#it took me two hours to color these and it still doesn't look good

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 4,782

Warning: cursing, asshole Toji, mentions of blood, physical altercations—👀

A/N:The long-awaited part five! This was so satisfying to write. I hope you all enjoy it!! I think we have maybe one part left, maybe two. Omg! 🥹💚, If you want to be in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Red. Red was the only color Satoru saw as he dragged his suitcase. He'd never felt so angry! Hurt! Betrayed! The emotions swirled and festered like an infected wound.

He'd let his walls down with you. A mistake he would never make in his life ever fucking again. It didn't matter how desperate a voice would sound on the phone. And it wouldn't matter if he genuinely enjoyed talking to the client or if they gave him the butterflies.

Gojo Satoru would never allow himself to be put into a situation like this again. One where he got hurt. Where he mourned the loss of a girl he barely even knew. A girl that left a scar on him no one would ever see.

The thoughts continued to swell and build up in his mind as he bought himself a hotel room next to the train station. They built up like a typhoon, threatening to destroy everything in its wake, all the way to his room, where he collapsed on the bed. Satoru didn't like feeling this suffocating pain. He needed to distract himself, to talk to one of the only people he trusted in this world.

He needed Suguru.

With a few taps of his finger over his phone screen, Satoru stared at himself, praying his best friend was still up. Which he was. Satoru sighed in relief as Suguru’s face took up the screen. His best friend was propped up in bed, his face dimly illuminated by the lamp on his nightstand. He took one look at Satoru’s face and cocked an eyebrow.

“What happened?”

Satoru chuckled, covering his eyes with his elbow. “Is it that obvious?”

“You just called me three hours ago. You said, and I quote, ‘You’re going to love her. She's got the prettiest eyes. Her skin is fucking flawless. I wanna put her mouth on my mouth.’ end quote.”

“I didn't say that last part!”

“You didn't have to say it, Satoru.” Satoru didn't argue with that. “So, are you going to tell me what happened??”

“I—” he groaned, sitting up, “we, well, ya’ know—”

“Fucked?”

Satoru glared at his only best friend. “No!” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Well, we didn't go all the way.” God, he wished it had, but he was glad it hadn't.

“Okay? So, did she give you major blue balls? This isn't helping me decipher what happened.”

Although the pain was fresh and stung, Satoru rehashed the night's events. The kiss at the bar, you calling him after Toji showed up, and everything after. From your sudden confidence to the gentle caresses to the intense intimacy between you both. It had been so fierce, raw, and real. Satoru had never experienced kisses and caresses like yours; hell, your touch still lingered as he lay in bed ranting.

All of the chemistry he felt didn’t change the fact that he’d been hurt. He thought you were genuine, that you didn’t want to sleep with him just because of his good looks. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted to sleep with him because you felt the same spark that he did. A spark that would lead to sex, but from there, it might grow into something more! A relationship, the possibility of a future together.

But those stacks of cash changed it all.

The possibilities Satoru had been fantasizing about, wanting, came crashing around him when he counted the bills. You had been so unfazed by it. All you did was check your wallet before pulling out the bag with condoms in it. Your pitiful face when he asked about the money flashed in his mind. You had been incapable of telling him why you had all that money; you just stared blankly at it like you were trying to put two and two together.

Playing around like you didn’t know what was happening had set him off. Why would you have that much money in your purse? Conveniently, it was also the exact amount that he charged for sexual services. Services that Satoru didn’t typically provide. He had been honest with you. He didn’t like having sex with people that he didn’t know, so for him to find all that money, it set him off.

Satoru finished up his story, rubbing his hands through white hair. “So I left, and I missed the last train out. Could you pick me up in the morning? I want to get home as fast as I can.” His blue eyes darted towards his phone screen, where Geto was staring at him like he was an idiot. “What?” Satoru asked, looking at himself on the smaller screen. “Do I have something on my face?” His best friend let out the most extended, most profound sigh in the entire world.

“Are you a fucking idiot?”

“Huh?!”

“I said, are you a fucking idiot?”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed, eyebrows pinching together. “Why the fuck are you asking if I’m an idiot? Are your gauges too big? Did everything I say go through them and not into your ears?” He watched as Suguru rolled his eyes. “I just told you I found all that money in their bag! Right before we did the nasty! I confronted her, she couldn’t explain. That, to me, screams that she’s guilty, Suguru.” He gestured with his hand in front of him as if motioning toward the evidence before his face.

“Did you ever stop and think maybe she couldn’t answer because she was just as confused as you?”

“What?”

Suguru shifted, dark hair falling over his shoulders as he sat up. “Satoru,” he purred, “think about it. She left her bag where anyone could touch it while you two were—preoccupied.” Well, when he put it like that. “And how would you react if you found that much money in your wallet that wasn’t there before?” Satoru remained silent, not saying a word. “You claim she looked guilty because she couldn’t explain it. But what if she truly couldn’t? And you left before even giving her a chance to explain herself.” Yeah, he did; he left you crying at the inn.

Thinking back to how you ran after him, grabbing his arm, stumbling over your feet, would someone guilty do that? Try to explain themselves, beg for him to stop and listen.

“I-I don’t know how it got there, Satoru! Please! Please believe me!”

Your tear-filled eyes, the shuddering tremble in your voice, and the blatant way he’d coldly dismissed your attempts to clear things up had his stomach twisting. The fury that had been fuming deep at his core had blinded him. He didn’t even give you a chance to talk, to explain what had happened.

“I’m so fucking stupid.” He mumbled out, putting his phone down to scrub at his face. “Why didn’t I stop and listen?!”

“Because you like her.” There was something in the tone of Suguru’s voice that had Satoru glancing at his phone. “You genuinely like her Satoru, so when you assumed she just wanted to fuck you just as an escort and not as a potential lover, that broke your heart.” Satoru opened his mouth to argue. “Don’t try to deny it; you just bitched at me for like an hour like some school girl who just got dumped.”

”Fuck you,” Suguru chuckled, knowing Satoru’s words held no heat in them. “So what do I do now? Run back over there, tell her how sorry I am?”

”Well, honestly, if I were in her position, I would slam the door in your face. The whole ‘consider the orgasm, payment for the cancellation of my services’ was fucking harsh.”

”Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“Well, use that Gojo Sator charm and make it up to her.”

After hanging up the phone with Suguru, Satoru plopped down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. That red-hot rage had faded into regret. He should have listened to you; he should have stopped the second you grabbed his arm. Instead, he pulled away, refusing to listen to what you had to say.

He made you cry like you did when you told him about Toji.

Seeing you that upset had made him sick to his stomach. He thought, what kind of dick makes a girl cry like this? He hated people like that, people that were so cruel. Now the tables had turned, and he was the dick.

God, what are you doing right now? Were you still crying? Maybe you were pacing the room, thinking about what you would do since your wedding date just up and left you. How were you going to explain this to your friends and family? Or were you dreading the pathetic, woeful faces that would be on the faces of your friends and family when you told them he left? You had hired him to make this wedding easier to attend, but he had turned it into an even worse experience for you.

Gojo had been right about you crying. You were curled into a ball on the futon that still smelt like him. Your chest heaved as you screamed into his pillow, gripping it as you let the waves of anguish wash over you, pulling you deeper and deeper into the suffocating waters of despair.

You cried yourself to sleep, waking up with a numbness in your chest as the flashbacks from the night before plagued you. It had been perfect, too perfect. The butterflies, Satoru’s kisses, the pleasure. You felt so good about him, about the two of you, about yourself, to have it come crashing down around you in seconds.

It hurt being yelled at and screamed at and blamed for something you hadn’t done. The rage and betrayal in Satoru’s eyes burned into your mind, and his words sliced so deep into your skin that they touched your soul. You hadn’t been hurt like that since Toji broke up with you, and that had nearly destroyed you. You ran away from the pain, refused to talk to anyone, and stayed in bed for days. Your heart had been broken into a million different pieces, and it took you so long to put it back together. To allow yourself to live your life.

Luckily, your heart was stronger now, scarred and rough. The pain that it had undergone a year before had made it more durable and harder to break. This heartache was not going to destroy you this time around.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you exhaled heavily through your nose before pushing your hair out of your face. You could do this. You didn't need a wedding date to survive the next two days. You were fully capable of getting through this by yourself.

You put on a smile and got ready for your day. Everything hurt, but you would be able to get through it like you had done before. This heartache would not hold you down. You headed into the kitchen, greeting your family as they cleaned dishes from the morning breakfasts that had already been delivered to guests and discussed preparations for the next two nights.

Their voices were white noise as you pulled a bowl of peaches from the fridge. They asked if you were okay if Satoru felt okay since he wasn’t with you. Hearing them say his name stung, but it didn’t stop you from moving, washing peaches, and peeling them as you preheated the oven.

”He left.” You told the truth, not the whole truth, but you weren’t ashamed to tell them he left you. Their reactions varied from confusion and anger to stunned silence and disbelief. “I’ll be okay.” You assured all of them, urging them to go about preparations for the wedding. Right now, all you wanted to do was be alone, to bake the anger and sorrow out of your system.

They granted your wish, leaving you alone in the kitchen. The atmosphere was drastically different from the night before. You giggled and smiled as Satoru stood by your side; those beautiful, captivating blue eyes wandered, watching your hands move. The heat from his gaze alone had the kitchen so hot you thought every oven had been on when they hadn’t. Now, the only warmth that flooded the space was from the oven and stove as you cooked down the peaches in syrup.

You moved unthinkingly, cooking butter into three trays, before setting the stew pot of peaches off to the side. Mind and body numb as you focused on mixing your flour, sugar, and milk in a bowl, you never heard the footsteps behind you. It wasn’t until the timer on your phone went off that you turned, running into a firm chest. You knew the smell of fresh linen masked with musk, and it made you want to throw up.

Satoru rubbed at his neck, glancing down at you. Dark circles were under his eyes as he placed his sunglasses on his head. Even when he looked exhausted, he was still handsome, which irked you.

“Hey.” He spoke softly, like his voice alone would shatter you as if you were a porcelain doll. You said nothing, stepping to the side to turn your timer off. “Can we talk?”

You ignored him, taking out the trays of melted butter from the oven. You put cinnamon, baking powder, and salt into your batter before whisking it bitterly. Satoru moved, gently grabbing your elbow and stopping you from running further away.

“Please.”

“No.” You snapped, pulling away so you could continue to construct the dessert for the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Sweetie, please.”

“Oh my god!” You slammed the bowl down, turning to shove at Satoru's chest. “You fucking left! You left when I wanted to talk last night!”

“I know I did.”

His eyes never left your face, and his undivided attention only pissed you off more. “Well, guess what? I don’t want to fucking talk now.” Despite your dismissal, Satoru didn’t move. He stayed near your side, watching as your hands moved, putting the peaches on top of the batter. “Don’t you have a train to catch?”

“No, I have a wedding to attend—“

“The fuck you do.”

“You paid for me—“

“And you canceled your services!” Satoru grimaced as you all but threw the trays into the oven. “You paid me with an orgasm, remember?! Because I remember!”

He followed you as you headed to the sink with your dirty dishes. His hand gently grabs your elbow. “Look! Please listen to me.” He took the dishes from your hands, placing them in the sink. “I was an asshole last night, whatever this,” his finger gestures between your bodies, “it’s new and raw and real.” You barked out a laugh. “Stop, please. I messed up; I know I did. And I’m sorry for flipping out on you. But this is worth fighting over; I want to be with you.” His words were regretful; his face matched the panicked pain behind his voice.

That didn’t change the fact he’d hurt you. “Gojo.” The use of his last name had his heart crushed. “You did mess up, you hurt me.” You stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let’s be honest, this.” You mimicked his finger, gesturing between you. “This is never going to work, not after last night. I had my heart broken once after I was intimate with someone, and you knew that. You knew I didn’t want to have sex. I specified that several times. I put myself out there, out of my comfort zone, because I genuinely liked you. Now, well, let’s be honest: my heart has been broken twice now. So I’m going to ask you to leave.” Satoru swallowed hard, removing his glasses and putting them on the counter.

“Please don’t say that, please.”

“Go.” You pointed to the door, fighting back tears. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

He grips the counter before lifting his head to meet your teary eyes. “Okay,” he reached out, gently brushing away a stray tear, “I’m sorry for breaking your heart.” His gesture had your breath hitching as he turned, heading out of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.

The moment you were sure he was far enough that he couldn’t hear you, a shaky cry left your lips. You stumbled, your legs no longer wanting to hold you up. How dare he come back and apologize after breaking your heart the night before. If he didn’t apologize, things would have been so much easier for you. You could have grown to hate him, but seeing how upset he looked hearing the pleading tone in his voice, made you want to throw your resolve away to chase after him.

But would a relationship with him work?

He was an escort. People paid him to go out with him. Could you date him, knowing that’s what he did for a living? To be the woman waiting at home for him to come back?

He said he wanted to fight for this, for you and whatever this strange relationship was turning into. He wanted to be with you. So, did that mean he would give up on being an escort? Would he be okay with that? The questions flowed like a steady river through your mind as you sat on the kitchen floor. These were questions you would never get the answers to, all because you sent him away.

Footsteps entered the kitchen as you stared at the floor. You perked up, clenching your fists tight, digging your nails into the palms of your hands. Did Satoru come back? You tilted your head up, tears streaming down your cheeks, to find Toji smirking down at you. The last person on the planet you wanted to see.

”Why are you on the floor?”

”Why won’t you leave me alone?” You snapped as you pushed yourself off the floor.

Toji hummed, leaning over the counter as you went to the sink to clean your dishes. “Because I want to talk to you. But you keep avoiding me.” You threw the whisk into the sink, whirling around.

“You wanna talk? Fine, let’s fucking talk, Toji!” You shrugged a shoulder. “Not that there’s much to talk about, seeing that you’re the one that broke up with me. And last night, you made it painfully obvious that you didn’t want to be with me. So please tell me! What. The. Fuck. Is. There. To. Discuss?!” You screamed, putting both hands on your hips, glaring daggers at the first man who broke your heart.

“Fuck.” He laughed, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “You got feisty in the year that you’ve been away.” When he saw how you glared at him, he held up a hand. “Right, right, fine, I’ll talk.” He straightened his back. “But first, did you enjoy yourself last night?”

His words had your heart dropping into your stomach. “I-I’m sorry?” You asked, hoping that you heard him wrong.

”I asked how your night was. Finally, get dicked down?”

”What?”

”Oh, right, you didn’t know.” He strode forward, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefingers, forcing you to look into his dark eyes. “After you left, I got a job. I’m a PI, the best in the business.” You felt goosebumps rise against your skin as he leaned beside your ear. “I did a little research into this Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo business. It took a little digging, but I eventually found his profile in Escorts4you.com.”

You were frozen in shock and fear. “You knew?” Of course, he knew; he knew something was up the first night.

“To think my ex-fiancée hired a fucking escort to be her date to a wedding. I had a good laugh over it. But when I saw the prices, oof, I know you,” toji squeezed your cheeks, “a pathetic baker from a cafe could never, ever afford to get fucked by a pretty boy like him.”

“W-Wait—“your head spun, “wait, it was you; you put the money in my bag?”

“Ding-ding-ding,” He reached into his pocket, holding another wad of cash towards you. “¥480,000, the money you used to cover rent when I was out of a job.” He put the money on the counter behind you. “I’ve been wanting to pay you back. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You put—you put the money—“

“But seeing that you were able to buy a high-end escort for an entire week, I figured that maybe you wanted more. So I figured I’d give you half to get the full escort experience.”

“It was you—-“

Toji smirked, gently patting your cheek. “Yep, I found your bag in the kitchen last night. Put half the money in there.” Your ears started ringing as he pulled back. “So tell me, did he fuck you as good as I did? Did he make you scream and cry like me~?” He pulled back, smirking down at you. “Or have I ruined all other men for you?”

Ruined? The only thing he ruined was what you and Satoru had. He fucked this up! It was all because of him!

“You son of a bitch!” You screamed, slapping him across the face. Toji stumbled back, grunting as he cupped his cheek in shock. “Do you know what you did!?” You slapped him again, harder.

“Ow, what?!”

“You ruined everything!” He took several steps back as you grabbed the plastic flour container, throwing it at him, which he dodged. “Yes! I hired Satoru! But I wasn't going to sleep with him!” You tossed a spatula at him, trying to close the distance so you could hit him some more. “But what was supposed to be a job turned into something more! I liked him! I liked him, you asshole!”

Toji dodged a cookie tray, “Well, tell him that!” You rushed forward, slamming your fists against his chest.

“He found the money! And he assumed I was going to pay him to sleep with me!”

