out even more

Because it was raining like all fuck out there

So he scrambles to the entrance hall and throws open the front door, ready to yell, when he just stops 

You’re crouched down on the steps with an umbrella over you while his crow familiars hop around your feet

They’re all decked out in tiny rain hats, rain coats, and some of his older ones even have small rain boots

Currently, you’re putting a glittery gold lookin set on Mammon’s youngest crow and the demon’s heart swells

The crows notice him fairly quickly and begin to jump around even more, making you look back and beam 

“Hi Mamoney! Alright little fella, you’re all good to go now! Go say hi to Mammon!” 

He could cry. Literally sob at how fucking cute this is

“Aw, guys! Look at ya!” He pets them over their hats, grinnin’ ear to ear, “Mc. You didn’t tell me you wanted to parent the kids with me.” 

You laughed, making him grin even more. “You mentioned them getting cold when they got rained on so I figured I’d help out! Don’t they just look so cute?!” 

Mammon’s eyes were practically heart shaped, “y-yeah…”

(he absolutely gets you and him a rain set so you can all go out in them like a big family) 

(and yes his brothers made fun of him for it and no he didn’t care— especially not when you slapped them with your wet rain hat)

Satan 

You and Satan were out on a simple walk. A relaxing, uneventful walk

That is until you get approached by a fucking unicorn

You don’t know what the hell to do or say- you just kinda stand there staring for a minute while Satan pets his uh…friend. He chuckles at your response, raising an eyebrow when you hold a single finger up

“Someone either slipped me some severe drugs or you’re just a stone cold traitor who did not tell me he was bffs with this gorgeous creature. Both of which I will take offense to.” 

“I deeply apologize for my transgressions, my love.” 

You glanced at the unicorn with a look of ‘can you fucking believe this guy’ before raising a hand, “May I?” 

You received a neigh, to which you leaned in closer and stroked up its nose, where you then received a delighted huff 

“I would die for you.” 

Satan snorted, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. His laughter only got louder when his familiar looked at him with the equivalent expression of ‘how dare you keep this human from me’ 

“Yes, yes, I should’ve introduced you two sooner. Are we done pouting now?” 

You and the unicorn looked at eachother. Then at Satan. Then back to each other. “No.”

He smiled, still amused, “then how about a ride through town? I’ll walk beside you.”

“Like the peasant you are. Alright- onward, Uni! Let’s go kick a guy in the gut.”

...perhaps Satan had been leaving you alone with Belphie for too long

Asmo 

For once (though not for long), the House of Lamentation was peacefully quiet

Most of them were doing their own thing in the common room, existing without a hitch beside each other— a perfect day, in Lucifer’s opinion 

“EEEEKKK!”

The sound was extremely high pitched and cracked, but it was written off as ‘just Mammon doing something stupid again’ 

Yeah…until he walked through the door asking what the hell that noise was. Then they all did a headcount- you were the only one not present 

Asmo turned into the world’s biggest track star in that moment and made his way to you first, finding you floating in mid air at the entrance hall

And on the floor was a sleek black scorpion just…sitting there

“Hon…don’t tell me you’re scared of my gorgeous little baby?!” 

You stared at him like he was fucking nuts— which you thought so in that moment. “I’m sorry, I was a bit too focused on the stINGER!” 

“He doesn’t sting anyone unless I tell him too, Hon, no worries!” 

…’no worries’ he says, as if the creepy thing wasn’t among the most dangerous animals to humans. And a human, you were 

In fairness, the scorpion was not so horrible looking. It’s tail faded into a hot pink like Azzy’s horns and it’s feet(?) we’re tipped with gold. And it had a faint sparkly coat. Of course. 

“Okay…I can deal with this…I guess he is..kind of..pretty..?” 

“Indeed he is! I shine him myself! You wanna hold him?” 

“No, that’s alrig— STOP BRINGING IT CLOSER!”

[ultrone]

𓂃  ⊹ jackielot dating deaf!reader 🧏🏻‍♀️

they've been putting in a lot of effort to learn sign language for you. lottie even convinced her parents to hire a private tutor. initially, you thought it was unnecessary, as you could teach them yourself. however, they insisted, wanting to learn it faster and properly.

whenever they learn a new phrase or word, they eagerly rush to you to show you. and it’s painfully obvious how jackie subtly directs your conversations to "casually" drop the new sign she's learned 😭😭 you think it's cute though, so you refrain from teasing her about it.

besides sign language, the three of you have developed a silent language to communicate more effectively. it includes gentle taps, specific gestures, or a certain number of squeezes. it's become so intuitive that even your girlfriends use these signals between themselves, sometimes even when you're not around, without realizing it.

they're having a bit too much fun with the sign language tho, especially during exams. "i'm not helping you cheat, jackie," you discreetly signed back at her, being cautious so the teacher wouldn't notice. jackie pouted at you but couldn't hide her silly smile.

they’re also practically forcing the other yellowjackets to learn it as well. while some of them are lazier or barely friends with you, they've managed to get all of them to learn at least ten basic words to communicate with you, even if it's just to say hi.

so far, shauna is the most advanced, likely because she spends a lot of time with jackie. you suspect your girlfriend probably put up a fight to ensure shauna learned this much. nevertheless, you're grateful because now you can have intermediate conversations with her, and you have to admit that sometimes it's nice to sign with someone other than your girlfriends.

jackie's love language is physical touch, which makes her incredibly content in your relationship. you often depend on her touch or gestures for communication when you can't rely on lip-reading or hand signals, and jackie is more than happy to comply.

on the other hand, lottie leans more towards words of affirmation, but this hasn't posed any challenges in your relationship. she consistently expresses her affection through little notes and messages, even jotting down love notes and doodles in your school notebooks.

once, you woke up and found your hearing aids were not on your bedside table. turning to jackie, who was peacefully sleeping next to you, you noticed them sitting on her bedside table instead. that's weird, you thought, not recalling leaving them there. as you picked them up, you realized jackie had adorned them with cute little stickers.

they’re very patient with you, never getting annoyed or frustrated when you ask them to say things again or speak more clearly for you to read their lips.

when watching a movie together, they always ensure the subtitles are on, so you don't have to strain to read everyone's lips all the time.

jackie has this habit of telling you that she loves you by tracing the letters "I L Y" in the palm of your hand with her index finger, giving you a soft kiss afterwards and fidgeting with your fingers.

lottie always keeps her arms protectively around you, whether it's draped over your shoulders or wrapped around your waist. when she wants to get your attention, she softly squeezes her hand around you.

when you're feeling stressed, she often soothes you by gently stroking your eyebrows with her fingers in a repetitive motion until you drift off to sleep.

they're frequently curious about your perspective and thoughts on certain things, recognizing that your experiences might differ from theirs. they often ask you how you imagine certain things would sound, sometimes out of genuine curiosity and other times playfully teasing you.

“who do you think has a sexier voice? and don’t lie just so that lotts doesn’t get upset,” jackie quipped as lottie rolled her eyes.

they're incredibly protective of you, never allowing anyone to mock or disrespect you in any way. not that anyone dares to, considering their popularity in school as members of the yellowjackets.

most of the time, you fall asleep by lying on top of either one of them, resting against their chest, or in any position that lets you lay your ear against their heart, so you can feel its steady beat.

they're constantly debating whose turn it is to cuddle you. so now, they take turns each night. while you lie on one's chest, the other cuddles you from behind, letting you feel her gentle heartbeat against your back.