#he goes on a trip for just a few weeks and the rest of the family straight up forgets that Fanny needs to exercise or just. go outside
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wastedwastelandme · 2 months ago
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I'm 50 pages in to Mansfield Park for the first time and in terms of Fanny Price's general health, education and well-being getting looked after, if anything at all happens to Edmund she is absolutely FUCKED
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devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 3 months ago
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BabyDaddy! Jason Todd
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BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who almost never picks up your daughter on time for their weekends together, but always promises to make it up with Daddy-Daughter dates, mostly to the mall or teaparties at home.
"Daddy got busy this weekend, pretty girl... But I promise we can have a tea party with Mr. Dino as soon as I see you, alright?"
That was almost always his excuse when you'd call and put your little girl on the line with him.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who almost never has child support in on time, even though it's a relatively low amount since you decided to have a bit of mercy on him in court.
"Look, I'll get it to you as soon as I can, doll. Just got a little sidetracked this week with a few jobs."
The same thing he always said when the $80 for the week was due. But you always caved and gave him a few extra days, even if you knew it was because he blew it on new gear for his patrols and missions.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who won't let your daughter come over to his apartment right after a mission because he has to lay low and doesn't want to put her in danger.
"Daddy went on a last minute trip, baby girl... I promise he'll take you the next time he goes somewhere, okay?"
The same promise you always made when she gave you those doe eyes and got teary over missing Jason after a long mission
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you have to plan sleepovers with because they almost always happen to end up on one of his weekends.
"As long as she's happy, it's fine. Can I pick her up on Monday? I can ask B for the night off and drop her off at daycare in the morning."
Jason tries his hardest not to show just how hurt he is whenever his daughter and you have to cancel plans on him, but you see right through it every time.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you invite over for a couple of drinks on the nights your gorgeous girl is out for a sleepover at a friend's or your family's.
"You didn't have to invite me over, y'know... I'm fine on my own, really. But I appreciate it."
His famous last words before the both of you end up tipsy and handsy with eachother for the rest of the night.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you're not really sure just how you ended up underneath after only a few drinks and a friendly chat.
"Look at how that tight pussy pulls me in... Almost like you're begging for another baby. That what you want, gorgeous? Me to fill you with another one of my babies?"
He still watches you take a Plan B the next morning, though. Neither of you can handle another child just yet, especially while just hooking up after months of minimal contact.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who falls for you all over again after a few of those nights filled with drinking and the sound of skin on skin.
"Thanks for inviting me over, sweetheart... I'm sorry if I overstayed my welcome."
Of course he didn't. You knew exactly what would happen as soon as your daughter asked to go to a sleepover, and you didn't regret it one bit.
Maybe Jason wasn't so bad, after all.
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Masterlist
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loveanddeepdick · 3 months ago
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obsessed!geto suguru x f!reader
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cw & notes: ok this might NOT be everyone’s cup of tea if you’re a 100% independent girlboss femdom femininomenon, A LOT OF possessiveness, solved misunderstandings, dubcon, oral sex, borderline yandere, no curse au + geto works at jjk high but it’s not jjk high ykwim hbdjsh and ur close with his students
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
obsessed!geto who watches your every move, looks at every text message notification you get, every person you wave to. of course, he isn’t looking for any evidence that you’re cheating, no! he knows you’d never.
you two are cuddling on the couch together, laying on his lap with your head nestled under his chin and you legs draped over while he rested his cheek on your head. he’s in the middle of rubbing your back and watching whatever you had on your phone when he sees texts you got from a name he’s never seen before.
higuruma
hey, i hope this is the right number
i got ur stuff, let’s meet when your husband goes to work, yeah?
geto was silent for a few seconds before subtly tightening his grip on you
“who’s that, angel?”, geto almost seethed, he was trying his best not to make it sound like he was upset but it tipped him the fuck off.
‘who the fuck is that? who is she talking to?’
you only smiled, looking back at geto.
“it’s yuji’s lawyer friend, remember?”, you rested your head in the crook of his neck, somehow oblivious to the change in his demeanor.
“yuji.. ah, yuji’s lawyer friend. and you’re meeting with him why? and when i go to work—honey what’s going on?”
“geto..” you lifted you head, turning to him and slightly frowning, “it’s so he can come to meet with me and drop off stuff for yuji while he’s gone for a school trip”
“mm.. i’m gonna come with you, pretty girl..” he attacked your face with kisses as u giggle and try to dodge them.
“sugu!! you’re so protective over me! it’s not like im a baby, i’m not gonna get kidnapped” you huffed, lightly slapping his bicep. geto only hummed and enveloped his lips in yours.
the next day, poor higuruma couldn’t help but nervously chuckle as geto silently stood behind you as he dropped off yuji’s stuff.
obsessed!geto who knows all your needs. all of them.
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
“sugu! i told you im not hungry right now” you whine as he brings in two bags of takeout. ten minutes later, suguru is feeding you as you scroll on your phone. smiling as he knew that at the end of the day, he knew your needs better than you did.
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
“sugu i really wanna go to the beach next week, let’s go pleasseee?”
“mm-mm, doll, your period starts in three days and the day we go is when you feel pain the most. so, no, we’re not going and you’ll thank me later”
you frowned and gave him the silent treatment which only lasted for two hours . three days later, you did get your period and the day that the beach was planned, geto was at the foot of your bed, massaging your feet as he turned your heating pad up, his eyebrows furrowed as he hated the sight of you in pain
“sugu.. i love you”, you groan as he relieved your pain little by little.
“‘love you too, pumpkin”
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
“fuck, angel.. yeah.. i like you better when you’re not so fucking bratty and i can hear my dick inside you instead of that little mouth of yours always running”
he knew you were horny. he slipped his cock into your mouth as a means to shut your bratty little mouth up. you’d been teasing him for hours and he just had enough after he came home from a long day. you’d sent him dirty text after text, lingerie pics to nudes, even videos of you playing with yourself
he just couldn’t help but pin you down on the couch just as you got home! your bratty little mouth protesting about him being so whipped for your pussy but he shuts you up with your favorite treat!
he’d used your mouth, his hands shoved in your hair as he moaned from the sigh of your teary eyes.
“fuuuck, i’m close, angel. you want a treat for finally being a good girl? open up that throat of yours baby”
obsessed!geto who always does a background check of everyone you know. he has to make sure his soon-to-be wife doesn’t have any dangerous people in her life or—god forbid—, anyone with even an ounce of a crush on her!
after he’s doing cutting off the people he doesn’t like in your life (with reason of course! he knows what’s best for you <3), he immediately goes off to you, surprising you with a smack of your ass or a rough kiss on the lips, whatever he sees first.
if you’re not there though, he’ll jack off to all the photos he takes of you. sometimes he takes them in secret, sometimes he takes them in brough daylight. he doesn’t have to hide it anymore now that you’re dating but he never stopped. he loves you in all forms and he loves the effect you have on his cock. he’ll have his boney hand wrapped around it, sliding up and down as he whimpers your name.
“you’re so.. so fucking sexy, mm..mmphf!”
just geto who’s obsssed with you >.<
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callmeagardengnome · 5 days ago
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✗ sugar and sin ✗ | PARK SEONGHWA
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pairings  ✃  mafia! seonghwa x fem! reader
genre  ✃  mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN
synopsis  ✃  
seonghwa goes above and beyond to eliminate his targets: going undercover in places they go to most. when you happen to spend your time in a secluded bakery, seonghwa decides to bake your treats with doses of poison - yet somehow, you keep surviving.
in which you thought you made a new friend in your local bakery, when in reality - your ‘baker’ keeps mistaking laxatives for poison.
w.c  ✃ 9.1k
c.w  ✃ dark themes, some desc of gore, poison, drink-spiking, kiss scene but no smut, very very slight yandere behaviour, cursing, reader + seonghwa are in their 20s (not too relevant to plot), reader wants to be an architect.
author’s note: ngl, this story ended up a little more wholesome than i anticipated but oh well. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!
not proofread!
masterlist
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it was official. you were a walking, unkillable creature sent to test seonghwa’s patience. 
you had to be at this point. that was the sixth poisoned-cream puff he’d given you this week and you were still talking on the phone about some guy you met at work. 
seonghwa’s fingers curled around the register, his knuckles turning white. when was the last time it took him this long to kill someone? five years ago?
time flies by fast - and yet it’s going painfully slow to take. you. out. 
“oh my god, no way-“ you laughed suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. 
seonghwa sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. he turned around and headed for the kitchen. if you weren’t going to die quickly, the least he could do was distract himself. 
“back to baking,” he muttered through clenched teeth. 
1 MONTH AGO - SIGHTSEEING
the early morning was cool, damp and filled with the scent of rain. the light drizzle from the grey sky above pattered against the balcony railing as birds chirped louder than the traffic below.
seonghwa sat on the metal chair, placing his steaming cup of tea onto the small table next to him. 
the balcony door slid open. 
a yawn was heard from behind him. “are you people-watching again?” hongjoong asked, rubbing his eyes. 
seonghwa didn’t look back, only nodding in response.
“you’re on food duty now, remember?” hongjoong stepped onto the balcony, sitting on the chair beside his friend. “you don’t need to look for targets..”
seonghwa leaned forward, mumbling, “is it wrong to have hobbies?” 
the morning rush was in full swing - people running with umbrellas over their heads, cars splashing through puddles and delivery workers speeding on bikes. it was oddly satisfying to watch, especially when you weren’t a part of any of it.
hongjoong rested his chin on his hand. “i don’t pay you to kill anymore. i hope you know this.”
“yeah, yeah,” seonghwa said absentmindedly, like he’d done many times before - though something caught his attention.
his eyes narrowed, focusing on a girl - must be in her early 20s, hurrying down the sidewalk with a large stack of papers in her arms. her steps were rushed, nearly bumping into the people ahead of her.
and then it happened.
she tripped over her own foot, causing her to stumble forward. the papers flew out of her grasp, scattering onto the crowded pavement. she dropped to her knees, scurrying to gather them.
but before she could, a gust of wind swept most of them down the street.
seonghwa got up from his chair abruptly, his tea long forgotten.
hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “did you see something?”
seonghwa didn’t answer. his attention was fixed on you, your hands moving as fast as possible to salvage the remaining papers. just as you managed to grab a few, a van sped through a nearby puddle, splashing you from head to toe.
you froze, shivering. and to make things worse, the light rain turned into a heavy downpour. “...fuck!”
seonghwa’s eyes lit up in fascination. 
he’d never seen someone as unlucky, unfortunate and pathetic as you in all of his years. 
you were perfect.
“seonghwa-?”
a slow, almost predatory smirk spread across seonghwa’s lips. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you - the defeated and helpless girl that stood frozen on the pavement, completely drenched. 
“i found my target.”
2 WEEKS AGO - IT’S CALLED EMPLOYMENT 
the smell of fresh bread and melted butter greeted you as you pushed the bakery door open, the small bell jingling. 
“ah ‘____’!” the old baker, mrs earl, said with a smile. “it’s good to see you again.”
you gave her a bright grin. “i brought you the new crossword,” you placed a folded newspaper on the counter.
“oh honey, you’re an angel,” she thanked.
you waved off the praise, already making your way to the display case. you grabbed your free muffin (it wasn’t technically free, but mrs earl adored you enough to turn a blind eye) and took a bite.
as you ate, she wiped her hands with a dishcloth. “you know, a boy came in today. said he wanted a job.”
you raised an eyebrow. “someone applied?” 
“mhm,” she nodded, her smile widening. “i was quite shocked, he’s very young- around your age.”
“..huh,” you said, unsure of how to respond. it was hard to imagine someone else your age showing interest in such a bakery.
mrs earl’s eyes twinkled as she giggled, “he was such a gentleman, too. handsome, if i may add.”
you grinned. “mrs earl, are you into him?”
she laughed heartily. “of course not! i still have my boys at the country club..”
“..anyways,” she continued, slightly softer. “with him around, i don’t need to come in anymore.”
“...really?”
she nodded firmly. “why not? i think he’s capable enough to manage things while i go on vacation.”
“..if you say so,” you replied, a little doubtful. 
you’ve grown so attached to mrs earl that the idea of someone else stepping in felt.. strange. even then, you quickly pushed those thoughts away. you weren’t going to stop her from having her well-deserved break.
but little did you know - across the street, seonghwa sat on a weathered bench, his eyes following you. 
you were an open book, he realised. your patterns were consistent, your routine almost boring in its predictability. lunch breaks at the bakery. post-work visits for a chat and a muffin. your world revolved around this tiny little bakery that it made you so so easy to track.
it was perfect.
and now all he had to do was wait.
1 WEEK AGO - HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZY
holy shit. 
mrs earl wasn’t kidding when she said the new hire was handsome.
a man stood behind the counter, arranging pastries with meticulous care. his hair fell perfectly, right out of a shampoo commercial, while his skin looked impossibly flawless and clean. 
“...wow,” you breathed out before you could stop yourself.
the man turned, his sharp features softened by a slight tilt of his head. 
you blinked rapidly, scrambling to recover. “i mean- hi!” you blurted with a nervous laugh. “i’m ‘____’, i’m a regular here,” you stuck your hand out.
it took a second before he shook your hand, giving you a small, polite smile. “mrs earl told me about you.”
your rubbed the back of your neck. “good things i hope..” you chuckled, earning a nod. 
“you’re..” you looked down, squinting to read the name tag pinned neatly to his apron. “seonghwa..?”
“correct.”
as seonghwa moved to the display case, you couldn’t help but watch him. everything about him was so polished, so graceful - it was like he belonged in the movies. 
when you saw the row of pastries he was arranging, you raised an eyebrow. that’s different. 
he glanced at you. “sorry, i don’t make muffins as good as mrs earl,” he admitted sheepishly. “but i think my cream puffs are up there.”
you stared at the tray of golden, perfectly piped pastries, your mouth watering. “c-can i take one?”
his lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes darkening slightly. “of course.”
PRESENT - PLOT ARMOUR GOES CRAZYY
outside, the world bustled with its usual chaos, but inside the bakery? everything felt calm - too calm for seonghwa, whose patience was wearing dangerously thin.
from behind the counter, he had an excellent view of you. you chatted animatedly on the phone, the sunlight streaming in making you look annoyingly serene for someone who shouldn’t be here. 
“girl- the guy at my office is cutee,” you said as you stirred the remnants of your coffee.
seonghwa’s jaw tightened. the coffee you were sipping had enough poison to kill a sumo wrestler. you should’ve been dead on the floor by now.
so how the hell were you still alive?
blissfully unaware of his glare, you laughed at something your friend said. “are you crazy? why should i make the first move?”
when he first saw you, seonghwa thought you’d be his easiest target yet. he almost pitied you. your sheer unluckiness practically screamed death. 
yet here you were, as if life itself decided to mock him.
as you hung up the call, you stood up and strolled to the counter, rummaging through your bag. “how much do i owe you?”
seonghwa shook his head, sighing. “it’s on the house,” he said. 
you paused, slipping your phone into your pocket. “seonghwa, you really need to stop giving me free food,” you pulled out a ten-dollar bill.
“but i want to,” he shrugged. 
you studied him for a moment, tilting your head. “then can i get another coffee to-go, please?”
his eye twitched.
it was such an harmless request, something seemingly so simple. yet it felt like an insult to his entire career.
still, seonghwa forced a smile, taking the cash. “of course.”
turning to the coffee pot, he poured another cup. when you looked away to check your phone, he sprinkled a little extra poison into the drink - just to be sure.
“thank you so much,” your face lit up as you took the cup from him. “you’re a lifesaver.”
the irony hit him like a truck, but he simply nodded.
as you turned to leave, he stared at the coffee pot, his mind spinning.
how? how?
you were unkillable. immune. an anomaly wrapped in plot armour so thick and absurd it made his chest ache with something he couldn’t name. 
obsession, frustration, fascination - it all blurred together into one singular thought:
he needed stronger poison.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“..helloo?” a hand waved in front of seonghwa, snapping him out of his thoughts.
seonghwa blinked, turning to find wooyoung standing beside him, wooden spoon in hand, his apron splattered in sauces. 
“you’re sanding the plate,” wooyoung smirked before turning back to the bubbling pot on the stove. 
the sound of running water filled the hideout’s small kitchen, together with the clanging of pots and pans. seonghwa stood over the sink, yellow rubber gloves on his hands as he washed the dishes.
seonghwa looked down - and to his horror, he’d been scrubbing the same spot on the plate for who knows how long. a noticeable mark formed, the glaze nearly wearing off. 
wooyoung glanced over his shoulder. “you okay?”
“yeah,” seonghwa replied.
a short silence followed before wooyoung spoke up again. “…you still haven’t killed that girl.”
seonghwa rolled his eyes, nearly breaking the ceramic in his hands. “don’t remind me. she’s invincible.”
“invincible?” wooyoung barked out a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “to you?”
seonghwa’s lips pressed into a thin line, sighing. the memory of the coffee earlier was still fresh in his mind. “my poison doesn’t work on her.”
wooyoung paused. “we have poison?”