“Stop it!” He snarled, grabbing your wrists, forcing you to cease your assault. “Look, I didn’t know you legitimately liked the guy!”

You snapped, yanking your wrists free before kneeing him in the crotch. Toji gasped out, hands reaching down, cupping himself as he stumbled. Vision blurring with tears, you weakly slapped at his shoulders.

“You’re always ruining everything! You broke my heart! I didn’t get to pastry school, and I lost a nice guy because of you!” A gut-wrenching sob made its way through you. “Did you stop to think that maybe I was happy?!”

Your heart was pounding, thundering in your ears as you cried, and cried, and you kept crying as Toji straightened. “Look, I didn’t know it was serious. But if you keep hitting me, we’re going to have a major fuckin’ problem.”

He hissed his vague threat through his teeth. Hearing that only pissed you off more. So you did what anyone else would to the man who broke your heart and kept butting in your life. You pulled your hand back and slapped him as hard as you could. He winced, bangs shielding his eyes as he growled.

When he snapped in your direction, he received another slap. It was when you went in for a third slap that Toji’s hand flew up, grabbing your wrist and squeezing it. He crowded you against the wall, scowling down at your smaller form.

“I told you to stop fucking hitting me!”

“I hate you! Let me go!”

“Are ya’ going to stop hitting me?!”

“No!”

“Then tough shit!”

You kicked at his shins, but he easily avoided you. You were going to kick his ass, beat him into a bloody pulp—once you freed yourself. But all the fight vanished as you saw two ivory fingers tap Toji on the shoulder. He turned around, only to be knocked back by a powerful punch. You stared at Toji, who spit out blood, his gaze locked on the man standing at six-three. Satoru shook his hand, fingers brushing over his knuckles as he glared.

His lip twitched, revealing sharp canines as he stepped forward. “Oh, you think that hurt? Wait until I get a good hit in.” He clenched his fists into tight balls, continuing to close the distance between them.

“Oh, you don’t wanna fuck with me. I’ll fuck up your face so bad you’ll never get a ‘client’ again.”

“Why you—”

“Wait!” You yelled out, jumping between the two men and holding your arms out. “Stop! Stop it!”

Satoru looked down at you as if you’d lost your mind, his momentum stopping. Toji kept moving until your fingers grazed his chest. With a deep sigh, you looked up at Satoru, giving him a gentle smile, one that had his cheeks flushing.

“I got this.” the softness of your voice was the only convincing he needed. With a curt nod, he crossed his arms over his chest as you turned to look into Toji’s eyes. “You have fucked with my life for the last time.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep!” You grinned wide and warmly before punching him directly in the nose. “Try that shit again! I dare you! I fuckin’ dare you!!”

“Oooh!” Just as you went in for another punch, you were picked up, and Satoru carried you out of the kitchen. “Easy there, I don’t want you getting arrested.”

You flailed in his arms, “I’m serious, Fushiguro!” Your ex groaned, cupping his hands over his bleeding nose as you jammed your finger at him. “That was the last time you’ll ever interfere with my life!” You glanced over your shoulder, watching Satoru grab his forgotten sunglasses off the counter before heading down the hall.

“Oh!” You heard your mother squeak out as Satoru passed them. “What’s going on? I thought you said Satoru left!”

Satoru grinned, turning to face her as he passed. “Me leave her?” He shifts, throwing you over his shoulder. “I’m not making that mistake again.” You squeak as he bounds down the hall.

“W-Wait, the cobblers! Mom, take them out of the oven!”

The halls were a blur as Satoru carried you to the room you both had shared. Only once inside, he gently places you down, taking several steps back, giving you space. You remained silent, nursing the hand you had punched Toji with.

“Do you want some ice?” Satoru said softly, eyes following you as you sat down on the futon, thumb rubbing over your red knuckles.

“No.”

You could hear him wince at your stiff tone. “Are you sure?” He slowly approached you, not moving too fast, as if you would bolt if he did. “It could make baking hard if you don’t take care of it.” Your heart slowly crawled up your throat as he sat before you, crossing his legs.

“You know what I want?” Satoru inhaled slowly, holding it for the briefest of moments before exhaling.

“No, what is it you want?”

You slowly lifted your head, eyes locked on his. He was stiff, pulse visible in his throat as he waited for you. Seeing him like this, like a child waiting to be reprimanded, had you swallowing hard as you opened your mouth, the words leaving Satoru’s eyes wide as he rocked back at your request.

“You want what?”

Tag List/ (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

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[wonwoonlight]

when he finds out you're sick through the internet

A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!

[part 2]

Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.

For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.

Seungcheol is patient and rational.

Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.

But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.

So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.

He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.

He wants to get angry.

At who, he’s not sure.

At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?

Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.

The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.

Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.

He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.

“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”

It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.

“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”

Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.

Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress. 

You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.

“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.

He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.

You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.

Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.

Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.

“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.

You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.

Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.

You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.

“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward. 

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”

“But–”

“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart.  He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good night, Cheol.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in my dream?”

“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”

He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.

cont.

#seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #scoups fluff #seungcheol oneshot #seungcheol fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen scenario #seventeen au #seungcheol angst #seventeen angst #scoups angst #seventeen imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines

[twogyuu]

[1149]

pairing: jihoon x fem!reader (ft roommate mingyu, mentions of pi cheol in and chun sun aka me jk jk )

synopsis: in which, you get sick and jihoon asks mingyu for help.

genre: fluff, comfort newly established relationship

warnings: reader is sick, profanity, unedited (this is literally just word vomit)

wc: ~1.9k

. . . .

So, to be fair, Jihoon has never done this "boyfriend" thing before - at least as a young adult. He dated someone temporarily in middle school and kind of talked to someone in high school, but this was different. Two young adults with mutual feelings that may or may not have took too long to confess on both ends and now are in a committed exclusive relationship, where you care about each other a lot - sometimes, maybe more than themselves. You've gotten to the stage of going over to each other's places almost daily, sleepovers when they can squeeze them in, sometimes you visit him at work - heck! You hold hands in public now and even your non-mutual friends are meeting, and soon enough when your birthday rolls around, he'll meet your parents.

As new as everything is and Jihoon begrudgingly, but openly and patiently, taking it all one step at a time, there are just some things he doesn't know how to handle - like you not texting him your usual 'good night' message this evening.

He's sitting in his living room, phone wedged between his thick fingers, jiggling his foot as he clicks the screen on and off, awaiting your message. He attempted to distract himself earlier by turning on a re-run episode of Demon Slayer, but his eyes were glued to his phone. The time almost reads midnight - you usually text him at 11:15 like it's clock work.

Should he text you?

Should he call?

It wouldn't be too overwhelming, right?

Jihoon fiddles with his phone, opening and closing the messaging app. His thumb hovers over his keyboard as he hesitantly starts typing out a word: H-i.

No - that's dumb!

Hey.

Delete, delete, delete.

Ugh! When did this get so hard.

"What are you pulling your hairs about?" Mingyu asks from behind, eliciting a slight jump from Jihoon. The taller man settles into the empty cushion beside him, turning off the TV - the bright colors from the show giving him a headache after staring at his computer screen for hours as he finished up a work project.

"Nothing," Jihoon grumbles. Unconsciously, he runs a hand through his dark locks once more.

Mingyu points at his head. "Doesn't seem like nothing - you're going to to go bald at this point."

Jihoon resists at first, letting several beats pass. He squirms in his seat; Mingyu sitting back on his side of the couch, getting comfortable and amused at Jihoon fighting himself.

"it's just . . . uh," Jihoon shakes his head furiously, "Ugh - this is so stupid."

"This is stupid or are you stupid?" Mingyu presses.

"Shut up - you're so damn irritating," Jihoon shoves his knee.

"Well," Mingyu stands up and shrugs, "All I was doing was trying to help."

Jihoon finally caves, letting out a heavy sigh. "Y/N hasn't texted 'goodnight' yet," he mutters.

Mingyu clamps a hand dramatically over his mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick - oh, hey! Ow!"

The couch throw pillow smacks Mingyu in the face, Jihoon's cheeks burning as he turns to face away from his friend. "Fucking asshole."

"I'm kidding!" Mingyu scurries over to him. He tries to shoot Jihoon an apologetic look, though the latter refuses to meet his eye.

"Maybe, you should call her? If you're that worried - text might take too long for her to reply," Mingyu suggests.

Jihoon's eyes flicker over to him then back, still scowling. Mingyu does his best to suppress his grin threatening to stretch across his lips. It's actually so dang cute - Jihoon caring so deeply for someone. Not that he didn't before, but never so openly - or as open as Jihoon can be.

"it wouldn't be like . . . weird, right?" Jihoon mumbles.

Mingyu shakes his head furiously, thrusting his phone closer to Jihoon as to urge him to dial your number.

"I'll be right here," Mingyu flutters his lashes.

Jihoon jerks his arm away, letting out a brisk 'tsk,' before turning to his device. His eyes linger on your name, finger hesitantly held above it.

Tap.

And it starts to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And-

"The person you are trying to call is not available at this time. Please leave a message at the tone-"

Frantically, Jihoon turns to Mingyu, eyes wide and body tense.

"What?" Mingyu asks.

"She didn't answer!" Jihoon exclaims. "What if, what if-"

"Whoa, whoa - calm down," Mingyu tries, "How about we try calling her again?"

"You're right," Jihoon nods, trying to calm his nerves. "She might just be in the bathroom or something."

He tries once more and this time, someone does pick up - but it's not you.

"Hello?"

"Hello?"

Jihoon looks nervously towards Mingyu.

"Is . . . Y/N there? This is . . . Jihoon, their, err, um . . . boyfriend," he explains.

"Oh!" the girl on the other line exclaims, "I'm so glad you called actually! It's Jihyo! Y/N's roommate."

"Ah," Jihoon let's out a small breath. "Hey Jihyo - is she . . . okay?"

"Yes, but no," Jihyo replies hastily. He hears padded footsteps as if Jihyo was rushing to another room. "Um, yes - she's safe, but no - she's actually sick."

"Sick?"

"Yeah," Jihyo's tone grew blue, "She ran a fever earlier today and had some nausea. Not sure if it's a bad stomach bug or the flu or something."

"Oh my god."

"I know!" Jihyo continues, "I tried to tell her to call you, but she refused!"

A sick feeling swirls in Jihoon's chest. "Why?"

The simple, one-worded question seems hard to get out.

"I'm not sure," Jihyo confesses. "I think she just didn't want to worry you."

"Oh," Jihoon nods slowly, even though Jihyo can't see him. His shoulders slump, feeling disappointed. Hurt.

Did you think he was weird? Why didn't you tell him?

"If you want, you can come by - actually you should. I'll stay up for a bit and let you in," Jihyo offers.

"Um," Jihoon scratches his head. "A-are you sure? What if she doesn't like it?"

"Does it matter?" Jihyo chuckles. "Your her boyfriend and you were worried enough to call."

"Toche," he breathes out.

"Think about it and text me," Jihyo advises. "Don't be too long."

. . . .

"Y/N . . . she's sick," Jihoon tells Mingyu.

"Oh," Mingyu dips his spoon into his yogurt. "So . . . are you gonna do anything about it?"

"Should I?" Jihoon asks. "Can I?"

"I mean, yes, you can," Mingyu shrugs. "But do you want to? And if so what?"

Jihoon rubs his neck sheepishly. "I want to do something, but I don't know what. She's sick, Mingyu, and my girlfriend. What would a good boyfriend do?"

"Oh my god," Mingyu shakes his head. "Please don't tell me you're that hopeless!"

"It's not that!" Jihoon argues back, "I just don't want to be weird."

"Caring about your girlfriend and wanting to see her is not weird," Mingyu scolds. However, he's always tapping away on his phone, doing something. "Auntie Sun? Hi! Mingyu - say, I apologize for calling so late to closing time, but could you prepare some of that soup for me? It's a bit of an emergency - I'll have a friend pick it up. His name is Jihoon." Mingyu nods, a few 'mhm's' falling from his lips before he quickly thanks her and promises her a nice tip for the last minute order and hangs up.

"What are you doing?" Jihoon asks slowly.

Mingyu pulls his wallet out his back pocket and thrusts them into Jihoon's hands. "Auntie Sun's restaurant is down the street and around the corner - go one more block, and you should see it. There's a ginormous, kinda creepy-looking, smiling daisy on the sign. Her weirdly chirpy husband, Cheol In, should be sitting outside singing some trot song. Pick up the soup and bring it over when you go to her place."

"That's weirdly specific," Jihoon grumbles, accepting the bills.

"Yeah, they're kind of a weird couple with a weird routine," Mingyu sits back down, returning to his yogurt. "But you know what? It's fine - you know why? Because they love each other."

Jihoon narrows his eyes, "Are you trying to say something?"

Mingyu sighs. "Jihoon, I know this is your first relationship in a while - a serious one. And, even though you won't admit it, everyone can see how much you like and care about her. Don't hold back and fuck it up just because you're nervous about being 'weird' or whatever you're doing."

This takes Jihoon aback for a moment, fingers curling slowly over the bills. He takes this in, letting the words sink in - because Mingyu was right and he has a point. In the name of love (or whatever this is), he has to put aside his own insecurities, and not only be open and patient in doing things with you, but for you - understanding you.

"Also?" Mingyu pipes up once more, "Trust me - she does not think you're weird at all."

. . . .

Your sleeping wrapped like a burrito in your comforter when Jihoon enters your room. Hot soup in one hand because he was to eager to see you to set it down, he stands above you at your bedside, feeling a weight lift off his chest. You looked uncomfortable, yes, possibly having a bad dream with the way you wince and sweat beads along your brows, but you were alive and safe.

Jihoon places the soup on your nightstand, crouching to eye level. He reaches for the small washcloth and swipes at your skin carefully. Your eyes suddenly flutter open, sending Jihoon onto his butt in surprise.

"Jihoon?" you groan.

"H-hi," he manages as he clutches his chest. "It's me?"

You moan once more, rolling onto your back. "What are you doing here? Did Jihyo call you?"

"I called you and Jihyo picked up," Jihoon explains, rising and adjusting himself so he could better see you. He smooths a loose fringe of hair. "I was worried - you didn't text to say 'goodnight.'"

You try to hide from him, burying yourself under the covers. "I didn't want you to see me like this!"

He chuckles half-heartedly, gently fighting you to come out. "Why? You're sick."

"Exactly," you mutter, too weak and finally letting him win. You're pouting, tears welling in your waterlines.

Jihoon returns your pout. "I'm kind of hurt, if I'm being honest."

Your expression softens and you wait for him to explain further.

"I'm your . . . boyfriend," Jihoon states, "Isn't this what boyfriend's are for? Taking care of you and all? Especially when you're sick?"

You slump back, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "I mean . . . I guess. I'm just kind of . . . embarrassed? I dunno."

"Babe," Jihoon chuckles, moving closer to you. He reaches for your hand, enveloping it in his. "I want to know and be here when you're sick."

"I look and feel terrible though," you whine.

"Not like I haven't seen you with morning breath and hair sticking up funny in the morning," Jihoon teases.

"Jihoon!"

"Just shut up and come here."

He doesn't give you much of an option, wrapping you in an embrace.

"You're going to get sick!"

"I don't care," Jihoon squeezes you tighter. "I mean, I kind of do, but you'll take care of me then."

Relaxing into his hold, you finally reciprocate, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Next time, please tell me, okay?" Jihoon asks softly. "I wasn't kidding when I was kind of hurt. I want to know."

You let out a deep breath, lids growing heavy as you let the comfort of his warmth seep in.

"Okay."

#woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff

[ghosts-cyphera]

Drawing Trust

╰﹒to comfort a young girl who has just lost her entire family, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley borrows out the two things that bring him reassurance. his mask, and you.

warnings/content: themes of death/blood/violence, but overall just a fluffy little thing. gn!reader; simon taking off his mask for the first time in front of you; word count 2.3k

The maroon carpet was rough against the palms of your hands, as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the dimly-lit office. The night had fallen hours prior, and you stifled a yawn, as the quiet minutes stretched out: the only sound to be heard was the scribbling of the slightly dry ballpoint pens and the deep breathing of the concentrated child sitting beside you. 

With her tongue nipped between her teeth and her eyes slightly squinted, she drew on the finishing touches and turned to you.

"Done."

"Look at you go." You smiled, as you leaned over to take a look at the blue, black, and red lines. The blue lines formed a box to which four black sticks, each with four smaller sticks at their tips, were connected. Two small circles, which you assumed were eyes, and a red curve right underneath them formed a down-turned pout on the features of the box-bodied stick figure.

