#and if I did nothing wrong then there is no responsibility on me to resolve the way they feel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rizzanon · 27 days ago

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02 | A QUITTER?

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The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.

Bruce’s brows furrowed, his usually calm expression giving way to faint confusion. “You’re… quitting?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, silence filled the cavernous Batcave, save for the faint hum of the Batcomputer. He studied you, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly as though trying to read your mind. “Why?” he asked finally, his voice measured, almost clinical.

You froze, caught off guard. Why? Why had you suddenly decided to quit? Sixteen-year-old you wouldn’t have even entertained the idea. This life was everything she had worked for—every patrol, every bruise, every sleepless night fueled by a desperate need for validation. Why had the words come so easily to you now?

Your mind reeled, racing to string together an explanation that made sense. After a long pause, you took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Because… you were right,” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “This life… it was never meant for me. I was just too dumb to realize it before. But now, I do.”

The admission felt strange, almost foreign. Sixteen-year-old you wouldn’t have said that—not to him, not to anyone. And yet, as the words left your mouth, they felt right.

Bruce didn’t respond immediately. He just watched you, his gaze intense, cold, and calculating. You could almost feel him inspecting every inch of you, every nuance in your expression, searching for cracks in your resolve or signs of insincerity. The weight of his scrutiny was almost unbearable, and you found yourself holding your breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he leaned back slightly and nodded. “If that’s what you’ve decided,” he said simply, his tone unreadable. Without another word, he turned back to the Batcomputer, his eyes scanning the reports as if the conversation had never happened.

You blinked, stunned. That easy? He really just let you go like that?

For a moment, a flicker of relief passed through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by another thought: Just how much did he not want you to take up the Batgirl mantle? The thought gnawed at you, but you shoved it down, forcing yourself to nod.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked back toward the staircase, your footsteps echoing in the vast space.

As you ascended, you couldn’t help but glance back once, but Bruce didn’t move, his attention fixed on the screen. You pressed your lips together and forced yourself to keep going.

Bruce heard your footsteps fading up the stairs, each one echoing through the cavern like a countdown. He stared at the Batcomputer, his hands resting motionless on the console. But his eyes weren’t scanning the reports anymore.

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing over his shoulder as the clock door slid shut behind you. His expression hardened, his brows furrowing deeply.

Something about this felt… wrong. Letting you walk away like that—it felt final, like a line had been drawn in the sand. A line he couldn’t cross.

You’d said you were quitting because the life wasn’t meant for you. Bruce should be relieved that you were no longer putting yourself on the line, no longer risking your life for the sake of crime-fighting.

But now, it was as if he was watching you slip through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Should he have said something? Say what exactly? That you shouldn’t quit being Batgirl? That he wanted you in his this life?

Bruce clenched his jaw and forced himself to look back at the screen, willing the unease in his chest to go away. He told himself it was for the best. He already long knew that this path was never meant for you.

And yet…

A faint, nagging voice whispered at the back of his mind, telling him he’d made a mistake. That letting you go like this wasn’t just about the Batgirl mantle—it was about you. About him. About the growing distance between the two of you.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on it, not now. Pushing the thoughts aside with the same discipline he applied to every other personal distraction, Bruce returned his focus to his work.

But that unease lingered, a heavy weight in his chest that no amount of reports or missions could quite shake.

“Richard,” Damian began, his tone flat and serious. “What does it mean when a girl cuts her hair short?”

The fast-food restaurant buzzed with the usual cacophony of clinking trays and murmured conversations. Damian sat stiffly across from Dick, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in a way that made it clear he’d rather be anywhere else.

Dick, mid-bite of his burger, froze. Slowly, he put the burger down, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. Then, with a sly grin, he leaned forward. “Why’re you asking? Is there someone who caught your eye, little D? Someone from school, maybe?”

Damian scowled, his cheeks tinging slightly pink. “Do not be absurd. This is not about me.”

Dick chuckled, brushing crumbs off his hands. “Oh, so it’s not about you. But you want my expertise on the matter? Man, I didn’t know you valued my opinion so much.”

“I don’t,” Damian snapped, his glare intensifying. “But you’re a certified idiot when it comes to women, so your insight into their ridiculous behavior might be useful.”

“Ouch.” Dick placed a hand over his heart, feigning injury. “And here I thought we were bonding.”

“We’re not,” Damian replied flatly, though his posture shifted in discomfort.

At that moment, Tim approached the table, balancing a tray piled high with burgers and fries. He slid into the booth beside Dick, setting the tray down with a thud.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked, popping a fry into his mouth.

“Damian here wants to know why a girl would cut her hair short,” Dick said, his grin widening. “And apparently, I’m the expert on ‘ridiculous behavior.’”

Tim raised an eyebrow at Damian, who was now scowling at both of them. “Uh… okay. Who are we talking about?”

“It’s about… (name),” Damian muttered.

The lighthearted teasing immediately stalled. Tim and Dick exchanged a quick glance, their expressions shifting to something more serious.

Dick, however, quickly recovered, leaning back in his seat. “Nah, no way. (name) wouldn’t cut her hair. She’s been growing it out for years. You’re making this up.”

“I am not,” Damian snapped, crossing his arms. “You’ll see for yourselves later if you’re too thick-headed to believe me.”

“Okay, first of all, rude,” Dick said, grabbing a fry. “Second, I don’t know, man. She’s always been pretty attached to her hair. Like, she used to freak out if even half an inch got trimmed too short when she was younger.”

Damian scoffed audibly, narrowing his eyes at Dick. “Tsk. It’s not just a trim, Grayson. She cut her hair to her shoulders.” He said the word shoulders like it was a personal affront. “And it looks ridiculous.”

Dick frowned immediately. “Don’t say that, Damian,” he chided, but then his voice trailed off as his mind wandered. Shoulders? That was… really short.

His brow furrowed slightly as he thought about it. Had you really cut your hair? You were always so particular about it. He remembered vividly the offhanded comment you made years ago about how you liked your hair long because it made you feel elegant, pretty—like yourself.

Wait, years ago?

That sinking feeling began to gnaw at him. Sure, people changed their preferences all the time, but this felt… odd. Why now? Why so drastic?

“Grayson?” Damian’s sharp tone cut into his thoughts. “Are you malfunctioning, or have I rendered you speechless for once?”

“Huh?” Dick blinked, refocusing on the youngest Wayne.

“Useless,” Damian muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “I should have known better than to seek advice from you.”

Dick snapped out of it, shooting Damian a half-hearted glare. “Hey, you came to me, remember? And cutting hair isn’t ridiculous; it’s just a personal choice. People grow, Damian. Maybe she just… wanted a change.”

Damian raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Wanted a change? That’s the best you can come up with? Tt. I thought you were supposed to be insightful.”

“Okay, first of all,” Dick said, pointing at him with a fry, “you’re lucky I don’t throw this at you. And second, you’re the one acting all worked up about her hair. I’m just trying to figure out why you even care.”

“I don’t care,” Damian replied curtly. “I simply have standards, unlike you.”

“Oh, trust me, buddy, we know your standards are very high.” Dick smirked. “For someone who claims not to care, you’re putting a lot of energy into this.”

Damian glared, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I will not waste further time explaining myself to a fool.”

“Love you too, Dami,” Dick said with a cheeky grin, earning an eye roll from the younger boy.

Tim, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “Alright, so… are we just going to sit here debating haircuts, or are we going to eat?”

“Good idea,” Dick said, popping a fry into his mouth. But the momentary distraction didn’t stop his mind from circling back to you.

Why did you cut your hair? Was it really just a preference change? Maybe.

Damian’s voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts again. “Grayson, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring into space like a dim-witted cow.”

Dick sighed, shoving a fry into his mouth. “Great talk, Damian. Really helpful.”

“Likewise,” Damian muttered, clearly unimpressed.

But Dick was already tuning him out. He needed to check in with you later. He heard you had patrol tonight—or at least that’s what Barbara had mentioned. Wait, why didn’t you tell him that yourself?

Whatever. He’d figure it out. If you were on patrol, he’d just join you and ask about that then. That is, if Damian doesn’t insist later on being his patrol partner…

Maybe it was nothing…

Tim sat in the booth, idly picking at a fry as his mind wandered. He’d been the one to steer the conversation away from your haircut, but now he couldn’t help but think about what Damian had said. You cut your hair? That didn’t sound like you at all.

Then again, what did Tim really know? It wasn’t like the two of you were close. Despite living in the same manor for the past three—almost four—years, there had always been this… distance between you.

He frowned, resting his chin on his hand. It hadn’t always been that way. He remembered the earlier days, when both you and him were just starting out. Back then, you used to ask him the most ridiculous questions about cases and missions—questions that made him pause and wonder if you were even paying attention to the briefing.

“What do you mean, ‘How do you know which lead to follow?’” Tim had asked once, incredulous. He’d given you a look, that signature are you serious expression he reserved for when someone asked something truly baffling. Then, as always, he ended up solving the issue himself, bypassing the need to answer you at all.

At the time, it was mildly annoying but manageable. He figured you were just trying to find your footing. He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. But gradually, the number of times you came to him for help lessened. At first, Tim thought it was progress, that you were finally figuring things out on your own.

But no.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that your work was slipping. You’d miss key details, overlook evidence, or focus on the wrong leads entirely. And every time, it was Tim who ended up fixing it behind the scenes, covering for your mistakes before they could turn a case—or worse, a mission—into a disaster.

He hadn’t minded at first. But as it kept happening, as he kept watching you barrel forward with that same stubborn, hard-headed determination, something shifted.

Tim’s frustration grew. He started to wonder why you were even in this line of work. If you couldn’t handle the basics, what were you doing risking your life out there? Of course, he never said it out loud. He wasn’t that cruel, and he knew voicing those thoughts would probably lead to a fight neither of you wanted.

But still, it gnawed at him. That unspoken tension built over time, creating the invisible wall that now sat between you. He’d distanced himself on purpose, convinced that staying out of your way was better for the both of you.

But was it?

Tim sighed, pushing his tray of fries away as Damian and Dick bickered in the background. Now, the idea of you cutting your hair had wormed its way into his thoughts, and he couldn’t shake it.

You cut your hair.

It wasn’t about the haircut itself—it wasn’t about aesthetics or style. It was about what it represented. Something had changed. Had you?

And while Tim told himself he didn’t care, deep down, a small part of him wondered if he’d made a mistake keeping you at arm’s length all this time.

“Hold up, Babs, why exactly am I needed at the Batcave tonight again?” Stephanie said, twisting the tool in her hand to tighten a small screw.

She sat at Barbara’s clocktower, absentmindedly flicking through her phone while doing a small repair on one of her gadgets. She was content, for the moment at least, doing something mindless and waiting for whatever task Barbara would assign her for the night.

But when Barbara called her name and asked her to suit up for the night, Stephanie couldn’t help but frown.

Barbara sighed, her voice a little tired but still managing to hold a calm tone. “Tonight, we’re a little short-handed, Steph.”

“A little short-handed?” Stephanie repeated, letting out a disbelieving scoff. She glanced up at Barbara, clearly unimpressed. “How can it be short-handed when she’s around?”

Barbara knew who Stephanie meant by “she”. Why? Because you used to grab every mission or patrol you could, like you were always hungry for action, hungry for validation. There had always been this one-sided animosity between you and the blonde—more so you toward her. And it wasn’t like Stephanie was oblivious to the reason why.