“yeah,” seonghwa muttered, rinsing the plate and setting it on the drying rack. “the blue ones in the cupboard.”
wooyoung’s face shifted slowly from confusion, to realisation, to then poorly concealed amusement.
“seonghwa..” he began carefully, facing him. “you know those are laxatives, right..?”
the sponge in seonghwa’s hand nearly slipped into the soapy water. “..what?”
“they’re laxatives,” wooyoung repeated. “i mean, they do look the same, but they’re laxatives.” 
seonghwa stared at him. “those are the only ones left- what happened to my poison?”
“we uh-” wooyoung hesitated, shifting on his feet. “we crushed it up and made paint..”
the air in the kitchen turned deathly still.
“you what?”
“i thought no one used it-!”
“i use it-! who makes paint with pills?” seonghwa snapped, his hands gripping the edges of the sink. he exhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm. “now i have to get more from that dealer.”
“uhh..” wooyoung cringed.
seonghwa turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “don’t tell me..”
wooyoung gulped, nodding slowly. “...san killed him.” 
WEEK 3 - TOUCH GRASS
the sound of your best friend’s voice echoed from your phone as you sat by the window, nibbling on the cream puff seonghwa gave you - again.
“i know this is TMI,” you said quietly. “but i’ve been shitting a lot lately. i don’t know if it's my period or lactose intolerance acting up.”
as you took another bite, the cream puff melted in your mouth, its sweetness making you temporarily forget about your bowel issues. 
rejecting it felt stupid - it was free. sure, it was weird that seonghwa kept giving you free food, but mrs earl trusted him, so why shouldn’t you?
still, you couldn’t quite figure him out. the man had a habit of glaring at you from across the bakery. were you that pretty? yes. but his glares didn’t feel like he was admiring you. they leaned more towards… anger.
your friend on the other end of the call burst out laughing - and you joined her for a moment. but before your friend could reply, your phone screen went black. 
“ugh, seriously?” you grumbled, tapping the screen repeatedly. with an annoyed sigh, you stuffed the dead phone into your bag.
with nothing else to do, your attention shifted. your eyes eventually landed on seonghwa, who was watching you with a blank face. 
it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him, right? after all, you see him everyday - and since your phone died, maybe it’s finally time to get some real human interaction in.
you gave him a wide smile. “hey, seonghwa.”
he blinked, visibly startled. “i uh-”
“-why don’t you sit with me?” you asked. “you’re not busy, are you?” 
for a moment, he seemed frozen. but somehow, you managed to convince him to sit across from you.
“so...” you began. “how are you?”
“good.”
you blinked. this wasn’t the riveting conversation you were hoping for.
unfazed, you continued. “how’s work been? stressful?”
he exhaled softly, shaking his head. “it’s fine. how about you? how’s work?”
“it’s alright,” you shrugged. “it’s gotten better since i started coming here. the vending machines at work are always broken.”
he nodded, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “yeah- it’s even more convenient since it’s walking distance, right?”
you paused. 
“...how do you know that?”
seonghwa’s fingers froze mid-tap. 
“mrs earl,” he said finally. “she said a lot of her regulars work in the area.”
“oh, that makes sense,” you said, your suspicions fading quickly. you glanced out the window, your face softening. “i miss her..”
seonghwa let out a quiet sigh of relief, nodding as though he agreed with you.
but inside, his mind was screaming. that was way too close. 
focus.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you kicked your shoes and slumped onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. the day had been.. something. your chat with seonghwa was pretty awkward, but more than anything, it made you miss mrs earl.
reaching for your phone, you dialed her number.
“‘____’! my favourite customer,” she greeted cheerfully, the background noise filled with chatter and clinking glasses.
“mrs earl!” you replied. “how are you? are the boys at your country club treating you well?”
“oh, you know how they are,” she giggled. “trying to impress me with golf and fancy dinners. it’s nice to relax for a change.”
you chuckled, sinking deeper into the couch. “that sounds perfect. you deserve it.”
the conversation flowed easily unlike the one earlier. you updated her on the usual - work and office gossip. but eventually, the topic drifted to the bakery.
“i hope the new boy hasn’t burned the place down,” mrs earl began.
“he’s actually a pretty good baker,” you said. “his cream puffs are unreal-”
you paused for a moment before you added. “though i have to say, they make my stomach hurt whenever i eat them.”
the line went quiet.
“...please elaborate,” mrs earl chuckled softly.
“i mean- i don’t know,” you shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “after i eat his pastries, my trips to the toilet are… traumatic.” you let out a small laugh. “but they’re so tasty, it’s worth the lactose intolerance.”
another silence followed, longer this time. you frowned slightly, shifting on the couch. 
“mrs earl?”
her voice finally came through, slower this time. “that’s.. impossible, my dear.”
“what do you mean?” you asked, sitting a little straighter.
“well,” she began carefully. “the bakery strictly uses oat milk. we don’t use any dairy products in our pastries.”
“...what?”
“the cream, the milk- everything is plant-based,” she continued. “it’s been that way for years. didn’t i tell you that when you first came in?”
you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.
mrs earl’s voice broke the silence again. “it could be something else. you’ve been stressed, haven’t you?”
“yeah..” you replied automatically, though your thoughts were far from the conversation.
“take care of yourself, honey,” she said gently. “i have to go, but call me again soon, okay?”
you nodded. “okay.. bye, mrs earl.”
“stay well, ‘____’.”
the call ended, leaving you sitting on the couch, phone in hand. for a long moment, you stared at the screen, her voice echoing in your head. 
the bakery strictly uses oat milk.
MONTH 1 - I WAS SPACING OUT
you sat at your regular table by the window, flipping through your notebook while sipping on your coffee.
you tapped your pencil against the table. yes, ‘traumatic’ was probably an exaggeration for your bathroom trips - but if there was no dairy in seonghwa’s cream puffs, then what was messing with your stomach?
you quickly shook your head, a sigh escaping your lips. ‘too weird to think about,’ you thought to yourself. whatever it was, the food was worth it.
you returned back to sketching, taking out your ruler to make straight lines. but as you drew, you couldn’t help but feel a certain someone’s eyes on you. 
“you’re staring again,” you said without looking up. 
a long pause settled over the bakery before you heard a, “..no, i wasn’t.”
you glanced up, a smile tugging at your lips. “wanna see what i’m working on?” 
and that was how seonghwa found himself unusually close to you, sitting beside you as you showed him your sketches - clean lines forming buildings, bridges and intricate floor plans. 
“you like drawing?” he asked.
“yeah,” you nodded, flipping to another page. “i wanted to be an architect.” 
seonghwa’s brow furrowed slightly. “then why aren’t you doing it?” 
you let out a laugh. “because i’m broke,” you said simply. “i’d rather work in an office than take out student loans.” 
you flipped through more sketches - some labelled with small notes in the margins while others had more detailed calculations. “it’s just a little hobby of mine.”
seonghwa’s eyes darted between you and the notebook. “this doesn’t look like a hobby,” he muttered.
you raised an eyebrow. “what does it look like then?”
“it looks like something you’re serious about.” 
you paused, blinking at him before leaning closer. “i’m serious about a lot of things, seonghwa- but that doesn’t mean i make a career out of them.”
the silence between you stretched as you flipped through the pages. the energy shifted to something you couldn’t quite explain - and as you tilted the notebook to show him a certain sketch, you realised that his eyes weren’t even on the paper anymore, they were on you. 
you sighed, closing the notebook. as you slipped it into your bag, you noticed how his eyes were still following you, sharp yet strangely soft with concern.
“don’t worry-” you said, smoothing out your clothes. “i’m perfectly content with where i am now.”
“are you?” he asked.
you met his eyes for a moment longer than usual. “yep,” you finished the last sip of your coffee. “how could i not be? free cream puffs and all, right?”
seonghwa didn’t respond.
“thanks for looking at my sketches,” you smiled, turning away. “hope i didn’t bother you.”
as he watched you walk out the door, he let out a slow sigh he didn’t realise he was holding, running a hand through his hair.
he stared up at the ceiling, leaning back into the chair. and for the first time in a long time, seonghwa felt sympathy. 
MONTH 2 - FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC 
over the past few weeks, you developed the habit of waving seonghwa over to join you whenever you stopped by the bakery. what started as polite small talk turned into embarrassing work stories you had.
this afternoon was no different. you sat across from him, coffee in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other, complaining about your friends’ latest questionable decision.
“yeah, she doesn’t listen to me,” you took a bite out of the cookie. “like- why fuck him if you hate him, y’know?”
behind his usual composed self, you caught the faintest twitch of seonghwa’s lips, followed by a sound so soft you almost missed it - a low chuckle.
you froze mid-bite. “did you just.. laugh?”
seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “yeah..?”
you leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement. “i’ve never seen you laugh before.”
“i’m sure you have,” he blinked.
“no, i would’ve remembered it,” you shook your head, grinning. “i like it.”
seonghwa choked, caught off guard. before he could even respond or process what you said, his phone buzzed in his apron pocket. he glanced at the screen and frowned.
“excuse me,” he said, heading to the small kitchen in the bakery, leaving you slightly confused.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
seonghwa pressed the phone to his ear. “what?” he asked.
“i got your poison ready,” san’s voice came through.
seonghwa nearly dropped his phone, swallowing the lump in his throat. “...really?”
“yeah- you wanted it extra strong, right?” san continued. “it took some tweaking, but it’s ready to go.”
the baker’s eyes darted to the half-open kitchen door. he could almost picture you sitting on the other side of it. “right… good.”
this was it. no more laxatives, no more delays.
it’s real now.
the thought of finishing the job left a strange knot in his chest - not dread exactly, but something close to it.
he wasn’t supposed to feel this way - no, he’s never felt this way. his work had always been detached. he never tried to make connections outside of the world of crime, didn’t deal with people who weren’t tied to his web of blood.
not until you came along.
you talked to him like he was.. normal. like he was a regular guy in a regular bakery.
he was finally seen as a person, not a killer. 
it was refreshing. 
“hello?” san’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.
“i uh-“ seonghwa cleared his throat, realising that he was silent for too long. “just leave the poison on my desk. i’ll get it later.
“sure,” san replied before adding, “but don’t overthink it, okay? just get it done.”
seonghwa hung up, staring at his phone for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket.
just get it done.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
from your seat, you only caught bits and pieces of seonghwa’s call. you didn’t mean to listen in, but your ears got carried away. 
his voice was low and hard to hear, muffled by the thin walls of the bakery - but one word stood out: poison.
your brows furrowed as you leaned back into your chair, the word echoing in your mind. poison? like food poisoning? did he get it? was that what you had?
you pushed those thoughts out of your mind. after all, what were the odds that your new friend seonghwa said something like ‘poison’ in a bakery of all places? you must’ve misheard.
the door creaked open as seonghwa stepped out, dusting his apron off as he walked back to the table.
“sorry about that,” he said, sitting across from you.
you tilted your head. “everything okay?”
“yeah,” he replied - but you swear you caught a hint of guilt in his eyes. “where were we?”
MONTH 3 - THIS ISN’T FUN ANYMORE
you wandered through the aisles that had shelves lined with tools, appliances and decorations. mrs earl invited you out for a little shopping spree, wanting to pick out a few things for her house.
as she inspected a stack of plates, something caught your attention - a small set of colourful forks, each with cute designs of fruits and animals.
“these are adorable,” you muttered as you picked it up.
mrs earl looked over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you liked these things.”
you shook your head, laughing softly. “oh- i do, but this is for seonghwa.”
“for seonghwa?” she raised an eyebrow.
“yeah,” you nodded. “he’s always giving me free food. i just thought it’d be nice to get him something.”
mrs earl’s lips curved into a knowing smile, though she said nothing. instead, she patted your shoulder and moved to examine another shelf.
over the past few weeks, seonghwa had become quite a good friend of yours. after all, you saw him everyday and you started to look forward to his presence whenever you stopped by.
and honestly? you’ve been wanting to pay him back for ages. all the free pastries, coffees and times he let you ramble on about work without looking annoyed. he needed.. compensation, if that was what it was called.
you sighed. what if he thought you were weird? well, it didn’t really matter - you wanted to do this.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the bakery was quiet and empty. seonghwa stood at the counter, his fingers gripping a small packet of crushed pills in one hand and the coffee you ordered in the other.
the poison felt heavier that it should, sinking into his palm as a reminder of what he was about to do. his mind spun, his thoughts fuzzy.
was this really happening?
he stared at the packet, his breathing shallow. it took him longer than usual to go near the wretched thing, let alone hold it. now, standing with the poison scarily close to your coffee, the reality set in.
your life was in his hands.
seonghwa’s chest tightened. he could just stop, throw the poison away, pour the coffee down the sink and pretend that none of this happened. after all, no one was forcing him to do this - except himself.
he sighed shakily, his fingers trembling as he began to shove the poison into his pocket.
but then the door swung open. you weren’t supposed to be back yet.
“hey seonghwa-!”
your voice startled him. his eyes snapped to the door as you walked in with paper bags, followed by mrs earl.
“i got you something-“ you said before your smile faltered, your eyes landing on the packet in his hand. “is that.. wait- is that drugs?”
seonghwa coughed, fully shoving it into his pocket quickly. “no- it’s not-”
your eyes narrowed - and before seonghwa could react, you went behind the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out the packet.
“wait-”
your lips parted as you read the label. “...poison?” you breathed out.
the words hung in the air.
your eyes darted to the coffee cup still clutched in his other hand. it was unmistakably yours, your drink order obvious. and it didn’t take long for the pieces to click.
“are you-“ you gulped. “...are you trying to kill me?” you asked, your voice trembling.
seonghwa stood frozen, unable to respond. 
mrs earl, who was trailing behind, looked at the packet in your hand, then at seonghwa.
“what is the meaning of this?” she demanded. she stormed over to him, grabbing a nearby towel and smacking it across his shoulder. “i trusted you with my food! my bakery! and this is what you do?!”
seonghwa flinched but didn’t resist. his eyes, however, weren’t on mrs earl - they were on you.
you were completely still, the poison clutched in your hands. 
seonghwa opened his mouth to say something - anything, but the words died before they could form. you couldn’t even look at him, your eyes wide and unfocused.
ignoring how his chest tightened, he turned and dashed - leaving nothing but silence in the bakery.
mrs earl paced angrily, muttering curses under her breath. but you didn’t hear her - you couldn’t. your eyes remained fixed on the packet, your breathing heavy.
you sat down, throwing the poison far away from you. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder than the last. 
holy shit.
he was going to kill you. 
MONTH 4 - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
you leaned back in your seat, stretching your arms above your head. you powered down your computer, your office building quiet - working overtime seemed more tiring than usual.
you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder when your eyes landed on a small box tucked into the corner of your desk.
the fork set.
for weeks, you avoided looking at it. the sight of it was a reminder of the bakery - your now-dead friendship with seonghwa and the moment you realised he tried to kill you.
why did you even keep this?
you didn’t want to bring it home. you didn’t want to keep it at all. maybe it was time to throw it away and be done with it. 
you stepped out of your office building, the streets eerily silent. the only source of light you had were the streetlights that shined yellow light onto the pavement.
you clenched the fork set in your hands.
poison.
the word did circles around your mind, sending an uncomfortable feeling throughout your body. was that why your stomach always hurt after eating his pastries? was he actually trying to poison you the whole time?
the idea of it stung. you thought back to all the times you trusted him, to all the times you talked.
was any of it even real?
your thoughts were interrupted by the faint sight of movement you caught from the corner of your eye.
you stopped, glancing to the alley to your left. at first, it was hard to make out what you were seeing, the shadows dark. but then you froze.
a man stood there, holding a gun.
and someone else was infront of him, pinned against the wall.
your breath hitched when you realised who it was.
seonghwa.
his eyes locked onto yours, wide with fear as the gunman barked something you couldn’t hear. his face was bruised, blood smeared along his jaw and soaking his shirt.
you gulped.
this man tried to kill you. you could just.. walk away, pretend this didn’t happen.
you took a step back, everything in your body telling you to leave. but then, seonghwa’s trembling hand reached toward you, his fingers shaking as he silently pleaded.
shit.
you don’t know what compelled you - pity or something else entirely, but your grip tightened on the box in your hand. quickly, you opened it, grabbing the first fork you saw.
without thinking, you chucked it at the gunman.
the fork struck his shoulder with a dull thud, making him whip around in shock, pointing the gun at you.
your heart stopped. this was it.
but seonghwa worked fast.
grabbing the fork, he lunged forward with all the strength he had, driving it into the gunman’s neck.
the man stumbled, choking as he clawed at his throat, slumping to the ground.
seonghwa collapsed to his knees, panting heavily as the fork clattered from his hand to the pavement. blood dripped from his fingertips, pooling around him as he pressed a hand to his side, trying to stop his wound from bleeding.