"Leila," you gasped, as you turned to the little girl. "I was about to claim this to be yet another masterpiece, but I've just now seen that the mouth—"

She leaned in to take a look.

"It's upside down." You furrowed your brows. "This can't be right, can it?"

The little girl grinned. "It's right because he's sad."

"Sad?" You raised a brow. "But how could anyone be sad when they have such a neat t-shirt on? The blue really highlights the color of his eyes, you know. An awesome choice on your end."

"I only had three colors."

"Still," you chuckled, as you pulled out another sheet of white printer paper and handed it to her. "Only a true artist knows where to use each color. What do you say we play 'draw-and-guess'?"

"He's sad because his family is dead."

Alright. No draw-and-guess.

Leila's fingers closed once more around the ballpoint pens to continue the drawing. Now, connected to the smaller sticks—the fingers of the box-bodied stick figure—something resembling a black banana was being drawn. 

Yet, you knew.

"He's sad because he killed his family." Her tiny little fingers wrapped around the red ballpoint pen, as she started to add splatters of blood, much in the shape of flowers, all around the paper. "They weren't really his family, not really. But they were as good as his real family, Mama said. He had been with them ever since he was a boy, but Mama said he became really bad and that's why he was with the cartel who wanted him dead, and his family dead. So then he killed them."

Indeed. It had not been a black banana that the target had been holding when your squad had found him a couple of hours prior with a self-inflicted bullet wound to the temple. The whole mission had been one big shitshow: suspects and leads turning up dead around one corner and another, until… 

Until.

"But he didn't kill me, which is nice because I like hanging out with you." Leila's voice was matter-of-factly as she flashed you a warm smile. So matter-of-factly, indeed, that if she had not just heard his entire foster family dying, you might have laughed at the cheery tone of her voice.

"Oh, yeah?" You managed, as you gently nudged her with your shoulder. "Well, that makes two of us then, doesn't it? I haven't had this much fun since I sneaked into the office of my boss to steal his stash of candy."

Her eyes suddenly beginning to twinkle, Leila raised her gaze to meet yours: her drawing now lying long forgotten on the carpeted floor. "Candy?"

This you did know how to handle.

"Mountains, and mountains, and damn mountains of it," you confirmed with a grin. "I'm afraid I took a little more than I should have, but I'm sure there's still some left. Wanna go sneak around and see if we can find some of your favorites?"

"Maybe they have Three Musketeers," she nodded her head, as she hopped up from the floor. "Or Reese's. When it was Halloween, I ate so many Reese's that my poo—" Her words suddenly died down on her lips, as she took a rushed step closer to you. 

You frowned. "Leila, are you—" 

And that's when you saw the movement at the door of the office. 

The figure standing by the door frame was so tall and wide that it blocked out most of the light streaming in from the hallway, and as it moved to take a step towards the two of you, Leila rushed to hide behind your back, small fingers closing around your arm. 

"Oh, sweetheart," you rushed to speak with a breathless chuckle, your brows furrowed. "It's alright, it's just my friend."

As if finally registering the sudden shift in the mood, Ghost's steps came to a halt, and his eyes darted to search yours.

"Ghost," you smiled, making sure that your voice remained warm and steady. "This is Leila. Leila, darling, this is my friend, Ghost."

Despite feeling the way that she shifted her weight from one foot to another, she did not answer, as she continued clinging to your arm.

"I know he's a little big and mangy—," Ghost raised his brow at you, and you bit down your laugh, "but he was there when I found you. He had my back when I carried you back to the cars so that we could both get out safely." Your voice was a warm hum. "Would it be alright if he came here to say hi to you?"

Quiet.

"If you don't want to talk, that's alright. How about you go and squeeze my arm if it's alright with you that he comes over?"

Five small fingers squeezed around your arm, and you nodded your head with a gentle smile. "Atta girl."

On Ghost's features, you could see his gentle hesitance, as his heavy feet led him to take a few careful steps towards the two of you. With you sitting on the ground, he looked even taller and broader than he usually did, and just as you were about to ask him to crouch on the floor with you, he took the hint.

With his padded knees touching the carpeted floor, he spoke with a warm voice despite its low rumble. "Hello, there. It's Leila, yeah? My name's Ghost. I'm—err—I'm a friend of Sarge here."

"The bestest friend," you hummed with a soft chuckle, and from your words, the corners of Ghost's eyes crinkled.

"The mask’s what’s scarin' you, yeah?" He gestured towards the piece fashioned after a skull, and you could feel Leila taking a step behind your back. To peek over your shoulder or to hide further away, you were not sure of.

"It's—err—it's something that—," Ghost attempted. "It's something that makes me feel safe. Less scared, yeah? It's like—when I've got it on, I'm in my own world, yeah? In my own bubble."

You smiled, as you turned your head ever so slightly towards Leila. "Have you got something like that, love? Something that makes you feel less scared?"

And just as you thought that she was not ready to speak yet, the hesitant voice replied back. "I have a turtle. Eugene."

Ghost's laugh was low—all while gentle and warm—as he nodded his head. "That's a bloody brilliant name for a turtle, that is. You've got Eugene with you?"

"No," the small voice called back.

Oh no.

The same realization that crashed upon you visibly dawned upon Ghost, too, for you could notice the way that he blinked his eyes shut for a split second in his regret.

"I forgot to take him with me." Leila's voice cracked, and with it, your heart clenched in your chest. "I miss him."

"What do you say I—," Ghost glanced at you, lowering his voice ever so slightly. "I can go back 'n get it for her, yeah?"

"They had to pull all the troops back," you shook your head. "Something about explosives in the basement. They're waiting for SWAT to arrive to clear the house."

Fuck, his eyes told you. 

I know, the raise of your brow answered, just as the quiet sniffle sounded from behind your back. What the fuck do we do now?

Ghost blinked his eyes shut for a moment, and then with a deep breath, he spoke. "Leila, love?" He sat down on the carpet, his fingers gently moving aside the drawings. "Remember what I told you about the mask, yeah? About how it keeps me safe and protects me?"

A quiet sniffle came from behind your shoulder, followed by a quiet "yeah."

"Well, having assessed the situation at hand, in my—err—professional opinion, it seems like it's you who's needing the mask right now more than I am, yeah?"

You blinked at his words, your lips parting ever so slightly as his gloved fingers moved to the hem of his mask. You could see the soft hesitation in his movements: the gentle shake of his hands, barely noticeable yet there if you knew to look for it.

And with a deep breath, he pulled it off.

Pausing for the briefest of moments, he looked at the mask in his fingers before raising his gaze. At first, it was headed slightly past you towards the girl behind your back, and then, it drifted to you.

He was your Ghost.

The corners of your lips tugged into a smile, and you swallowed as you nodded your head once and thrice. 

He was your Ghost, and he was beautiful.

Fucking hell.

From the sudden blurriness of your gaze, you glanced up in a desperate attempt to blink away your tears, only to give up with a soft chuckle as you felt two of them rolling down your cheeks, slow and gentle.

Happy: the same happiness reflecting back on the features of Ghost, as the tip of his boot brushed against yours. 

I'm here, his eyes told you. It's alright.

The sudden gentle movement behind your back drew you back into the moment, and just as you forced your lips to part, Ghost, instead, took the lead.

"Wanna come ‘n take a look at it?"

While her movements were still overshadowed by her hesitance, there was now a hint of curiosity too in the way that Leila slipped out from behind your back, and walked to Ghost.

Sitting cross-legged next to him, she carefully reached for the mask, her index finger running across the cheek of the skull.

"It's not soft like Eugene is," she hummed before her carefully twinkling eyes found those of Ghost.

"No," he laughed with a nod of his head. As he did, his nose scrunched up ever so slightly, and you bit your lip to hide your smile. "No, but what I like about it is… When you have it on, no one can see your face, right? It's—"

"Oh, it's like—," Leila smiled, as her fingers traced the edges of the skull. "It's like the shell of Eugene. When he's scared, or—or when he needs to be alone, he can go into his shell and feel safe because it's just him there."

"Yeah. Something like that, yeah," Ghost nodded with a smile. "Wanna—err—wanna try it on?"

Her eyes sparkling now, Leila nodded her head fast and hard enough to surely get the girl dizzy were she to keep it up. "Yes, please."

"C'mere then, yeah?" His fingers fumbled with the fabric, as he got it straightened out. "Look up." She did as she was told, and Ghost slid it over her head—only for the three of you to laugh, as it slipped over her eyes. "Hold up. There ya go, yeah? Can you see through the holes?"

"Yeah," Leila called out, her voice slightly muffled. Despite not being able to see her little features any longer—her button nose and freckled cheeks hidden by the mask far too big and wide for her delicate features—you could hear the burning excitement in her voice, as the mask shook with her nods. "This is awesome. Do I look scary now?"

"Fuckin' terrifying," Ghost grinned.

"How does it feel?" You hummed, leaning back. 

"Safe," Leila confirmed with a chuckle.

"Yeah? Like the shell of Eugene, eh?"

"Yeah, like I was hiding in a shell." She laughed. "A big shell. A stinky shell."

Ghost's eyes blinking shut, he nodded his head as a deeply amused laugh danced from your lips. 

"Yeah. Yeah," he grinned, the apples of his cheeks slightly flushed as his hand moved to rub his face with his laughter. "This turtle might've been a little lazy with his fuckin’ baths lately, eh? What do you say you give it back here before you embarrass me further in front of my best friend, yeah?"

Leila laughed as her little hands moved to slide the mask off her features, and she drew in an exaggerated breath. "Ah, lovely fresh air."

"Little shit," Ghost grinned, and you playfully kicked him with your boot. 

"Keep it up and we're not taking you with us on our candy heist, are we, Leila?" 

"Nah, he can come," Leila smiled, as she offered her hand to urge you up from the ground. "He's fun, even if he's stinking. Besides," she then chuckled as she pulled you up, before offering her hand for Ghost. “We need him to carry it all back. Because he's stronger than we are."

"Happy to be fuckin' useful," he chuckled.

"And if we get caught," you arched an amused brow at the girl, softly elbowing Ghost as you did, "we can blame it all on him."

"See, this is why I like you," Leila announced, as she started leading the way out of the office. Yet not before her voice, gently amused yet oh-so-knowing, had added: "And probably why Ghost's in love with you, too."

The corners of your lips tugged into a smirk, and you raised a brow at him. "That so, Lt.?"

"It was you who demoted me, darlin’," he chuckled under his breath, as his fingers brushed against yours, gentle and knowing. "Best friend, eh?”

Or maybe—just maybe—something just a little bit more than that.

a/n: if you liked this wee little thing, please do let me know via comments, tags, or asks—whatever works for you. reading your feedback means the absolute world to me. ♡

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fluff

[coupleoffanfics]

teehee I have a small thought (batfam related, yk that one where y/n gets killed)

imagine if y/n was brought back by the pit, but instead of being a "shell" in that hc u made, she becomes completely stoic, like just blurts out what she was feeling back when she was neglected with the most blank expression ever, I imagine it being more focused on bruce and Damian since yk..bruce was the shittiest parent ever, and Damian with his sparky ass insults.

You…God, damnit Anon. You summoned me and I suddenly have the motivation to write after reading your two requests.

I don't know if you wanted a one-shot or HC. So I just went with a HC because it's much easier to push out. Though if you want me to make a one-shot feel free to ask. I'll take 7 years to write it. Though at the end I did sort of a one-shot.

Damian should have known something was wrong when y/n didn't start thrashing around and attacking anything that moved after crawling out of the pit. She just stared at her hands, clenching them into firsts and then unclenching them slowly.

Maybe Damian was too relieved to see y/n breathing and moving to really care. Maybe he thought that she was just in shock. Coming back to life isn't always expected and it can take a real toll on someone.

Not to mention that y/n was, compared to her brothers, far weaker. Not just physically, but mentally as well. So it's not surprising that she was so docile, right? It's only a matter of time before that effect wears off and she'll be normal. Or something close to normal.

Okay, maybe deep down Damian knew that there was a chance that he wasn't getting y/n back. Everyone knew that there was no getting her back, but he was willing to take the risk. He came this far and it didn't take long for Bruce to pick up on what his youngest was doing.

Damian has his big sister back and he's not going to let her go again. It's only a matter of hours before Bruce comes breaking down the door to drag them back to Gotham. So Damian took the time to clean up y/n.

She was still in her funeral clothes for goodness sake. She reeked of death, but that didn't stop the boy from hugging her tightly.

While getting cleaned up, she doesn't say a thing. Or even make a lot of noise. It was almost like she was still dead.

By the time Bruce gets there, he's not surprised by Damian's actions. He thought of doing the same thing, but he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. He couldn't disrespect her life by bringing her back. How could he dare think of that when she looked so at peace when she died.

He remembers how her body was tense before it became horrifyingly relaxed. There was a fear of death in those [eye color] eyes, he knows because he saw it. But it was so quick and fleeting that he could have missed it if he wasn't so close.

In a twisted way he wished y/n had clung on to him just like she did when she was a wide eyed little girl and cried. Cry that she didn't want to die. Cry that it was too early to leave now. Cry that she didn't want to leave them.

But all she did was give a crooked smile and mumble to herself as blood dribbled down her chin. She spoke incoherent things to herself. A name or two slipped from her cold lips, but they weren't ones of her family. From what he gathered it was just a close friend and her significant other's name. She died thinking of those who cared and loved her back. Not of the family that she couldn't stand to be around.

Even when her own adopted father held her dying from close, they were far from her line of thought.

So seeing y/n alive was gut reaching for Bruce. There was no pain, anger, sadness, or joy on her face. She was just there. Staring at him with an uncomfortable indifference.

Damian was ready to start a fight with Bruce. Not a physical one, but he would cross that line if he needed to. He was ready to defend himself in what he thought was best for y/n. Yet Bruce lets out a quiet sigh and tells that it's time to come home. How anticlimactic.

The plane ride back to Gotham is long and quiet. It also felt cramped by how close Damian was to y/n and unwilling to give her too much space.

By the time they made it back to the manor, everyone was caught up to date. The development is surprising to some while others not so much.

Everyone is in the bat cave. Gathered around to see y/n back from the dead. The silence is deafening as they wait for something. Just something from her, but she walked past them all. Out of the cave and to where her room was. Nothing was out of place in her room, though it was mostly empty after she had moved out a few years ago. She laid on her bed and slept as if nothing was amiss.

That's where the family infighting starts. Question of was this the right thing. What are going to do now? Why the hell did you think this was a good idea? There's going to be a lot of hash words being shared, but at the end of the day what was done was done and they had y/n back. They weren't going to mess up the second time.

Did they really get a second chance because it didn't feel like it. A week would pass and y/n has yet to come out of her room. She's alive and breathing because the trays of food left outside her door are always empty.

The camera's installed while she slept showed that she was doing nothing. All she did was lay in bed. She'd get up to use her private bathroom, but other than that there wasn't much. She was rotting away alone in her room.

This rang familiar bells in Alfred, Bruce, and Tim's head. y/n wasn't prone to long depressive episodes, so this could be something similar. The lack of socializing and excessive oversleeping was typically a big red sign for them to do something. In the past they would not force, but push her into doing social things or at least being out of her room.

They could approach this situation the same way, but they'd have to be extra careful. This was a unique and tricky situation to be in. It was also odd if not worrying that she hasn't succumbed to lazarus fever.

They could try to bribe y/n out of her room with activities that have to do with her old hobbies.

"Alfred is baking today, he said might need some help."

"I just stole the keys to the batmobile, you wanna take it for a ride?"

"Hey, do you want to…um, play a video game with me. I remember we used to play Hellflight Deadcraze a lot. They came out with the 3rd game. I just bought it today, so...Yeah."

Though the likelihood of that working is low. If they're really desperate to interact with her, they might as well just bust down her door.

At some point all the poking and prodding is going to irritate y/n. Whoever popped her bubble is going to be on the receiving end of pent up emotions.

I don't believe y/n would ever intentionally say how much the family's treatment harmed her. Again it would bubble up and fester for a while before she explodes. The thing about y/n is that she has an inferiority complex. In her life she aimed to please and help.

She understands that Gotham is dangerous. A lot of people need help and she couldn't bring herself to pull them away from their job. To her it would be like pulling a fireman away from a fire to chat as people burned alive. Even if the fire was out the fireman would be tired and need to rest, so she couldn't just pull them wherever she wanted to go. She shouldn't pester them.

In y/n's eyes, she was never worthy of being a hero because she wasn't good enough. She was never worthy of being with the family because she wasn't helping enough. She should do this to prove her worth. She's not worthless because she can do this for you and this as well!