It was because she’s Batgirl too. When Barbara and Dick allowed her to don the cowl during the events after Bruce’s “death,” Stephanie had been given the opportunities you wanted for yourself. Barbara knew that too, but she had chosen not to intervene, thinking that the animosity you felt would die down after a while.

Well, it did. But not in the way anyone expected.

Barbara adjusted her glasses as she leaned back in her chair. “(Name)’s not around tonight.”

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, confused by the simple statement. “Well that’s a first. Why not?”

Barbara hesitated, the words slow to come. “She… she quit.”

“…..”

“WHAT??!?”

Barbara didn’t flinch at the outburst, her calm demeanor masking her own lingering confusion.

“Wait, wait,” Stephanie said, waving her hands in the air like she was trying to physically stop Barbara from speaking nonsense. “She quit? Are we talking about the same person? (Name) Wayne? The same person who basically begged to be Batgirl?”

Barbara shrugged slightly. “Bruce told me earlier today. Said she came into the cave, and told him she was done, and walked out. That’s all I know.”

“That’s all you know?” Stephanie repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. She shook her head, scoffing. “That’s insane. She’s gotta be pulling some kind of dramatic move. Like, I don’t know, trying to get some attention or whatever. She’ll come back. Give her, like, two days, tops.”

Barbara frowned, though she didn’t entirely disagree. You were the type to make bold, emotional decisions, always seeking to prove yourself in some way. But there was something about how quiet and decisive you’d been when you quit that didn’t sit right with her.

“You don’t think she’s serious, do you?” Stephanie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Barbara admitted. “It’s… unlike her, I’ll say that.”

Stephanie scoffed again, shaking her head as she stood up to grab her Batgirl suit. “Whatever. I’m calling it now—she’ll be back, and when she is, I’m going to remind her just how ridiculous she’s being.”

Barbara watched Stephanie slip into her suit, her mind racing with questions she didn’t have answers to. This wasn’t like you at all. You were persistent, stubborn even. You fought tooth and nail for the Batgirl mantle, always pushing to prove yourself despite the doubts and obstacles.

For you to just walk away, without warning, felt… wrong.

As Stephanie tightened her utility belt and prepared to head out, she didn’t notice the far-off look in Barbara’s eyes. Even if you were planning to come back, the decision to quit felt too deliberate, too final.

And for the first time in a long time, Barbara found herself worrying about you in a way she hadn’t before.

After telling your father that you quit—and seeing how easily he let you go—you couldn’t stop replaying the scene in your head.

You walked through the halls of Wayne Manor, your mind heavy with frustration, confusion, and a gnawing emptiness that you couldn’t quite name. As you turned the corner, too lost in your thoughts to pay attention, you bumped into someone.

“Sorry,” you muttered automatically, not even looking up at first. But when you did, you froze.

Cassandra.

She stood in front of you, already suited up in her sleek black Bat costume, the faint outline of her emblem catching the light. She looked ready for patrol, or maybe she was just on her way to the Batcave. Her mask wasn’t on yet, so her sharp eyes were trained directly on you, studying you in the way that always made you feel exposed.

For a moment, you two just stared at each other in silence.

You were the first to move, brushing past her quickly without another word. But before you could make it more than a few steps, her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Your hair.”

You turned around, confused, and caught her still looking at you with that unreadable expression of hers.

“Yeah,” you said, your tone clipped. “I cut it. I know. I get it. It’s awful.”

You made a move to leave again, but her next words surprised you enough to freeze you in place.

“No,” Cassandra said simply, her voice softer now. “It looks… really nice.”

You blinked, staring at her like she’d grown a second head. A compliment? From Cassandra? That wasn’t something you were used to.

“Thanks,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I guess.”

Without waiting for her to say anything else, you turned and headed back to your room. Your mind raced with the strangeness of the interaction as you climbed the stairs, the faintest trace of heat rising to your cheeks.

It wasn’t just her compliment that threw you off. It was the fact that she’d initiated a conversation at all. Cassandra had always been silent around you, her communication limited to nods, gestures, or the occasional word when necessary. For her to speak up, to make an effort, felt… different.

Weird, you thought as you closed the door behind you.

Uncharacteristic.

But as you sat on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help but replay her words in your mind.

“It looks… really nice.”

For some reason, they lingered longer than you expected.

From the moment Cassandra bumped into you in the hallway, she could tell something was off. The way you carried yourself, the weight in your movements—it was different. Subtle, but undeniable. She couldn’t quite place what had changed, but it unsettled her.

As she descended into the Batcave, the low hum of tension greeted her before she even stepped off the elevator.

Bruce and Damian were mid-argument, their voices sharp and escalating. Damian’s fists were clenched tightly at his sides, his face twisted in anger, while Bruce’s tone was firm but weary, as if he’d been repeating himself for the hundredth time.

Nearby, Dick stood between them, hands raised in a futile attempt to diffuse the tension. Stephanie leaned casually against the wall, scrolling on her phone while occasionally glancing at Tim, who was tinkering with one of his gadgets. They were the only ones who seemed unaffected by the brewing storm.

When Cassandra stepped into view, Steph looked up and gave her a warm smile. “Cass! Finally, someone sane. Come join us before this place explodes.”

Tim glanced up as well, offering a quick wave before turning back to his project. Cassandra hesitated for a moment but walked over to join them, her eyes still flicking toward the argument at the center of the cave.

Damian’s sharp voice cut through the relative calm of her corner. “Why is Brown here? Isn’t it supposed to be (Name)’s turn to patrol tonight?”

Stephanie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Wow, thanks for the warm welcome, little guy,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Damian ignored her, his gaze locked on Bruce. “Well?” he demanded.

Bruce sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “She’s not patrolling tonight.”

Damian’s brows furrowed, his tone growing more impatient. “And why not? Where is she?”

The tension in the room thickened as Bruce finally answered. “She quit.”

For a moment, the entire cave went still. Everyone except Stephanie and Bruce froze, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

“What?” Damian said flatly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Dick was the first to intervene, stepping forward and addressing Bruce directly. “What do you mean, she quit?”

Bruce’s tone was even, but there was an edge of finality in it. “Exactly what I said. She told me she quit, and I respected her decision.”

Damian’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists. “And you just let her?”

Bruce gave him a calm but firm look. “If that’s what she wants, who am I to stop her?”

Damian’s expression darkened, his anger bubbling over. “Unacceptable,” he growled. “There’s no way she just quits. Something’s wrong.”

Before Bruce could respond, Damian spun on his heel. “I’m asking her myself,” he snapped, already storming toward the elevator.

“Damian—” Bruce started, but Damian ignored him, disappearing up the elevator shaft before anyone could stop him.

The silence that followed was palpable, the weight of Damian’s fury lingering in the air.

Dick broke it first, his voice calm but resolute. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Go. Make sure he doesn’t do something reckless.”

As Dick followed after Damian, the remaining group stayed quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Cassandra’s gaze lingered on Bruce, her mind still replaying your distant expression from earlier. Something about all of this felt… wrong.

And she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

The peace and quiet of your room shattered when the door slammed open without so much as a knock. You looked up, startled, to see Damian standing in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury and confusion.

“You quit?” he demanded, his voice sharp and biting, his tone leaving no room for pleasantries.

Caught off guard, you blinked at him. “Good evening to you too, Damian,” you said dryly, already bracing yourself for the argument that was clearly brewing.

He stepped inside, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Don’t give me that,” he snapped. “What do you mean you quit? You seriously quit? Why?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, already tired of his interrogation. “Why? Can’t I quit?” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Damian’s jaw tightened, his expression shifting from anger to utter disbelief. “Are you right in the head?” he shot back, his voice rising. “What kind of madness is this? Did all those late nights finally drive you insane?”

Ok, that ticked you off. Slightly.

“Seriously?” you deadpanned, giving him a pointed look. “You think this is about me losing it?”

“Yes!” Damian barked, his voice ringing through the room. “First, you cut your hair off like it didn’t mean a damn thing to you, and now you suddenly walk up to Father and say you’re done being Batgirl? Just like that? You’ve completely lost it!”

You frowned, irritation creeping into your voice, but you kept calm. “Nothing is wrong with me,” you replied firmly. “I made a decision. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Not my business?” Damian repeated, his voice incredulous. He stepped closer, pointing a finger at you. “This affects all of us! You can’t just make a decision like this without considering what it means for the rest of the family!”

You stood up, arms crossed. “And why does that bother you so much? You’ve never cared about what I do. All you’ve ever done is criticize me, undermine me, act like I don’t belong here in the first place! So why do you care now?”

“I don’t care!” Damian snapped, though his voice faltered for just a second. “I care about what your actions mean for our family. You walking away like this—it’s selfish, reckless—”

That was it. The breaking point.

“Selfish?” you shot back, the irritation in your voice finally boiling over. “You’re calling me selfish? After everything I’ve done to prove myself? After all the crap I’ve put up with just to show all of you that I deserve to be here? And you have the audacity to call me selfish?”

Damian threw his hands up in frustration. “This isn’t just about you! Do you even realize what you’re throwing away? What your actions say about the rest of us? You’re acting like—”

“Like what? Like I’m done?” you yelled, cutting him off. “Because I am, Damian! I’m done trying to live up to expectations that no one even thought I could meet in the first place! I’m done being the one who has to prove herself every damn day just to get a shred of acknowledgment!”

“That’s ridiculous!” Damian shot back, his tone defensive. “Father wouldn’t have given you the mantle if you didn’t deserve it. You’re just—”

You cut him off again, your voice sharper, harsher. “He gave me the mantle because I practically begged him to. Not because he thought I deserved it. And every day since, I’ve tried to make up for it, to prove that I do deserve it. But nothing ever works. I get sidelined, tossed aside, whenever Father or Dick or anyone else decides I’m not good enough to help.”

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms. “You don’t get sidelined. You’re just making things up.”

“Oh, shut up,” you snapped, your tone biting now. “Don’t act like you know what I go through.”

Damian opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off again, your voice rising. “No, don’t you dare. You don’t know. You don’t know how it feels to constantly feel like you’re not good enough, to be compared to everyone else and always come up short. You don’t get it, Damian, and you never will. Because you’ve always been the heir, the one Father sees as his true successor. But me? I’ve been nothing but an afterthought.”

Damian’s face faltered for a brief moment, something unspoken flashing in his eyes. He hated the way his chest ached at your words.

“That’s not true,” he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction.

“Isn’t it?” you challenged, your voice trembling with exhaustion and frustration. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it. Not when I’m constantly being sidelined, not when I have to fight for scraps of approval while everyone else gets a free pass. And definitely not when even you can’t see me as anything but second-rate!”

Damian hesitated, caught off guard by the raw emotion in your voice. He quickly shook it off, doubling down. “This is beneath you,” he said coldly. “Throwing a tantrum and walking away won’t fix anything.”

“A tantrum?” you echoed, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt. “You think this is a tantrum? Damian, this is me saying I’ve had enough. I’m tired of breaking myself for a family that doesn’t even see me!”

“Then make them see you!” Damian countered, his voice rising again. “You don’t just quit because it’s hard! You don’t just give up!”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Of course, that’s your answer. Just fight harder, right? Because that’s all you know how to do. But I’m not like you, Damian. I can’t keep pretending that this fight is worth it.”