“...thank you,” he managed to say, his voice hoarse.
you stared at him, your chest heaving. you stepped closer, looking down at his bloodied state. “damn it.”
seonghwa glanced up at you, his eyes filled with… gratitude? sincerity? relief? or was that desperation?
you sighed, shaking your head. “you’re lucky i’m a nice person.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“i’m sorry-”
“don’t talk to me,” you cut him off, shoving a cold can of soda into his hand.
you brought seonghwa to your office, the only place you could think of where he wouldn’t be found - or bleed out. he sat in your coworker’s chair, guilt written all over his face.
with a heavy sigh, you sank into your own chair across from him, leaning back as you tried to catch your breath.
for what felt like an eternity, the two of you sat in silence, your eyes locked in an unspoken fight. dark red tissues piled up beside seonghwa as he pressed another one to the cut on his cheek, wincing.
you didn’t want to feel sorry for him. you didn’t want to care. but seeing him like this - injured, his clothes stained with the horrid look of blood, made it impossible to ignore the way your stomach twisted.
“...how did you end up like this?”
your words cracked, betraying the hurt and confusion you tried so so hard to bottle up.
“i-” began before stopping himself, his voice faltering. he pressed his lips into a thin line, looking away from you. 
EARLIER THAT DAY
“wha-? you can’t say no, seonghwa,” hongjoong snapped. “this is your job.”
seonghwa slouched deeper into the couch, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes followed his boss as he paced around the room. “i don’t want to go.”
“‘i don’t want to go’,” hongjoong mocked, stopping mid-step to glare at him. “i’m not asking you to go, i’m telling you.”
seonghwa stayed silent.
“come on,” hoongjoong ran a hand through his hair. “we got a tip they’re loitering around these streets. the least you could do is check it out.”
‘they’.
aka the drug cartel that had been bothering hongjoong and the group for months. even then, seonghwa shook his head, refusing his boss’s orders.
hongjoong let out a frustrated sigh. “you’ve been like this ever since you failed to kill that girl. you’re depressed- go outside.”
seonghwa’s head snapped up. “i’m not depressed,” he glared.
“right,” hongjoong chuckled dryly. “because moping and lazing around is normal behavior for you. wake up.”
seonghwa bit back a retort, his nails biting into his palms. he wasn’t depressed. he wasn’t.
was he?
a heavy silence settled over the room. sure, the last few weeks have been.. off. he hadn’t been sleeping well. his appetite was nonexistent. and everytime he thought about you, he felt an ache in his heart that he couldn’t quite shake.
it wasn’t depression. it was just a.. slump.
he was not depressed. 
seonghwa sighed, rolling his eyes. “whatever,” he muttered finally. he pushed himself up. “i better be paid good for this.”
PRESENT
seonghwa gulped, staring at the bruises on his arms. finally, he met your eyes, shifting uncomfortably. “...it’s just my job.”
you crossed your arms. “your job?”
he said nothing.
“seonghwa-” you began, leaning forward. “what kind of job leaves you looking like this?”
his shoulders stiffened, and for a moment - you thought he wouldn’t answer. but then he sighed, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. 
“if i tell you,” he said. “you need to promise me something.”
you raised an eyebrow. “promise what?”
“that you won’t tell anyone.”
a dry laugh escaped your lips. “i’m not promising anything. spit it out.”
“...i’m in a gang.”
“wha-” you stared at him, your face blank for a second before you let out a snort and cackle. “you’re joking, right?”
but when he didn’t laugh, you froze.
“wait- you’re not joking?” you asked, your voice quieter.
he shook his head.
his words hit you like a wave. your mind spun, connecting the dots - the poison, his sketchy behaviour, the guilty look in his eyes - it all fell into place.
“...is that why you tried to kill me?” you asked after a long pause. “what did i do?”
“that’s..” seonghwa trailed off, looking away. “unrelated.”
you rolled your eyes. “of course it is.”
his face softened into something almost remorseful. “i don’t really know how to talk about this,” he said. “but i know i’m sorry.”
“you didn’t have to save me, but you did,” he leaned forward. “and i keep wondering why- because if it was the other way around, i don’t think i would’ve done the same.”
you raised your eyebrow.
“i’m sorry, really,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know what else i can say, but i just.. i don’t want you to think i’m taking any of it lightly.”
you stared at him, surprised by how sincere he was. “seonghwa..”
“i know an apology won’t fix anything,” he said. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”
“whatever it takes?” you asked, furrowing your brows. 
he nodded quickly.
you scoffed, leaning in closer, your eyes piercing his. “if you really mean that, prove it.”
“i will,’ he said immediately.
“…uhuh,” you looked him up and down before standing, grabbing your bag. “you can start by cleaning the blood off of my coworker’s chair.”
he let out a faint chuckle, though it was more self-deprecating than anything. before you walked away, you paused, turning back to him.
“seonghwa?”
“yeah?”
you stepped closer, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards you. “before you try anything stupid, remember this: i still have that poison of yours.”
MONTH 5 - WALK HIM LIKE A DOG
you had to admit - it was convenient having your own personal assistant, even if the circumstances were… complicated.
it wasn’t like you asked for this arrangement. seonghwa brought it upon himself, showing up whenever you called. 
printer jammed? he’d be there in ten minutes. out of pens? he’d have a pack delivered to your desk. of course you didn’t trust him with tasks involving your drinks or food, but even then - he made himself useful with other things.
over time, you got used to calling him for simple errands - and he never complained. 
it was most definitely awkward though, especially when he tried to make small talk with you.
“..your hair looks nice,” he said once as he stood by your desk.
“thanks,” you replied, not looking up from your screen.
a moment passed. you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow when you noticed he was still standing there. “...do you need something?”
he quickly shook his head, turning away as he muttered an apology.
you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it amusing. as much as you hated to admit it, having him around wasn’t unbearable. 
as days turned into weeks, the distrust you held so tightly began to loosen its grip. it wasn’t like you forgot what he did, there were just moments when he seemed normal.
“you’re terrible at this,” you smirked, watching him struggle to assemble the new office chair you ordered.
he looked up at you. “i might be terrible, but at least i can read the instructions.”
you laughed.
but then you’d remember.
you’d remember the poison, the fact that this man tried to kill you for what seemed like no reason. 
and everything goes back to square one. 
MONTH 5.5 - T.G.I.F BY KATY PERRY
that friday, your coworkers insisted on dragging you out for a night at the club.
“let’s get wasted!” they said. “it’ll be fun!” they said.
that was probably a lie, but you gave in, changing your clothes before heading out.
neon lights shined erratically, painting the crowd in shifting shades of red, blue and green. bass-heavy music filled the club, so loud that it felt like waves went through your body. it was chaotic and packed to the brim with bodies swaying and stumbling.
it’d only been ten minutes and you already lost sight of your coworkers in the sea of people.
“shit,” you muttered under your breath, trying to find the exit. 
you pushed through drunk, clumsy dancers, finally spotting the door. but as you approached it, two towering men stepped infront of it, their shoulders forming an impenetrable wall.
“wha-?” you frowned, stopping. “i can’t leave?”
they didn’t respond.
“fine, whatever,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. if you were going to be stuck here, might as well grab a drink.
you made your way to the bar, squeezing between a group of rowdy patrons to get the bartender’s attention. but just as you opened your mouth to order, you heard a voice behind you.
“hey, angel.”
you paused, glancing behind to see a man standing way too close. he was quite well-dressed, but an unsettling smirk settled on his face.
“excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow.
“can i buy you a drink?” he purred, leaning closer. “i think i’ll regret it if i don’t.”
you blinked. “no, it’s okay-“
“-two shots of tequila,” he called out to the bartender, cutting you off. 
you stared at him, barely processing his words before a shot glass was placed infront of you, the clear liquid weirdly fizzing. 
“thank you, but i don’t-“
“drink.”
before you could react, his hand was at the back of your head, tilting it back as he pressed the shot glass to your lips. the liquid burned as it slid down your throat - making you cough violently while the heat seared your chest. 
“wha- what is happening?” you mumbled. your limbs felt heavy and your head was spinning as your vision blurred. 
the man’s smirk deepened, his face inches from yours as he gripped your wrist. “let me ask you something, angel.”
you blinked, your thoughts sluggish and messy.
“what do you know about a man named park seonghwa?”
the name hit you in the face, your breath hitching. “i-”
his grip on your wrist tightened painfully. “answer.”
“he’s just a baker,” you said quickly.
the man chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “are you sure?”
you nodded, unable to form a response.
he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “then why did he poison my boss a few months ago?”
poison. 
that stupid stupid word haunting you again. 
the man laughed again, low and ominous. “you had a reaction there- you know something i don’t?”
you shook your head weakly, the motion making your dizziness worse. your knees buckled slightly, making you grip the edge of the sticky counter to steady yourself.
suddenly, the man’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, still holding you firmly in place.
“yeah,” he said after a moment. “i got his girlfriend right here.”
your eyes widened. “i’m not his girlfri-”
before you could finish, his hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your words.
“sleep,” he whispered, your world fading to black.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
seonghwa laid in bed, staring at the ceiling where his fan spun. with a sigh, he shifted under the covers, letting sleep take over him.
but just as he closed his eyes, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. his brows furrowed as he reached for it.
he swiped to answer it, not looking at the screen. “yes?”
“hey seonghwa,” a low, gruff voice was heard on the other end.
instantly, he was wide awake, sitting upright in the bed. his grip on the phone tightened. “...who is this?”
the voice chuckled. “i got your pretty little girlfriend right here- knocked out like a light.”
seonghwa paused. “...girlfriend?”
“yeah,” the man replied. “the chick you’re always hanging around. surprised you weren’t with her, thought i’d have to put up a fight.”
seonghwa’s blood turned cold as the realisation hit.
you.
he didn’t waste another second. he hung up immediately, throwing off the covers as he leapt out of bed, grabbing his jacket.
his footsteps echoed through the hideout as he stormed toward jongho’s room. he barged through the door without knocking, startling jongho who was hunched over his gaming setup.
jongho spun around in his chair. “what the hell-?”
“trace this number. now,” seonghwa shoved the phone into jongho’s hands.
jongho blinked. “i’m in the middle of a game.”
“i don’t care.”
jongho groaned, taking his headset off as he tapped the phone screen. “fine.”
seonghwa paced around the room like a caged animal - his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to calm himself down. if they’d taken you, it was most definitely his fault. 
“got it,” jongho said after a while, typing something into his laptop. “you want me to track the phone too?”
“yes-” seonghwa snapped. “hurry.”
jongho glanced up at him, his brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”
“someone has her,” seonghwa muttered.
jongho’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “i thought you were over her?”
“wha- no,” seonghwa glared at him. “just find her.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you slowly woke up, your head throbbing. your first attempt to open your eyes was met with darkness. no - something pressed against your face. a blindfold. 
your body felt stiff, the coarse bite of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. inhaling shakily, you realised something else: your mouth was muffled by a towel, trapping your cries before they could escape.
panic ran around your mind as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. the surface beneath you swayed gently - and you could hear the occasional creak of metal together with muffled voices. a vehicle. you were in a moving vehicle.
but out of nowhere, you heard a shout.
“shit!”
the vehicle swerved violently, the tires screeching against the asphalt with a sound sharp enough to make you wince. your body jerked with the motion, the restraints keeping you in place. tears spilled beneath your blindfold, your breaths shallow and rapid against the towel.
the screeching came to an abrupt stop, followed by the jarring slam of a door.
what came next was a symphony of screams and the sickening, wet sounds of a blade piercing flesh, bodies hitting the ground. you clenched your fists, trembling.
the next door opened. 
another scream. 
another stab.
then silence.
your chest heaved, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. was this it? were you next?
then your blindfold slipped away.
your eyes fluttered open, the tears caught in your lashes making your eyelids feel heavy. when your vision eventually cleared, the first thing you saw was him.
seonghwa. his face splattered with blood, his dark eyes wide as he searched yours. his chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.
“are you okay?” he asked, removing the towel from your mouth.
tears spilled down your cheeks faster now, your emotions overwhelming you in a way you’ve never felt before.
seonghwa’s face softened as he wiped your tears with his thumb, the blood on his hands smearing across your skin.
he moved to the ropes binding your wrists and ankles, his hands working quickly. 
“i’m sorry,” he said softly. “i’m so sorry- shit. i should’ve stayed away from you.”
the moment you were free, you threw your arms around him. he stiffened at first, caught off guard, but then his hands moved to your back.
your body shook against his as you cried. over his shoulder, you saw the man at the bar - his lifeless body crumpled on the ground, stab wounds dotting him.
“i’m so sorry,” seonghwa whispered again, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. “this is all my fault.”
you pulled back slightly, your face still wet with tears. his hands stayed on your shoulders. “did they hurt you?” he asked softly.
you shook your head.
the vehicle fell into a heavy silence, the only sounds being your sniffling.
seonghwa gulped. “i’m sorry-”
“-thank you,” you said at the same time.
both of you froze, your words overlapping.
you chuckled, tears still clinging to your lashes.
“i’m really sorry,” he said once more, his voice cracking.
you studied him for a moment, taking in his disheveled hair, the blood on his skin and the exhaustion in his eyes. 
“...were you sleeping?” you asked, noticing the pajama shirt peeking out from under his jacket.
“yeah, i was about to.”
your eyes widened. “you saved me even though you were about to sleep?”
he raised an eyebrow. “was i not supposed to?” 
you stared at him, stunned. “...thank you.”
MONTH 6 - JUST DO IT
you’ve been staring at the text for hours, the words glowing on your phone screen.
let’s meet up.
seonghwa sent it to you that morning. no follow-up, no explanation, just those three words. and yet, they felt more heavy than you could even imagine.
what could you even say?
you tried to distract yourself, grabbing your laptop and scrolling through social media, but nothing held your attention for more than a second. your mind kept drifting back to the message.
your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with another notification. not him. but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the text again.
let’s meet up.
‘he saved you-’ you reminded yourself. ‘-but he also tried to kill you.’
it should’ve been simple. black and white. a clear boundary between trust and mistrust. but nothing about seonghwa was simple.
when you thought about him, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t the poison or the lies. 
it was his hands, trembling as he untied you. 
it was his voice, breaking with regret as he apologised. 
it was the way he looked at you, like he didn’t deserve your forgiveness but was desperate for it anyway.
you hated it.
you hated that he saved you. hated how jumbled your feelings were.
and most of all, you hated how much time you spent thinking about him and his stupidly flawless face. 
you groaned, tossing your phone onto the couch. “this is ridiculous.”
this wasn’t what you needed right now. you grabbed your bag and went out the door. maybe grocery shopping would clear your head.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the store was crowded, filled with after-work shoppers. you walked aimlessly, picking up a few essentials here and there, but your mind was still on that text.
you stopped at the fridges, grabbing a drink. but as you turned to place it in your basket, you collided with someone. “watch it-” you began.
your words fell short when you realised you bumped into seonghwa, his phone in one hand and an awkward expression on his face. his eyes widened - and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
“hey,” he said finally.
you blinked, letting out a nervous chuckle. “hey,” you raised your free hand in a small wave.
“...can we talk?”
you nodded slowly. “yeah,” you put your drink into your basket. “what’s up?”
seonghwa glanced around, looking at the other shoppers nearby. “maybe not here.”
you nodded, heading to the checkout line without another word.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you sat beside seonghwa on a wooden bench, your grocery bag resting at your feet. the both of you settled down in a park, a quieter and less busy place where you could actually breathe.
you reached for your drink, opening it. “thirsty?” you asked, holding it out to him.
he shook his head.
“i didn’t poison it,” you smirked.
seonghwa gave you a look, his ears turning pink. “you know i feel bad about that,” he muttered.
you chuckled softly, taking a sip. “sorry, sorry,” you said, turning to face him fully. “what did you want to talk about?”
he paused, hesitating as he fiddled with the edge of his jacket. “i just wanted to apologise,” he said finally.
you sighed setting the drink aside. “seonghwa- this is the hundredth time you’ve said that.”
“i know but-”
“i forgive you,” you said, your mouth moving faster than your mind.
his head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “what?”
“i forgive you,” you repeated, more confidently this time.
“...really?” he asked, completely shocked.
“yeah,” you shrugged. “you saved me. and it’s not like i can stay mad at you forever.”
seonghwa blinked. “you definitely can,” he said. “i wouldn’t blame you for it.”
silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. 
his fingers brushed against yours accidentally - and he instantly pulled his hand back, his face turning a shade of red. “oh my god- i’m so sorry-”
“seonghwa,” you interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently - his fingers slightly calloused. “stop apologising.”
“i can’t help it,” he admitted quietly.
everything seemed to come to a standstill.
the distant sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling faded into the background. your eyes locked, time pausing.
neither of you spoke.
slowly, almost unconsciously, you both leaned closer. the faint warmth of his breath brushed against your lips, uneven and nervous, mirroring your own.
you blinked, your breath caught in your throat when you realised just how close his face was to yours. “woah..” you whispered.
seonghwa immediately leaned back, clearing his throat. “sorry-”
before he could retreat any further, you reached out instinctively, your fingers curling around his jaw - his skin hot under your touch. “stop saying that,” you mumbled, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheek.
he froze, his eyes searching yours for something - permission, reassurance or maybe a blend of both.
you saw how he looked down at your lips for a split second, his adam’s apple bobbing. “...is this okay?” seonghwa breathed out shakily. 
you smiled softly, your thumb tracing slow circles on his jaw. “of course.”
the moment his lips pressed against yours, the world disappeared. 
his shoulders relaxed as he leaned into you, his hand rising to cup your cheek. his touch was careful, as if he was afraid of hurting you in some way.
your lips moved together in a soft, slow rhythm, the warmth of him spreading through you like a comforting fire. 
the sensation was intoxicating - and you found yourselves melting into each other’s touch. 
seonghwa’s breath hitched as he tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. his heart pounded against yours, a blush creeping up his neck, leaving him lightheaded.
when you finally pulled back, your lips were tingling. and before you could say anything, seonghwa leaned forward again, leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline.