She embodies inferiority and self-loathing. Someone that feels insignificant and has the strong urge to do more. She has- or had in this situation, hope. Hope that she'll be worthy of love. Love, affection, praise is what drives her and will seek it out if she's desperate. If she does ask or seek it out she'll be feeling guilty since she didn't really do anything to get it. In her mind she was being greedy and she couldn't help herself.

Bonus

"Just stop. Leave me alone." Her voice was almost pleading as she gripped the wrapped gift box. The gift was a symbol of peace, almost a treaty. That's all it was supposed to be, but she acts as if she had been spat in the eye.

Seeing that Bruce wasn't listening to her, she dug her nails into the gift. Almost tearing into the [favorite color] wrapped paper. He stood before her like an unmoving entity. The longer he stood by the more she wanted to snap into herself. She didn't want to slowly curl into a ball. She wanted to snap herself together with a violent and almost sickening crack. This just wasn't fair.

Clenching her jaw, her voice became much colder. It wasn't as cold as the middle of winter, yet it still had a chill to it.

"I thought you'd get it that I didn't want this. I shut you out, but you- all of you just keep buzzing. None of you are getting the hint. You just keep coming back louder than before. Why can't you let me be alone? Why can't you act overworked and tired? Why can't you just leave things the way they were?"

Bruce was conflicted upon hearing her say that and would try to claim that everything is going to come around. Everything always comes around in the end and this wouldn't be any different. They are going to get through this as a family.

y/n's frown would deepen and her eyes would furrow at his attempt at comfort. She looks as if she just ate something that was expired, leaving her mouth with nothing but a nasty sour taste.

"Because we're family." She whispered to herself before almost grimacing at the words. Her voice became sharp and cold as a blade, "I don't understand why you'd suggest that was still a part of the family. I don't think I've been family for a good while now."

She clicked her tongue as she dropped the gift box while looking Bruce in the eyes. "Come on, you can't say you cared about me after I stopped being useful. When did you realize that I wasn't anything special? Was it when I kept crying about punching villains or when I was too slow to teach."

Seeing the conflicted look in his blue eyes confused her. Why would the truth conflict someone unless it was pity. Even after all this she's just a pitiful little crybaby to him. One good hit and she's out wailing on the floor for someone to kiss her boo-boo away.

Somehow this hurt her. Her pounding heart felt like it was twisting on itself. She wanted to cry and laugh at how she thought things couldn't get any worse. Then somehow it did. The universe, the world, the Wayne had proved her wrong yet again. It was as funny as it was sad.

She could have broken down there, but she needed to hear it. She had to hear the truth, so she kept twisting her heart with her own hands. It didn't matter how much it hurt.

"Or maybe you were in denial? You had wasted a lot of time and resources on a dud. Then Damian threw cold water on you and left you shivering, right? I'm just leeching off of you and the others. Then…Then you choose them over me. I was an afterthought, or is that being too generous? Did I ever circulate in your mind before this?"

Her voice was becoming shrill and gruff like she was on the verge of tears. "When did you realize that I was dead weight, Batman? Did I make Bruce Wayne look more caring to the people when I talk about how much I love my family? Did my life serve any use or was I always just a speck of dirt on your shoes?"

Those words were far from the truth, yet with how she spoke Bruce knew that she believed in all that she was saying. Each and every word was true to her. Honestly he didn't know what to say. This was all too much. Having to hear your own child degrade themselves with such honesty was heartbreaking.

Taking his silence as a sort of confirmation, y/n ordered him to leave and of course he did. He'd fix this somehow. He just needed time. They needed time.

I cut off the ending because I didn't want to write too much. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. I haven't proofread this, Google Doc says there aren't any errors (probably a lie), and it's 3 in the morning. Goodnight.

#batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #batsis reader #yandere batfam #God damn you anon #you beautiful bastard #I'll clean this up later when I sleep #x reader #x batsis reader

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one

chapter two | red. rain. rotten.

his pov;

She was standing underneath a stripe-patterned banner that shielded her from the pouring rain. Her nimble fingers sorted through an assortment of fruits, trying to decide which were the ripest and tastiest of the bunch. Of course, she was by herself, with none of her peers or family around her. I knew she was close to them. But why must she always be alone?

The tan-suede coat I wore protected me from the cold, keeping my body somewhat warm. My gloves and hands were stuffed in my pockets as I peeked around the corner and watched the girl shop. I noticed her begin to shiver, which I dreaded. I was so selfish. I didn't need this coat. I've spent countless nights in the cold, the crashing waves of the East Blue only intensifying the breeze. I was almost immune to the cold, but her? Y/N's nose was reddening as her teeth shattered. Was any fruit worth suffering in the cold? A devil fruit, maybe. But even then, it wasn't worth it. "Y/N," I smiled as I approached the maiden. The girl's head rose as she picked up an apple then her body twisted, her eyes growing wide upon the sight of myself. She nearly jumped. "How-" She shook her head. "Are you following me?" Her voice and body shook. Yes. "No, of course not," I laughed, brushing the accusation off my shoulders as I took a few more steps toward her, closing the wide gap. "I was looking for something to eat and I spotted you. Am I not allowed to say hello?" Guilt was something I was tremendous at. Y/N still seemed skeptical but after a slight sigh, she smiled and nodded her head. "No, forgive me. I'm sorry. Uh," She turned her attention to the apple she was holding then let it drop among the others crowding in a small basket. "None of these apples look good."

"They've been sitting out for a while. The shop clerk doesn't take the best care of his fruits. It's why they're so cheap," I chuckled to myself and reached down to grab an apple. I twisted it and examined a large brown spot that was eating away at the once-bright red color. I huffed, "I'm sure you can find something else to eat."

"I can't afford anything else to eat."

My eyes widened and I took a step back, visibly and internally shocked. What? She couldn't afford to eat anything other than a rotten apple? "Why?"

"It's a long story," Y/N admitted. "But I don't wanna talk about it." The girl sorted through found one that looked reasonable, and started to dig in her pocket. She pulled out nothing. "Never mind, I can't even afford that." Letting out a pitiful laugh, she dropped the fruit. I frowned. Her absence of money was one of the few things I didn't know about her. And now that I was aware of it, I felt a puzzling and aggressive feeling in my stomach. Was she out of work? Did she not have any way of providing for herself? Raising my hand, I grabbed at my chin and scratched the bottom of it. "Let me buy you something to eat."

"What?" Her eyes widened and she immediately shook her head, waving her hands as a type of rejection. "You are not buying me anything."

"It's just lunch. It's no biggy," I remarked. "At least something small."

"Why?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you feel sorry for me? First, you see me getting picked on by some slob, and now, you see that I'm too poor to afford a rotten apple. What's next?"

"Y/N, knock it off. Stop. Just think of it as a friend doing something nice for their friend."

The questioning look remained stuck on her face as she stared up at me. I tried to maintain a serious expression though the look she was giving me made my lower lip purse, like a pout. How was someone so enchanting? I continued to stare into her eyes, making quick glimpses to explore her other facial features before she finally made a decision. "Fine, but just this once, okay?" "You got it." I winked. -=- Being the gentleman I am, I loaned Y/N my coat to wear despite her dismay and numerous declines. She was pouty the entire walk to the pub but I didn't care. I'd rather her in a pissy mood than feeling physically uncomfortable due to the rain. I, however, was shivering. I was starting to become drenched. I held a newspaper over my head in hopes of staying dry but the wind was strong and the rain was forceful, almost piercing through the thin paper.

When we arrived at the restaurant, she found herself a seat in the corner of the establishment, scooting far into the booth. I followed behind her, sitting on the edge of the seat. I'd rather her be sitting across from me than rather to the side but due to her current emotional state, I stayed quiet and slid her the menu. "Get whatever you want, alright? I mean it."

"Are you a man of money?"

"Something like that," I snickered and ducked my head down to examine the options.

"Have you killed anyone before?" Y/N asked as she folded her arms over the table, her eyes peering at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows and let out a soft laugh. "No," I lied. "I'm not like that. I wasn't that type of pirate."

"What kind of pirate were you?"

"What kind of pirates do you think there are?"

"I don't know," She said as she pursed her lips. "I don't like pirates."

I nodded, unsure of a proper reply. I didn't like lying to her. I was fine with lying, in general. I was the master of conniving and deception. But I wanted to be different for her. Maybe a better person, though that seemed a bit rash. I left the East Blue after discovering that Monkey D- or whatever his name was received a higher bounty than me. Double my own, to be precise. My normally high and mighty ego dropped down and was smooshed by a brick. I didn't want to show my face again, at least not for a while. I wanted somewhat of a fresh start. And when I discovered my presence in the North Blue was dim and almost non-existent, I decide to settle down and refresh.

Then I discovered her.

And my plans completely changed.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Y/N's voice interrupted my thoughts and I raised my head and peaked up at her, smiling softly.

"Hm, not too sure yet," I replied.

"Are you cold? You look cold. You can have your coat back, it's--"

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you," I said with a grin. I reached for a napkin and started to dab at my forearms, trying to dry myself off. The lovely woman aside of me frowned and stayed quiet. I could tell she felt guilty, which, of course, wasn't my intention. So in hopes of brightening up the mood, I decided to tell a joke.

"What's a pirate's favorite type of exercise?"

Y/N smirked and scrunched her eyebrows. "What?" She laughed.

"The plank."

Her hand slapped over her mouth in hopes of keeping her loud giggles and snickers to a minimum but the more she proceeded to think about it, the more laughs she erupted. My face reddened. I glanced around me, noticing that every other patron and pirate were staring directly at us. Gulping, I reached forward and pulled her hand down from her mouth. "Come on, stop. It's not that funny."

"It's stupid, that's why it's funny!" She continued to cackle as she threw herself over the table, clutching her stomach. A smile crawled on my face, not a painted one. Hearing her laugh, while for no reason, was a beautiful sound. And seeing her laugh? That was even better. I rested my chin in my hand and watched her, smiling to myself. When she finally calmed down, she wiped tears from her eyes. Her face was stained red. "Gosh, I am so sorry," She sighed, shaking her head. "I needed that, thank you."

"It's no problem," I said as I dropped my menu.

Due to the lack of laughter, a waiter finally arrived and took our orders.

"I'll have a slice of apple pie, please. With a cup of milk," Y/N smiled up at the waiter as she read off from the menu.

I raised an eyebrow. Dessert?

"Then after that, I'll have the fish and chips. But I want the pie first, please. Not after." She announced and she folded her menu, sliding it forward. She smiled at me.

I looked at her, completely confused. "Uhm," I looked back to the waiter, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

Now, Y/N was looking at me, confused.

The waiter nodded and left. "Hey," Y/N started. "Why aren't you eating? I thought you were on your way to get something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry. Plus I doubt you'll finish all of that. I might pick on your leftovers," I said with a grin then I started to munch on the small bowl of peanuts that sat in the middle of the table. "What's up with the apple pie though?"

"I like to eat my dessert before my food because that's what I'm looking forward to," She hummed as she leaned back in her seat. "What if during our meal, we are stormed by a group of pirates and killed at gunpoint? Or a sea snake comes and eats us whole?"

"Ha! What?"

"It's unlikely but it's possible. And I'd like to die knowing I was able to get to the good part of my meal." She wagged her finger at me.

"You make a good point there."

"I know," The girl said with a satisfied grin.

I chuckled and sat back, drumming my gloved fingers on the edge of the table. A thought pondered my mind but I didn't know whether to act on it or not. I wanted to, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I felt Y/N and I were moving forward with our relationship if there was one. We were talking, enjoying a meal together. I made her laugh. She admitted a quirk about herself to me. I felt there was good progress. But I wanted more. I was an impatient man. And the fact that it took five months for me to finally talk to her, despite her initiating the conversation, was surprising. I was eager to get what I wanted. And Y/N was the only thing my mind and heart could agree on.

But the fighting halves of my brain finally settled and I rested my arm over the top of the booth, leaning back. "So, uh, earlier you said you needed to laugh? How so?"

"It's a long story," She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"I've got no places to be, I have time," I said as I cracked a peanut open, discarding of the shells on an unfolded napkin. I watched as she began to grow uneasy with the topic but I was desperate to want to know what was the issue. Why was she stressing her pretty little head? I frowned. "Come on, talk to me. We aren't friends, I'm a stranger to you, no? Who am I gonna talk to or tell?"

"You make a good point," Y/N sighed and leaned forward, raising her hand to scratch at the back of her neck. "It's just- I don't know, it's a lot. I haven't talked to anyone about it."

“Why not?”

“Because it’s something I’m not proud of.”

What could someone as sweet and fragile as she has done that was such an awful deed?

“What is it?” I tossed a peanut into my mouth.

“Well, I was young when it all happened. But when Gold Roger announced the One Piece before he died, my dad was one of the stupid pirates who thought he could have a shot at finding it,” She announced as her eyes rolled and she started to chew on my inner cheek. “My mom kept telling him to knock it off and stop living in a fantasy but he set off, determined to find it. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. But this came to me a few days ago,” The girl dug her hand into her pocket, rummaging around before she pulled out a crumpled piece of coffee-stained paper. She rolled the ball toward me.

I looked at her then back down at the paper ball. I reached forward and grabbed it, raising an eyebrow. Unfolding it, I smoothed the paper against the table and started to allow my eyes to trail over the letter.

‘Y/N,

It is with great sorrow that I write you this letter. I wish you the best in your youth and I hope you amount to incredible things, such as creating a new destiny for you and your mother. I am sorry I wasn’t able to be a better father for you. Greed is distasteful. I won’t see you again. At the time of writing this, I will be long gone. But please, do me one thing: never stop smiling.

I love you, kiddo.

Love, Dad’

I clenched my jaw and looked back up at her. “Damn, that is a lot.”

“I told you,” She whispered as she tore the paper out of my hands, crunched it into a ball, and then shoved it back into her pants. “I didn’t think he’d be dead. Not this soon. My parents had me when they were young. And to think that my dad died doing something everyone warned him of. It’s horrible. It haunts my mind every day,” She frowned, her eyes tearing up. “Do I write back?”

“Do you have things you wish to say to him?”

“So much. But if he’s dead, then there’s nothing I can say, right?” Y/N rubbed at her nose and took a deep breath as she looked up, her hands waving in hopes of drying her tears. “God, I hate crying.”

“Maybe just write your heart out. Say everything you wish you could say to him. Then seal it in a bottle and toss it into the sea,” I suggested. I looked down at my gloved hand and hesitating, I reached forward and took hold of her small hand. I gave it a tight squeeze. “What do you want to say?”

“How I hate him for abandoning me and my mother but I still love him because he’s my father,” Y/N murmured, the rest of her words muffling as her lower lip quivered. She broke down in a fit of sobs as tears ran down her gorgeous face. I swallowed, never knowing how to react when someone cried. As a child, I hated to be touched whenever I was upset. I wondered if she was the same way. “I don’t know, I don’t,” She repeated as she buried her face in her hands.

I looked around the bar, nervous that others were watching this scene. First the obnoxious laughter and now this? Her emotions were spiraling.

“Hey,” I whispered, my thumb rubbing along her wrist. “Let's say we get the food to go and I’ll take you back home. Eat where you feel comfortable and so you can properly feel your emotions.”

“Huh?” She raised her head, the light mascara that accentuated her eyelashes, now dripping down her cheeks.

“I’m going to go tell the chef to wrap your meal up. Then I’ll take you home,” I continued and I raised my free hand, snapping my fingers to signal we needed assistance. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn around when you walk inside.” I cocked a smile but the comment remained unheard as she continued to cry.

I finally found a waiter and instructed him that we were taking the meal to go. He looked at Y/N with a concerned look but I told him she was alright. But I didn't even know that.

On the walk back to her place, I think I managed to get her to calm down. My hand rubbed at her back as she dipped her head in her hands. I guided her through crowds, instructing her on where to go since her eyes were covered and swollen with tears. A small frown fell on my face despite the red-painted smile I wore so proudly. The face paint I wore was smeared and dripping due to the rain from before. It was continuing to rain but not nearly as frequent and hard as earlier.

I had no idea she was this emotional. It made me feel guilty, even though, as far as I knew, I had nothing to do with why she was crying so much. I hated seeing her so sad. Normally, if it were anyone else apart from her, ridiculing would be my goal. I never cry. Pirates don't cry. But my nose burned with an odd sensation as I helped her up the staircase to her small, run-down building. I blinked rapidly and the feeling went away. Letting out a sigh, I gave Y/N a pat on the back and informed her that we were finally home. Her head raised from the confines of her hands and she revealed a wet, red face with strands of her hair sticking to her skin. A frown stayed on my face. I pulled my hand from her back and dropped the takeaway down on the doorstep. I clenched my teeth together and watched as she fumbled to push the door open. "Here," I whispered, using my foot to nudge it open. It gave way, revealing a disorderly room with an unkempt bed and a woman sleeping under the sheets. It was probably her mother.