“Not worth it?” Damian repeated, his tone disbelieving. “Are you actually kidding me? Richard told me that fighting for family is always worth it—”

“Well Richard can go fuck himself for all I care,” you snapped, cutting him off. “For someone who prides himself as a family guy, he’s done a great fucking job proving that, hasn’t he?”

Damian bristled, his voice rising. “Don’t talk about Richard that way—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I forgot he actually gives a damn about you. No wonder you have such a biased perspective on how he really is.”

Damian froze, stunned into silence by your words. The room grew unbearably quiet, tension heavy in the air.

Finally, Damian let out a sharp breath, his voice low but laced with finality. “This isn’t over,” he said, turning on his heel.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone, your chest heaving from the intensity of the argument. You sank back into your chair, exhaustion settling in as the adrenaline faded. But the ache in your heart lingered, sharp and unyielding.

Damian’s words echoed in your mind, each one like a sharp jab to the chest. Selfish. Reckless. The words rang in your ears, infuriating and unfair.

Damnit. You hadn’t meant to blow up on him. But everything was just… too much. It wasn’t like you could keep pretending it was fine anymore.

Your fingers dug into the armrest of the chair as you shut your eyes, the headache beginning to set in behind your eyes. You could almost feel the physical ache of the emotional turmoil. I don’t care… You repeated the words silently, but it only made the ache in your chest worse. You had always cared about this family. You had tried so hard to belong, to prove yourself.

But what had it gotten you? You fought tooth and nail for the mantle of Batgirl, begging for the chance to prove you were worthy of it. Yet, here you were, useless in Damian’s eyes, ready to walk away. Maybe he was right—maybe you were being reckless, selfish. Because if you weren’t being Batgirl, who were you anymore? You certainly didn’t feel like the Bruce Wayne’s daughter.

You scoffed bitterly, shaking your head. They’d be fine without you, you thought. They always are. It wasn’t like your role in the family made a difference. You had always felt like an afterthought, never quite fitting in the way your siblings did. They all had their roles—Damian was the heir, Tim was the brain, Jason was the wild card, Cassandra was the silent powerhouse, and Dick was the one holding everyone together. You? You were just… there. Batgirl, but only when they needed you, only when it was convenient. When Stephanie wasn’t around. You hated to admit it, but she was undeniably a better Batgirl than you could ever be. You only saw that now, after everything you’ve been through.

“I should’ve quit a long time ago,” you muttered to yourself, your voice hollow.

They didn’t need you. Not really.

You clenched your fists at your sides, frustration building again. But then, as much as you tried to convince yourself that quitting was the right decision, you felt the doubt creep in. The sting of Damian’s words lingered like a cut, refusing to heal. What had you really thrown away?

Damian thought it was selfish? Well, maybe it was. But that wasn’t all there was to it. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t know the pain you’d been carrying all this time. The weight of the mantle, the pressure to be someone you weren’t sure you could be. You literally died because you wanted to prove you deserved this mantle.

But Damian didn’t know that. No one in the family did. To them, you were still 16. But you were 20, somehow in your 16 year old body. And frankly, you didn’t think anyone would have believed you if you told them. They’d probably rule you off as delirious.

Was it selfish to want to take a step back, to breathe, to figure out who you were without the costume, without feeling the need to live up to unrealistic expectations?

You ran a hand through your hair, pulling at the ends of the newly cut strands. It felt different—lighter, maybe—but it didn’t fix anything. The ache in your chest remained.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up and walked over to the window, staring out at the Gotham skyline. The night was quiet, peaceful even, but you felt nothing but turmoil inside. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to feel so lost, so empty after making a decision that was supposed to bring you peace.

But all you felt was the sting of Damian’s words, the echo of a family that would carry on without you. Maybe you weren’t meant to fit in. Maybe you were never meant to be Batgirl. Maybe quitting was the only way to let go of the weight you couldn’t carry anymore.

But the thought of it didn’t bring relief. It only brought more questions. More doubts. And the ache in your chest kept growing.

Dick made his way out of the Batcave, the soft hum of the cave’s equipment still echoing in his ears as he began his search. He knew the halls of the Batcave well, had spent hours running through them as a child, but for some reason, he couldn’t place exactly where Damian had gone.

Where would he be?

He knew Damian wasn’t the type to go off and brood in silence. No, if Damian had something to say, he’d say it—loudly. So the question was: Where would he go to find you?

Dick’s feet moved without thought, his mind running through options, trying to remember every possible place Damian could have gone. There was the training room, sure, but that didn’t seem likely. The library, maybe? No. He probably went to look for you in your room.

Dick’s boots echoed softly on the polished floor as he headed toward the hall where your room was supposed to be. His steps slowed, however, as a troubling realization settled in his chest.

Wait… where was your room?

Dick froze in the hallway, blinking in confusion. His gaze wandered down the corridor, his mind grinding to a halt. He’d known you for years, shared the same space, even lived under the same roof for what felt like forever—but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember where your room was.

It was a simple enough question—where was your room? He’d been there countless times, right? He’d spent so much time around the Manor, yet now, all he could think about was the fact that he couldn’t pinpoint the location of your room. The door had been right there, hadn’t it? Near the end of the hall? Or maybe down by the study?

Dick’s breath caught in his chest, and he quickly shook the thought off.

This is ridiculous.

He was probably just overthinking it. He was the oldest, the one who had been around the longest. It didn’t make sense for him to suddenly forget something so simple. Get it together, Grayson.

But the more he tried to focus, the more his thoughts twisted into a spiral. He knew where everyone’s room was.

How could he not know? Sixteen years. He’d known you for sixteen years. He’d visited this house, stayed in this house, lived in this house for years, and yet…

His breath hitched. The realization was almost too absurd to comprehend.

He knew where Damian’s room was. Knew where Tim’s was. Knew Cassandra’s, hell, he even knew where Jason’s childhood room was—Jason, who didn’t even live here anymore. He even knew the little quirks about each of their spaces: the sword display in Damian’s, the books stacked haphazardly in Tim’s.

But your room?

His mind was blank. He couldn’t even picture it.

Had he ever been to your room? Surely, he must have at some point. Right? His stomach twisted as he tried to remember, as if dredging up a memory he wasn’t sure even existed. Why couldn’t he see it in his mind? How could he have let this slip past him?

Panic began to rise in his chest as the uncertainty clawed at him. He’d been part of this family for years. He knows you the longest out of everyone. He should have known this.

Dick stood in the middle of the hall, mind reeling. How could he forget?

Before he could descend further into his spiral, he heard it. Muffled voices, raised in anger, followed by the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut.

Your room.

Without thinking, Dick’s instincts kicked in, and he started moving toward the sound. He rounded the corner just in time to see Damian storming off, his face set in a mask of fury. He didn’t even spare Dick a glance, his steps quick, purposeful.

“Damian!” Dick called, jogging after him, a mix of concern and confusion flooding his mind. “Hey, wait up.”

Damian didn’t slow down. If anything, his pace quickened, and he shot a look over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “I don’t have time for this, Grayson.”

Dick’s frustration only grew. “What’s going on? What happened in there?”

Damian’s fists clenched at his sides as he turned his head back toward the direction he was walking. “Nothing you need to know.” His voice was tight, clipped.

Dick’s steps faltered, but he wasn’t about to back down. “Damian, come on—don’t shut me out. What happened with you and (name)?”

Damian, however, wasn’t interested in talking. His head jerked up with a scowl. “I don’t need you to fix this, Grayson. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Dick, unwilling to let it go, caught up to him and blocked his path. “Damian, I’m not trying to fix anything. I just want to understand what happened. Why are you so upset?”

Damian’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with something more than anger. “Because I don’t understand it!” he snapped. “(Name) quit. She quit, Dick! And you’re all just standing around pretending like nothing’s wrong! That it doesn’t matter!”

That stopped Dick in his tracks. His heart sank as the weight of Damian’s words hit him. Standing around and pretending like nothing’s wrong? That it doesn’t matter? Of course not. He’s worried too. You quit? It didn’t make sense. But before Dick could respond, Damian was already pushing past him, practically shoving him out of the way.

“Damian—” Dick started again, but the younger boy cut him off, raising a hand to silence him.

“Don’t. Just don’t. I’m done with this conversation.”

Dick’s hand shot out instinctively, grabbing Damian’s arm before he could walk past. “Damian, stop. Just talk to me for a second.”

Damian whirled around, his eyes full of frustration and barely contained rage. “Why? So you can tell me everything’s fine? That we’re just supposed to accept this?” His voice cracked, just slightly, and Dick saw the sharp pain beneath the anger. “You don’t get it, Grayson. She quit. She walked away, and it feels like no one’s doing anything about it. No one cares!” His fists clenched tighter, the tension in his body radiating off him like a live wire.

Dick felt a heavy lump settle in his throat, a mixture of confusion and concern. He understood Damian’s anger—he was angry too, but his reaction was much more raw, and far more personal than Dick had anticipated.

Dick’s hand remained on Damian’s arm, his grip tightening ever so slightly, trying to ground him in the chaos of the moment. He stared at Damian, confusion and concern evident in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” Dick asked, his voice softer now, tinged with confusion. “Of course I care about her, Damian. But getting upset won’t change anything.”

Damian let out a sharp, humorless laugh, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “Sure, you care now,” he scoffed. “But it doesn’t feel like that to her, does it?”

Dick froze, his hand still gripping Damian’s arm, but now it felt more like a lifeline for him, trying to hold onto something solid in the midst of this emotional storm. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his heart starting to pound. “You’re not making sense.”

Damian pulled his arm away sharply, his movements tense and jerky. “Whatever,” he muttered, his voice growing colder. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to the cave.” He turned on his heel, striding away, his anger still hanging heavy in the air.

Dick stood there for a moment, his mind reeling. Damian’s words were like a punch to the gut, and Dick couldn’t make sense of them. It doesn’t feel like that to her. What was he talking about? Was Damian implying that you didn’t believe Dick cared about you? That you’d somehow gotten the impression that no one cared, that no one was doing anything to stop you from leaving?

A knot of anxiety formed in Dick’s stomach as the implications of Damian’s words settled in. Did you really think he didn’t care? The thought gnawed at him, twisting and turning in his chest.

He had always assumed you knew how much he valued you, how much he cared for you—as family, as his sister. But now, he wondered if he’d ever truly shown that.

Damian’s words continued to echo in his head as he stood there, frozen for a moment longer. What did he mean? Dick couldn’t fathom why you would feel that way.

With a sigh, he pushed those thoughts aside, his mind refocusing. He had to find you. He couldn’t let this go on any longer, especially if you thought you weren’t seen, weren’t valued. He had to fix this, whatever it took. But when he makes his way to your room, Dick just freezes in his place. What should he say to you? What would make you feel better? Dick hates how nothing instantly comes to his mind, hates how he couldn’t form a solution to try and resolve whatever conflict you had with Damian.

Without another word, Dick turned towards the cave, his resolve hardening. He’ll just wait until you’ve calmed down from your emotional argument with Damian, and then talk to you.

how we feeling about this chapter 😘

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st4rpiece · 13 days ago

Text

needing space after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: they earn your forgiveness CW: groveling, making up, fluff, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy wasn’t himself. It was the first thing everyone noticed after you left the ship. His laughter, usually loud and contagious, was quieter, forced. Mealtimes felt emptier, and the energy on the Sunny had shifted. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but even the crew could see the shadow of regret lingering in his eyes.