“hey!”
a voice broke the moment like a needle popping a balloon. both of you jumped, your heads snapping toward the sound.
a parent stood not too far away, their hands clamped over their child’s eyes. “please do this at home or something,” they said, glaring at the two of you before walking away quickly.
you and seonghwa exchanged a look, your cheeks flushing as you tried to stifle your laughter.
“yeah,” he said, looking into your eyes, then at your lips. “let’s do this somewhere else.”
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series taglist [OPEN] - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2 @devilzliaison @scary-thingz @gaonashi @jonghosbrainrot @mintchocoyum
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BONUS SCENE - CUE THE MARIACHI BAND
you stirred awake to the faint aroma of something tasty wafting through the air. groggily, you rubbed your eyes open, only to find seonghwa standing by the bed, a tray in his hands.
“happy anniversary,” he said softly, his lips curving into a smile.
you pushed yourself up on the pillows, your eyes wide with surprise as you took in the tray - a plate of freshly baked bread and scrambled eggs.
“thank you..” you mumbled, half-asleep but touched by the gesture.
seonghwa stepped closer, carefully placing the tray on your lap. he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “eat quickly,” he said with a hint of excitement. “i got you something.”
you raised an eyebrow. “i thought we said no gifts this year.”
he shrugged, smirking. “i lied.”
you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips. you grabbed a piece of bread and started eating. it was perfect, just like everything he made.
when you were finished, you slid out of bed, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself. you walked to where seonghwa was, sitting next to him.
“seonghwa,” you began. “we agreed- no gifts.”
“i know,” he said, reaching for something on the coffee table. “but i changed my mind.”
your eyes landed on the envelope in his hands. you stared at it as he handed it to you, your brows furrowing slightly. “what’s this?” you asked, taking it hesitantly.
“open it.”
sliding your finger under the seal, you pulled out a letter. as your eyes skimmed the words, your jaw dropped.
“...is this-?”
“yeah.”
“you paid for my school?!” you exclaimed in disbelief.
he nodded. “you wanted to be an architect, right?”
“i do but..” you looked at him in shock, the letter trembling in your hands. “isn’t it expensive?”
“so?” he leaned closer to you, pulling you gently towards him.
your lips parted, trying to form words. “but you paid in full-”
“it doesn’t matter,” he cut you off softly, pecking your cheek. “i wanted to do it. for you.”
you searched his eyes, completely stunned. he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. 
when you eventually pulled away, he didn’t let you go fully. instead, he smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “happy anniversary.”
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deleted scenes | other fics
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evie-sturns · 10 months ago
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needed this - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: after a month-long business trip, you finally return home to your boyfriend matt. you find out he hasn't came since you left, obviously you have to help him.
warnings: smut, very sub!matt, overstimulating, swearing.
-------------------°°••....••°°--------------------
i've been away with work for just over a month, meaning matt's had the house to himself, i'm finally arriving home this evening.
7:54pm
i twist the key into the white door, pushing it open. the scent i'm so used to filling my nose. "matt!" i call out, placing my bag down by the front door and bending over to unstrap my heels.
"i missed you." he says with a grin, speed walking up to me and wrapping his arms around me. i bury my face into his chest, "how was it?" he asks with a wide smile.
"it was good! how was the empty house?" i say, grabbing matts hand and dragging him upstairs.
"lonley as shit without chris and matt aswell, they've been filming with other creators for ages." matt says with a sigh as we walk into our shared bedroom.
"oh yeah, i saw that tara and shit meetup with them" i say, pulling my minidress off over my head.
i can feel matts eyes laying on me as i scavenge through our closet for anything comfier to wear, giving i've been in dresses for 5 weeks straight.
matt clears his throat, "movie?"
i nod, "yeah, yeah just pick whatever you want sweetheart."
matt flicks on the tv at the end of our bed, i unclasp my bra, letting it fall to my feet. i grab one one matts shirt, pulling it down past my head,
i jump into bed beside matt, my leg resting across his waist and lap as i cuddle to his side. the netflix intro blares through the room
"jesus christ!!" i laugh, grabbing the remote and turning down the volume. "my bad." matt says with a smile, shaking his head and pulling up the white fuzzy blanket over us.
-
8:23pm
i shift the leg which is laying across him, i feel matt grow tense under me, "you okay?" i whisper, looking up at him. "yeah- no yeah- yeah no i'm good." matt stammers, i laugh slightly,
"matt whats wrong?" i say with a giggle, "no- no yeah, shit i'm fine." he says again, his cheeks a deep red as he fidgets with his rings.
"matt." i say with a serious tone. "stop!- i'm fine!" he says, getting worked up.
i sit up in bed abrubtly, the blanket falling off my body, i look down at matts crotch,
hes hard.
he yanks the blanket up over his lap, i pull it back down and straddle his thighs, staring into his eyes. "why are you hard?" i ask quietly, "i'm not!" he instantly replies, his eyes drifting away from mine.
i palm him through his sweatpants, squeezing lightly, he lets out a breathless groan. "so.. what was that?" i tease him,
"i dont know? just your leg moving.." matt says, rubbing his eyes with his fists,
"you got hard from my leg?" i laugh slightly, he nods.
"thats okay." i assure him, reaching for his waistband and toying with it, his breathing intensifies quickly, "why are you so sensitive?" i ask, "just been different since you left a month ago" matt says quietly
"different like how?" i push,
"haven't- you know.." he sighs, "i don't know actually." i reply cheekily.
he doesn't reply, his eyes fixed on my hand which is resting just under his waistband. "tell me the last time you touched yourself" i say, matt goes redder somehow.
"month ago." he says, barely audible "thats okay." i say, tugging his waistband down. "please.." matt whines slightly, "i know." i say, pulling his waistband down to his mid-thighs.
"you want this?" i ask, lifting my self off his thighs to pull my panties off, "jesus, obviously." he says, i shoot him a 'watch your tone' look and he instantly goes quiet.
i sit up, hovering myself above matts tip, which is now red. his hands stay by his sides, i'm 95% sure his brain is so fogged he doesn;t know what to do with them anymore.
i grab his cold hands, placing them on my waist. i stay sitting above his tip for a few more seconds, its tempting to see how worked up i can get matt. he trys to guide me down, but i resist.
"please." he says, "matthew, stop whining and tell me what the fuck you want." i say, "please, you know what i want" matt says shyly, i stay still, waiting for him to practically beg.
"ride me, please?" he breathes out, i can see his stomach jolting up and down from his desperate breaths underneath his white sweater.
i nod, moving my hair to one side and slowly sinking onto matt, he squeezes his eyes shut, his hands dropping from my waist and balling up the white fuzzy blanket. i slowly take more of his length before bottoming out, sitting comfortably on his dick as matt lets out small whimpers
"you alright?" i ask, grabbing his hand which is squeezing the sheets.
he nods his head, "look at me, matt." i say, he opens his eyes, letting in small breaths. "calm. down." i say, he nods again as his top teeth sink into his pink bottom lip.
i slowly start to bounce on him, his eyes stay fixed on me as i quicken my pace. i throw my head back as i balance my hands on his thighs behind me.
"close- really close." matt squeezes out, "no, not yet matt." i tell him.
"i can't, oh my fuck-" he whines, his grip on my waist tightening, the cold metal of his rings pressing against the warmth of my skin.
"you can, and will." i say, placing a hand on his stomach to balance myself as i continue to ride him. he lets out soft groans as he throws his head back into the pillows, his hair flopping.
"your okay, your doing so well." i say with a small moan as I repeatedly hit my g-spot.
suddenly i feel matt release, coating my insides. matt rubs his eyes "did i tell you you could do that?" i say, looking into matts eyes.
"im sorry, shit- i'm so sorry." he rambles, instead of pulling off him, i chase my own orgasm. he groans from overstimulation, "too much, sensitive-" he says,
"is it my fault you came early?" i say as i sit down on his cock, rubbing my clit against his pelvic bone.
he shakes his head, somewhat arching his back off the bed as his hands dig into my waist. i let my head falll foward as i look down at matts hands,
"fuck it hurts." matt says,
we have an established safe word, he knows he can use it whenever he needs, but he's not.
"you want me to stop?" i ask, he pauses for a moment before letting out a breathless "no. fuck please dont-"
i continue to bounce on his length, i feel the pit in my stomach growing as my cheeks flush, matt has mutiple tears falling down his cheeks.
"i think i'm close-" matt says, my eyebrows twist with a small laugh "again?" i question, "yeah- shit." matt groans .
i clench around him, i think thats enough for matt to finish. the knot in my stomach snaps as i feel matt finish again. i collapse down onto matts chest as i attempt to catch my breath, he reaches down and pulls out of me with a wince.
"you okay? did i hurt you?" i say as i rest my face on matts shoulder.
"yeah- no im fine, needed that a lot." he says, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my back.
after a handful of minutes i sit up on matts lower stomach before lifting myself off him, stepping down onto the plush of our carpet. "c'mon, lets get you cleaned up." i say, wiping matts face with one hand, matt stays still on the bed.
"matt? stand up" i say, matt has a small smile on his face, he wipes his eyes before starting.
"i cant.. stand."
----------------
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chrissv4mp · 3 months ago
Text
𝜗𝜚 WARM ME UP
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NAVIGATION ; OCT 26 — COCKWARMING
WARNINGS: SMUT, nipple play, cockwarming, dry-humping, degradation, humiliation(?), strap-on sex, teasing, billie's a little mean, orgasm denial :((
NOTES: was supposed to post this like a week ago, but i FORGOT TO WRITE IT // also very rushed ending 😓😓
WORDS: 3k
SUMMARY: The change from summer to fall wasn't exactly slow, and Billie tends to keep the studio quite cold. Good thing you tag along anywhere she goes.
TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @hrtsdollie @zayluvss
BILLIE EILISH × F!READER
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The cool air of fall blows in through the crack in the window. It'd been that way since forever, and nobody had complained until the first fall Billie and Finneas began working in the studio.
There's been many complaints since then, ranging from friends to even Shark, her dog. He was never able to stay in the room for too long during the fall or winter, and it always made you and Billie laugh.
This fall, though, seemed particularly cold. Maybe you'd just been too comfortable with the temperature during summer, but when Billie came back from a trip to the bathroom, she wasn't wearing her usual attire that consisted of a muscle t-shirt or some jersey from her closet.
Her upper body was covered with a hoodie, the hood covering her head. The sleeves of her thermal peeked out from under the hoodie, and you quickly noticed that she changed from her baggy basketball shorts to grey sweatpants.
They hung low on her waist, exposing just the tiniest amount of skin. Your eyes flutter for a moment, caught in a trance as you watch her walk toward the desk.
She sat back in her chair, stretching before her hands gravitated toward the mouse on the table, moving it around and fixing little mistakes in the song she was currently working on.
You lean back on the couch in the back of the studio, cuddling under the blanket you had stolen from her room just an hour prior as you watch her work from afar. She seemed to be uncomfortable, the sleeves of the hoodie rubbing against her skin every time she moved her arms.
She rolled them up, only to roll them back down as the cool wind hit her again. Her heavy breaths were a tell-tale sign that she was getting riled up. It didn't help that she couldn't perfect this one beat either, a frustrated sigh falling from her lips.
"Everything okay?" You ask, the question lingering in the air for a few moments as Billie tries to calm her nerves. She spins in her chair, eyes softening as your face comes into view.
She nods, picking at the sleeves of her hoodie as she smiles at you reassuringly, "Just so fuckin' cold in here." She mutters, a shiver going down her spine as the tag of the hoodie brushes against the back of her neck.
That was her last straw, her hands moving down to the hem of the hoodie and pulling it over her head. Her thermal rides up along with the hoodie, giving you a quick glimpse of her soft skin.
The hoodie drops to the floor as she throws it softly, letting it rest somewhere away from the equipment and not in anyone's way. Her eyes meet yours again, and you both erupt into a fit of giggles at her small outburst.
She shivers again, but this time, an idea pops into mind. Her eyes snap to you again, spreading her legs wider to get comfortable as her hands move to rest on her thighs. You don't miss the small twinge of annoyance that sparks in her eyes at the knowledge that you were still under the blanket.
"C'mere." She rasps, motioning with her ring-clad finger, a mischievous smirk on her face. You hesitate for a moment, too comfortable under the warmth of the fabric, but as you catch the look in her eyes, you quickly scramble to get off the couch.
You're standing between her legs in an instant, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air blows in through the window and hits you. You clearly hadn't read the weather forecast this morning, only throwing on one of Billie's sweatshirts before leaving the house. You were still only wearing your thin sleep shorts and a tight tanktop.
Her intimidating gaze rakes down your figure, eyes swirling with hunger, yearning. Her hands fight the urge to reach out and pull you onto her lap, gripping at the fabric of her sweatpants as her eyes snap up to yours again.
She pats her lap softly, her smile growing wider and showcasing the star tooth gem that was in between her two front teeth. The gem that you always felt on your neck each time she marked you up.
You quickly scurry to sit on her lap, hands resting on her shoulders and clinging to her body for warmth. Her hands finally find your waist, slowly traveling down your body and cupping your ass. She squeezes teasingly, a chuckle escaping her throat as she hears you gasp.
She squirms beneath your body, muttering something about getting comfortable as some lame excuse. When she pushes her hips up, though, you feel it. You feel the fake dick beneath her sweatpants.
Her eyes meet yours again, and this time, you can finally decipher the mix of emotions swirling deep in her irises. She inhales sharply before speaking, "Want'chu to warm me up," her voice is quiet, eyes slipping from yours and landing on your lips, "Can you do that f'me, 'ma?"
You don't give her a reaction at all for a few seconds, mind running wild with every different, animalistic thought imaginable. Thoughts of things you wanted her to do you. Thoughts of positions you wanted to try.
The palm of her hand lands on your ass, not too harshly but with just the right amount of pressure to catch your attention, "I know you're cold, too. Look at yourself." She whispers, breath heavy just from watching you.
"Wearin' nothing but my hoodie and those... thin shorts." She stutters for a moment, mind racing as her grip on your ass tightens, pulling you up closer. She wanted you closer. She needed to be inside you.
She chuckles softly as you grip her shoulders tighter, hips slowly rocking on the bulge as a whine bubbles up in your throat. She doesn't stop your movements, hands staying comfortably at your ass as she guides your movements subtly.
Your arousal seeps through the thin fabric, creating a wet spot on both your shorts and her sweatpants. The wetness wasn't as noticeable on your shorts, but on her pants... it was more than noticeable.
Her own hips push up, teasing you in just the slightest and earning a mewl. Your jaw hangs open as you find the perfect angle, head falling onto her shoulder as your pace picks up. Billie holds you tightly, mocking your noises and only further embarrassing you.
It was humiliating enough that you were quite literally dry-humping your girlfriend in her brother's studio while he was out of town for tour, but the way she whimpered in your ear, repeating your noises back to you, made it worse.
"Fuck," She moans, exaggerating the volume of her voice as she throws her head back, "God, I'm just such a needy bitch I can't even wait to ride you, Billie..!" Her voice breaks off in a sinister laugh, her affect on you clear just by the way you nudge your body closer to hers.
She frowns in faux concern, eyes still dark and mischievous, no remorse or sadness hiding behind them, "Was that too harsh, baby?" Her tone lets you know that, even if you do answer, she won't stop.
"Billie..." You whine, pawing at her clothes. Your hips never stop, even if you wanted them to. And you did. You didn't want to have to endure the torture of her mean words. You just wanted her to fuck you properly, and that's the one thing she wasn't doing.
A quiet sigh falls from her lips, her breath tickling your exposed shoulder and the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that went straight to your core. She nods her head down at her lap, and you get the hint immediately, hands hurriedly rushing to tug down her sweatpants and let them pool at her ankles.
When the fabric that was constricting her cock is tugged away, it springs free, the indigo color reminding you of every single time she fucked you with it. On counters, over desks, in her bed, in yours, on the floor, in the shower, every place you could possibly think of, she'd fucked you there with this exact strap.
Billie clicks her tongue against her teeth as you stare down at the silicone, patting your bottom gently in impatience. For someone who always made fun of you for being needy, she sure was always craving the sight of you bouncing on her cock. Her hungry gaze meets your own, letting out a short breath before her eyes leave yours and travel down to your nipples.
They were creating an obvious print, and Billie just licked her lips as her eyes traveled back to yours, "Take it off." She growls, to which you nod, hurrying to throw it over your head and let it fall to the floor behind you. Her eyes immediately gravitate towards your perky tits, hands leaving your ass and gripping at your hips as her lips begin to trail kisses from your jaw to your chest.