"Thank you," Y/N finally spoke, her voice croaking. "I appreciate it, honestly. I'm sorry for ruining your meal."

"Don't apologize. Things are fine. Go eat then get some rest, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." She rubbed her nose and nodded her head. "I'll see you around." Her body twisted and she hunched over to grab the uneaten food. She stepped inside.

"Y/N," I started, stopping her in her steps. She turned around. As I dug through my pocket, I pulled out a few berries, placing them in the palm of her hand. "Take these, okay? It's not a lot but, it should last you a little while."

"What?" She looked in her hand, shaking her head. "Buggy, no, I can't accept this. This is too much."

"Come on, take it. It's okay. You need it more than I do."

"But this is like," She counted the bills in her hands, "forty-three hundred berries... Are you completely sure?"

"Yes, I am," I said with a smile.

"I'm going to pay you back for this, I promise."

"No need."

"No, I want to. Please. I won't take this unless you allow me to repay you for this. Okay?" She slipped the money into her pocket, wiped her palm on the side of her pants, then held it out. "Deal?"

Chuckling to myself, I nodded my head. "Deal." I shook her hand. "Now, come on, go eat. I don't want to take any more of your time."

"Okay, okay," The beautiful girl agreed with a large grin, which was a much better sight than her crying. "Buggy, thank you. Thank you so much." And with those words, she stepped back, gave me a quick wave and a sincere grin, then shut the creaky wooden door behind her.

The sound of the door shutting nearly made me jump. And when I realized I was left all alone, the same sensation in my nose appeared. I gulped and walked down the stairs, now standing on a wooden dock. I hugged my arms and my eyes widened.

Y/N still had my coat.

#buggy #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy smut #buggy the genius jester #x reader #captain buggy #opla fanart #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece buggy #opla buggy

[skyeslittlecorner]

Oh no, everyone has great ideas and you turn them into such amazing stories 🥹 Love family stuffs ahhhhh 😩

How about the kings and their kids prepare for Mother's day? 👀 The kids ask for advices and join their dads in prepare them (...and the king's gifts too... if you know what I mean 👀👌👈)

I love bringing your ideas to life! And I'm glad that you entrust them to me, you don't even know what an inspiration it is, that I can write for you, and you like it. Stay amazing as always 🙏

Family time, let's go!

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan and the twins had some trouble with their gift for you. They said they wanted to do it themselves, without dad, because it would be a surprise for both of you. Of course, he agreed, but he still ordered the nobles to keep an eye on them. First they went to Sitri and wanted to paint the cups, but they broke them. Then they approached Paimon to make you your own stickers, but after half an hour, glitter was everywhere. Before they accosted anyone else, Astaroth intervened. He took them to the meadow (so they could run around and shake off some glitter) and only when they got tired did he start telling them about how their father was a child, when they were picking wild flowers for bouquets for you.

Satan himself will give you a box of mint-blueberry chocolates, which you regularly carved at 3 a.m. during your pregnancy, and a smirk with the words "I'm ready for round two." Of course, he pissed you off with that. And since he also brought good wine, get ready for the next five rounds.

Mammon and your little gang will present you with a whole collection of jewelry. You expected them to be pasta necklaces and modeling clay earrings, but of course you underestimated them. Pearl necklace, ruby bracelets, cufflinks with gold beads. Of course, they are made a bit crooked and clumsy, the younger the child the more so, but you and Mammon look like the proudest parents in the world. This is the only jewelry you want to wear.

From the king you will receive a beautiful silk set (actually five sets, each matching one piece of jewelry you received), underwear and a long dressing gown, (and a matching dress, shoes and even a handbag), which you will have to try out together.

Beelzebub loves scribbles, and so does his little girl! The card you will receive will be the messiest, most colorful conglomeration of colored tissue paper, photos and ribbons you could ever imagine. Beel made sure that there was no shortage of materials, so in one place you have shells from the Caribbean, a heart made of Chinese silk and amber with a fossil (where did they get it from? Did he really take your daughter for a walk around the world? You don't ask, you don't want to know the answer).

Beel will give you markers with edible icing. He had a great time with the little one, but now it's time for mommy to show off her artistic talent. Preferably on his body. You can trace his tattoos with a marker, or maybe write something new. He's ready to be your canvas all night long.

Your daughter has Leviathan’s perfectionism, but in a specific version that when daddy likes something, it means it's already perfect. Usually. Sometimes she says daddy has no taste, and that's the sassy part she inherited from you. She would spend a good week sitting in her father's office and embroidering a pillow as a gift for you, with small flowers, because she doesn't know anything else yet. Levi makes sure she doesn't gouge out her eye with the needle, and every time the needle almost pierces her finger, the thread pulls it back. He usually doesn't worry about it, let the child learn. This time he would prefer there was no blood on the embroidery because the gift for you has to be more perfect than anything else.

Leviathan will give you a choker, also embroidered, but with black thread on black material. You can read it only by touch. What does it say? Only you two know. It's so adjustable that it's perfect for both wearing and choking.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb beelzebub #skye's little talk

[graysturns]

𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣 | 𝕔.𝕤.

notes: oh shit another one! i’m in a good mood today oops

warnings: no smut sorry just chris w the rizz

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i sat at a booth at the far end of the restaurant, polishing and rolling silverware into neat little bundles. it had been two hours since anyone had come in, so i sent the cook home. i could handle it on my own, the diner had been in my family for years and i basically grew up there. not that there was anything to handle, the floors were mopped, grill cleaned, and now, silverware rolled. but still, someone had to stay behind, just in case.

i was gazing at the sunset through the large glass windows, when i heard the bell above the door ringing. my head shot up and i locked eyes with a beautiful, beautiful man.

i stood up, patting my hands on my ridiculous waitress apron, and approached him with my customer service smile. "hey there, welcome in! just one dining in today?" i greeted him.

"yep.." he spoke awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"would you like to sit at a booth or have a seat at the bar?" i grabbed a menu and a set of silverware from behind the counter.

"the bar is fine, thank you," he took a seat on the spinny stool.

"alrighty then, there's the menu for you, my name is (y/n) if you need anything, and i can go grab you a drink while you take a look at that. what would you like?"

"umm.." he flipped over the laminated sheet. "i'll have a chocolate shake please, extra cherries.

"perfect! i'll be back in a minute" i spun around and headed back to the kitchen, secretly annoyed that i had to pull out the blender, and ice cream, and etc. etc.. but alas, doing something was better than nothing. i hurriedly prepared the milkshake, topping it with whipped cream, then some rainbow sprinkles. i made sure to add five or six cherries on top, then adding some extra whipped cream, just because.

i hurried back to the counter, placing his milkshake before him, and popping a bright pink straw into his drink.

"pink?" he raised an eyebrow at me. i felt a shift in his demeanor.

"yes, pink?" i raised one back.

"do i seem like the kinda guy who likes pink?" he smirked a little.

"it's just pink, doesn't mean anything. i grabbed a random straw sweetie, i'll change it out for you, sorry about that," i reached for the straw.

"no no no," he brought the shake closer to him. "my bad sweetie, i thought you were trying to say something, but that's okay, i actually do like pink."

i gave him a puzzled look. "i'm sorry sir, i didn't mean to offend you, i work in a diner, we call everyone sweetie here, that's how we get old guys to tip big. as for the straw, i'll just let you pick what color you want next time."

he focused on his shake, sipping slowly for a second, before looking up at me, licking his lips.

"i'm not offended sweetie, i kinda like it," he laughs. "i apologize if we got off on the wrong foot, i'm not trying to be rude, or weird or anything, i'm just really bad at flirting."

i let out a sigh "-gosh you scared me! i thought you were gonna murder me or something because i'm all alone in this diner! man, you're terrible you know that?" i giggled.

he looked very amused. "how do you know i'm not a murderer? you can't let people know you're all alone here, as pretty as you are. that's dangerous." focusing back on his shake.

"i'm gonna choose to trust you today, i have nothing better to do. anyways, have you decided what you want to order?"

he pays attention to the laminated sheet once more, then looks up at me. "what's good here?"

i roll my eyes.

"what? did i say something wrong?" he's chewing on his straw.

"that's just like, the most annoying thing you could ever say to a waitress but, again i have nothing better to do." i grab the sheet from his hand and point out a couple things.

"if you're in the mood for breakfast food, the biscuits and gravy are good, if you like that sorta thing, our pancakes too, and my personal favorite is the french toast with a caramelized peach topping, but that takes some time if you're in a rush.." he's staring at me. "sorry I'm rambling, there's so much to choose from!"

"no don't worry about it, I'm enjoying listening to you talk. but no, i'm not in a breakfast kinda mood, sorry. you can keep going, if you'd like,"

i feel a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"..okay let's see here. for dinner, we've got our classic american burger, comes with your choice of fries or onion rings?"

"hmm.. no i'm not feeling a burger at the moment."

"how about a sandwich? we've got grilled cheese, turkey club, BLT, maybe a philly cheesesteak?"

he shakes his head no, so i keep going.

"fried chicken? or a salad? we've also got country fried steak."

"i think it's called chicken fried steak, sweetie." he smirked.

"mmm no actually, it's a country fried steak."

"no it's a chicken fried steak, because it's steak, fried like chicken."

"you know what, i don't even care, that's what you're eating, since you can't make up your mind. alright sweetie?"

"alright." more smirking.

"that comes with a side, what do you want?"

"what are my options?" he licks his lips again, eyeing me up and down.

"eyes up here, sir." i point to my face.

"you can do mashed potatoes, green beans, or a baked mac and cheese."

"i'll get the mashed potatoes, thank you sweetie." he says it without an attitude this time.

"okay great, give me a few minutes and i'll have that right out for you, okay?"

"okay," he replies as i hurry back to the kitchen, pulling out all the ingredients for his meal.

as i'm finishing up, i hear the bell chime again, indicating someone has either left or entered the diner.

i peek out the swinging kitchen door and see the man's seat empty. i hoped he didn't leave just as i was finishing preparing his meal.

i plate up the potatoes, then the steak, and smother it in gravy, then walk out to the counter, carefully setting his plate down where he was sat, then sitting on my stool the opposite side.

suddenly, he walks back in, running a hand through his hair.

"hey sweetie! sorry i didn't mean to make you think i left without paying. my brother was just calling to see where i was, so i stepped outside for a moment."

"that's alright, your foods out, and you know, we don't have to keep calling each other sweetie, you know my name, just tell me yours. "

"no i like it this way, it's nicer.” he takes a seat, grabbing his fork and knife, digging in.

"wow y/n this is amazing! normally i don't like this sort of food but wow, you really outdid yourself."

"oh hush, i just had to throw it in the fryer, don't give me the credit." i beamed at him.

"but i do have to clean up, so i'll see you in a bit, enjoy your meal." i winked at him.

"no, please. stay here, i don't like to eat alone. and i like the conversation."

"i really should go clean up-"

"miss (y/n), just a little company please?"

i can't say no to those eyes. "okay fine, i'll sit with you" i reply to him, returning to my seat on the stool.

"good. thanks, babe."

"so it's babe now?" i raised a brow at him.

"we'll play around with it, see what we like more." he takes another bite.

"you're a dork, you know that?"

"i can be your dork," he smiled at me some more.

"that was so corny, don't do that ever again. please, i'm going to vomit."

"ew, babe i'm eating. you shouldn't talk about vomit. it isn't very ladylike."

"but babe, i can't help that you made me nauseous," i pouted at him.

"i don't make you nauseous. you love me!" he pouted right back.

"babe we just met!"

"but you're calling me babe, babe." he grins up at me.

"you got me there. hey babe, you want another shake?"

"i'd love one,"

"okay, be right back!" i hop off the stool and run to the kitchen, hurriedly preparing another chocolate milkshake, extra cherries and whipped cream.

"here it is," i push out the swinging doors.

"a chocolate shake for you, sir," i giggle as i throw in another pink straw.

"you said i could pick! i wanted orange this time." he frowns at me.

"aw too bad, i forgot. sorry babe. but you get what you get, i can't be wasting straws, now, think of the turtles."

he laughed then proceeded to enjoy his shake.

"i can't believe i've never been here before. quality dinner and entertainment, that's quite hard to come by nowadays," he spoke.

"i didn't consider myself very entertaining, but thank you, we try our best here at Jo's." i beamed at him, sat up straight, then jokingly pointed to the "Jo's Friendliest Face of 2023" pin fastened to my apron.

"i was completely joking babe, but i'm honestly astounded that they gave you a pin for being such a dork! this is a proud boyfriend moment." he teased.

"i'm gonna be honest with you, my dad owns this place and i'm the only one who works here besides the cook. anyways, i stole this pin from my dads office to get more tips," i trailed off.

"so you're a liar and a thief, (y/n)?" he laughed.

"aw no more babe?" i pouted.

"you gotta earn it back," he smirked.

i rolled my eyes slightly.

“okay nevermind, i like it when you roll your eyes like that, babe.” he winked.

my jaw dropped at his comment, it wasn’t outright dirty but it was definitely implied.

“babe at least take me on a date first!” i laughed and lightly smacked his arm.

he chuckled and looked down at his plate, which was now bare.

“as much as i’d love to stay and chat, i’m needed elsewhere, but we can continue this conversation another time.” he grinned cheekily.

“alright sounds good, i’ll be right back with your check,”

“no that’s okay, here’s my card. you can just run it.” he handed me a debit card. i smiled sweetly at him and walked to the computer to charge him.

after running it, i flipped it over to read “CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO” on it.

aw, chris.

i walked back over to him and placed the receipt back on the counter, along with his card and a pink pen with a fluffy pom pom on the end.

“what’s with you and pink, babe?” he smirked at me.

“i just think it’s cute, anyways, have a great night. thank you for stopping in and come back soon. i’ve enjoyed our conversation.”

he poked his cheek with his tongue as he watched me clear the counter of his plate, and walk back into the kitchen. i could feel him staring holes through my skirt.

i placed the dirty dishes in the sink and walked back out, but he was gone.

the receipt on the counter was filled out, and i hoped to see his phone number, because that was a normal thing in this industry, i never cared for it until now though.

unfortunately that was not the case. on his tab of $14.12 he had left fifty-seven cents. totaling to $14.69.

with a winky face by the sixty-nine.

what the fuck?

i ran outside hoping to catch him, and he was there, walking to his car.

“christopher!” i shouted in his direction.

he snapped his head around, and smirked.

“what’s up babe?”

“listen, i don’t normally come after people when they stiff me but what the fuck was all that for? you come in and smooth talk me and now you’re stiffing me, writing down sixty-nines and winky faces? is that how you normally treat service workers?” i got all up in his face.

“and then you made me feel like there was something! i thought i li-“

he grabbed my cheeks and pulled me toward him, kissing me passionately.

“don’t call me christopher please, it’s chris. no actually, babe. i don’t like all that formal shit.”

i didn’t even know how to respond.

i stepped back and smoothed out my apron and cleared my throat.

“um, i-i dont even know what to say.” i stared at the him.

“i was trying to piss you off. i can assure you i’m an excellent tipper. trust, babe. i wanted you to follow me out here, see how much you really liked me.”

he pulled his phone out and opened up a new contact, then handed the phone to me.

i grabbed it and typed in my number, shocked but so intrigued by him.

he grabbed it back and erased where i wrote my name and typed in “babe”.

he gave me another kiss, but just a peck this time.

“see you later babe.” he winked then slapped my ass before walking away.

i stood there dumbfounded, before running back into the diner and pressing my back against the door.

my phone buzzed and i pulled it from my apron pocket.

(617) xxx-xxxx sent $69

(617) xxx-xxxx “;)”

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ahhhh omg i really like this one! hope u guys like it too 🤍

even though i’m new to this i’m super down for requests just lmk

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

[bokutosbiceps]

sakura blossoms (pt 2)

monkey d luffy x afab!reader | fluff | ~1k words

warnings: none !! pls enjoy 😁

a/n: this is pt 2 to the sakura blossoms series !! i will be posting pt 3, which is full of smutty smut, in an hour !! 😁

click here for pt 1 !!

click here for pt 3 !!

18+ MDNI

luffy’s heart is racing, it's gone around the earth twenty times and now it's shooting for the moon and landing amongst the stars.

he can't believe you're laughing at him. or laughing with him, hopefully. he honestly doesn't care what's making you laugh, as long as it's him. he wants to make you laugh like this forever.