But now, here he was, standing in front of you in the quiet port town where you’d taken refuge after leaving the crew. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a desperate determination.

“I’m sorry,” he said for what must have been the tenth time. His voice was raw, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I was stupid.”

You stood with your arms crossed, your expression guarded. Seeing Luffy like this—so uncharacteristically vulnerable—caught you off guard, but the sting of his words still lingered, fresh and sharp.

“Luffy, you can’t just say whatever you want when you’re mad and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “You told me to leave. So I did.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “I was mad and didn’t think. I... I need you on the ship. Not just because I want you there, but because you’re part of the crew. You’re important to us all and i shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”

You searched his face, his big, earnest eyes pleading with you. You could see the regret there, the weight of his mistake hanging heavy on his shoulders. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you quickly shook your head.

“I can’t just come back because you say you’re sorry, Luffy. What happens the next time we fight? Are you going to tell me to leave again?”

“No!” he blurted out, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I swear. I’ll never say anything like that again.”

You frowned, unsure what to make of his declaration. “Luffy, words aren’t enough.”

He nodded, his straw hat shadowing his eyes for a moment before he looked up at you with renewed determination. “Then I’ll show you. Whatever it takes.”

True to his word, Luffy didn’t give up. He didn’t force you to return to the ship, but he didn’t leave the island either. Every day, he showed up—whether it was to bring you a freshly caught fish for dinner, fix something around the small inn you were staying at, or simply sit outside and wait in silence. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, but his presence was constant.

When the ship needed supplies, he was the first to volunteer, taking on tasks he’d usually leave to someone else. The crew later told you how he’d started taking more responsibility, trying to step up as a better leader.

Even when you didn’t speak to him, he never faltered. Every action, every small gesture, was his way of showing you how much he regretted his words.

One evening, you found Luffy sitting on the dock, staring out at the ocean with his straw hat resting in his lap. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight of his regret had worn him down.

When he noticed you approaching, he stood up immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious hope.

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Because I was wrong,” he said without hesitation. “Because I hurt you, and I have to make it right. Even if you never come back, I’ll keep trying. I don’t care how long it takes.”

His sincerity stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t brushing over your feelings like they didn’t matter. He had made changes—small ones, but noticeable—and for the first time, you truly believed he understood the gravity of what he’d done.

You sighed, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Luffy... I’ll come back.”

His eyes lit up with hope, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger, “this only works if things stay different. I’m not going back just to deal with the same problems again. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”

“I swear!” he said immediately, his voice brimming with determination. “I swear that things will be different. A good different. No more reckless fights for selfish reasons or saying things I don’t mean, I promise.”

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity and determination in his eyes unmistakable. Finally, you allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Lu.”

Relief washed over his face as he heard the familiar nickname, and for the first time in weeks, you saw his grin return, bright and full of life.

"I missed you so much, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and certainty, as he wrapped his arms around you.

The comforting warmth of his embrace, felt like home—safe, secure, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro wasn’t one to grovel. Stubborn and prideful as he was, apologies didn’t come easy for him. But as he sat alone on the Sunny’s deck, replaying his words from the fight, regret gnawed at him like a dull blade.

The memory of your face—shocked, hurt, and then resigned—kept flashing in his mind. He hadn’t just lashed out; he’d cut deep. You were trying to help, and he’d thrown it back at you, calling you controlling and annoying when you didn’t deserve it.

He groaned, pressing his palms against his face. He hated how small he felt for failing to show up to the dates you’d so carefully planned, how your suggestion—simple and kind—had poked at an insecurity he didn’t want to face. And now, because of his pride, he’d pushed you away.

For days, you’d been distant, giving him space, but that only made the guilt worse. He needed to fix this.

You were sitting on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean when Zoro found you. The breeze tugged at your clothes, and you looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering how much turmoil you’d left him in.

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice unusually hesitant.

You glanced at him, surprised to see the normally stoic swordsman looking... sheepish. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked, your tone calm but distant.

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides before he took a step closer. “I wanted to apologize.”

That caught your attention. Your brows lifted in mild surprise, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but steady. “You weren’t being controlling or annoying. You were just... trying to help.” He exhaled heavily as if forcing the words out of himself. “And I was an idiot.”

You blinked, his sincerity throwing you off guard. “Zoro—”

“Let me finish, please,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw in his gaze—an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I hate that I’m always late. I hate knowing you’re waiting for me while I’m stuck wandering around like an idiot who can’t follow a simple route. It’s embarrassing.”

Your expression softened, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“When you suggested we go together, I know it wasn’t because you thought I was useless,” he continued, his voice tightening. “But that’s how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough to get it right on my own. And instead of dealing with that, I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “But I don’t think you’re controlling or annoying. You’re the most patient and understanding person for putting up with me. So you deserve better and I want to be that.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them.

“I know I can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal,” he added, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again. “So, please baby just… give me a chance to make it right.”

Your lips parted in surprise. Zoro wasn’t the type to take the initiative when it came to things like this, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.

After a long pause, you let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One last chance.”

He nodded, relief flashing across his face, but there was also a quiet resolve in his expression. This wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow.

The next time you guys went on a date, Zoro was ready. He showed up early, finally getting the chance to wait on you. He led you to a quiet clearing overlooking the sea, a picnic already set up with food he’d personally asked Sanji to help him prepare.

The effort was clear in every little detail, from the way he chose the spot (easily accessible, no chance to get lost) to the careful decorations and crafts you mentioned liking/wanting to try. Showing that despite his stoic nature, he was listening to you during previous dates. Even now as you spoke, he would chime in at just the right moments.

It wasn’t perfect—he stumbled over a few of his words and complained when a seagull tried to swipe the food—but it was Zoro, trying in his own way. And that meant everything.

By the time the date ended, you leaned back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars, feeling closer to him than ever before. When he reached for your hand, you let him, squeezing it gently.

Zoro glanced down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I know you agreed to give me another chance, but I need to know if you’re still interested in giving me that chance.”

Your heart softened at the rare vulnerability in his voice. You turned to meet his eyes, and they were steady, full of quiet determination.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned into him as the waves crashed gently in the distance. For a man of few words, Zoro was surprisingly good at them.

“Well,” you began, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eye, “that depends. Are you going to keep being so dramatic about it?” You bit back a laugh as you watched the tips of his ears turn red, his expression shifting into a familiar scowl.

“Tch, not being dramatic,” he grumbled, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrayed him.

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I was being serious about giving you that second chance,” you said warmly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

“But,” you continued, your tone more firm, “next time something like this happens, promise that you’ll communicate it properly. Okay? No more bottling things up.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding once. “You have my word.” His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his promise.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing his hand again as a soft breeze brushed past, carrying with it the sound of the waves.

God Usopp

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the silence weighed heavy between you and Usopp. Since your argument, things haven’t been the same. You still spoke, but the words felt hollow, and the laughter you once shared now seemed distant and forced. He noticed it all—the way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the strain in your voice when you tried to act like nothing was wrong.

And it tore him apart.

Usopp sat on the deck after dinner, absentmindedly fiddling with a half-finished invention. His fingers moved on instinct, but his thoughts were stuck on your last conversation. He hated himself for the way he’d lashed out, for the way he’d let his insecurities push you away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in shades of orange and pink, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let this fester any longer.

When you stepped onto the deck for some air, Usopp hesitated, watching you from a distance. Finally, he stood, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached you.

“Hey,” he called softly.

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey.” Your voice was casual, but your guarded expression told him you were bracing for something.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

You nodded, following him to a quieter spot on the ship where the others couldn’t overhear. The soft sound of the waves filled the silence as Usopp struggled to find the right words.

“I’ve been... thinking,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “About what I said. About the fight.” He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, giving him the space to explain.

“I know you don’t see me as weak,” he continued, his voice growing tight. “But hearing you scream for him... it made me feel useless.” He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the railing. “And I hate feeling like that. I know I’m not like Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji. I’m not the guy who can punch through walls or take down ten enemies at once, but... I at least want to be someone you can count on. Someone you can feel protected with.”

He paused, his words faltering slightly. “But instead of talking to you about it, I projected my insecurities onto you, and made it seem like you were wrong for asking our friends for help. For that, I’m sorry.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and guilt pooled in your chest. “Baby...” you started, your voice soft. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel that way.” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “But you are someone I can count on. Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count. Your strength may not look like theirs, but it’s just as important.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes wide, searching for any trace of doubt. “You... you really mean that?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” you said without hesitation. “I trust you, Usopp. I always have.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at his lips, and he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “Thanks... I needed to hear that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

After a moment, he straightened and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “Actually, uh, there’s something I’ve been working on. For you. I wanted to make something that could help you in a fight.”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really? What is it?”

Grinning now, Usopp reached into his bag and pulled out a small, compact gadget. “It’s not finished yet, but it’s kind of like a smoke bomb, but better. It creates a flash of light to blind enemies and a smoke screen to cover your escape. I thought... you know, it might come in handy.”

You took the gadget from him, turning it over in your hands. “Usopp, this is amazing.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching his cheek, his grin turning bashful. “I wanted to make sure you had another thing to keep you safe. In case no one else is around.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Usopp. I mean it.”

He relaxed then, the tension between you finally melting away. “I’ll finish it soon,” he promised, his confidence returning. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with even more stuff for you with full bragging rights.”

"Thanks, now I can let everyone know just how my amazing boyfriend is," you laughed—genuinely this time—and Usopp’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he still had work to do, but for now, the weight of your fight had lifted, and the bond between you felt stronger than ever.

Vinesmoke Sanji

Sanji stood alone on the deck, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his slumped figure. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. His mind replayed every moment of your relationship—the laughter, the stolen glances, the warmth of your touch. And then, inevitably, it would circle back to the breakup.

He’d failed you. The person who mattered more to him than anyone else in the world. His actions—so thoughtless, so wrapped in habit—had made you feel second to strangers. The realization haunted him, clawing at his chest.

Sanji thought of groveling, of falling to his knees and begging you to take him back, but he knew you too well. That would only push you further away. You were someone who needed actions, not words, and he knew his words had already failed you. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. You were his person, his muse, his everything. How could he possibly accept a life without you in it?

So he did the only thing he could. He began to show you through his actions.

The change was immediate. The next time the ship docked at an island, Sanji didn’t so much as glance at the women who usually flocked to him. When they batted their lashes and called out for his attention, he brushed them off politely and kept his focus on his task. His compliments, once scattered freely to strangers, were now reserved only for you. Even when you ignored him, his words never wavered—soft, sincere, and meant only for you.

In battle, Sanji was more relentless than ever. But his priority was always your safety, stepping in before danger could reach you, even if it meant taking a hit himself. When the crew sat down for meals, he made sure your favorite dishes were prepared just the way you liked them, his eyes flicking to your face to see if you’d noticed.

And when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d linger nearby, silently watching you. There was a sadness in his gaze as he admired the person he’d once had the privilege of holding close. You saw him sometimes, hovering at a distance, and though you tried to ignore it, part of you couldn’t deny the pang in your chest. You still had feelings for him—of course you did. But you couldn’t settle for someone who had once made you doubt your place in their life.

Weeks passed, and Sanji’s quiet devotion didn’t falter. Even now as he stood near the railing, waiting for you, his hands slightly trembling. He had spent all day preparing for this moment, and now the weight of his plan felt heavier than ever.