Her lips suck at your supple skin, leaving a trail of marks all down your neck, leading to your perfect breasts. She wants to mark you everywhere, no spot missing as she hungrily sucks at the skin of your tits, lips finding their way to your erect nipple and wrapping around it as your fingers thread through her hair.
"Gettin' cold, baby, c'mon." She murmurs against your skin, looking up at you through her lashes with eyes swirling with lust and adoration for you. Only you. She smirks against you at your shaky sigh, lips parting in surprise as she bites down gently on your nipple, laugh muffled slightly, "Warm me up."
One of your hands leaves her hair, the other gripping tightly at her strands. You hastily tug down your sleep shorts, tossing them somewhere on the floor behind you. Her cock stands proudly, and you grab it before Billie can say another word. As you messily align the tip with your entrance, Billie watches with a smirk, her tooth gem showing and just making you all the more excited.
When you sink down on her cock, a guttural moan echoes all throughout the studio. The walls were soundproof, and nobody was here except you two, but it still made you attempt to hide your face in the crook of her neck. As she sees you start to lean forward, though, her hand leaves your hip and quickly wraps around your neck, stopping you.
Her lips leave your nipple, adjusting her position so that she can look you dead in the eyes. Her hips move, and you mewl quietly, biting your lip in an effort to stifle your moans. Her eyes tell you a million things, but you still don't get the hint, hips moving up, needing to ride her already. She'd teased you for far too long, and you were tired of it.
The hand on your hip stops you, grip tightening on your skin and pulling you down on her cock again before you even got an inch away. You let out a pathetic whine, the short feeling of the ridges of the strap against your walls making your mind hazy and your vision blurry. But, you still look into her cold blue eyes, regretting it instantly as she tilts her head with that stupid, sexy smirk on her face, "Didn't say I wanted you to ride me, baby,"
"Just said I was cold." She giggles, clicking her tongue as she pushes her hips up teasingly. She was being so mean, and yet you couldn't do anything about it, "And that I needed 'ya to warm me up." She corrects, her tone soft like she was talking to a child as she nodded her head slowly. Your lips push out in a pout, and Billie mirrors your expression mockingly.
You moan again as she adjusts her sitting position, spreading her legs further and watching as your face contorted into a twisted look of pleasure and frustration. She hesitantly dragged her eyes away from you, spinning in her chair slowly and hearing your quiet, short breaths as you shifted in her lap uncomfortably, "Gonna work, so..." Her eyes snap up to you again, her ring-clad hand moving from your neck down to your hip, joining the other.
"Don't want any distractions, 'mmkay?" Billie hums, cocking an eyebrow as she scoots her chair in closer to the desk. The shift makes the cock move in your cunt, eyes rolling to the back of your head as it brushes against your g-spot. The noise that falls from your lips is sinful, one hand tugging at her hair as the other paws at her chest through her shirt. The girl beneath you only bites her lip, slowly moving her eyes back to the monitor as she lets out a shaky breath.
You slowly roll your hips against her dick, eyes fluttering as you let out whimpers every now and then. The way you shift on her lap isn't unnoticeable, but you're too far in subspace to even realize that you're fully riding her now. She doesn't stop you, though. The base of the strap hits her clit with each of your bounces, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth heavily as she grips at the mouse. It should've broke with her tight grip.
"Y/N." She huffs, hands leaving the keyboard and mouse and quickly halting your movements. Your eyes stay on hers, a silent plea to keep going, but she still doesn't break, a stern expression on her face as she bites her lip, "Stop bein' so fuckin' impatient all the time." Billie grumbles, throwing her head back against her chair for two reasons. Both reasons known to the two of you.
You rolled your hips again, and she let out the smallest fucking whimper. Just that noise alone made you wetter, closer to your release as you clenched around the fake cock. She swore she could feel it, but maybe that was just because her clit twitched each time you moved on her lap. Your hands stayed at her shoulders, nails digging into the fabric as your head falls forward, noticing that your pussy swallowed her cock all the way to the base.
"Ma," She grunts, grip on your hips loosening. Her weak demands only turn your on further, wanting to disobey her just to see where it would get you, so you continue to rock your hips, slowly working your way up to bouncing on her lap again. She tries not to make too much noise, but she really can't help herself, whines and pathetic cries falling from between her lips as her nails scratch down your bare back, head coming to fall on your chest as she huffs and puffs weakly, trying to catch her breath, "Mm.. Mama—Gonna fuck—fuckin' destroy you tonight."
She's weak beneath you. The roles completely reversed now. But, as you continue to bounce wildly on her cock, losing your mind almost, her dominance starts to kick in again. The way you blatantly disobey her fuels the fire in the pit of her stomach, her mind racing with endless thoughts. Thoughts of various punishments she would give you once you two weren't in her brother's studio. Shit. This was her brother's studio.
"Fuck—Y/N." Her voice breaks, but you can hear the stern tone of it. You can feel the way her eyes burn holes through your body, grip tightening on your waist and slamming you down onto her cock. You can't help but tremble uncontrollably, incoherent babbles falling from your lips as you try to move again, but she doesn't let you, "God, you're just so cock-hungry, aren't you?" She scoffs, raising an eyebrow, "Such a dirty slut." She reprimands, but little does she know it only brings you closer to that sweet, hot feeling.
The smell of sex consumes the room fully, now, and Billie mentally curses herself for not remembering that he would be back in LA in only a few days. But, it was your fault, really. That's what she told herself, "Makin' a mess of Finneas' studio—God, baby. Are you that needy?" She whispers, voice dripping with venom and anger and all of the above. Her hands slowly lift you off her cock, and with the slowness of her movements, you almost cum on the spot.
Her eyes gauge the look on your face, though, quickly pulling you off her dick and denying you the euphoria of your orgasm. Her eyes are dark, even in the bright light coming from the monitors, lamps, and the windows. You whine pitifully as she sets you on her thigh, just a few inches away from the silicone cock. Using your puppy dog eyes would be worthless, so you just sit and slowly grind on her thigh, only to earn a harsh slap on your ass by the girl beneath you.
"Put your clothes back on and get your things." She whispers, standing up and pulling up her own pants, hiding the cock beneath her sweatpants again. She'd use it on you later tonight, in more positions than you could even think of. But, she wouldn't let you cum. No, not until you learned true patience and who was in control.
You obey her this time, scurrying off her lap hesitantly and grabbing your things from the floor, dressing yourself, and collecting the blanket you had stolen from Billie while leaving the house. You sit at the couch in the back again, legs trembling with both excitement and from the fact that you'd just been denied. She turns off the equipment and the monitors before turning to face you with those beautiful ocean blue eyes of hers, a small smirk on her face.
"Car. Now." She demands, voice not trembling even a bit. She watches as you stand up on wobbly legs, eyes following you as your feet take you to the door. Her own feet follow close behind you, tongue poking the inside of her cheek as she takes a deep breath. She was gonna ruin you.
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KINKTOBER
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yandere-daydreams · 2 years ago
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Black Cat!Wanderer, who you find in an alleyway behind your apartment complex, badly bruised and barely conscious. He's poorly dressed, even for a hybrid, shivering and deathly pale, but he still finds the strength to snap at you as you approach him. You have to bribe him with fish you can't afford and a blanket nicer than anything you'd buy for yourself before he lets you so much as touch him, and even then, he's quick to growl and tell you to get away from him as soon as you try to pet him. He's a temperamental kitten, but considering the state he's in, you can't say you blame him for being so defensive.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who lets himself into your apartment after a few weeks of alleyway visits and offered meals. He doesn't scratch at your door or ask to come in. You find him splayed out on your couch when you get home, muttering that it'd been too long since the last time he saw you and scowling into a clawed-up pillow. He still comes and goes as he pleases (you wouldn't try to keep a hybrid so clearly used to being on his own contained), but he spends most of his time curled up on your bed or trailing after you around the house, still pretending he'd rather be anywhere on earth other than in your lap. He says that you're just like every other human, that he only hangs around you for the food and a warm place to sleep, but the way he purrs when you scratch at his ears says otherwise.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't just visit you at home, either. He always seemed to ""coincidentally"" be passing by your office just in time to walk you home from work, and doesn't seem to consider a quick grocery run or shopping trip to be a good enough excuse to get rid of him. You're lucky he's a cat, rather than something bigger, something more difficult to pass off whenever he follows you into a cafe or bodega. He's lucky that he's so cute, or else you might call his bluff and start treating him like the housecat he won't admit he wants to be.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who doesn't know that you know he likes to cuddle up to you while you're asleep. Most of the time, he'll wait until you go to bed properly before curling up against your side, but you've found him laid out on top of you after passing out on your tiny couch, fast asleep despite his best efforts to always scurry away before you notice he's there. You never considered yourself a catperson before you met him, but god, sometimes you feel like you could spend the rest of your life fawning over your shy little alley cat.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who's been with you long enough to be hyper-aware that there are people - humans, nonetheless - you'd rather spend time with than him. He doesn't need your attention, he doesn't need you, but he's not going to lose you to a human, either - not when you're the only person he can stand to be around.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who might just be a cat but still has teeth and claws as sharp as any predator. Following the coworker you've mentioned just a few too many times home is child's play, and it only takes a few seconds to drag his claws across their throat, to dig his teeth into their jugular and shut them up before they can scream. It's just like killing a rat, something you've praised him for a thousand times, even if he still cringes when the taste of iron hits his tongue.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who spent enough time as a stray to know the best places to put something he doesn't want anyone else to find. The body is dropped into a gutter with a loose grate, the blood washed off of his face in a relatively clean drainage canal. He's home by sunrise, and he can't control the way his chest rumbles as he slots himself against your side - happier than he's ever been before.
Black Cat!Wanderer, who'd do anything to make himself the center of your little world.
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dollyhyuckii · 3 months ago
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FALLING IN LOVE WITH MINGYU
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mingyu! x fem!reader ⋆୨୧˚
wc—934 ⋆୨୧˚
cw-kissing, everything is lowercase on purpose ⋆୨୧˚
an-please remember make sure to vote!!(i really like how this came out so I hope you all enjoy! reblogs and likes really help!!) ⋆୨୧˚
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆
you and mingyu have known each other for years, and everyone always thought you two would make a cute couple. but you both always shrugged it off as just being “best friends.” one afternoon, as the two of you sit in the park, you catch yourself staring at him. you had no idea why, but your heart started racing, and your mind goes completely blank when mingyu looks over.
“are you okay?” he asks, smirking.
you stammers, “uh, yeah, i just… i don’t know why, but every time i look at you, my brain just kind of… blanks out.” you laugh nervously. “i think I’m going a little crazy.”
mingyu chuckles and nudges your shoulder playfully. “well, you’re always a little crazy.”
but your heart skips a beat, and you wonder if maybe it’s something more.
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
that evening, you both were sitting at your kitchen counter, eating ice cream straight from the tub. mingyu tells a silly joke, one that’s not even that funny, but you finding yourself laughing. it’s a little laugh that catches you off guard, and you can’t help but shake your head in disbelief. how did he become so endearing?
mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “what’s with that sigh?”
“nothing,” you say, smiling softly. “you’re just…”
he raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but you just shake your head. you realized you couldn’t explain it without sounding ridiculous.
୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
a few weeks pass, and you and mingyu are walking home from a late movie. it’s one of those perfect nights, stars scattered across the sky. out of nowhere, you blurted out, “this is really awkward, but i know i told you i wasn’t looking for love… but i kinda fell in love.”
mingyu stops in his tracks, his eyes widening. “with… who?”
you shrug, playing it cool, trying to mask your embarrassment. “i don’t know… maybe you?”
the look in his eyes softens, and you feel a flicker of hope. “well,” he says quietly, “maybe i’d take
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
the next time you both are together, your studying at a coffee shop. it’s one of those cozy, rainy days, and mingyu is buried in his book. you looks over at him, feeling your heart swell, and you suddenly blurt out, “can i love you?”
mingyu blinks, taken aback. he slowly looks up from his book, and a small smile plays on his lips. “i think… i’d really like that”
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
it’s a lazy sunday, and your both sprawled out on mingyu couch watching tv. you rests your head on his shoulder, feeling a surge of warmth you can’t explain. without thinking, you murmured, “i just… adore you.”
mingyu turns his head slightly, his face close to yours. he whispers back, “i adore you too.” you both share a quiet moment, neither of you needing to say anything more.
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ you both decide to go on a spontaneous road trip. it’s late, and mingyu is yawning every few minutes as he drives. you notices his eyes drooping and says, “hey, pull over. i can take over for you.”
he looks at you, grateful but reluctant. “are you sure? you haven’t slept either.”
you nodded, determined. “i want you to be safe.”
as you drive, you glance over to see him sleeping soundly beside you. you smile, your heart fluttering at how peaceful he looks.
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ back home, you tried to convince yourself that you were not really in love with mingyu. you mutters to yourself, “no, i’m not in love with him. i mean, yes, thinking about hurting him makes me want to throw myself into traffic, but that doesn’t mean anything, right?”
your friends laugh, but they knew deep down that  you were not fooling anyone, least of yourself .
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
one evening, your both watching a movie on your couch. you had fell asleep halfway through, your head drooping onto his shoulder. he smiles softly, reaching for the throw blanket nearby and draping it over you. he adjusts himself to make sure you were comfortable, realizing just how much he cares for you.
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
one night, as you two were camping under the stars, you thought mingyu had
fallen asleep. you let out a sigh and whispered, “i think i might be in love with you, mingyu.” you feel a weight lift from your chest, assuming he can’t hear you .
but to your surprise, mingyu shifts and murmurs, “i might be in love with you too.” you freeze , your heart racing, as he reaches out to hold your hand.
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
the next day, your back home, sitting on your porch. you both talk about everything and nothing, but somehow, the conversation drifts to the relationship. without thinking, you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow. when the both of you pull back, mingyu looks stunned.
you laughed nervously, stepping back. “um, okay. yeah, that’s not a normal kiss. i definitely love you.”
he grins, pulling you close again. “good, because i love you too.”
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
after months of tiptoeing around the feelings, mingyu finally calls you to meet at your favorite park. when you arrive, he looks nervous, fidgeting with his hands.
“i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this,” he says softly. i love you,. more than i ever thought possible.”
you feel tears prick in your eyes as you smile , stepping into his arms. “i love you too, mingyu. i think i always have.”
your friendship gradually blossoms into something more, filled with quiet, tender moments and unspoken confessions. and as you both walk hand in hand, you both realize that sometimes, the best love stories start as friendships.
.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚
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belphies-cowgirl · 8 months ago
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Maybe once or twice a month, Lucifer, MC, and Barbatos go on a huge grocery shopping trip together.
Barbatos enjoys the company, and Lucifer doesn't mind, and both can spend time with MC without interference, and it gives them both a nice domestic feeling. they can plan meals for each week or help each other find deals, etc. I can also see Lucifer and Barbatos (and sometimes Mammon) clipping coupons together. MC usually ends up carrying a long last-minute list, and it makes Lucifer pinch the bridge of his nose even though he called a family meeting and had everyone say what they wanted or needed the night before.
Mammon joins sometimes because he helps them spot sales or save more money. Beel usually doesn't because he pretty much needs to be prevented from eating everything in the store the whole time. and Asmo spends too long in the beauty aisle, and most of it is spent looking in the little mirrors rather than looking at products to buy (he has to look in each mirror at least twice).
Belphie usually can't stop falling asleep, so he has to be put in the shopping cart, and Lucifer has to put groceries on or around him. Levi goes on rants about anime recipes he wants to serve for dinner and ends up doubting if anyone will want to eat it because it was made by a "loser otaku." Lucifer usually reaches his limit, grabs the ingredients, puts them in the basket, and walks away (he secretly enjoys trying Levi's anime recipes). and we all know why Satan would be the last person to tag along.
Diavolo gets a bit jealous about these trips because he wants to spend time with his three favorite people. come on, Barbatos, please, he's done the majority of his work for the day, and it's just for a few hours. he promises he'll finish the rest of his work afterward :(
✄ ——————————————————————
comments & reblogs are very appreciated :) 
please do not use my work as your own!
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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months ago
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Injured (Alexia's Version): Future III
Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader
Summary: You spend time with Mami
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"You know," You say, resting against the bench," Just because I'm now free from my job doesn't mean that I enjoy coming to yours. I'm not six."
Alexia laughs at your teasing, lightly slapping your legs to move so she can sit down too.
You sit up, adjusting your sunglasses on your face as you move.
"You love it really."
You roll your eyes, not that Alexia can tell but you're grinning too and she bumps her shoulders against yours.
Mami's been retired from football for a while now, a player turned manager of Barcelona's women's team. She's on a quest to get as many titles as manager as she did as a player.
Which is why you're here now, at a Champion's League semi-final. It's the second leg with Barcelona already up three nil against Chelsea.
You're not too worried but your Mami is. She knows how quickly a match can change.
It just takes one moment for it all to go to shit.
Mami's a bit intense like that.
It's probably one of the reasons you prefer ballet to sports. There's no competition when you're actually performing. There's some competition for parts behind the scenes but once you're on stage, there is no foul play.
Everyone is trying to do their very best for the crowd.