“what'd you say?” you giggle, covering your mouth with your kimono sleeve. luffy finds himself subconsciously slightly bending to the side to keep your lips in his line of sight. 

“sing like that again—for me.” he demands. 

you're laughing again. he's delighted.

“what's so funny?” luffy can't help but chuckle himself, lips parting to make way for a gummy smile. 

“i've just…never been asked for an encore!” you smile at him. “i'm glad you liked my singing…?” you pause, realizing you don't know this cute stranger’s name.

but somehow it feels like you've known this man with a strawhat hanging off of his neck for your entire life.

“oh! sorry!” luffy becomes extremely aware that he's staring at you and he's completely forgotten to introduce himself. he remembers learning manners somewhere once. “i'm monkey d luffy! and i'm the man who's gonna become king of the pirates!”

your eyes widen and you take a step forward slightly, feeling an overwhelming amount of gratitude for this stranger—luffy. he's the man who saved your country.

you grab luffy’s hands and hold them to your chest, looking at luffy with admiration sparkling in your eyes.

“you're strawhat luffy, wano’s hero!”

“‘m not a hero. just wanted to help a friend, just wanted your country to have good food for whenever ya want.” luffy feels his face heating up and his palms produce tiny droplets of moisture when you hold him. 

you giggle at his indignance and step back, keeping his hands enclosed in yours.

“i'm still grateful! so, of course, i'll sing for you and your crew.” you beam at him and luffy’s heart soars. “i'm y/n, by the way.”

“not my crew.” luffy shakes his head. “just me.” he says firmly, a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips.

your eyebrows twitch in confusion, but you don't question him. instead, you take this time to really look at him. 

he has caramel colored skin, sun kissed on top of that, with fluffy black hair and a scar under his left eye. the strawhat, still hanging from his neck, seems like it's seen better days. but maybe not. wide chocolate eyes are staring into your own and his smile is all teeth and gums. 

he’s radiant. 

luffy then turns both of his hands outward, so that he's grabbing yours now, and he's pulling you.

“c’mon, we'll go somewhere else so you can sing for me!” 

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

you never end up singing for monkey d luffy.

he took you across a barren wasteland filled with beasts, one he promised wouldn't be barren anymore, then through a jungle in which a river flowed. he told you how that same river had made his friend sick after she'd given him her last portion of rice, and that's how he knew he had to help.

you end up in a small shack strewn up in the trees, and the conversations continue. luffy wove his story and you wove yours, working until the fibers of each were about to intertwine.

you've never felt so comfortable so fast with anyone, let alone a man. but luffy’s youthful exuberance and his ability to make you laugh with his natural honesty made you trust him.

and luffy, he likes you a lot. more than he thought possible. he'd always told himself he'd cast love and feelings and all that aside until he achieved his dream. now, he thinks that having two dreams isn't so bad.

he's curled around you, laying on his side with one leg braced underneath him and the other open on the wood flooring below. you're leaning back on him, his belly providing a hard yet somehow soft cushion for your head.

breaks in the conversation are never awkward. they're filled with little gasps whenever luffy would pinch your side or giggles whenever your fingers would find their way through his hair. 

but this break in conversation is different. it’s filled with a long stare on luffy’s part, a nervous glance on yours. luffy’s sharp inhale fills the little cracks.

“you wanna know what i first thought of you?”

you immediately feel nervous. you know luffy is blunt and you know he doesn't really think before he speaks, so you're dreading his next words.

he doesn't wait for you to answer. “i thought you were pretty.”

your heart is encircled in flames of all different colors. “i thought you liked my singing?”

luffy hums, shifting underneath you. you think he's going to pinch you again, but he instead brings his knees up so that they're touching your thighs and he props his head up on his hand to face you.

“yeah! but i thought you were pretty first!” and luffy is smiling again. 

“is that why you wanted me to sing for you alone?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling. you can feel luffy still staring at you. he gives an affirmative hum and you feel your heart rate quicken.

“i still haven't sung for you…” you say. 

“you don't hafta!” luffy sits up, effectively knocking your head from his abdomen but using his quick reflexes to catch your head and place it in his lap. “i want somethin' else now.”

“and what’s that, luffy?” your eyes glance up to regard the young pirate, who is still cradling your head in his hands while you rest in his lap. he's leaning forward, so close your foreheads are almost touching, and you can feel his ruffled hair tickle your face.

he stares at you for a second or two longer before his lips stretch out into a mischievous grin.

“you ever kiss anyone?”

“kiss?” you say dumbly, feeling your mouth go dry.

“yeah! sanji said that whenever i find someone i like and they like me, i should kiss ‘em!”

you can only blink at him. you have no clue who sanji is, but you're silently thanking him for saying such a thing to luffy.

“so, whaddya say, y/n? you wanna kiss me?”

i'm tagging everyone who commented on pt 1 saying they wanted a pt 2 or rb, also the regulars 😗

taglist: @lavenderhaze00 | @n1ght5h4d3-24 | @333vil | @scentisterror | @jaree101-blog | @louisechec | @luffysprincess | @usoppsstar | @lalalolojoot | @bfshoto | @nina-a-pines | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup

#one piece #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #luffy

[cowgurrrl]

It Ain't Me Babe

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: A holiday present from me to you ❣️

Summary: Ellie’s first art club meeting [2.8k]

Warnings: creative insecurity, mentions of financial instability, teacher things, Ellie talking about Sarah, more flirty flirt, I think that’s it??

Nothing has ever been as annoying or guilt-inducing as an unfinished piece of art. Sure, every artist— no matter the medium— has felt like an uncreative, unoriginal hack, but it still feels just as new as it did the first time. Moonlight streams through your window as you glare at the canvas, hoping for an idea or stroke of genius. It's late. You should be in bed, especially since it's a Sunday night and you spent your weekend working at the bar down the street. But you're holding a paintbrush between stained fingers and praying for a miracle. It's been eight months since you last sold a piece for a whopping $200, chump change when it comes to living in Austin these days. Even with two jobs and doing commission work, you're living paycheck to paycheck. Maybe that's why it's so hard to create? That has to be the reason. You don't remember it being this hard when you were younger.

Creating art was the only thing that brought you solace during your teenage years. It didn't matter if it was drawing, pottery, painting, sculpting. All that mattered was that you were doing it and you were good. You won awards, scholarships, and attention. Your art teacher, Ms. Henry, was a godsend. Grey-haired, glasses-wearing, colorful Ms. Henry glided through lessons and projects like it was second nature. She always had pencils in her hair, a mug in her hands, and a kind word on her lips when you entered her classroom. She's the one who pushed you to go to your artsy liberal arts college full of people richer and better than you. Even with her love and support, you struggled and almost dropped out after that first semester. 

"There's always someone better," she told you when you ended up crying across from her in a coffee shop. "But there's nobody in the world who can make what you will because there is and never will be another you. I mean, God, what a gift. I'd hate to see you waste it." That sobered you enough to keep going and eventually pursue a teaching certification. Ms. Henry has since retired to the Pacific Northwest with her wife, Mable, and sends you a postcard every once in a while because she believes smartphones will be the downfall of civilization. After so many years in education, you're ready to agree with her. 

You sigh, feeling your motivation fluttering away with your breath, and plop your paintbrush down in the cup engraved with the words "DO NOT DRINK" in bold. The canvas doesn't look like much of anything right now— just a mass of colors and shapes that could potentially pass as an abstract version of a landscape. It looks like the other painting you left at the school to work on when you have time. And the painting before that. And the one before that. You curse at exactly the same time your phone buzzes with a text. 

You awake?

You don't bother responding and go straight to FaceTiming her. She picks up on the second ring, her beautiful, round face greeting you with a smile. You met Andie during high school, and her effortlessly cool attitude and bulky violin kit quickly became a part of your heart. You two were inseparable all four years of high school, dividing your time between rehearsals and time spent in the studio, but college took you to art school and her to a prestigious orchestra program in Vienna. She's been there ever since graduation, playing for diplomats and royals alike, but she comes home for holidays, and you've been trying to save money to go see her. Being so far from her is hard, but you make it work. 

"Why are you awake?" You ask by way of a greeting, more than accustomed to your seven-hour time difference and her early riser habits. She laughs, and you hear a tea kettle whistle in the background. 

"Well, hello to you, too," she says. "I have rehearsals all day today, so I got an early start. Why are you awake?"

"I'm staring at my waking nightmare." 

"Oh, God, are you having another spiral?" 

"I'm a hack."

"You're an artist."

"I got rejected again this weekend," you say as if to prove your point, and she sucks her teeth. "They said my art didn't fit their vision for their exhibition, but to feel free and submit another time."

"Well, they must not know great art when they see it. There will be another exhibition and another chance for you to show off your amazing skills. And when you get accepted, which I know you will, I'll fly in, and we'll drink fancy champagne and talk shit the entire opening night." She says, and you sigh. Her persistent optimism is one of the things you love about her, but sometimes, all you want to do is sulk. 

"Or I could fly to you when your first composition gets performed, and we could do all those things in Austria instead of this shithole."

"Hey, some of us like that shithole."

"Some of us haven't lived in the shithole in ten years." 

"Touche," she concedes. "But I'm serious about what I said. You're a good artist, just going through a little bump in the road. One day, we'll be really sexy and successful, and we'll look back at this and laugh with our rich spouses while drinking expensive wine."

"One day," you say, smiling. "How are rehearsals going?" She groans at the question, and you laugh. Whenever you talk to her, she's working on a new show or with a new conductor and always has something to say. There are many things you could call your best friend, but lazy is not one of them.

"I feel like we're stuck on this one part, but the conductor won't listen to me. He says he knows better than I do, which might be true, but also, if he just listened to me, then we can move on. I don't know. I'm sure if I poke him enough, he'll have to listen to me."

"Sounds reasonable." 

"That's what I'm saying," she says as she shuffles her coffee mug and breakfast to her dining room table before checking the time. "It's midnight there. Don't you have school tomorrow?" She asks, and you sigh.

"And an early morning staff meeting and art club after school." 

"Sometimes, I worry about your mental health." She says, and you laugh a little too deliriously to prove her wrong. You stay up talking with her for a while before finally getting hit with a wave of fatigue and crashing into bed. 

The next day is not any less hectic than your weekend was. The staff meeting early in the morning is mind-numbing and completely unnecessary. The printer in the teacher's lounge breaks halfway through a heavy-duty print job, and you're left scrambling for new activities and lessons. Not only that, but your students were more out of control than usual, prompting a veteran teacher to come in and scold your class on your behalf. It would be kind if it didn't make you feel two inches tall and your students didn't look at you like you betrayed them. You spend your planning period indulging in the silence of your empty classroom and fighting off a migraine. 

The second the final bell sounds, your art club kids are knocking down your door, more than ready to work on their projects for the winter showcase. The winter showcase is hosted by a local art gallery that opens for submissions from students every fall. If a student's work is taken, it gets shown in the gallery, and they get entered into a prize to win money and a chance to paint a mural downtown. It's a big deal. So far, you haven't had a student win first place, but you've had them get very close. You always assure them you're proud of them no matter what, which is especially true when Ellie slinks into your classroom with a shy smile.

"Hey! We're just setting up supplies to work on stuff for the showcase. Do you have something to work on?" You ask, gesturing to the students working around the room in a buzz. 

"I think so. Are you gonna play music?" 

"Who do you think I am?" You make a face, and she laughs. "Why don't you find a spot and get comfortable while I queue up a playlist?" She hesitates for a second before she takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to approach another student to ask if she can sit with them. They start chatting easily, and her shoulders relax as she gets more and more comfortable with all the new people. You put on a random playlist and move around the room to answer any questions about colors or give an opinion when asked for one. Over the course of an hour, Ellie makes her own little group of friends, and they all talk as if they've known each other forever as they work. She seems so in her own element, and you can't fight the pride beaming in your chest. Okay, so maybe your job can be pretty cool sometimes. Not fame and fortune cool or traveling overseas cool, but cool nevertheless.

Students gradually start packing up their things and leaving when they get texts from impatient parents in the parking lot or close to dinner time, but Ellie stays behind, bobbing her head to a beat or bouncing her knee under the table. She's the only one left in the classroom when you start packing your stuff and preparing the room for the next day. "You've got a ride home, honey?" You ask, and she glances nervously between you and her phone.

"Yeah. My dad should be here soon." She says. 

"Alright, well, I've gotta lock up here, but I'll wait outside with you until he gets here."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It'd make me feel better knowing you weren't left behind. Plus, I'm the adult responsible for you until he picks you up, so it's kinda illegal for me to just leave you here." You say, and she looks hesitant again but nods. Together, you walk out of the classroom and through the empty hallways until you get out to the scorching September afternoon. You stand outside in silence for a few seconds, taking in the sunset, before you turn to look at her.

"How'd you like the club?" You ask. 

"It was fun! I met lots of cool people."

"I told you, kid. You just needed to give it a chance."

"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes, and you smile. "Thank you for pushing me to go. I don't think I would've gone without you." She's so genuine and kind in her tone that it throws you off-kilter. You're used to being berated by students, staff, and parents. To be told you actually had an impact on someone is not commonplace, to say the least. 

"I'm sure you would've found your way there without me." 

"Maybe, but you helped me get there a lot sooner than I would've on my own." She says, and you take a deep breath. It feels nice to be acknowledged, especially after the day you've had, and Ellie seems to sense it. You're looking for something to say when she looks down at her shoes and kicks a stray rock. "Just take the compliment and move on. Don't make it a thing." 

"Alright." You say, laughing, and she cracks a smile, too. Traffic will be horrible on the way home, and you have nothing to eat for dinner, but it's okay. You did one good thing today. That's all you need. 

"Sorry, my dad is taking so long." She changes the subject, a touch of anxiety creeping in, and you shake your head. 

"Does he always work late?" You ask, and she shrugs.

"Sometimes. Dad and Uncle Tommy have been picking up jobs to send money to my sister in Boston. "

"What's in Boston for your sister?"

"Medical school. She's about to go into her internship at a hospital there."

"That's a big deal." You say, and she hums. 

"Yeah. She'll probably save the world or something one day." There's a hint of something nostalgic in her voice, and you decide to push just a little. 

"Do you miss her?"

"A lot," she says. "She's my best friend."

"She's lucky to have you." You say. She smiles but doesn't say anything. You want to ask more about her family, but a rickety, greenish pickup truck comes rumbling through the parking lot before you can. Ellie shifts her backpack on her shoulder as her dad and uncle come into view, and you smile at them. Joel, however, looks frantic. 

He's unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the driver's side door before the car can even finish moving. There's dirt on his pants and a little bit of a sunburn across his arms, the muscles straining across the black fabric. He politely pulls the ball cap off his head to reveal sweaty curls as he approaches you, jerking his head toward the truck at Ellie. "Why don't you wait in the truck with Uncle Tommy? He's got a snack for you." He says, and Ellie lights up at the mention of food. When you're alone, he tucks his hands in his pockets and gives you an apologetic look. 

"'M so sorry. We got caught up at work and lost track of time. It won't happen again." He says, wringing his hands like he's waiting to be scolded, but you wave him off. 

"It's okay. Things happen, and I'm just glad she's got someone picking her up." You say. 

"How'd she do today?"

"Really good. I think she fits right in."

"She make some friends?"

"I can't give away all my secrets. What else are y'all gonna talk about at the dinner table?" You tease. 

"I guess that's right," he says as he stares at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "Thanks for waitin' with her."

"It was my pleasure." You say. You stand awkwardly for a few seconds, rocking back and forth on your feet. His eyes are locked in yours, and there's a silent competition to see who's gonna blink first. "Well, I should let you get home. Have a good night." 

"Uh," he starts, stopping you before you can even fully take a step. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't make me uncomfortable," you say a little too quickly, and he smirks. "I was very flattered. Besides, it's not the first time."

"Beautiful woman like you, I'm sure you've got 'em linin' the block for a chance with you." He says. You're dancing a delicate dance here. You're not not flirting, and you're not not interested in him, but if your principal finds out, it could cause a whole new world of problems. Still, it's nice to be wanted after so long of being on your own. You're not a saint, but you're also not doing anything inherently wrong, right?

"The teacher thing usually freaks 'em out before they can get very far."

"That's a damn shame." He's quick with it, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the line. A buzz in your bag reminds you of the time and why you're still at school, and you find your footing again. 

"Uh, I usually give out my contact information to the parents of my art club kids in case they need anything or need to contact me quickly. Since Ellie's an official part of that, I figured I should give you my phone number in case anything comes up. If that's alright?" You say, and he pulls his cracked phone from his back pocket. 