When you finally stepped out onto the deck, he straightened immediately, smoothing his suit jacket with nervous fingers. "Hey," he called softly, his voice careful, like he was afraid of scaring you off.

"Hey," you replied, your tone hesitant but curious. He’d been walking on eggshells around you for weeks, and now this—an invitation for "something special" without much detail. Against your better judgment, you’d said yes, curiosity getting the better of you.

He smiled faintly, stepping toward you. "I, uh, thought we could spend the evening together. Just... talk."

You raised a brow. "Talk?"

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you."

Despite the uncertainty in your chest, you followed him across the deck, and your eyes widened when he led you to a corner of the ship bathed in soft, golden light from lanterns he had strung up. A blanket was spread out neatly on the deck, adorned with a small basket, plates of your favorite snacks, and a bottle of your favorite drink.

"Sanji..." you murmured, taken aback.

"I know it’s not much," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you. Something simple. Something that doesn’t involve me screwing it up."

You blinked, your hesitation softening slightly at his earnestness. "You didn’t have to go through all this trouble."

"I did," he countered, his voice firm but warm. "I needed to."

He gestured for you to sit, and after a moment’s pause, you did, settling down on the blanket. Sanji sat across from you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the ship filling the space between you. Finally, Sanji took a deep breath and looked at you, his expression more serious than you’d seen in a long time.

"My love," he began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since... since we broke up. And I just... I need you to know how sorry I am."

You looked away, unsure how to respond, but he continued.

"I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved," he admitted, his voice low. "I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, and that’s unforgivable. You should’ve never felt like anything less than the most important person in my life. That’s on me."

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.

"I still have feelings for you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I never stopped. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even to trust me again right away. But I need you to know that I’ve changed. I’m changing. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you."

You stared at him, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Sanji was always smooth with his words, but this was different. There was no charm, no performative flair—just raw honesty.

"Sanji..." you started, your voice faltering. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket. "I... I still have feelings for you too. But..."

"But you don’t trust me," he finished for you, his tone understanding rather than hurt.

You nodded. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just... I’m scared of getting hurt again."

He reached across the blanket, his hand stopping just short of yours. "I understand," he said softly. "And I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for. If we have to take things slow, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you, not just with words but with actions, that you’re the only one in my heart."

His hand lingered near yours, and after a moment, you tentatively placed your hand over his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you looked up to meet his gaze.

"Okay," you said quietly. "We can try. But slow, Sanji. No rushing, no grand gestures to win me over. Just... be honest with me."

A smile broke across his face, softer and more genuine than any you’d seen in weeks. "Slow it is," he promised.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased. You still had a long way to go, but as you sat there, sharing a quiet meal under the lantern light, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.

───────────────────₊˚.༄

One Piece Masterlist

hey…I was supposed to post this yesterday but I ended up working a double 😭.

[this is lightly edited]

anyways I saw a couple people asking about a tag list ngl i don’t know shit about that 😭😭 but hopefully this finds you !!

and for the op women/queer smau I will be posting that soon as well but I got a really cute idea from anon yesterday and I want to start on that first.

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oaksgrove · 18 days ago

Note

ok, but imagine that John is the first one reader call for help. Like he is such husband material and if anything goes wrong in their house she is calling him

Husband Price is such a delight to write! thank you for the prompt I wrote a little drabble hope you like it! reminder that my dm's are always open! <3

pairing: Jonh Price x Reader

summary: The phone felt heavy in your hand, your heart racing as you debated whether to call. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought about dialing his number, but this wasn’t a casual check-in or a playful banter over who was buying dinner. This was different.

Warnings: Mild panic, mention of fire (resolved), lots of fluff.

word count: 886

A sharp, acrid smell filled your nose, and you winced, glancing at the mess in the kitchen. Smoke billowed from the pan on the stove, and the smoke alarm was already screeching its protest. The fire wasn’t massive—not yet—but the way the flames licked at the edges of the pan made your chest tighten. You’d tried to be careful, you really had, but one misstep with the oil and it had flared up faster than you could react.

John had shown you how to handle these things before—his patient voice guiding you through safety tips you’d never imagined needing. And yet, here you were. You grabbed the phone, dialing without another thought.

The line barely rang once before his voice came through, steady and calm. “Love? Everything alright?”

“John,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “It’s the stove—it caught fire, and I don’t know—”

“Calm down,” he interrupted, his voice instantly grounding. “Are you hurt? Are the flames spreading?”

“No—no, it’s just the pan. I tried to—”

“Alright, listen to me carefully.” His voice was like a balm to the rising panic in your chest. “Turn off the stove if you can. Don’t touch the pan—just let it sit. Do you have a lid?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you were already moving.

��Good. Carefully cover the pan. Slowly, love. Don’t rush it.”

You followed his instructions, your hands shaking but steady enough to place the lid on the pan. The flames smothered almost immediately, leaving behind nothing but smoke and your pounding heartbeat.

“It’s out,” you breathed into the phone, relief washing over you in a wave. “The fire’s out.”

“Good girl,” he said softly, the praise easing the knot in your chest. “Open a window, let the smoke clear. I’m on my way.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Of course I do,” he cut in firmly. “Stay put. I’ll be there in ten.”

True to his word, it wasn’t long before the familiar rumble of his car pulled up outside. You hadn’t realized how much tension you were holding until you saw him step through the door, his eyes scanning you first before moving to the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” he asked, crossing the room in a few strides to pull you into his arms. His hands were warm, steady, a stark contrast to the way you were still trembling.

“Yeah,” you mumbled into his chest, feeling a little foolish now that it was over. “I just… I panicked.”

He pulled back to look at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Love, you did the right thing calling me. I’d rather be here for something small than miss something big, yeah?”

You nodded, a weak smile tugging at your lips. “I was just trying to make dinner.”

He chuckled, glancing at the blackened pan on the stove. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate the effort, but let’s order in tonight.”

You laughed despite yourself, the sound easing the last bit of tension lingering in the air. As he led you to the couch, insisting you sit while he tidied up, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for his quick response, but for the way he made you feel safe, no matter how big or small the situation.

#call of duty fanfic #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod 141 #task force 141 #john price #john price x reader #captain john price #captain price #tf 141

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joelalorian · 9 months ago

Text

Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981 @marirxse

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

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anisespice · 9 months ago

Text

12:34am — manjiro sano

Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming.

As soon as they were situated in a secluded area of the quaint, little ramen bar they occasionally visited, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that wouldn’t relent until it revealed itself. The next thing MIKEY knew, right after the server placed steaming food on the table and left the room, a gaggle of low-rate thugs came barreling in, guns drawn and aimed practically in his face with misplaced confidence. He didn’t even flinch, just set his chopsticks back down with a slow exhale through his nose.

“Can I at least eat a little before you try to kill me?” Mikey muttered, disinterested gaze briefly scanning over the opposition, sizing them up. Wack.

“Your last meal’s finna be this bullet, asshole. This what happens when you fuck with the Tokyo Vipers. We don’t care how tough you are, you’re gonna pay for what you did to Boss Nakashima!”

“Who?” Clearly, not the response they were looking for.

A stand-off commenced, his executives quick to pull out their own weapons, choosing a target with full intent to kill. The one guy focused on Mikey remained adamant to land one right between his eyes, resolve unshakable even with two or three guns aimed back at him. He’d give the idiots credit for boldness. Not everyday does the common thug grow the balls to try something with Bonten.

Unfortunately, they chose the wrong night to chase retribution.

“M-Manjiro…what’s happening?”

At the meek sound of your voice, he subtly reached for you under the table. You practically shook like a leaf, doe-eyes wide at the sight of a gun aimed at your lover with hands raised high as if you were also to blame—Definitely not the ‘simple night out’ you anticipated when he invited you to tag along. It was his own fault really, thinking simple was ever an option when it came to his reputation, not even for a night.

“A-Are they gonna kill us?” You cried, scooting closer to lean against his frame for more comfort. It made him relax a smidge, taking it as a good sign. “Please, j-just name your price, whatever the number, and it’s yours! You don’t have to do this-”

“Unless your money can bring back the dead, sweetheart, you can shove it up your ass!”

Mikey felt you jolt. Sparing you a side glance, his thumb caressed your thigh in small, reassuring circles. His poor baby, must be scared out of your mind. The blonde wanted nothing more than to shatter every bone in the bastards who put such an expression on your face.

“Let my girl step out. This doesn’t involve her.”

“The bitch stays. Want ‘er to watch you die.” The assailant hissed, thrusting the gun forward to bump against Mikey’s forehead.

His brow twitched in annoyance, grip around your thigh tightening ever so slightly as his mind filled with various ways to snap the guy’s arm without you bearing witness. The last thing Mikey wanted was you being afraid of him. You were a slice of normalcy in his chaotic life. Call him selfish, but he wanted you to stick around despite the ugly parts of it, hoping to hide it for as long as he could. Evidently, it was short-lived.

He knew he didn’t deserve it. You were too pure for a tainted soul like his, too soft for someone who’d been hardened by life, too—

“Bitch? ”

The whole room came to a halt.

All eyes had flicked over to you, uncertain if that bone-chilling tone came out of such a meek little thing, who not even seconds ago was visibly trembling. Now you were still as stone, delicate features no longer consumed by fear but contempt as you stared down the man with a slight tilt in your head. Even with tears clinging to your lashes, it was very unsettling.

You gave a hollowed chuckle. “Oh, you got me fucked up.”

The assailant blinked. “Wha-?”

“Shut up, let me tell you something,” you abruptly stood, nearly giving the Bonten men heart palpitations, fearing your next sudden move might be your last. Mikey, however, merely watched in stunned silence, hand that comforted you now hovering awkwardly as he blinked up at you. Jabbing a finger into the man’s chest, you hissed, “You can come up in here waving guns all you want, but I’ll be damned if some limped-dick, broke motherfucker calls me out my name.”

He gaped, then fixed his mouth to threaten you. “Sit your ass down before I make you regret ever meeting this scumbag, you little—”

With a quickness, you swing with a crisp thwack! to the side of his head. The room clamored about, even Mikey found himself blinking rapidly at not only your swiftness, but your audacity. With the opposition aiming their guns on you immediately, the executives instantly jetted their attention over to Mikey to gauge his reaction. He remained visual unnerved, save for the slight drop in his jaw.

“SHIT—FUCK,” the man yowled, stumbling back. With his ear ringing, vision blurring with tears, it was a wonder where you kept all that unbridled strength. Was this the same person who feared for their life not even moments ago? When he clumsily regained composure, he looked at you utterly stunned. “D—…Did you just fucking slap me? Have you lost your mind, you crazy—?!”

You raised your hand, making him flinch. “Say it again. I dare you.”

Flabbergasted. Shockandawe. Slightly aroused?

That was the consensus of every gun-wielder in the room, some more than others unable to mask the evident thrill from hearing such vulgar and venomous words drip from such a pretty mouth…Mikey being the first in line. Man’s still gawked with a glint in his eye that could only be described as carnal; since when had his kitten grown claws?

“GYAT.” Ran winced, then gave a snicker. That smack alone bounced off the walls, he just knew that had to smart. “Shake it off, buddy, shake it off.”

Sanzu, with a cackle, exclaimed, “Hit ‘em again!” earning a glare from the aggravated assailant, his gun now pointed at you and no longer on Mikey.

Kakucho grew anxious, the others just as on edge. If they didn’t take action soon, someone was bound to get trigger-happy. The situation was already unpredictable as is, but with your newfound attitude, things were sure to escalate fast. He gruffly voiced, “Boss, what’s our move?…Boss?”