You couldn't even imagine what it would be like to compete against another ballet company at the same time.
Football has always been a bit too intense for you. It was Mami's passion, even now.
"You're too stressed," You say," Take a day off."
Alexia laughs at you, teasingly ruffling your hair. "Funny," She says," I distinctly remember telling you that a few weeks ago. What was it you said to me? No chance!"
You laugh with her. "Hey! I never said I practiced what I preached!"
"Neither did I!"
It's nice being here with Mami.
Olga's in Madrid with a client and Jaume's on a trip with his school so it's just the two of you in the house right now.
"The girls will be fine," You say dismissively," You're ready. It's only Chelsea."
"Only Chelsea," Alexia repeats with an eye roll," You've not been watching any of their games recently."
You blow her a kiss. "You know I only watch football when you're around, Mami. I'm not Jaume."
Jaume watches football as often as he can, glued to the screen. If he's not watching then he's playing. His dirty football boots lay all over the house.
It's a little annoying, especially when he jumps onto your bed still wearing them.
But you do miss him, annoying as your brother is.
The stadium slowly fills up with fans as you and Alexia sit on the bench together.
You think you and Mami are more similar now that you've grown up. You've always been like her subtly. Her drive and her passion and her ambition.
But you look more like her now.
You've grown into her features, your nose, the curve of your lips, your eyes.
You grin as she pulls you up, grasping your hand tightly as she guides you back inside.
You've got a break for a few weeks before you're back with the company. It's a welcome break, one where you can go back to eating normally and feeling like the world is crushing you.
It's a brutal cycle but one every ballerina goes through.
It's hard and it's horrible but it's what you sacrifice on the altar of ballet.
This break is nice though.
You've got a trip to Mallorca coming up during it where you can just soak up the sun and the sand and whatever fruity drinks you can be bothered to buy.
Just you and the crystal waters.
"Hey," You say to Alexia," I'm going to grab something from the vending machine. Do you want something?"
"I shouldn't..."
You see through her excuses though, waiting her out.
"Just a drink. Sugar free, Bambi!"
"I know!"
You know the stadium like the back of your hand, weaving through the halls to the vending machine you know stocks the best chocolate bars you've ever eaten.
Mami used to buy them for you and Jaume when you were little and the match was over. She used to walk all the way to the rival's end of stadium, still in her kit and boots with you and Jaume following after her like little ducklings.
She didn't even care that the opposing players would stare. She would walk straight up to the vending machine in front of their changing room to get you your favourite chocolate and Jaume his favourite drink.
You could do the walk in your sleep.
Someone's already there though, staring through the glass at it.
It's one of the Chelsea girls.
You vaguely recognise her, one of the older players on the team. You're pretty sure she plays for England too but you're not quite sure because you only watch matches when Mami's around.
"Sorry," You say. You're English is rusty from years of not using it apart from in school. "Are you-?"
"Oh! No, sorry."
You nod in thanks, punching in your choices before paying.
You grab your chocolate and Mami's drink.
She's pretty, this older woman. Exactly your type. If you'd met in the club, you'd probably try to entice her closer but you're at Mami's workplace so you don't.
"I'm not sure what to choose," She says," What do you recommend?"
"The chocolate," You say, waving your choice," The crisps are always stale. Don't get them."
She nods. "Noted."
You go to leave but she still calls after you.
"Hey, can I have your number?"
You lay your cards in the table immediately. "I'm not looking for a relationship," You tell her," I...I'm just not..."
She shrugs. "Can I have your number anyway?"
"You don't mind?"
"I just got out of a relationship. I'm not looking for another one. But you're fit and you give good snack recommendations."
You study her. "I'm y/n."
"Aggie. So...is that a yes?"
"Sure."
When you make your way back to Mami, the Barcelona girls are already warming up.
"You took a while," She says, gratefully taking her drink and pressing a soft kiss to your crown.
"I stopped at the toilets," You reply.
She nods. "Are you still okay with staying down here instead of going to the box?"
"As long as you don't yell at me if it goes wrong then yeah."
"I'd never yell at you," Alexia says," I've been told that having you down here actually makes me calmer."
You roll your eyes. "Whatever." You look down at your phone in your hand. "Hey, remember when you worried about me going to Mallorca by myself?"
Alexia frowns at the change of subject but nods. "Yes. I still am worried, if that's what you're checking."
"You don't need to be," You say," I've got someone coming to stay with me now."
Sun, sand, sea and sex.
The best way for you to spend your break from ballet.
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quokkaholic · 7 days ago
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Sauna Syncope b.c
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Warnings: MNDI, fluffy smut with just a pinch of plot, oral f receiving, slight overstim, soft dom!chan, passing tf out, touching y/n while unconscious but not sexual, cussing duh. Lightly edited
Synopsis: I saw a TikTok (rip) where someone said that something like this happened in the dark romance she was reading (unfortunately she did not drop the rec). Chan is a munch, and the physical and sexual heat cause y/n to lose consciousness.
❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 🏔️❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆
Bang Chan has been traveling for work a lot recently, and even though you understand it's just part of his job and weren’t upset with him by any means, he decided he wanted to “make it up to you” by taking you on a long weekend trip before he has to go back out of town. As it is winter in Korea, he rented out a villa for you guys to have romantic getaway in the snow covered mountains. The day you arrived, you questioned if the location truly mattered at all as you two barely left the bedroom. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and while that might be true, you know for a fact that it makes your lust expand exponentially. Weeks of pent up desire flowing between you. With you both being on different sleep schedules, you end up staying up into the early hours of the next morning for round after round, but they don’t feel like separate events, each flowing seamlessly into each other more like waves of passion and intimacy ebbing and flowing.
It's rare you can get Chan to sleep in late with you; he's such a busy body, always feeling as if something needs to get done. Last night must have exhausted him as much as it did you; although he still woke up before you, the time was on the brink of midday. If you two were home, he’d be flying out of bed rushing to be productive in one way or another, but here, he snuggled up against your sleeping form drinking in your warmth and light snores and sighs. He's committing every moment to memory to get him through his next stint of being apart from you. His tender touch draws patterns over your exposed skin gently rousing you from your slumber. When he notices you stirring, he pets with more force shifting to massaging your arm and shoulder that are sticking out over the duvet attempting to keep you from drifting back to sleep.
“Morning, Babe.” His groggy voice makes your heart flutter. He plants a firm kiss to your forehead before trying to slip out from under the covers and off the bed, but your newly found sentience allows you to sling your arms around his waist to stop him. Your arms are weak due to your sleepy state, but you don’t have to exert any force for him to fold, halting his movements and sliding back next to you giggling. You lay in bed for another half hour snuggling, rubbing, and sharing lazy kisses. He finally gets you to let him go with promises of breakfast for lunch.
After fueling up on food and coffee, you two bundle up, putting on lay after layer before venturing out into the snow. You make a cutesy family of snowmen and toss a few snowballs, but it doesn’t last long as a rogue ball hits you in the chest and explodes in your face. Chan feels so bad, he keeps apologizing and insisting you hit him back, and when you refuse you have to stop him from shoving his face in the snow in your honor.
Before you had left the house, Chan had turned on the sauna to heat up. While playing in the powder was delightful, the frigid air was starting to burn your skin and chill your bones. The warming steam of the spa was calling to you. When you decide to go inside, Chan tells you to go on without him because he needs to quickly send some emails, god forbid he goes a day without doing at least a little work.
After peeling off your wet outer layer and leaving it by the fire to dry, you head back to your room to strip the rest of the way down and put on a robe only to remove it when you get to the steam room, grabbing a small towel before entering. The room is so hot against your chilled skin, it almost stings as you’re defrosted. You find a seat on the wooden bench and practically melt into it. Not only does the radiating heat feel heavenly warming you up but it also helps release any tension or soreness left from yesterday’s salacious acts. The temperature and humidity in the room is so high that it's a little difficult to breathe, but besides that, it's serene, like being swaddled in a cloud. The bench is deep enough to lie down, but you opt for scooting back into it so you can rest your head on the back wall lifting one of your feet and resting it on the edge, stretching your hip just right so that you cant help but let out a sigh. With your head tilted back, you close your eyes and place the small towel over your lids, letting your body go limp and be swallowed by the heated mist. A layer of sweat and condensation starts forming on your skin gathering and falling down in rivulets, but you can't bring yourself to even care to wipe them, so tranquil you don't want to move a muscle. That sentiment remains when you hear the door open and shut; it can only be one person, so you don't bother looking, but when a minute or two go by and he hasn’t said anything, you gather the motivation to raise the towel off an eye to peek for Chan. You find him bare, having discarded his matching robe at the door presumably when he saw your lack of modesty, on his knees in front of you, hunger in his eyes and a loving smirk on his lips.
“You’re a vision, Y/n. My goddess” speaking in a sultry but hushed tone as if he’s just talking to himself, as he reaches forward to grab your hips and pull you to the edge.
He begins his worship by scattering wet kisses on your thighs, his plump lips almost cooling on your hot skin. Working up higher and higher with each kiss, he lingers on the marks he had left on your skin little more than 12 hours earlier. He makes his way to your mound, covering you with more sweet affection.
“Channie” you sign his name. He lets out a soft sound of acknowledgement mixed with a moan, the sound stoking the fire inside. Your inner heat growing to match the external one. He finally plants a sloppy kiss over your clit earning a hiss as you suck in a breath through your teeth.
“Oh, you're so good to me,” praising him.
“It's only what you deserve, Baby” mumbling into your cunt, refusing to remove his lips even to talk. His kisses on and around your sensitive bud become longer and more powerful, eventually switching to gently sucking as he uses his fingers to toy with your entrance, just barely dipping the tip of his index in and out. Instead of continuing with his fingers, Chan moves his tongue to take over for his digit. Licking into your opening, savoring every bit of your arousal. Rubbing his nose over your slick and swollen clit, knowing you go crazy for it. It's not long before you feel your release coming.
“Fuck Baby, I’m gonna…oh” drawing out the last word as your orgasm racks through you. Chan smiles up at you as he continues to lap at your center, face flushed and loose curls sticking to his quickly dampening forehead; you’ll never get over the sight of him between your thighs. He allows his tongue to slow as he eases you down from your high, but he doesn’t pull away. Soon Chan is slowly slipping two fingers into you, inducing a prolonged groan.
“Sounds so pretty, Babe”, his compliment and slow curling of his fingers cause a string of curses to leave your lips as you try to put together a coherent sentence. Between pants you manage to get out,
“Chris… I don't know if I can… again.” You’ve already cum so many times in the past day, it's hard to imagine having another.
“Need me to stop? I just want to make my love feel good” He always takes both your pleasure and concerns very seriously.
“It feels so good” you whine out with your head tossed back.
“Hmm I think you can do it. Just one more, Y/n. For me.” You don’t have to look, you can hear the cheeky smile in his voice. He remains devouring you while working his fingers in perfect time. His soft licks to your clit are sending jolts of pleasure through you, and Chan is loving watching your squirm on his tongue. Volume raising and thighs squeezing around his head, he knows what is coming.
“That's it babe, doing so good”
“Fuuuh,” is all you can get out, shaking and whimpering. The air feels thick, not just with lust, but the steam and heat are starting to get to you. Your breaths are becoming strangled, if you were smart you’d ask for a break to steady your heaving chest, but it feels so unfathomably good and you’re so close to bursting. Chan’s free hand wraps from under your thigh and drags up it before reaching out to interlace your fingers. The tender gesture causes your pounding heart to lurch and send you reeling as you cum yet again shuddering against Chan’s face. Just as the peak passes and relief floods your mind darkness takes over your vision. You don’t have time to panic before you lose consciousness. This wouldn’t be the first time you blacked out from pleasure, but it is the first time you didn’t immediately wake up.
When you gradually come to, the first thing you hear is running water and feel cool water flowing over you. Opening your eyes, you find yourself on the built in granite seat of the shower in the master bathroom.
“Hi Channie,” you whisper, pulling him from his focus as he wiped your body with a soft rag. A sigh of relief escapes his lips.
“Hi my baby. How do you feel?” he asks calmly but with poorly masked concern on his face.
“I’m great. A little sleepy but so happy. How long was I out?” you ask groggily.
“Just long enough for me to get you to the shower, so only a couple of minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I knew you’d be okay once I got your body temp down, but shit, if that wasn’t terrifying.” he says with a bit of a nervous chuckle before continuing,
“No more sauna for you” he commands.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m okay now,” you attempt to rise to your feet, but are met with Chan's strong hands on your shoulder holding you down.
“Sit your ass down. You’re not walking anywhere, at the very least until the end of the day. You might feel fine now, but I'm still making you a doctor’s appointment to get checked out just to make sure nothing is wrong. Now just sit there while I finish washing you. I give you a little show while I get clean to keep you entertained. Then, we’ll go cuddle and watch something, yeah?” he asks as if you have a choice.
You spend the rest of the vacation trying to convince him that you truly are totally fine, and while he says he believes you, he is still doting on you even more than usual.
❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆🏔️❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆
A.n- thanks for reading :) if you saw me post this earlier, no you didn’t. V sad about the tt ban. Where am I supposed to watch edits now?
-mo ❄️
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bookshelf-dust · 1 year ago
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kiss it better
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 3,176
warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)
a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.
————
The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 
You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 
You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?”
Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 
“Hey, it’s me.”
The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.
“Steve?”
Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 
You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 
“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 
Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 
“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 
His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 
“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 
You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 
“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 
“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”
You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 
“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
————
Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 
Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 
He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 
And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 
He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 
Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 
He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 
Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 
When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 
“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 
He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 
“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 
You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 
You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 
Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 
He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.
You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 
Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 
You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 
“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 
“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 
You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 
One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 
“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 
He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”
You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 
“Hey. Look at me.”
He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 
You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.
Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 
Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 
“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 
You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 
“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”
He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 
By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 
You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 
He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”
You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”
His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 
“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”
He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.
When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 
You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”
“Steve?”
“Huh?”
“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”
His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 
“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 
You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.
“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”
————
When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 
But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 
“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”
He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 
“Hit me, I can take it.”
You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 
“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”
He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”
His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”
Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”
You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”
“Hm?”
“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”
Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 
He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 
Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 
Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”
You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”
He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”
“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”
“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”
You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 
He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 
He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 
“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”
Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.
“What?”
“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”
“How come?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Best friends.”
“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”
His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 
“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”
You blink. “Huh?”
Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”
You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 
“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 
“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”
Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 
“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 
“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.
He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 
Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 
You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 
Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 
You have made him whole. 
He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 
“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”
You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 
Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 
When you pull away, he whines. 
“All better?”
Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 
“I’m healed.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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queenendless · 1 year ago
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😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷
A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.
Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.
But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.
All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.
* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.
I hope you enjoy!
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Your throat feels raw.
Your nose feels stuffy.
And you kept coughing every few minutes.
You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.
But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.
The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.
"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.
Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.
"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"
In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.
You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.
That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.
Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.
"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.
In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.
The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.
"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.
"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.
"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.
You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.
You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.
"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."
°•○•°•○•°•○•°
Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.
Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.
The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.
"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"
"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.
"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."
Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"
Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.
So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.
"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.
"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.
"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.
"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."
"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.
"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.
Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"
"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.
"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.
Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"
"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"
"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.
"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.
"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.
"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."
"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.
"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.
"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.
"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.
"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.
"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.
"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.
"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."
"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.
"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.
"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.
"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.
"Y - You're w - welcome!"
Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.
Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.
You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.
But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.
The SatoSugu cure, indeed!
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penkura · 8 months ago
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where you belong [1/10]
Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader
Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.
Notes: Hi, it's me again! Another fanfic here for you all! When this goes up, I'll be on my last day of vacation before I fly home, so I hope that you'll enjoy this! I know Straw Hat Reader x Law is popular, and I wanted to write my own, but with the Reader being Luffy's biological older sister. So for this, Reader is three years older than Luffy, 20 at the start and 22 after the timeskip, making Law four years older. I personally like older men, and age gap fics are just delicious reading material for me (within reason, nothing illegal).
Note 2: This is NOT the Law with vitiligo series. That one is actively being planned but will be separate from this one.
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“And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!!”
Luffy standing your tiny dingy boat worries you a little, but you still grin at him and nod.
“Hell yeah you will be!”
“Your turn! What’re you gonna do while we sail??”
Rolling your eyes, you make Luffy sit down while you stand up.
“Easy. I’m gonna chronicle your journey and write the greatest story ever told!”
Your younger brother watches you, tilting his head when you don’t continue. He believes there has to be more you want out of life, and tries to make you say what else is in your plans, what you have on your mind.
“And?”
Taking a breath, you nod. Of course he knew you had more, it’s Luffy, he’s been by your since he was just a few weeks old. Things you’ve said over time, to him and Ace, they’d both known for a long time what you’ve always wanted to find once you went out to sea.
“And find where it is I belong.”
+!+
Your arrival in Sabaody was a trip, in more than one way. You'd been excited to explore the place, hoping you could pawn your younger brother off on Camie, Pappag, and the others so you could have some time on your own to shop the stalls, maybe with Nami and Robin, turn it into a girl’s day. Of course, though, nothing could be so easy when your brother is the captain of the Straw Hats. You all find yourselves at the human auction hall, Nami willing to spend all the money possible to save Camie, but it makes you itchy while being there. You cringe to think about the things that happened in this place, how many people had been sold to Celestial Dragons. Your and Luffy's loss of Sabo due to the actions of one had severely soured your opinions on them.