"Yeah, yeah. That's more than alright." He says, handing it to you to punch in your information. 

"It's for emergency purposes only."

"What d'you consider an emergency?"

"Mr. Miller-"

"Joel." He corrects, and you give him a look as you pass his phone back. 

"Don't abuse it. I'd hate to have to put you in a group chat with all the PTA moms."

"You're evil." He groans, and you laugh. Tommy, leaning over and honking the truck horn, interrupts your conversation, and he shoots daggers through the back window. 

"I'll see you next week, Joel." You say, dismissing him, and he hesitates for another second before nodding.

"See you next week." He says and turns on his heels to get back in his truck. You think you vaguely catch Joel scolding Tommy for being impatient, but you ignore his deep voice and the engine sputtering as you walk to your own car with a little more pep in your step than this morning.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (look at how many of you there are!)

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fic #the last of us au #joel the last of us #ellie the last of us #joel au #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #tlou hbo #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

[zhongrin]

kangen

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, xiao, kazuha

◇ tags ◇ cotton candy fluff

◇ a/n ◇ i'm naming my fics with indonesian words bc i can s h u s h

◇ note ◇ in english, "kangen" means "miss", as in "i miss you"

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

as we all know, zhongli has a good grasp of his emotions. he’s used to waiting and observing and reigning his wants, so even if he does miss you, he tries to restrain himself from making it your problem.

this doesn't mean that he won’t subconsciously seek you out, however. it’s very subtle, but if you know what to look for, you’ll notice that he’s actively making an effort to insert himself into your mind one way or another, even if he doesn't seem to be aware that his actions are betraying his thoughts.

one forehead kiss in the morning becomes two. him appearing to pick you up from work five minutes earlier than usual. the way he eagerly offers his arm instead of waiting for you to reach out to him. a sweeter undertone in his voice accompanied by an equally sweeter nickname. indeed, he doesn’t realize he’s doing some of these things, but if you do point them out and tease him about it, he’ll smile sheepishly and you might even catch a glimpse of color rising up his ears.

“ah… how unbecoming of me. it was not my intention to act so wantonly. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable, dear.”

it’s very rare for al haitham to come to seek you out first, but when he does, you know it’s been a while since you’ve adequately spent time with each other. that, or he just feels particularly needy - perhaps from a frustrating concept he couldn’t seem to grasp, or a mission had gone awry. when things aren't going as planned and when he just needs to have someone to cling to, he will crave your comfort the most.

he’ll patiently hover over you as you do your tasks. cooking? expect him to ask what he could help with, and even if you don’t need any real help, he’s more than happy to just watch over the pot so it won’t boil over, or even become your taste tester. cleaning? you can take the broom and he’ll take the mop. working on your papers? the chair looks very uncomfortable, wouldn't having him as your lap pillow would be better than the hard cushions? plus, he can double as your essay checker too. how convenient, surely you won’t refuse?

no, he’s most certainly not being needy, what nonsense are you spouting about now? just shush and let him hug you close like this.

you might think xiao can go without your presence for a whole month with no difficulties whatsoever, but you couldn’t be more wrong. xiao craves your presence like a withered qingxin wish for rainfall. he’s just good at pretending that he’s above such desires.

and even though he is a patient soul compared to most, just like how fallen snow on dragonspine will eventually pile up on untracked paths, there’s only so much the yaksha can take before he starts to unconsciously seek you out. the corner of his eyes twitches when his ears pick up the sound of your voice in the wind. the frown settling between his brows deepening when more hours pass without you calling his name…

“xiao?”

he’s there before the last syllable finishes forming on your tongue and your lips are still apart. with his signature scowl on his face and his toned arms crossed across his chest, he gives you a glare and a very minuscule pout. there is no hesitation in his movements when you grin and invite him for a hug.

“took you long enough."

kazuha is accustomed to yearning and longing - loneliness is something he deals with daily. he misses his dear father, his friend tomo and the others he’s left, his home country where the lighting shines eternal, the stray cats he used to feed at the back alley of his residence….

but those experiences don’t make it easier to deal with his emotion when it comes to missing you. ironic, really. he would have thought having you nearby would be enough, would make him less needy, but in fact, it’s proven to be the opposite. it’s so hard to not stare in longing when you’re so near yet so out of reach. he wants to respect your space, your freedom, as you do your day-to-day chores. he truly does…

he watches in shock and horror when beidou slaps your back and whispers something to you while pointing directly toward him. when you turn to face your boyfriend, he struggles to keep his expression neutral and manages a sheepish smile as you approach him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“soooo…. heard from beidou that someone’s been pining on me….”

“mmm… nothing escapes anego’s keen eyes. would you let me... accompany you, just for a bit? i have to admit… i have been missing your presence, my songbird.”

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @clovcly | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader

[eldritch-nightmare]

❝ it's not much, but i got you this. ❞

notes: prompt credit. i've never actually fully written anything for cody now that i think about it... i hope i do him nicely!! since it took me literally forever to post this, the other two prompts won't be valentine's base, though i may still use the prompts i chose for them bc. i like them. anyways!! i'm actually actively job hunting right now, which is why i've been so busy lately and haven't had much time to write. but i'll try working on some stuff soon!! for now, i hope you all enjoy this incredibly, very messy and late valentine's day post. thanks for being patient with me guys, it means a lot <3

pairing: x virus x gn!reader

word count: 983.

warnings: established relationship, fluff, cody is awkward as fuck when it comes to romance he's just like me frfr, wrapping paper is his biggest enemy, very mild angst like... a pinch of salt type of angst, cody is a perfectionist but idk if i portrayed that well enough here.

Cody stared at the clumsily wrapped gift placed in front of him, his arms crossed and his brows furrowed as he glared at the gift as if it had scorned him in some way.

And to him, it basically has.

You see, the gift he's been trying to wrap neatly and nicely is something he got for you, his lovely significant other. This is the first Valentine's Day he's spending with you, and while it doesn't have to be perfect, he would at least like to wrap your gift in a way that isn't... ugly.

It's not even that big of a gift. It's just a little bracelet he made in his spare time, so why the hell is it so hard to wrap in the little box he got for it?

He could just ask someone to help him wrap the gift, but that feels... I mean... it feels like that would be cheating? Strangely enough? Like... he made this for you, so he should be the one to wrap it up as well, no matter how annoying and how difficult it was starting to become.

It feels like it'll mean more if he does this himself.

But he's been here for like almost two hours now trying to wrap the box, and it looks so messy and it's covered in tape and honestly, the wrapping paper's color looks uglier and uglier the longer he looks at it and it just doesn't seem good enough for you. It could be so much better.

You deserve so much better. And if he could kill the wrapping paper, he would, truthfully.

Cody silently glares for a moment longer before letting out a sigh in defeat, resting his forehead against the surface of the desk in his workshop and grumbling quietly to himself.

The wrapping paper wins this round, but he'll do better next time.

With a huff, he sits up straight, giving the poorly wrapped box one final glance before grabbing it and standing up. It was time to actually give you the gift. And hope that you don't dump him for his poor wrapping skills. Do people do that? He's not sure. He hopes not. He'd hate for you to dump him.

Oh god, what if you dump him?

"Cody?"

"Fucking hell-" Cody nearly loses grip on the box in his hand when your voice suddenly pops up behind him, startling him so badly that he jumped a bit. He looked strangely similar to a dog that got caught doing something it wasn't meant to be doing.

And judging from the way he had quickly hidden his hands behind his back, awkwardly looking off to the side to avoid eye contact with you, you can't help but wonder if he had maybe done something.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asks, and your brow quirks up slightly at how strangely nervous he sounded. His behavior sort of reminded you of the day he had asked you out.

"Long enough to be concerned about whether or not I need to hide wrapping paper from you in the future." You respond, smiling a bit to yourself when you see Cody relax a bit at the joke you cracked.

"Ha ha. Funny." He blandly responds, though you don't miss the way his lips twitch upwards slightly. You deem your joke a success, even if he behaved otherwise.

"So, you wanna tell me what it is you're hiding behind your back? Or is it another one of your... projects?" You ask, crossing your arms and patiently waiting for his response.

And that made him tense up again.

He doesn't know why he felt so nervous about giving you a gift, poorly wrapped or not. I mean, you're literally dating each other, so he shouldn't get nervous like this, right? But also like, you're the first person he's ever dated and he honestly didn't think it would last this long even if it has only been a few months since he asked you out but still! Still!

He shouldn't be this nervous, honestly.

"Okay, so, like," He cringes slightly at the way his voice cracks a bit as he speaks, "Uhm, you know how it's Valentine's Day, right? I, uh, maybe it's silly but..." He trails off, seemingly debating whether or not he should actually continue before he's suddenly holding out a box in front of you.

It wasn't actually that poorly wrapped. Truthfully, it's way better than anything you could ever do. The wrapping paper was even your favorite color.

You take the box from him, glancing down at it before looking back up at Cody. He simply motioned for you to open the box, so you peel the wrapping paper off and do just that, taking the lid off the box to see the handmade bracelet neatly placed inside.

"It's not much, but I got you this," He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, "I mean, if you don't like it, I can make you something else! I know it's not the best thing in the world, but-"

"I love you."

He falls silent at your words, his nervous rambling cut off as he stares at you. You look up from the bracelet to stare at him, and your expression was so serious and genuine that it almost felt as if the air had been forced out of his lungs.

"Cody, I love you." You repeat.

"Oh," He stutters a bit, "I love you too." His words are a bit quieter compared to yours. It felt awkward saying those words out loud knowing you could actually hear him.

But the smile that bloomed on your face made him forget about all of that, and you nod, satisfied with his response, "Good. Now, help me make you one so we can match."

And who is he to say no to you and matching bracelets?

#x virus x reader #x virus x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you

[luv-gukkie]

cherry | 𖦊 : six

pairing: yandere! park jimin x f. reader, yandere! jung hoseok x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || yandere

summary: you’re the cherry on top of everything. the little girl in front of your parents; the gooody two-shoes of your family, friends, and everyone who knows you. so when you’re staring at the two bright, red lines on the pregnancy test. you know you’re fucked, you really do. especially when there’s not only one man, but seven.

word count: +1k

tags/warnings: nothing really!

notes: jimin is kinda catching up…hoseok made an appearance!!!

tag list: @bananamochidaisy @mageprincess7 @darkuni63 @princess-sunshyn @redeyezbloodymouth @bxcndd @iloverubberduckiez-blog

༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺

jimin's eyes stared back at the man in black. "i want you to do a job for me. an important one." the other man nods in agreement, "follow this girl. she's someone that i'll do anything for, she's my soon-to-be fiancé." jimin hands over a file with all your information and even a picture of you. he watches the man eye the file, flipping the pages and finally, he stretches his hand out in agreement. jimin smiles, "the money will go straight to your account. my assistant will email you the rest of the details of where to meet and more." shaking his trusted man's hand, "take care of her for me, and of course, yourself seo-jun." the man leaves without uttering a word, his food untouched and just his drink gone. always a quiet man with a taste for expensive alcohol just like when he was younger. jimin's head hurts after such a long day, he misses you already and yet, he doesn't want to see you. he feels anxious every time he thinks about, doesn't know what to believe. are you cheating on him? the purple-colored skin never leaving his mind. that's why jimin's gonna have seo-jun follow you, bring him back every tiny detail you do and where ever you go. he's not gonna lose to any scumbags you might be fooling around with. jimin isn't going to lose you.

seokjin spent the night with you. the pair stayed up until midnight, laughter filling the night with food placed all around the table. his eyes often glancing at the phone that stopped ringing with messages. never getting a chance to see who was texting you so much. you left him in your apartment eating by himself, promising to see him again after you come back from your classes. "why are you so busy all the time?" your best friend asked, a pout forming on her face. "just things, family things." you sat at your desk, greeting nolan with a small smile. "family, huh? do you visit them every week?" nolan questioned, a small smile on his face. "i try t—", "let's start the class!" the professor announced. but it didn't stop the three of you from talking to each other in secret. the lesson ended earlier than expected, all of you agreeing on visiting a coffee shop together. "i'll pay, don't worry." nolan took his credit card out with no problem. not a single glance at the price he was paying, just a quick swipe and he walked out without looking back. "thank you." you squealed at the excitement of having free food. "you're welcome. my parents finally put money into my account." he grinned, fiddling around with the card. after a while, all of you departed from each other with a good bye.

unaware of the man who watched the meeting from the corner of the room. taking pictures of the boy who offered to pay. his boss wouldn't like that at all. seo-jun send them all to his boss, who immediately responded. he drove behind the car the boy got in, following jimin's order to follow around the boy for the rest of the day. leaving you by yourself, no one left to watch you. not that you noticed either. after getting home, you called your parents for your usual meet up. you lived about two hours away from them. the two still living in your childhood home, where you learned to ride a bike and where you went to school. all your innocent memories. you yearn to ride a bike around the streets you used to run in. maybe a visit back home wouldn't be too bad. "i think i might visit you two." you say to the the phone that shows your parents' face. "oh please do! we miss you." their faces filled with happiness at a chance of seeing their daughter. "this sunday?" your parents quickly nod at the suggestion, "we'll have a small barbecue with the family!" you hear a door open from your phone before hearing a child's voice causing you to beam. "(y/n)! i miss you, please come back to visit me." your little brother begs, baby face pouting and tears at the brim until you finally accept. "i'll see you soon, mateo. bye!" you make a kissing face at the screen before it turns completely black.

a sudden knock at the door has you jolting up in fright. "who is it?" your mind wanders if you were supposed to meet with somebody until it hits you. you check the date and time, remembering the plans you made with a certain someone. "oh c'mon, did you forget me? already?" his voice yells through the locked door. you rush to open the door and let the bright man in. his presence immediately making your lips turn upwards. "hobi!" you shriek as he brings you into tight hug, spinning you around. there's peony flowers that he hands over to you after letting you down. a cute, huggable teddy that holds a heart filled with coconut filled chocolates. hoseok begins to speak without a single take for breath. he goes on and on about everything that has happened since two weeks ago. hoseok goes on to put the peonies into a vase, changing the other flowers that he brought. "i've missed you." you blush at his words, a little grin plastered on your face. "you did?" he hums in response, "i went to italy, brought back a couple of souvenirs for you." he tells you, pulling out a game board from his bag. "aww, you didn't have to, hobi." but all he does is shake his head, "of course i do. you're my girlfr-" he coughs in between, letting go of his sentence. "let's play. i'm gonna win this time." he smirks at you. "sure, hobi." multiple rounds later, hoseok and you are tied, always begging for another round. "i'll be right back. no cheating!" he yells in a stern voice while squinting his eyes. "i could never."

he comes back no later, "who's is this?" hoseok's tone is serious. your eyes widen at the blue toothbrush he carries along with him. "why do you have two?" his questions don't come to a stop. "who's been sleeping here, (y/n)?"

#bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere #bts smut #tw yandere #bts #bangtan #bts fic #park jiminie #jiminbts #park jimin #bts fanfic #bts army #bts x reader #hoseok #bts jhope #jhope x reader #jhope smut #hobi #bangtan jhope #yandere x reader #bangtan smut

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Baby fever yandere shigaraki x chubby fem reader noncon smut 

A/n: this took me two days of writing this and it's based on my post and my baby fever, I couldn't help it🥴💦💦 p.s. I know it's bad, leave me alone. AO3

Warnings: scummy shigaraki + choking kink + creampies + body worship + violent + tomura kidnaps reader + breeding + dead dove DO NOT EAT. MINORS/ANTIS/AGELESS DNI !!

Shigaraki never once thought of having children in his life nor caring about relationships, his main goal was to destroy hero society and make it better. He was at the mall casually walking too deep in his thoughts.

Tomura never thought about it until he saw you, he was breathless to the least. Your curvy body, the way you bounce happily coming out of a hot topic with hello kitty merch, very girly items too. He couldn't help but want to kidnap and lock you in his room to fill you up for hours… Then his thoughts start to get more dirtier by the minute, he bites his scarred lips to stop the groans coming out.

He thought about knocking you up and filling his semen inside your womb to imagine if your belly would get bigger.

His body has a mind of its own instead of heading to the gamestop for games, his main goal was to get you alone.

He quietly follows behind you, he almost laughs at how you clearly weren't looking at your surroundings and happily humming heading home.

What? Just because there heros around doesn't mean you're safe.

Once you're heading to a dark alley it was His time to strike quick to his feet, he put his hand around your throat and almost choked you while you're struggling. It turns out you're putting up a fight, the items fell to the trash cover ground.