Said blonde paid no kinds of attention.

Head void of any thought aside from your angelic form beneath the soft lighting standing your ground without an ounce of fear, one would think Mikey was in a trance. His bleak stare practically singed right through you, calculative as he watched your pristine facade unravel bit by bit—Such vicious words filled with vinegar and oil, a contrast to your usual peaches and cream, such discourtesy when you’re normally so well-mannered.

How long had you been hiding this side from him?

Mikey thought he had you figured out, from the moment you crossed paths he was certain he’d taint you, the walking cliche of a spoon-fed daddy’s girl who wouldn’t harm a fly, who dated bad boys just to feel something. But now? He wanted nothing more than to unravel you further, leaving you raw and exposed to reveal the devil horns you’d kept hidden behind a false halo.

And frankly, he wouldn’t mind an audience.

“Mikey.” Kakucho urged.

Said blonde hummed in acknowledgment, eyes lazily trailing off you and back at his number three, seemingly distracted. With a wordless exchange, he sighed. Just as things were getting interesting… Mikey reached up and gave the back of your thigh a tender squeeze. You turned to look at him, seething as you rebelled against his silent command. Oh, he’ll enjoy fucking that attitude out of you later.

“Sit down, [_____]. Think you’ve made your point.”

You sneered. “Like hell! My point’s been made when I have this dickhead crawling on his knees, begging for mercy—!”

Before you knew it, you’re grabbed by your thigh and pulled down into his lap. You yelped, arms instinctively shooting out to grab onto something until you landed with a small oof!

As you opened your mouth to protest, your breath hitched and the words catch in your throat at the cool feeling of Mikey’s gun now nudging against your clit through the lace of your underwear. A shutter ran through your body. Thankfully, your little display was enough cover for him to swiftly grab it from his side, playing it off as if he were restraining you.

He leaned in to speak low in your ear. “Cover your ears, baby.”

Goosebumps spread like wildfire across your skin, warmth simmering in the pit of your stomach from both frustration and excitement. Doing as you’re told, you pressed hands into your ears but kept your gaze on the offender in front of you. He was yelling about something, booming voice muffled but no doubt throwing out more threats. His group began to shrink within themselves once the severity of the situation caught up with them, and the odds no longer looked to be in their favor. You almost felt sorry for them; almost.

Before the poor bastard even knew what hit him, the smoking barrel of Mikey’s .45 was the last thing he saw before he hit the cold, hard floor with a hole in the center of his forehead. And just like that, bullets rained from every angle on your side of the room, bodies piling up one after the other until none were left standing. As quick as they came, there they went—Nothing more than stains on what was an originally calm evening.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Mikey could feel it elsewhere.

With his free hand having rested on your inner thigh, thumb dangerously close to where his pistol once was, he could feel a subtle pulse in your clit from the thrilling experience. While his men busied themselves cleaning up the scene, gathering corpses and making disposal arrangements, there was nothing left to distract him from prodding.

“It appears I’ve underestimated you. What other sides have you kept hidden from me, I wonder.” He said, tilting his head.

You whimpered as his thumb pressed against your throbbing little button, biting your lip before replying, “I-I just don’t like.. being talked to that way…”

Mikey hummed, nosing at your jaw. “My sweet girl. She got her feelings hurt, hm?”

It was hard to concentrate with him playing with you beneath the table in front of his subordinates, spreaking low and softly as he littered your sensitive spots with nips and warm kisses. With the little sanity you had left, you nodded. To your horror, you moaned quite loudly when he breached past your underwear to slip two fingers inside of you with ease thanks to your flooding arousal. But, you got over it the second he immediately curled them to hit that spongey area of your walls with a precision that nearly made you see stars.

“Your words, [_____]. You had a lot to say earlier, what happened?”

You gripped his forearm for dear life, jaw dropping as your legs subconsciously spread to give him better access. “Y-Yes!”

He cooed, arm flexing as he pushed his fingers deeper while his thumb stimulated your clit. Your back arched off his front, other hand reaching out to grip the table as you whined shamelessly at the ceiling. Neither of you paid any mind to where you were, or whomever watched, too caught up in the moment. Food had long gone cold and forgotten, bullet fragments scattered at your feet and blood splattered all on the walls. Even with his stomach growling angrily, all he could focus on was devouring you. “‘m sorry, baby. Let me make it all better.”

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

#🍁wasabi #this walked so ‘block boy’ could RUN #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tr smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyorev smut #mikey x reader #mikey smut #manjiro sano #manjiro x reader

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 4 months ago

Text

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 8

"I cannot believe you told my wife your date was with *Lena Luthor*," Alex whispers mid-yell, "before you told me!"

"Would it have changed your recommendation?"

At that, Kara hears Alex pause to consider.

"No," comes the final response. Then, "Did it work?"

Kara flushes-- she'd certainly gotten the reaction she'd been looking for. She just isn't sure she wants her sister to know that they hadn't fully resolved that desire.

"Well enough," Kara returns, settling on an incomplete truth. She'd explain the rest later... eventually.

A muttered curse issues over the line. "Jesus. How did this even happen? Wait-- what happens now? Esme said her next show is in, like... 16 hours, in Denver."

Kara smiles into the phone. "We stay in touch."

She's already received a picture via text, showing Lena with a tongue-out wink and a playful peace sign. Another photo had revealed a sticky bun, with a note that Lena had gotten Jess to swing by Noonan's on the way to the airport.

Though the sight of the sticky bun had made her hungry, the selfie made her pause to absorb the image. From the relaxed tousle of Lena's wavy hair, to the ray-bans hooked on the collar of her shirt, and the luxury of the private plane lurking around the edges.... she wonders if Lena realizes just how far she's letting Kara in, allowing her to see Lena in so personal a setting.

Kara's response had been simple. "Fly safe."

It had earned her a floating heart emoji and a promise to touch base upon landing.

"That's it?" Alex asks, pulling Kara back to the present.

Kara huffs a laugh. "What did you expect? She wasn't going to cancel half a national tour for personal time with someone she only met two days ago."

"Well why not? You're worth it."

"You're only saying that because you're my sister," Kara counters. "Besides, I don't want that for her."

Seeing Lena on stage had proven it's something the woman enjoyed. She thrived on the experience of it, and so did the thousands of fans who came to see her.

Which is why, a few hours after Lena's first Denver show would have concluded, Kara is surprised to receive a call from Lena. They'd facetimed when she'd landed, so the lack of video is her first clue that something isn't right.

"Hey," Kara greets, pressing the phone to her ear as she wipes sleep from her eyes. She'd meant to stay awake to check in herself, but not even a book had been able to keep her from dozing off.

"Hey."

Lena's voice is somber. It's such a difference that a wave of concern wakes Kara the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

There's a short pause before Lena responds. "Nothing."

"How was the show?"

"Fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be calling so late. I just... I wanted to hear your voice." Lena pauses again. "Is that weird?"

"No." Kara listens closely to the quiet that follows, as though it might give her some insight into what was happening on the other end of the line. "Lena..."

"Could you... talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Just... so I can listen."

Kara's brow furrows. She fights the impulse to dig deeper, to push to find the why. She doesn't need to know. Lena has asked for what she needs-- and it's something Kara is able and willing to give.

"Did I ever tell you that I didn't always live in National City?"

Lena hums a negative, prompting Kara to continue.

"I'm actually from a town up the coast. Midvale. I miss it sometimes. The stars mostly. In high school, I had friend named Kenny, and we would take his telescope to the old barn, and we would chart the skies together..."

Kara goes on, relating many and more of the troubles she and Kenny had gotten up to in those days. She was careful to steer clear of his murder, and the bullying they'd both experienced. Lena needed distraction, not more heartache.

As she speaks, Lena hums occasionally, sometimes even giving a chuckle. When the sounds of her following along peters out, Kara pauses to listen if Lena notices the stop. When no reaction comes, Kara smiles to herself.

"Lena?" she asks softly. "Still there?"

No answer comes, but when Kara increases the volume on her phone, she can hear the steady inhale and exhale of sleep. Kara listens for a few heartbeats more.

"Sweet dreams, Lena."

#supercorp #musician age gap au #a shortie but a goodie #just to tide yall over til tomorrow

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dollfacefantasy · 7 months ago

Note

pussy spanking with chris? 💗

yes because chris is like ideal for this. those big, thick hands. like please.

chris redfield x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, pussy spanking, dom/sub dynamics

Chris Redfield had never been an obsessive man. Throughout his life, he'd been across the world, bouncing from one place to the next with whatever agency he worked for at the time. He never put much thought or desire to hang onto one location or one way of working. He didn't let things fester like Leon or Jill did. Shit happened and it was bad, but then it was over and life went on.

The only thing that has ever really transfixed Chris Redfield is you. More specifically, the piece of heaven found between your thighs.

It was beautiful. He could never get enough of it. Sometimes it took him minutes to get to actually eating you out because he could just stare at it, watching his thumb slide up and down the velvet folds.

He loved how wet you got, the pretty color of your flesh, the heady scent that fogged his head up. He craved the taste and could lap at it for hours, long after you had been satisfied. Nothing else gratified him more than watching your hole eagerly suck in his cock. His thick length sinking into you and stretching you out fulfilled the most primal of his needs.

Simply put, your pussy is his prized possession. And that's why he doesn't take kindly to anyone else touching it. Including you.

It'd been a rule between the two of you for a while now, no touching yourself without permission. Normally, you loved it, the extra lack of control giving you a little thrill whenever you thought of it. But today, you were horny. You would've asked Chris, but he'd been on a work call for most of the day, something far less important in your lustful eyes. So you just tried to resolve things yourself. You were pretty sure you could finish before he came back, and he'd be none the wiser.

It's a lucky thing you aren't a gambler though because you were dead wrong about this little bet of yours.

Chris reentered the bedroom just as things were getting good for you, the very moment the flicks of your middle finger were becoming actually pleasurable rather than just tantalizing.

He didn't hesitate to drag you to the edge of the bed and sit down next to you. His muscular arm hooks under your knees and lifts them so that your legs are folded up to your chest. Your poor, dripping pussy is on display, exposed to him and the cool air of the bedroom.

He doesn't say anything at first. His stare remains on you during the silence, letting you bask in your mistake. He drags two fingers through your slick, feeling the level to which you worked yourself up.

"What do you think you were doing, baby?" he asks gruffly.

"None of your business," you say.

"But it is my business," he says, his fingers teasingly prodding at your entrance, "It's my business because you know the rules and you know you have to ask before you touch something that belongs to me."

"It's not my fault you abandoned me for your work," you pout in an attempt to wrangle out of this by guilt tripping.

"Abandoned?" he repeats with a chuckle, "You're so dramatic, honey."

The slap that follows is quick. It's light and lands right on your center. His fingers tap your lips and leave them stinging. You mewl in response and try to squirm, but his grip is strong.

"Try again," he commands.

"I was just playing with myself cause I was bored waiting for you. I didn't even cum," you huff.

Another smack lands. Again, it's on the puffy flesh of your cunt. The hit doesn't strike anything too sensitive, but it's enough pressure to tease the ache. You buck your hips more which draws a chuckle from him before he spanks you again.

"Let's hear it without the excuses this time," he chides.

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically, but that only earns you another fast slap to your cunt.

"I was being bad and breaking a rule," you whine finally.