You scan the crowd in the auction house, scratching at your arms which never seem to calm down while the rest of your crew discusses their plan to save Camie, and you end up locking eyes with another pirate captain there, unknown to you at that moment but somehow familiar.
A furry white, spotted hat, dark hair you can barely see, oddly enough you think his facial hair is attractive, and those yellow eyes that you almost would believe see right through you.
Trafalgar Law simply stares at you, realizing you’re a Straw Hat when he recognizes the rest of your crewmates. After a moment of fidgeting slightly you give him a nervous smile and a wave, which he returns with a nod before turning back to the auction stage as they continue to call bids on people.
Weird girl.
Strange guy.
Although she’s busy watching for Camie to be brought out, Nami still leans into you when you pull on her sleeve and start to whisper. “You see that guy in the white spotted hat?”
“What about him?”
“I think he’s Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates. He’s more attractive than his poster makes him.”
Rolling her eyes, Nami pulls her arm away from you. “I don’t have time for you to be horny about some guy.”
“Wha—Nami!! I’m not! I’m just saying.”
She doesn’t listen to you anymore, focusing back on waiting for Camie and sending you to watch for Luffy, just so you don’t get distracted by the attractive enemy captain and defect to another crew.
You swear you never will, but do as you’re told to watch for your brother. Maybe one day you’ll get to properly meet Law, you’re quite curious about the young man.
+!+
“Another one?! Are you kidding me, Dragon?!”
You’re three years old when you wake up to your grandfather yelling at someone in the middle of the night. Normally Garp is sure to keep things quiet so you, his sweet little princess angel granddaughter, can sleep peacefully. He’d leave early in the morning once your nanny showed up for the day, returning before dinner so he had the evenings with you before you had to be off to bed, to do the day over again the next morning. It’s rare for you to stay up late or wake up early, but the few mornings you’ve woken up before he left were some of Garp’s favorites.
You quietly slip out of your bed, blanket in your hand as you rub your eyes and go to the door, opening it just enough to see what’s happening. Garp is there with someone in a green cloak, you can’t see the other person���s face, but listen anyway.
“He’s the last one, there won’t be anymore.”
“You said [Y/N] was going to be the only one!”
“Things happened.”
“Obviously something happened, babies don’t appear out of thin air!’
You tilt your head, the man in the cloak catching your eye, which makes you shy away behind your doorway, glancing away before back to him as he looks to Garp again.
“Take care of them.” He goes to leave and is gone before Garp can even stop him.
“Dragon, wait--! That…damn idiot.”
“Grandpa?”
Garp is surprised to hear your voice, turning around once he closes the door, giving you a smile while you start to focus on the bundle he's holding.
“Hey there, princess, what are you doing up?”
“I heard yelling…”
Nodding, Garp apologizes as he picks you up, letting you settle on his free arm. “Sorry about that, angel. Just… an unexpected visitor.”
“Oh…”
Garp sees you staring more at the bundle of blankets in his arm than at him, and he sighs a bit, taking you to the living room and setting you on the couch, before showing you how to position your arms as he sets the now squirming bundle in your arms.
“[Y/N], this is your baby brother. His name is Luffy.”
How unexpected! You’ve never thought about having a sibling, just enjoying your childhood and life with your grandpa, but seeing this tiny little boy in your just as small arms makes you grin while you look at him. Dark black hair and just as dark eyes, scrunched up little face and tiny hands in fists while he starts to fuss and whine.
“Luffy…”
+!+
Luffy…
You hope your prayers aren’t going unheard, that Luffy will return to you safely. Ace’s death has long passed, but you’re more worried about your little brother than anything else right now. You’d both been sent off to Amazon Lily by Kuma, but after they’d all agreed to let you both stay, and Boa Hancock seems to have fallen in love with him, Luffy left you there to go rescue Ace, that was nearly three weeks ago now, you think. You want him back, both of them, but want to see Luffy more than anyone else.
“Luffy’s returned, [Y/N]-san!”
“He has?!”
Marguerite nods and you quickly get up from your seat and run after her to wherever Luffy is. The newspapers kept implying he was dead, you were terrified you’d lost him and Ace that day, no updates from anyone apart from the papers cheering for the Navy’s alleged victory, for the deaths of Ace and Whitebeard. The Amazons, all so kind to let you stay while Luffy went to try and rescue Ace, were unsure of how to help you the last two weeks once Ace’s vivre card burned to nothing in your hands and made you nearly inconsolable.
Despite that, your prayers hadn’t gone unheard.
Once you’re at the beach that Luffy should be at, you notice immediately the big yellow submarine with the word DEATH on it and it freaks you out more than anything. You don’t know who owns it, but when you catch sight of someone you’ve only seen in person once, you worry that he’s done something to Luffy. You don’t say a word, but someone in a jumpsuit (boiler suit you think?) calls out “captain” just in time for him to turn towards you as you shove the older boy to the ground, placing yourself on top of him and your knife to his neck.
Part of you wishes it was poisoned right now, just in case this Trafalgar Law has done something to your brother.
“Where’s Luffy?!”
The knife you have at his neck doesn’t phase Law even a tiny bit, it’s the fact that someone so much shorter and smaller than him was able to catch him off guard and shove him to the ground the way you did. You’re angry for some reason, giving him a nasty glare but look like you’re about to cry on top of it, as he just stares at you, his crewmembers shouting for you to get off their captain before he raises a hand to stop them.
“Who—”
“Tell me, where is my brother?!”
Oh so that’s what’s wrong, that’s who you are. Whether you’re related to Luffy by blood or by ritual cup like Ace was, Law doesn’t know, but he’s sure you want reassurance you haven’t lost two brothers in one day.
“Are you [Y/N]?”
You turn your head to look over your shoulder at Jinbei, still glaring. “Who’s asking?!”
“I was friends with your brother Ace, he told me about you and Luffy while we were in Impel Down.”
“He…did?”
You’ve calmed down so quickly hearing Ace’s name, retracting your knife just slightly, while Jinbei explains things to you. You don’t move off of Law though, listening quietly, fighting the desire to cry more. You’ve done enough of that, you don’t want to anymore today.
Law doesn’t even try to move you off, knowing, like Luffy, you’re emotionally hurting right now. He doesn’t want to risk you slicing his neck either, even as Jinbei finishes telling you everything Ace did, and you still don’t move or look at Law.
“Ace hopes you find what you’re looking for.”
You clench your jaw a bit at first, before smiling sadly and nodding, thanking Jinbei for the information before Law speaks up.
“If you get off me, I can take you to Straw Hat-ya.” 
You blink, finally looking back to Law, and you feel your face burn with a blush when you realize your position and scramble to get off him, apologizing the whole way while he shakes his head. Once he’s on his feet, Law let’s you onto the Polar Tang and leads you down the hallway to the infirmary, updating you on Luffy’s condition the best he can with the knowledge he has.
“If he pulls through this, the most you’ll have to worry about is his mental health.”
“Mm.” You nod, grabbing Law’s arm as he stops to open a door, making him look back at you. “I apologize for shoving you down.”
“I’ve been through worse,” Law shrugs, you could tell just from looking at him, though he does smirk a bit at you, “Never had a girl push me down and hold a poisoned knife to my neck before though.”
“It wasn’t poisoned,” you almost shout, but keep your voice down to not wake Luffy, “…this time…”
He almost laughs, but when you see Luffy finally, you’re instantly but his side, taking his hand and trying to keep yourself from crying seeing him in such a state. He’d been injured badly before, but never like this, never this close to death.
“Luffy…oh Luffy, I’m here, Lu,” you brush his bangs away from his face before kissing his forehead, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I should’ve come with you…”
Law doesn’t bother you for the next several minutes, stepping out so you have some privacy while you make sure Luffy is all right, your quiet prayers that he wakes soon and heals quickly don’t go unheard by the surgeon of death, who thinks back to his own sister and the prayers he’d once prayed for her health as a child.
As an older sibling, he gets it. While he still doesn’t know yet if you’re related by blood or sworn siblings, he does see how much you care for Luffy, and for your sake he hopes your captain wakes sooner rather than later.
+!+
You spend the next two weeks in and out of the Polar Tang, checking on Luffy and praying over him to wake soon, Law being the one to take you in and lead you back out most of the time, even though you’ve memorized the path already. The next time you leave Luffy to continue recovering, the friends you and Luffy have made from Amazon Lily have shown up in the time you’ve been with him, bringing food and drinks for you all. As you walk over to where he’s seated, Law offers you a drink that you reject with a shake of your head, sitting on the other side of the tree and bringing your knees up to your chest, hiding your face in them.
“Any signs he’s waking up?”
Shaking your head, you sigh and lean back, looking at the people around to distract yourself from worrying over Luffy.
“That your crew?”
“Yep. All twenty of them.”
You smile a bit, watching the Heart Pirates goof off while some have their meal and share drinks. It almost reminds you of the Straw Hats and makes your heart ache from missing them deeply.
“You have a nice group there.”
“They can be a handful.”
It makes you laugh a bit, nodding before you decide to stop wallowing and get back up, standing beside Law where he stays seated.
“Think you should hold this for now.”
Law tosses Luffy’s straw hat to you, and you grit your teeth a bit while you stare at it. You had wondered where it was, seeing it wasn’t around when you were with Luffy. You hold nothing but the highest regards for Shanks, he'd been an inspiration for you and Luffy when you were children, he helped end the war and helped Law save Luffy, but how you wish he’d shown up sooner. Maybe he could’ve helped Ace too.
“Thank you, for holding this.”
“Seems important to him, he’s not Straw Hat-ya without it.”
Smiling a bit, you nod. “He’s certainly not.”
“How do you—”
“I’m his big sister. I was three when our dad dropped him off with me and grandpa. We’ve been together almost every day since.”
“I see.”
You’re not entirely sure you trust Law, despite his saving Luffy, but you’re willing to give him a shot. At least let him know a bit about your history with Ace too, since he'd been there when you hadn’t been. Where Luffy asked you not to go.
“We met Ace and another boy when I was ten, and become sworn siblings with them soon after. The other boy died a few months later,” you grip the straw hat a bit tighter, but loosen your hold after being stabbed in the hand by sharp bits of straw, “a Celestial Dragon did it, we’ve not been fans of them since, so Luffy punching that one in Sabaody felt like some payback.”
“That makes sense.”
After a few minutes of silence, you finally realize something and turn to Law, sticking your hand out for him.
“Never introduced myself. Monkey D. [Y/N]. I don’t really use my last name though.”
Law takes your hand after a moment, nodding. “Trafalgar Law.”
“Thank you for saving my baby brother.”
“Don’t thank me until he wakes up.”
As if almost on cue, the door comes flying off the Polar Tang and you both whip your heads over, Law running ahead of you as you follow, and Luffy’s the next thing to almost fly out of the ship.
“Luffy!!”
You’re about to run to him before Law grabs hold of your arm, pulling you to himself and holding you still, even while you thrash around and listen to Luffy call for Ace. It breaks your heart to see him so upset, and you just want to console him, have him do the same for you, while you both continue to grieve for Ace. But Law won’t let you go to him, fear or concern your brother might hurt you while he fights through pain and raging emotions, before he disappears into the forest.
“Luffy, come back!!”
You barely register Jinbei asking what’ll happen if Luffy continues to flail and run off like that, before Law speaks and your heart almost drops to your stomach at the thought.
“If he continues to move around like that he could reopen his wound and bleed out. He’ll die.”
Quickly you turn around and Law isn’t at all shocked to see the tears welling up in your eyes as you grip his shirt, still holding Luffy’s straw hat.
“Don’t let that happen!! Please!! He’s all I have! Luffy is my whole world, I can’t lose him!!”
Unsure of what to do, especially once you lay your head on his chest while you cry, Law hesitantly wraps his arms around you and watches Jinbei go off to Luffy. Maybe he’ll be able to calm your brother down before he really hurts or kills himself.
You’ve both been through a lot the last few weeks, losing Luffy would break you more than losing Ace did to him.
+!+
“I’m sorry I got snot on your shirt.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash.”
You glance away and keep your eyes averted while Law changes shirts, having taken you onto the Polar Tang while Jinbei attempts to calm Luffy down. He didn’t fully mean to bring you into his room, but he never let go of your wrist while he led through the ship, making you sit down to hopefully calm you down. You do catch sight of his tattoos, wanting to say something but you don’t want to sound like a creep or a pervert at the same time.
“Why don’t you use your last name?”
Law surprises you once he’s changed shirts, this one almost the same as the yellow one he’d been wearing, but now a dark blue with a furry, feathery collar that you really want to pet, it looks soft. But again, you don’t want to seem like a creep.
For a moment you’re quiet, before you cross your arms and lean against the wall, shrugging.
“Why should I use the name of someone who abandoned me? I only have one memory of my father, and it was when he dropped off Luffy.”
“Your grandfather is Garp, isn’t he?”
“I love my grandpa like he’s my dad…but I don’t want to use my last name.”
Law nods a bit, seeming to understand. You felt abandoned, and wanted nothing to do with your biological father, instead viewing Garp in that light, which makes sense.
He'd viewed Corazon in the same light at one point.
“Your mother?”
“I know nothing about her. It’s like…” You start to bury your head in your knees again, almost digging your nails into your arms, “Like I don’t know who I am half the time…”
He gets that too, the same feelings after Flevance, after losing Corazon and leaving the Don Quixote family, leaving Doflamingo behind. Many times of looking in the mirror and asking “who the hell am I”.
Law is about to respond, before one of his crewmembers yells for you both that Luffy and Jinbei have returned to the beach, and you’re out the door so fast he isn’t able to believe it. He follows you out, not all surprised to see you and Luffy hugging each other tightly once he exits his ship.
Your bond with Luffy would be on full display the next few days, Law truthfully does wonder if he and Lammy would’ve been the same.
+!+
“I met some people who are friends with our dad.”
“You what?”
Luffy nods, giving you this information during dinner one evening, while you stare at him with such a blank look that Law thinks you’ve completely shut down. You didn’t say too much about your dad while you relayed some of your childhood to him earlier that day, apart from your perceived abandonment, but the look you have isn’t a very happy one.
“They’re were some cool people! They helped me escape that prison and…tried to help me save Ace.”
“So they were revolutionaries.”
“Yeah, they…they said they didn’t even know we existed.” Luffy scrunches up his face a bit while you frown, then pat his head.
“I’m not surprised, Lu.”
Luffy makes a face now, one that’s almost disgusted but annoyed but upset maybe. Law swears he isn’t trying to eavesdrop, you two are sitting too close to him anyway, you’re practically pressed up against his side. You both appear to have problems with your father, after the little bit you’ve told him and how you confessed to feeling abandoned by your parents. He wonders briefly is Luffy feels the same, even as your younger brother leans against you, pushing you fully into Law’s arm and making you glance up at him apologetically. He doesn’t move, once again doesn’t push you off, instead shifting his arm enough for you to be comfortable.
When Luffy falls asleep, you finally speak again.
“Luffy met our dad once, in Loguetown”
“Oh yeah?”
“Neither of us knew until grandpa told us…he didn’t even stop to say anything to me…”
“…I’m sorry.”
You shrug, watching Luffy. It still stung to know that, to know that Dragon didn’t even seek you out when he must’ve known you were on Luffy’s crew, that you’d never leave him to do this alone. When Garp told you he’d been in Loguetown that day, it felt like a knife in your heart that you didn’t even get to see or speak to your father.
Law, while he watches you start to drift off to sleep yourself, thinks about his own dad and Corazon at the same time. He had two fathers in the end, who both cared about and loved him deeply, both wanting to protect him as long as they could. He had his mother and Lammy too, you had Luffy and Garp, but it wasn’t enough for you, and it makes sense. To not have that connection with the people who gave you life, Law can’t even imagine how difficult that must be.
He ignores the slight snickers and comments from his crew when they see you leaned against him, even has he slightly tilts his head towards yours, not going all the way to lay his against your own. Even when Shachi makes a small comment about ‘love’ being in the air at Amazon Lily, Law doesn’t open his eyes to respond or even Shambles his friend away.
You won’t see each other again for a long time after this, most likely, so he’s willing to give you some comfort and allow his crew to see him a little softer than normal.
+!+
“Bye, thanks for your help, Traffy!”
Law tries not to grimace at the nickname Luffy’s given him over the last few days, nodding to you both as his crew also shouts goodbyes and wave to you both, you personally sad to see them leave. You’d spent so much time getting to know them while taking care of Luffy, that it felt like you were losing friends again. You’d probably see them one day, maybe as friends but maybe as foes, yet, you’d like to see more of Law and learn about him like he had you.
Luffy notices your face, the sad look it has, then looks back to the Heart Pirates as they start to disappear below deck. You’ve already chosen to stay on Amazon Lily the next two years and learn from the women there how to fight, but even watching you the last couple days, he could see your heart wasn’t in it. You more so loved using your knives and making poisons, he remembers the one he and Ace mistakenly drank thinking it was lavender tea from Makino. You weren’t an archer or a swordswoman, you much prefer close combat and paralyzing your enemies. Your work during Enies Lobby earned you your $25 million berri bounty, the Navy having trouble recreating antidotes from the one you’d left with a knocked out marine, they knew you’d be trouble one day.