Tomura had to wrestle with you until he pinned you down on your back with his hand on your throat. Your frightened tearing eyes were turning him on more.

" Wow… you're a pain.. but fuck I love it when they fight back. " Your eyes were dilating fast, he felt your legs trying to kick or thrust your hips up to get him off of you but it was making him grunt out.

" Ooohh I see you're still fighting back. " He chuckled darkly. " Stop struggling more or you will accidentally disintegrate by my quirk. " His pinky wiggled close to your neck as your eyes were practically bulging out and went limp. Mhmm fuck, that hot he thought to himself.

" Heeh good now you're listening.. you gotta be good for me and your life wouldn't be wasted. " He leans in to lick the side of your face up to your ear as he begins nipping it.

He can hear your choked out cries and sob for help.

He can't wait to take you ' home ' and break you down until you're nothing but wanted him and his cock only.

He grabs both of your hands up and finally releases the hold of your neck, costing you to gasp for air and breathing heavily.

" You're coming wit-.. "

He felt a wetness on his cheeks as he realized you spit at him.

" Fuck you-.. " he begins to choked you more as he begin to tsk at you.

" Such a fucking brat… don't worry I'm planning on destroy that attitude of yours. " Your eyes went wide, he's waiting for you to lose consciousness, your eyes blinked fast and you're starting to feel lightheaded.

He chuckled again as your body isn't moving.. 

You slowly wake up, was it a dream.. you feel comfortable in the soft sheets only to realize this isn't your bed nor your room.

You begin to move only to hear rattle noises, your eyes see both your ankles and wrists in chains.

" Oh good you're awake so we can have some fun. " Chills running down your spine as you see him in the chair with the bright colorful light coming from his computer.

He slowly turns around as you start to cry out, he looks like a sleep paralysis demon that you get from nightmares and this is one of them that turns into reality.

" Please I don't wanna be here I-.. " he begins to get up and walk close to you so close that you see his red eyes stare into your soul.

"Shut up, you talk too much… oh I know." You started to gag out as he shoved three fingers in your throat, you mentally remember his quirk and his deadly hands touching your tongue.

"Aww where that back talk? Struggling to answer that baby." He purrs at you, your head is pulled away roughly as you look into his cold heartless stare.

"You're gonna take what I give you." You watch his smile turn more sinister by the second. " I'll impregnate you, giving you our greatest spawn of life. " Your lip starts to shake in fear. 

"You… you can't DO THAT-! I DON'T WANT THIS!!" You scream at him only to laugh at your face. 

He proceeds to decay his own clothes off as you keep screaming at him to stop.

Tomura has enough of your screams so he shoved his throbbing manhood into your mouth, you bit his dick only for you to get slapped in the face hard.

Your hiccups sobs were only the thing echoing in the room.

Tomura shoves his length back into your mouth as you begin to suck more and licking the underside of his cock.

"Aww the baby finally got their bottle, are you calm now brat?" Tomura coo at you as if you're an infant.

His narrow hips thrust into your mouth as he starts to get rough and fast, you couldn't fight back or push his hips away from these chains.

He groans loud as he grabs a handful of your hair making you focus down more of his cock.

He quickly pulls away and you pant like a dog in heat.

Shigaraki gets on the bed as you begin to shake uncontrollably so that you know what is coming.

He grabs his hot throbbing dick tap your clit then begins to hotdog your entrance, his cock between your lips as he groans out.

"Please… stop." He chose to ignore your pleas and went fast. You felt his tip almost hit your entrance and finally you gave in.

You look into his lustful eyes as he stares back at you unsettling.

"Please… fuck me." Tomura pauses as he tilts his head to the side.

"What?" You turned away embarrassed but he forcefully grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

"Say it again." Your eyes twitch with anxiety.

"Please fuck me-.." no waring shigaraki slammed his cock inside of you costing you to scream out.

Your cries didn't last long as Tomura began to aggressively make out with you, he slid his slimy tongue inside as your tongues fight for dominance but clearly tomura was stronger than you.

The pain in your lower abdomen gets stronger each time shigaraki slammed his hips to yours.

The squenching rings in your ears and the sound he makes, deep growls and scratchy whines.

You feel hot liquid in your womb to realize he is reaching his orgasm.

His cock twitching as his semen fills you up.

You watch tomura's hand move to your ankles and proceed to decaying the metal chain, your legs now free.

Shigaraki pushing your thick thighs over your chest, making you into a mating press and pounding into your tight hole.

The sweat coming down from his face as your cry echo out more and your fingers dig on your palms, this fucking hurts.

Tomura sighs heavily as you feel more of his cum hitting your walls.

You start to notice your belly getting bigger… holy shit.. how much cum does he have ??

"Fuck… look at you." Tomura grabs your chin as he makes you stare into his lustful crimson eyes.

"Carrying all my babies inside of you.. aughh fuck." His hand goes to your belly areas and proceeds to rub it with care and gentleness.

It catches you off guard, his thrusts heavy and rough but his hand movement seems more careful and sincere.

Your eyes roll back and scream out, you don't know how many orgasms you've gotten up to but you start to feel lightheaded and overstimulated.

Tomura twisted your body around so you were on your knees, it was an uncomfortable position.

Shigaraki begins to aggressively bite your shoulder area, your neck covered up with bruises and bite marks.

Your tear sliding down your face as you felt his hands caressing your swollen belly then grabs your hips to get more rough, you felt his tip hitting your cervix, your cries louder each time he hit it.

" Shit I'm coming again aughh fuck-! " Tomura wraps his arms around your neck putting you in choke hold.

The ringing echo in your ears and you start to reach your high, you never had this intense orgasm in your life. The skin slapping skin, heavy cries and choked out moans were music to his ear.

Your wall contracting around his cock making him reach his end, more cum filled you up, you can feel his sticky heavy liquid sliding down your thick thighs.

It all went quiet, only the sound of his breathing and the smell of sex and sweat in the air.

Tomura removes his arm from your neck, you can feel it hot and hurting.

Shigaraki leans in to give soft kisses to your face, you feel numb, your body limp, unable to move.

"Don't worry baby, I'm letting you rest so we can go for more rounds." He removed himself as he put new boxers on as he moved to the computer.

"I'll clean you up after I finish, don't make a peep." You were too tired to make a sound or more.

Heavy sleep slowly consumes you.

#tw abuse #tw rape #tw noncon #tw yandere #shigaraki tomura #x reader #smut #fanfic #minors dni #mha #bnha #tomura x reader smut #tomura shigaraki x chubby reader

[chronicbeans]

Dead Plate (Haunted AU) x Reader (Part 1)

Training time!

Prologue, Part 1

TW: None

You wake up in a cold sweat. You don't remember it, but you are pretty sure you had a nightmare of some kind. You look to your clock, seeing that it's 3 in the morning. You sigh shakily, knowing that you don't have any time to try to go back to sleep. You beat your alarm by a whole hour, but you know that if you fall asleep again, you'd probably sleep through it.

You quickly take a small shower, before having some cheap cereal for breakfast. Then, you brush your hair and put on a nice outfit. You may not have the best first impression of your boss, but you want to make a good first impression on him! Plus, you don't have your uniform, yet... so, you might as well dress nice to give yourself some confidence.

After getting dressed, you hear the harsh noise of your alarm, screaming at you that it's 4. Sighing in disdain, you realize that you're stuck waiting for thirty minutes with nothing to do. You've already gone through your morning routine... though, you should set your alarm for 3:30 next time, since it took you longer than expected.

Looking out your window, you see that it's still dark out, as to be expected. It's not only early in the morning, but it's also winter... Man, you really don't like driving in the winter. Screw it, you're heading to work early, just so you don't have to spend thirty minutes dreading the drive. You put on a light coat, which is your only coat, then head to your car.

You arrive around 4:30, only for you to be hit with the sudden realization that you might've arrived too early. What if the doors are still locked? Heading out of your car, you march on up to the doors of La Gueule De Saturne, ready to knock on the doors-

You yelp, startled as they open before you can even knock on them. Looking up, you see a ghostly pale man with black hair and tired eyes. He looks expressionless, or as close as you've seen to expressionless on somebody before, at least. His eyes are locked onto you, as he speaks in a familiar voice.

"You're rather early... You must be the new waiter I hired." "Oh! Um... yes! I'm (Y/N) (L/N)." "Come in, then. Since you're early, we can start your training early." Damn it. You hoped he'd give you some time to rest... then again, this is a job. You follow him inside, looking around the main area.

It looks very lavish, if not a bit bleak. Greys, beiges, and white make the main colors of the dining area, with splashes of red velvet here and there. There's four tables with two seats each, two booths with four seats, and... two tables with one seat? You've never seen any restaurants with tables for one, before. Maybe a few cafés, but not full-blown restaurants.

Suddenly, Vincent points to a wall of the dining room, speaking in a slightly stern voice. "There is the partition window. When customers orders are ready, they'll be set on the counter there. Grab them and serve them to the correct guests." You follow where he's pointing, quickly spotting the partition window. Before you can comment on it, he points to the register. Wait... you're going to be working everything out front, aren't you?! You didn't sigh up for this!

"You're going to also seat the guests, as well as collect the money they pay for there meals. You'll earn tips. Make sure the customers like you, because they'll tip you higher. That, and you're the only waiter here." You stammer a bit at that, looking more than a little shocked. You don't argue, though. You want this job... You need this job. You aren't going to risk it. "Alright, Chef Charbonneau."

You turns to face you, again... He then crosses his arms, looking at you with a serious expression. "You better be good at your job. You are already making a better impression than the last waiter, but that doesn't mean you won't be able to let me down. I'm very strict, and have high standards."

You nod, looking back to him. There's an awkward silence, before he sighs and looks to the side. "You know you can talk to me, right? I may be strict, but I'm not a drill sergeant." You quickly nod, again, stammering. "Oh, yes! I just uh... I'm not the best at making conversation." He chuckles halfheartedly, before sighing.

Smiling, you are about to continue, before he cuts you off. "If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen. The doors to the kitchen are over there." Vincent then points behind him, before continuing. "You can talk to me whenever you need something."

You look to the kitchen doors... seeing a small tuft of orange hair peeking from behind the circular window. It's probably one of the chefs. You look back to Vincent, nodding again. "Alright, Chef Charbonneau. What should I do while I wait for the bistro to open?"

His dark, tired eyes trail up to a clock nearby, causing your own (E/C) ones to follow. It's 5, now, so you have an hour. "Familiarize yourself with this room until then. I'm going to go get you your uniform." "Yes, Chef Charbonneau!" Then, the strange chef disappears into the kitchen.

You get to work, walking around the dining area and observing everything. There's a gray carpet, as well as a red one by the check-in area... this is actually pretty boring. You're basically just walking in circles around the room. The most exciting thing is when you saw a young lady walk by the window outside.

You hear the door to the kitchen open, as a lesser chef walks over to you and hands you your waiter's outfit. They then rush you to a restroom to get changed, handing you a bag to put your clothes into after you get the uniform on.

You walk out back to the dining room right in time to start working. 6 o'clock has hit. You see a few guests come in, finally giving you something to do. Quickly running over, you sit them down at a table for four. Writing down their requests on a notepad, you walk over to the partition window and hand the kitchen their orders.

As you do so, you notice something peculiar... none of the cooks have orange, or even ginger hair. They all have dark hair, with one person having blonde hair. That, and Vincent is staring at you like a hawk. You try to pay no mind to it... maybe the guy with orange hair is just out of view from the window? Either way, it's not important. You have to continue work.

The rest of the day goes by without any problems. Collecting your tips, you count them out to being around a hundred or so dollars. You help with closing, sweeping the floors and cleaning the tables, before looking to Vincent as you leave. "Have a nice night, Chef Charbonneau."

He looks to you, looking slightly shocked, like you had knocked him out of some odd daze. He slowly nods, before waving in return. "You, as well. Be sure to get here on time, tomorrow." "I got here early, so I'm sure I'll be on time, tomorrow." "The last waiter came in late on his second day... Just be on time." "... Okay..." That man is weird.

You nod in acknowledgement, then begin walking to the exit. The day has ended, and quite honestly, you need some rest... That, and you want to get to sleep early, just to spite you boss by being early two days in a row.

#dead plate #dead plate au #dead plate x reader #vincent charbonneau #vincent charbonneau dead plate #rody lamoree #dead plate rody #rody lamoree dead plate #marieanne vacher #manon vacher #dead plate manon #Haunted AU

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Jack starts babbling which is... funny. Hiccup is the babbler between the two of them. For all his flair and fun times, Jack is surprisingly introspective and quiet when he wants to be. Whereas Hiccup's anxiety explodes outwards, Jack just curls into himself. That's how he vanishes so easily from parties. When people go looking for him, expecting noise and a flurry of movement, less people notice him when he hushes up and falls behind.

There's an art to it, something that he - clumsy and awkward Hiccup - can't quite master. Jack can get any ball rolling, pushes it right off a cliff until people are carried away by their own laughter, swept right off their feet. Then in his cleverly created commotion, he just... slides right out, quick and clean and easy. People don't realize he's gone until hours after, when the ball finally comes to a stop.

So... Babbling. Hiccup does that. Jack doesn't. Learning about him takes an awful amount of patience, literally like waiting for water to thaw. He doesn't just talk talk talk. But he is, right now, about Nightlight. Because yeah, okay, Hiccup should have seen that coming. Jack would come apart about Nightlight - it's like Nightlight is a very important person to him, or something. As if Hiccup hadn't witnessed or listened to all the times Jack spoke about a missing part in him! Hiccup shouldn't be so surprised and now he's frustrated at his own surprise which is just... great.

"You... are not listening, are you?"

Hiccup blinks, finding Jack uncomfortably close. He jerks back. "Whoa! What? Yes, I was!"

"So you heard the part about me eating yellow snow?"

"You what?!"

"See!! You weren't listening!!"

Hiccup rubs a hand over his face. "Okay, fine. Sorry. I just... Wouldn't it be better to tell Nightlight about all this? Since he's your Other Half..."

Yeah, this is incredibly mature of him, honestly. He's not being petty at all, noooope.

Jack laughs that bright, tinkling laugh of his. Hiccup feels his stomach drop to his knees. He could listen to Jack laugh forever, he really could.

"Hic... I think... There's been a misunderstanding? But also it's hard to understand in the first place. I think the closest explanation would be... You know how Toothless is your best friend? Who understands you better than anybody? And at some point, you literally completed each other - him needing you to fly and you needing him to fly, that sort of thing? Well... It's like if you woke up one day and you had to share the same body."

Hiccup thinks this over, weirds himself out, then thinks it over some more. "I can... I can kinda imagine that?"

"Good, because my thing with Nightlight is only sorta like that. It's the closest thing but it's not exactly like that. For one thing, me and Nightlight never had separate bodies like this before. I never got to know Nightlight as someone outside of me. It used to be... hard sometimes, to see where he starts and I end. But... not in a bad way. He was - I was - We were something completely new. And now..."

Hiccup knows this part, grown familiar with this - the waiting. Jack has spoken more than he's ever spoken before, but Hiccup can tell that he's still only saying half of his thoughts. There's a lot more hiding under that shock of white hair.

"... Well, the point is... We're not together... like that. I wasn't, you know, flirting with you just for kicks and giggles."

Yeah, that makes sense. Of course, Jack... Wait. Uh. What. Wait. No. Wha- He? Then? At Hiccup? Huh?!?

"Aaaaaand I broke him. I think I broke him. Hiccup are you in there? Blink once for yes, twice if no!"

"You!"

"Me?"

"You - You - You said that men loving men was not done from where you came from!"

"Ah, yeah... But I also had like 300 years of experiences that were more or less coloring my perspective of the world, whether I realized it or not."

"You were flirting with me? Since when??"

Jack adopts a positively sly look. "Since... You showed me your big black dragon..." He wags his eyebrows. "... Then took me on a ride, up and down, and up and down."

Hiccup gives him a flat look, grabs Jack's hood and pulls it over his face. "Whenever you're ready to take this a little more seriously, just let me know."

Jack struggles briefly with pushing up his hood but when Hiccup finishes speaking, he pulls it further down, hiding his eyes. "Weren't you listening, Hics? I've... I've always taken this seriously. This, I mean - I've always been real about you, anyways. I..."

Oh. "Oh." Oh!

Jack shuffles back a few steps, hunching over, keeping his head low, and out of sight.

And Hiccup is... He isn't many things. But he does like to think of himself as smart, and... And he can put the pieces together - that he and Jack and Jack's Nightlight might have to stay apart.

#jack frost #hiccup haddock #hijack #frostcup #rise of the guardians #guardians of childhood #how to train your dragon