"Good girl," he coos, "That's better."

His thick digits part your pudgy lips and slide against your swollen clit. The tip presses down and gives you some temporary relief for the throbbing. A pleasurable sigh leaves you as he begins working you back to the release that had been stolen from you.

"I understand why you'd wanna touch yourself, babydoll. I'd play with your pretty pussy every second of the day if I could," he says, "But the rule is the rule, and you know better. Next time you wait for me."

He slaps your cunt again but this time is actually hits your poor, sensitive bundle of nerves. You yelp, sharper than before and arch your back.

"We clear?" he asks, his face remaining unaffected.

"Mhm," you whimper and nod.

"Perfect," he says. His fingers return to toying with your little nub. "I know you like it better when I do it anyways, sweet girl."

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield x you #chris redfield smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #ch: chris redfield 💌

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sailorstar9 · 19 days ago

Text

F/N's Husband's Ex Wore A Wedding Dress And Proposed to Him At The Wedding. Zhongli's Response Shocked Everyone

Warning: Anti-Guizhong, Modern AU

On the day F/N got married to Zhongli, his ex-girlfriend showed up in a wedding dress to try to stop the wedding.

“Zhongli, this is the bravest I've ever been in my life.” Guizhong declared boldly. “Are you coming with me or not?”

F/N looked at Zhongli, who held his disbelief in his eyes. He snatched the mic and loudly questioned, “Who are you? Are you in the wrong place? If you keep messing with my wedding, I'll make sure your left eye ends up in your right eye socket.”

When F/N and Zhongli started dating, F/N's best friend secretly warned her, “Your boyfriend is so good-looking and rich. Be careful.”

In the three years of dating Zhongli, other than his occasional foul mouth, he had always been good to F/N. So on the day of their wedding, when a woman wearing a wedding dress suddenly appeared at the door, F/N was completely baffled.

“Whose bride shows up at the wrong wedding?” the guests looked at the unfamilar woman, then at F/N.

Zhongli, who had a pleased smile on his face, turned the smile into a growl upon seeing the woman.

“Zhongli, this is the bravest I've ever been in my life.” Guizhong declared boldly. “Are you coming with me or not?”

Zhongli, however, snatched the mic and loudly questioned, “Who are you? Are you in the wrong place?”

The bride in the wedding dress was taken aback by his words, her face freezing with the emotions of anticipation gratitude she had brought with her.

“Zhongli, have you forgotten?” Guizhong whimpered. “You promised to marry me.”

Zhongli, grinding his teeth in anger, replied, “Stop talking nonsense. If you don't stop now, I'll make sure your left eye ends up in your right eye socket. I don't care if you're a man or a woman.”

Tears welled up in the bride's eyes as she said, “I'm Guizhong.”

Zhongli blinked and looked closely at her. “Did you have plastic surgery? Could you fix your brain while you're at it? Who brought her here?”

The commotion was quickly resolved amidst of F/N's giggles and the bride named Guizhong was escorted away Zhongli's subordinates.

After the wedding...

“Still sulking?” F/N teased, pouring out a glass of warm water for her new husband after the wedding guests left.

“Wait until I find out who brought that woman here.” Zhongli said through gritted teeth. “I'll teach them a lesson.”

“Who's this Guizhong?” F/N asked.

Zhongli glanced at F/N and feeling somewhat guilty, replied, “She's a former employee from my company; we did date for a month. I swear, F/N, I have nothing to do with her. We broke up when I found out she's only after my status. It seems strange she'd show up at our wedding. I knew it was too rushed to register our marriage.” he nuzzled his nose on F/N's neck. “I should've been more careful about our wedding day preparation. Let's plan a honeymoon aboard and have a proper wedding ceremony.”

The rush to register their marriage last year had been F/N's fault; they had obtained their marriage certificate but the wedding had been postponed indefinitely.

The next morning...

F/N noticed Zhongli was still asleep, so she got up first to freshen up.

After a night of celebration, Zhongli had stayed up all night trying to figure out who had wanted to sabotage their wedding.

After brushing her teeth, F/N noticed she had a new friend request on WeTalk from the next before; the profile picture was a girl from behind and F/N's sixth sense told her she was the woman who had tried to break up the wedding.

A message popped up: Do you want to know what your husband said to me?

Intrigued, F/N accepted the friend request and she immediately sent a follow-up message: I'm Guizhong, Zhongli's ex-girlfriend. Do you want to see the chat history between me and your husband? Even if you threatened him to marry you, what's the use? Didn't your husband have to sooth me for a whole night? Feeling lonely on your wedding night?

“Zhongli.” F/N pulled the covers off the still groggily Zhongli. “Your ex-girlfriend said you soothed her all night.”

“What ex-girlfriend?” Zhongli was confused. “Is she crazy or what?” he sat up. “Give me your phone.”

“Are you going to confront her directly?” F/N asked, handing her phone over.

Zhongli remained silent as he opened his chat with Guizhong and she continued to send screenshots of their conversation in a relentless attempt to taunt F/N; sending the messages while mocking F/N: even if you got married to him, I have the ability to get him back.

Zhongli grew angrier as he looked at the messages and he called her. “Guizhong, do you have a mental problem? If you're ill, you should go to the hospital. Do I have any connection to you? If you keep harassing my wife, I'll call the police.”

“Zhongli, have you forgotten how you soothed me yesterday?” Guizhong simpered.

“I soothed you?” Zhongli was fuming. “Are you dreaming or just delusional? Which part of you compares to my wife? I have a gem and I'm not interested in your garbage. Please don't harass us anymore or I'll personally call your father and ask him how he raised his daughter.”

Guizhong hung up in tears and Zhongli, still shimmering in anger, shook his head.

F/N laughed and carefully examined the screenshots Guizhong had sent her. On the photo, Guizhong was having a sweet conversation with a man and upon closer inspection, the man in the profile picture was Zhongli.

“Look at this photo.” F/N showed Zhongli the picture. “Is that you?”

Zhongli furrowed his brow, looking confused. “I swear I never talked to her. It's our honeymoon, don't be angry.”

F/N just leaned against him, laughing uncontrollably.

“You always scare me.” Zhongli sighed, realizing his wife was only teasing and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

As F/N sat on the couch, she wondered: is it possible that someone is really pretending to be Zhongli and dating Guizhong?

At noon, Zhongli, who was supposed to be on vacation, was called by to his company by his partner. He had been running his own business since graduation with the support of his parents and the company had grown.

F/N herself was a novel illustrator; while drawing a sketch, she causally glanced at the local news and sure enough, both Zhongli and her were mentioned. A woman wearing a wedding dress in pursuit of love but was scolded by her groom with comments suggesting she was his ex-girlfriend.

Zhongli returned home to see a neighbour's kid throwing a water bottle at F/N and the mother accusing her of being a mistress. He was about to step in when F/N threatened to sue the mother for slander and her words had the mother leave hurriedly.

Against Zhongli's insistence, F/N made a police report and the married couple met with Guizhong again.

“if you hadn't talked to me constantly, I wouldn't have been clinging onto you.” the grey-haired woman lamented.

Amused, Zhongli mocked, “Did I not tell you this isn't my message account? I've explained it to you multiple times. Are you deaf or just can't understand?”

“Even though I'm your ex, is this how you treat me?” Guizhong burst into tears.

“Regardless if it's me or Zhongli, we've said multiple times this isn't his account.” F/N folded her arms. "Rational people would investigate who's impersonating Zhongli instead of being unreasonable. You already know it's all fake but refuse to accept the truth just to inconvenience us.” she then handed the evidence she gathered beforehand and declared she would seek further legal actions.

It wasn't long before the police identified the impostor pretending to be Zhongli and F/N wasn't surprised to see Liu Su.

“Liu Su, have you no shame?” Zhongli questioned his HR Department Head. “Using my photo to deceive women. You have the nerve to impersonate me? You even attended my wedding and when Guizhong came, you could keep it together?”

“Please don't be angry.” Liu Su apologized. “I was just out of my mind. I've had feelings for Guizhong for so long. I couldn't help it.”

“Liu Su, if you could add Guizhong on WeTalk, why not tell the truth?” F/N asked. “She came to the wedding. Why didn't you stop her? Don't tell me you didn't know before.”

“Liu Su, answer the question.” Zhongli demanded.

“You go explain to Guizhong yourself.” F/N got up to leave. “I demand she restore my reputation and publicly apologize.”

The next day...

Liu Su came to apologize, “Boss, I truly know I was wrong.”

“How you anger me is one thing, but you can't involve F/N.” Zhongli warned. “For the sake of our many years of friendship, take a three month leave. I'll assign someone to handle your work. Don't come to my house anymore. Did you really think I can't see through your act? If you regard me as your boss, you should respect my wife. You brought Guizhong to disrupt the wedding and while she's slandering and gossiping about F/N outside, did you consider me your superior? F/N doesn't need to forgive you. As her husband, all I can do is neither of you appear in front of her rather than her feeling compelled to forgive those who hurt her.”

After returning from their honeymoon...

“Liu Su and Guizhong are together.” Zhongli informed.

“They're together now?” F/N echoed in surprised. “They're a match made in heaven. Did Guizhong agree?”

“Let them be.” Zhongli pulled F/N into bed. “As long as they don't cause more trouble. If they do, I'll make them regret it.”

“Will you leave Liu Su return after his leave?” F/N laid her head on Zhongli's bare chest. “

“Whether he comes back or not doesn't matter. Now.” Zhongli shrugged. “The projects he had are being managed by others for the time being. We'll see when he returns.”

Three months later...

Liu Su returned to the company and Zhongli seemed a bit upset.

When F/N asked why, it turned out that as soon as Liu Su returned, he had arranged for the company to hire Guizhong and now she's working as Liu Su's secretary.

Sometime later...

F/N met Liu Su and Guizhong again at the company; Zhongli had called her saying that was a document at home that he need her to bring over. Since F/N was on break waiting for the next portion of the novel she was illustrating to arrive, she decided to drive over and also brought along a lunch-box.

When F/N arrived at Zhongli's company, only she and Guizhong were in the elevator.

“It's been a while, F/N.”

F/N nodded indifferently, not intending to engage with her.

Guizhong continued, “Seeing me able to work at Zhongli's company must really bother you, right?”

“What's there to be bothered about?” F/N shrugged. “Your salary is being paid by Liu Su.”

“We work side by side in the company, while you can only come by with his approval.” Guizhong taunted. “It's just how it is.”

“If I say today I'll fire you, let's see if Liu Su can save you.” F/N retorted.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened.

Pointing outside, F/N said sarcastically, “Wherever you need to go, go ahead.”

Fuming, Guizhong shot F/N a glare and exited the elevator.

After handing the document to Zhongli, F/N mentioned the incident with Guizhong.

“Did Guizhong forget to bring her brain along when she was born?” Zhongli shook his head as F/N opened the love lunch-box she prepared. “Delicious.” he bit into a matsutake meat roll.

A week later...

Zhongli's internal investigation team came back with their final report; Liu Su had not only been taking kickbacks, he had also been selling company secrets to their biggest competitors. Naturally, Guizhong was his accomplice.

Zhongli decided not to show any mercy and contacted the police; Guizhong was arrested at the company and taken in for questioning with Liu Su following shortly after.

Guizhong's case was wrapped up quickly; the company's legal department had already started legal proceedings against her and she's likely to spend the rest of her life paying off debts.