With all that in mind, Luffy sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you in what you first believe to be a hug, before he lifts you up and you look at him. He’s got a grin that concerns you greatly as the color drains from your face.
“Luffy.”
He giggles a bit, nodding at you to brace yourself.
“Luffy, don’t you dare.”
“Have fun with Traffy for two years!!!”
He doesn’t give you anymore room to argue, flinging you towards the Polar Tang, making you yell for Law to pay attention, and he barely does in time to catch you, knocking both of you to the ground, several Heart Pirates making sure both of you are all right and that Law didn’t hit his head on anything.
You’re up and holding onto the railing, yelling at Luffy, “You’re an idiot!!!”
He pretends he can’t hear you, waving widely and shouting another goodbye, but to you this time.
Once Law is sitting up, realizing what the hell has happened, he sighs a bit while you look back to him.
“I’m sorry, Trafalgar. You can turn back and I’ll beat some sense into him!”
One of his crewmembers, you’re pretty sure it’s Shachi, leans down to ask him, “Should we? Kinda seems like Straw Hat wants us to take her along.”
He sighs, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair, shaking his head.
“You can stay.”
“…huh?”
You tilt your head in confusion, Law doesn’t think it’s cute at all no matter what that weird feeling in his chest is, while he stands up and nods at you.
“The Amazons might get angry if we return without permission, so we’ll just…take you along…and then bring you to Sabaody.”
Blinking several times, you’re still confused while some of his crew laugh, Penguin coming up to pat you on the back.
“You’re a temporary Heart Pirate! We’ll take care of you!”
Nodding, Law turns to go below deck.
“Say your goodbye, we’ll be going under shortly.”
While the rest of them follow after their captain, you turn back and see Luffy still waving at you, which makes you sigh and shake your head. You do smile though, you had wanted to continue getting to know Law and his crew, this was a perfect opportunity, and maybe he could help you with creating effective antidotes for your poisons.
“Luffy! Love you, see you in two years!”
“Okay!!!!”
Once you go below deck, Penguin being the one to wait for you in order to close the door properly, he starts to show you around a bit, the rest of the crew happy to see you’re staying with them for now, while Law keeps a slight distance unless he’s asked about something. You looking around and being so impressed by the submarine caused another weird feeling in his chest, and he fights to ignore it, especially when you thank him for letting you stay with a smile, which he waves off with an “It’s nothing”.
It's going to be an interesting two years.
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ceilidho · 1 year ago
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prompt: ex special forces ghost working as a “travel companion for hire” and reader hires him because she’s too nervous to go solo travelling
-
It’s not the first time you’ve been somewhere on your own, but it’s the first time you’ve realized that maybe solo trips aren’t for you. 
It’s in Germany, three drinks in and stumbling back to your hotel room, paranoia gripping you every time you pass a dark alleyway or take a right onto a deserted street. It’s the man walking your way on the same side of the street that has you stuffing your hand into your purse, clammy fingers gripped tight around your keys. 
On the flight home, you’re wiped. Beat. Finally untethered from a week’s worth of anxiety slowly reaching a boiling point. You’ve traveled on your own before, but it’s the first time you can remember being acutely aware of your vulnerability. Granted, before this trip, it’s not like you’d traveled all that much on your own, especially outside of the country. 
Ghost comes as a recommendation from a friend of a friend. You’d hemmed and hawed about the whole ordeal the Monday after getting home from your trip—working the front desk at an auto-body shop means that there’s no shortage of people to talk to. The guy picking up his car (fender bender, a wicked crack down the front that’s since been fixed) listens to you gripe with an absent look on his face, but you’ve learned to tune those out. People will listen to you even in spite of their indifference when there’s nothing else to do. 
“Y’know, I know a guy that does stuff like that,” he says, cutting you off halfway through another half-baked rant about airline fares these days. Your mouth puckers into something quizzical. Tell me more, it says without saying. “Ex-special forces. Left because of some medical thing, I think. Dunno. Anyway, he’s been all over the world—built like a brick shithouse, that one—and last I heard he was, uh, renting out his services.”
“Services?” 
“Like, he’d go with you, hang back while you do your thing, but basically the muscle. There to back you up if someone fucks with you.”
You’re just fresh enough off your vacation (an entirely miserable week, lest you explain the whole thing all over again) to give him your number. He promises to put you in touch with the friend of a friend who’ll put you in touch with one Simon Riley. He then gives you shit about the price on his bill and you knock ten percent off begrudgingly because the piece of paper with your number written on it is still crumpled in his palm.
No good deed goes unpunished or whatever.
“He’s not actually in the country right now,” Laswell, the friend of a friend, explains over coffee, Biscoff cookies spread out on a little tea plate between the two of you. “Or the continent.”
“Where is he?”
“For the rest of the month? Indonesia. He’s supposed to be back on the ninth. Should I let him know that you’re interested in his services?”
It’s a toss up at first. The thought of sacrificing your dignity (he would be more or less your babysitter) for adventure is tricky. With the way the dates line up—when you plan on traveling and when he gets back to the UK—you also won’t have much time to make his acquaintance before setting off. 
But there are places you want to go, sites you have scribbled down in a pocket-sized notepad folded up in the inner lining of your backpack. So you give her your permission and promise to join her and her wife for dinner sometime (repayment, and also it’s only been a few months since you moved, so you currently have a dearth of friends in your life anyway). 
The first time you see him when he stops by your workplace, you can’t help the double take. It just doesn’t seem possible. You know from Laswell and the guy at the body shop that Ghost is ex-military, but you’d been expecting some buzz-cut, slightly smarmy army reserves guy, maybe six-foot and decently muscled. What you don’t expect is the tatted beast that’s near twice your size. Only the top half of his face is exposed, the rest hidden beneath a black mask; you think briefly of asking him about it, but chicken out under his withering stare.
He doesn’t seem impressed when he meets you. “What’s your list?”
“Um…just around Europe. I haven’t thought about it too much.”
He stares down at you. “You wanna hire me just to run around the continent?”
“I haven’t thought about it!”
“Well, best give it a think fast, doll. Haven’t got all day for you to figure it out.”
You do have to think fast. He doesn’t leave until you’ve spelled out exactly where you want to go, until he’s watched you book plane tickets over your shoulder, heavy at your back while sweat beads at the nape of your neck. He’s entirely too intimidating to be looming over you like that. 
You watch him whip out his phone and fire off a couple of texts; your phone pings with an email telling you that you’ve been reimbursed for his flight and when you protest, he brushes you off by saying that he’ll invoice you for everything at the end of your trip.
Then what was promised falls into place. Free of burden, free of anxiety or restless energy, new possibilities open up to you: countries where you don’t speak the language; countries where the sites you want to see are spread out across a wide enough area that it warrants having a man packed beside you in a too-small taxi, his thigh a hot line against yours; hiking trips through national parks, where you don’t feel like you might slip down a hill and twist your ankle, stuck without water or cell service. 
You only have two weeks worth of vacation, so you use them wisely. A week traveling across Switzerland and Austria, and then a week in Cairo to see the pyramids. 
Ghost hangs back most of the time while you traipse around and do your own thing. You can feel him at your back when you approach the stands where the local vendors have set up shop, perusing silver trinkets and jewelry, only returning to your side when someone stands too close to you. 
He fists a hand in a pickpocket’s shirt when they try for your purse, giving them a shake and sending them off. 
“You didn’t have to do all that,” you mutter in his direction as you watch the young man scurry away. Not sure if you’re blushing or sunburnt. 
“You hired me to deal with this shit my way. Don’t get mouthy now.”
You think it might be the former because while you might not be the best at reapplying sunscreen, Ghost has been gentle-parenting you this whole trip. He pulls you off into corners and growls down at you while squirting a dollop of sunscreen into the palm of his hand to spread across your face. You close your eyes when his rough hands trace over your face and breathe out heavily when he spins you around, big hands engulfing your shoulders and spreading down your back.
You don’t think it could get worse. It gets worse. 
He won’t spring for his own room. You stare at him in disbelief in the lobby of the two star hotel where you’ve booked a room with a single bed. There’s a vending machine in the corner of the lobby that only sells coke (all of the other buttons are broken). One of the ceiling lights flickers on and off, an ominous buzz filling the room. Ghost doesn’t so much as blink.
“You didn’t tell me—I didn’t know that was my job,” you rebuff, anxiety a fist in your throat. You’ve already asked the front desk for another room, but they’ve been sold out for weeks, the woman at the front desk informed you with no small amount of pity. It’s the busy season; even two-star hotels get booked up in the dog days of summer. 
He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Never had to before. My job isn’t to book shit.”
“I sent you my itinerary.” 
“That’s not how I work, love. Where’s your room?” 
It’s nothing short of humiliating to have him follow you back to your shabby little hotel room. Your hands shake when you unlock the door, opening it to something no bigger than a closet. You’d purposefully gotten a smaller room than you usually would, anticipating the cost of Ghost's invoice at the end of your trip. No good deed goes unpunished. 
He ushers you into the room with a hand on your back, shutting the door behind him. You flick on the only light in the room, a bulbous thing hanging from the ceiling. No bedside lamp. 
When he settles on the end of the only twin bed in the room, the bedframe groans under his weight. Your hands are already clammy. He’s already making himself at home, unbuckling his belt with a single hand; it makes you almost dizzy to look over at him so you try desperately to avert your eyes.
“At least wait until I’m in the other room,” you hiss, rifling through your suitcase faster to get your clothes for after your shower. 
“Quit moping, love,” Ghost scolds, resting back on his elbows and toeing off his boots. “We’ll make it work. Just gonna have to get comfortable together.”
You scurry off to the bathroom with your pajamas clutched tight to your chest, paying no attention to the fact that he doesn’t sound as upset as you thought he might.
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luxaofhesperides · 1 year ago
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Dancing in the rain ; requested by @wandixx!
He hadn’t been expecting the Signal to chase after him. It is, after all, well after midnight, and he had seen the vigilante out earlier during the day. 
Maybe the Bats are understaffed tonight, he muses as he leaps over the rooftops, a wild grin on his face. Being on the other side of a chase is a lot of fun, he’s discovering. He can see why Selina enjoys it so much.
Though, it probably has to do more with who’s chasing her than it is the chase itself.
But Danny’s become a bit of an adrenaline junkie after a few years of being a hero, fighting ghosts and governments. He’s not a hero anymore, especially not in Gotham, but being Catwoman’s partner in crime is way more fun than being responsible for everyone’s safety.
It’s like he’s doing anything bad, either. Selina can steal whatever she wants; if they couldn’t protect things against her, then should they really have it? Danny doesn’t focus on jewelry or gems. No, he takes ghost artifacts or items contaminated with ectoplasm back to the realms where they won’t cause problems to any humans. There are enough ecto-contaminated people in this world, solely from Amity Park. Best not to let that number grow.
So here he is, leaping over rain-slicked rooftops and only using a little bit of flying to keep ahead, holding a cursed pocket watch that a ghost had requested he return to them, with the Signal chasing after him, disappearing into shadows and popping up unexpectedly. 
“Stray! Get back here!” Signal yells, and Danny takes a moment to spin on his heel to face the vigilante to stick his tongue out at him, then backflips away.
“I didn’t even steal anything important!” he returns, tossing the pocketwatch in the air ahead, then jumps up to catch it and scales his way up to the roof of the next building. 
“Seriously,” Signal says, suddenly in front of him. “Stop running and we can talk this out.”
“Woah!” Danny tries to get around him, trips over his own feet, and crashes into the Signal’s chest. 
“Careful, there.” He looks up to see the Signal’s smile, and he absolutely can not be blamed for having his half dead heart skip a beat. He’s in the arms of a hero who’s smiling at him so sweetly, what’s a guy to do? “Ready to talk now?”
Danny goes intangible for a moment, smoothly sliding out of the Signa’s grip. “Nope,” he grins, starting up the chase once again.
The rain isn’t very strong, and the drops feel cool against his face as he runs, getting a little more air with each jump as he uses more of his flight to keep ahead. He can hear the Signal chasing after him again, heavy footsteps that start and stop unpredictably as he travels between shadows. 
Just to be safe, Danny stashes the pocket watch inside his chest, leaving his hands free to grab onto the rough brick of the walls and scale them up, aiming to go higher and higher. Maybe if he finds a good building, he can dramatically fall off the edge and fly away invisibly. 
“Got you!” 
The Signal pops up out of the wall and grabs Danny, who yelps and tries to pull his arms away. The Signal is too strong, and his tight grip on Danny’s wrists is warm against the chill of the rain. 
They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other as they try to catch their breath. And then, “Is that any way to treat a guy?” Danny jokes, trying one last time to pull his wrists free.
“It is when it’s you,” the Signal replies. “Man, you sure know how to run.”
“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume for my next heist.”
“Seriously, can we talk?”
Danny eyes him curiously. The other Bats mostly tried to take back whatever it is he’d stolen that night, occasionally trying to get information from him. None of them had outright asked to have a chat with him. The Signal at least has some manners, compared to the rest of him. There’s no harm in sticking around for one conversation.
It helps that the Signal is cute, especially when he had saved Danny a few weeks ago. 
Sue him, he’s a bit soft on the Signal. Wouldn’t anyone be with their favorite hero?
“Alright,” Danny says, relaxing. “Go ahead. Talk.”
“Great! Okay, um.” The Signal bites his lip and Danny should really look away, but his eyes are fixed to his mouth. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute, during which Danny really begins to feel the chill of the rain. “Can I get less comments from the peanut gallery?” he says suddenly.
“What?” Danny laughs, confused.
The Signal sighs. “My comms are on. The others are being annoying. If they wanted to ask you questions, they should have caught you first.”
“Oh, protecting me from the big bad Bats? My hero,” Danny says sweetly, pretending to swoon. Except, the Signal follows his movements, releasing his wrists to catch him by the waist, holding him steady. Danny’s breath hitches, and from how close they are, he has no doubt that the Signal heard it. They freeze for a moment, then the Signal dips him like some fainting Victorian maiden.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind sweeping you up in my arms.” The smirk on his face only lasts a moment before he grimace and says, “I shouldn’t have said that on open comms. Man, they’re annoying. It’s not my fault I know how to flirt.”
Danny…
Well. Danny short circuits for a moment, running the words over his mind again, then blushes so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming off his cheeks. “You’re flirting?” he squeaks. “With me?”
“Flirting,” a new voice confirms, making them both jump, stumbling against each other as Black Bat hops down onto their rooftop. “Both shy and silly. I’m better.”
“You can’t even ask out Spoiler,” the Signal retaliates.
“She can’t even WHAT?” Spoiler yells as she also vaults herself over the alley below to join them. “You want to ask me out?”
Though she doesn’t say anything, Danny can practically feel Black Bat’s glare through her mask. The Signal winces, then says, “Oops.”
“Man, you can keep yourself busy, clearly Sig doesn’t need backup,” Spoiler says. “I need to go on a date with Black Bat. The rest of you suckers are on your own!” And then she grabs Black Bat’s hand and grapples away.
There’s a beat of silence, then Danny and the Signal share a glance and start laughing. 
“Well,” Danny says, “Good for them! Good for them.”
“They’re probably just going to Bat Burger.”
“And are you going to be treating me to a burger any time soon? I should be compensated for this conversation, you know.”
“Please, if I was taking you out on a date, it wouldn’t be to Bat Burger. I’d take you out dancing.”
It sounds like a date his dad would take his mom on. It sounds nice. Danny smiles and leans in closer to the Signal, taking hold of one of his hands. With the other, he puts Signal’s hand on his waist, then brings his own up to the Signal’s shoulder. 
“Why not dance with me now?”
Danny leads them in a few clumsy turns of a waltz, silently thanking Sam for forcing him to take a few ballroom dance lessons with her. The Signal seems a little dazed, following his lead, and when he lightly squeezes Danny’s waist, he shivers. 
Catwoman should be done with Batman soon. They had agreed to meet up at the newly opened Vintage Boutique in Diamond District, and he intends to beat her there. 
Reluctantly, Danny pulls away from the Signal with one final spin, and hops up onto the edge of the roof. “If you can find me during the day,” he says, “Then I’ll dance with you again. See you around, Signal!”
And with that, Danny hops backwards off the roof, free-falling towards the ground before he lets gravity lose hold of him and slips into invisibility, flying up just as the Signal peers over the edge, searching for him.
Unable to help himself, Danny floats closer until he can give the Signal a quick kiss on the cheek, then flies off, grinning wildly. 
He certainly can’t wait to see the Signal again. 
Maybe if he hired a few guys to pretend to rough him up while Signal’s out patrolling…
Well, either way, this cat is already half dead so he can jump straight to satisfaction bringing him back. And, hopefully, back into Signal’s arms again when they won’t be interrupted by other Bats. 
He’s already looking forward to it.
. . .
[send me a ghostlights prompt!]
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