As for Liu Su, as it involved unfair business competition and bribing non-governmental officials, Zhongli sent the company's legal department after him with full force, making sure he received the maximum sentence.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x female reader #anti guizhong

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Text

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 06

✩°｡ ⋆ a longer dream

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, mild angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, descriptions of aggressive behavior (hair pulling, hand stomping—but not to the reader)

notes: an early release! please believe me when i said that i really wanted to add megumi's reaction in the previous chapter. i cut it because it got too long already.

oh and with this i’m announcing that unholy matrimony will be on break next week to ensure the best experience :( chapter 7 will be posted on november 6, i promise.

listen to: i will stay with you - gummy :)

series masterlist | next. love unspoken

This can’t be right.

Megumi must have heard wrong.

It was barely seven in the morning, he had just woken up, and the first thing he heard was... you were asking for a what? Divorce?

"What, why?" he immediately snapped.

You kept your head low. "Because there's no reason for us to be together anymore. This whole thing―" you gestured to everything around you as you tried to contain your emotions, "―started just because I have no choice but to obey my father so that he wouldn’t take my mom as a hostage."

Honestly, Megumi didn't understand. Maybe his brain was lagging because it was meant to be a tranquil Sunday morning. But he couldn't make the heads or tails of whatever you were spouting now.

"Now that my mom is no longer in the picture," you continued, your voice steady and your eyes devoid of doubt. "He has no other means to control me. He can't have his way with me anymore."

"Hold on—" He was exasperated. Nothing's making sense. "This doesn't necessarily lead to divorce. Sena, what are you thinking?"

“I’m setting us free, Megumi,” you interjected, fixing a fierce gaze on him. “Neither of us wanted this in the first place. And now we can do it. Zen’in must have a better bride in mind for you, or you could also ditch them altogether. We can go our separate ways.”

How had it escalated into this? Weren’t the two of you just spent the night? How did you spew all of these so callously?

Megumi clenched his jaw. “No.”

"Why?!" Now it was your turn to express frustration. Honestly, you really thought he would agree. You had offered him his freedom on a silver platter—so why didn't he take it?

“You are not in the right state of mind,” he asserted, his gaze fixed at you squarely. “You haven’t thought this through. You can't make decisions solely based on your impulses, Sena.”

“I have thought this through, Megumi!”

“Clearly, you haven’t,” he retorted firmly. “If that’s the case, then tell me, should we get a divorce, what would you do?”

You fell into silence, unable to give an immediate response. “It’s—I will—”

“See?” he let out a scoff. “Is your life with me so unbearable that you’re considering a divorce?”

Your brain short-circuited, evidently and truthfully you didn’t think that far ahead. Your primary focus was to alleviate the guilt in your gut, and you believed that returning to where it all began would be better for both of you, especially him.

But was your life with him that miserable? “No.” You stiffened, biting your lower lip. You didn’t want him to think like that. Living with Megumi was far from horrible at all; in fact, it was quite the opposite.

“Then what brought this on?” he inquired once again. His tone remained calm, but it was clear that he was holding his simmering anger back. “We are perfectly fine. So what’s the deal? Give me a straightforward explanation and I’ll agree with you only if you can explain what you will do from then on.”

Why must he do this? Why did he have to be against it so much? It took everything out of you to keep your resolve from breaking.

Your heart couldn't help but soar when he opposed your idea of getting a divorce. You found yourself hoping for something more, with him.

“We are… not fine.” You ran out of arguments to convince him, as the thought of staying suddenly made more sense, against your better judgment. “I… you—you didn’t want to be married to me—”

“But now I do!” His voice rang through the apartment, leaving you momentarily speechless, trying to absorb his words.

Megumi was at his wits end. As surprising as it may seem, he had developed feelings for you, and perhaps now, those feelings had intensified into something more intense. He had these passing thoughts about how to express his feelings, and certainly this wasn't the scenario he had in mind. However, now that things had escalated to this point, he must get this across somehow.

“I know you’re having a hard time. Losing your mother isn’t something you can get over so easily—I get it. I understand that, Sena.”

Tears welled up in your eyes.

“But I promise you,” his unwavering gaze held you captive. “You are going to be fine. We are going to be fine. Forget how we started—we have made it this far regardless of that.”

Staying with you meant he would remain embroiled in the Zen'in's successor struggle, a reality he was fully aware of. But the idea of you leaving was simply inconceivable in his mind.

Now you were openly sobbing. You were happy. You knew it was still wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole truth—the binding vow with Gojo. You just can’t.

You had never hoped so bad for a wrong to become right before now.

"You have me," he declared, and Megumi's hand reached for your damp cheek, cradling it gently. When your teary eyes met his, he fondly caressed your cheek.

“I will stay with you.”

That was the breaking point. You lost the hold over your emotions. If you didn't know anything else, one thing was abundantly clear—you had lived for this very moment.

And when Fushiguro Megumi pulled you into a searing kiss, you knew that life as you had known it had come to an end.

Because from now on, through endless maze, fear and loneliness, you placed your trust in him to be by your side.

"Tsk."

Naoya clicked his tongue at the first hearing held at his own Zen'in estate. Most of the elders had gathered in the main hall, with him sitting at the front row. The next seat next to him was empty.

"Can't we just start?" he spat impatiently, glaring particularly at his uncle, Zen'in Ogi—the father of the Maki and Mai—who was the head of the council to determine the next successor of Zen'in clan.

His uncle simply regarded him with a stoic expression. "We'll commence when Fushiguro arrives here."

To be frank, Zen'in Ogi harbored a strong dislike for Naoya. Not only was this young upstart trying to seize the position of the clan head that could be his by the order of seniority, he was incredibly disrespectful too. Given the choice—which he had, anyway—he still preferred Fushiguro even though he was an outsider rather than this manic twat.

"If the bastard doesn't come then it's his loss," Naoya hissed through his teeth. "Why should we wait for him? What a waste of time."

An attendant suddenly went into the room to inform that Fushiguro Megumi couldn't attend as he had prior engagements. Naoya sneered upon hearing that. "See? Even he doesn't take this the least bit seriously."

Zen'in Ogi vowed to wipe that smirk off his face, even if it was the last thing he did. To him, Naoya's behavior and lack of decorum during his brother's funeral was a blatant insult to their proud clan, and there was no way he would let him rule at the top, even though he was his brother's own flesh and blood.

Hence why he took great delight in seeing the shock on his face when he announced that the majority of the votes had gone in favor of Fushiguro instead of him.

"This isn't the final decision, of course," he remarked, casting a glance at Naoya's seething anger. "We will hold two more hearings, and by then, you can still cast your vote for the candidates you favor."

What the actual fuck—

"I advise you to get your act together, Naoya," Ogi whispered to him as the crowd dispersed. "You're hardly demonstrating why we should choose you with your rather... ah, unbecoming behavior."

Naoya clenched both his jaw and fists as his uncle walked past him. The nerve of that rotting bastard!

No one seemed to respect him any longer in this place. It seemed like everyone had started to think he could be overthrown from his rightful place.

So be it then. He just had to make it clear that he was the one in charge.

And when he spotted one of the serving girls, whom he had observed had been following several elders, and even himself, for several days now, Naoya finally had enough and pursued her as she hastened her steps.

But he was naturally faster and grabbed her hair in an attempt to catch her, causing her to yelp.

“Master Naoya!” she cried. “P-Please let me go—!”

“Shut up, you wretch!” he snapped at her with such fury that the girl could only tremble in shock. He then forcibly dragged her by the hair toward the disciplinary pit, paying no heed to her cries and pleas for him to stop.

He flung her across the hard tiles, and the girl curled up in fear. "P-Please... spare me..." she pleaded, her voice trembling with terror.

With an air of dominance, Naoya gazed down at her, and then he ruthlessly stomped on her hand, causing her to scream in agony.

“S-Stop! It hurts!” she sobbed. “P-Please!”

He crouched down, still keeping her hand pinned beneath his shoe.

“I’m acting o-on orders!” she shouted amidst the tears. “M-My mistress is the one w-who told me to come h-here!”

Naoya's lips curled into a sneer as he released his grip on her and then firmly grasped the young girl's chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Now, you fool, tell me everything.”

It was monumentally stupid. Megumi knew it, but couldn’t help but let his face burn in embarrassment regardless.

“Megumi.” You tilted your head to the side, eyes looking at him so innocently, yet hesitantly. “You want us to… uh, share one bedroom?”

The way you pronounced the word “share” was enough to drive him on edge. He knew it. You didn’t want it, but he wanted this, and yet he didn’t want to force you into it.

These three statements that negated each other made him want to crawl back to his room.

But as the saying goes, sometimes you have to fake it until you make it, right?

“Yeah, is there a problem with that?” And so faking his confidence it is.

“T-There is!” you hastily retaliated. “This is too sudden!”

“And what about it? Your bed is big enough for both of us. If not, then the one in my room it is.”

“But!” This inquiry was beyond you. Not that you were totally opposed, but this prompt change of situation left you reeling.

Okay, let us get it straight.

Confessing feelings to each other? Well, yeah, in practice, yes.

Marital status? Still wife and husband. Check.

And so, this was the cue for moving in together next, yes?

At least in the romance novels you read, yes. But quite literally, ever since Megumi’s dramatic declaration—that made you swoon amidst everything else, yes—the two of you found yourselves stuck in an awkward situation once again. He failed to look at you in the eye for two days straight after that, and now out of nowhere, asked you to share a room with him.

“Are you sure?” you asked, idly twirling a strand of your hair with your fingers.

“I am,” he replied instantly. "What's the issue here? We're married. We should have done this right from the start."

“Wouldn’t want you to burst from sheer embarrassment is all,” you quipped, successfully making him fidget. A smile tugged at your lips at his reaction.

"You could hardly even look at me," you added teasingly, and it seemed a vein on his face was on the verge of bursting.

“And you—”

You didn't have the opportunity to add more anecdotes to the list because suddenly your right arm was pulled, and before you could react, you found yourself cornered against the sofa.

"Well," Megumi's face was now inches from yours, his voice slow and laden with an indescribable intensity. His green eyes blinked, and suddenly, you found it hard to breathe. "Now, I'm looking at you, aren't I?"

What… is this situation? You could no longer think, and the only sound you heard was your uncontrollable heartbeats.

Even Megumi himself couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up on his face as he kept his hot gaze on you. When his cheeks began to feel as if they were sizzling and burning, much like the barbecue he had with Yuji the other night, he finally withdrew, moving away slowly. You took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, your heart still racing.

"Stupid, don't look so scared," he grumbled before tousling the top of your head, causing you to wince.

Now he had truly done it, hadn't he? He had made it glaringly obvious just how hopelessly infatuated he was, or at least he hoped he had conveyed it to you.

“I’m not scared…” You looked away shyly. “Megumi, you idiot.”

“Why am I the idiot? You’re the one being so clueless.”

In his eyes, you appeared so petite and vulnerable. The way you puckered your lips made him want to pin you to the wall.

It was unlike anything he had felt before. This urge to protect, make you happy, and ruin you at the same time was just too much.

But in the end, the first two always won.

"Okay, forget about it," he said afterwards, prompting you to look up. "We don't have to share a room if you're that uncomfortable about it."

“Uh, but—” now you were the one stammering. “No, it’s—okay…”

He raised an eyebrow, not understanding what you meant, so you took a gulp of breath, suppressing your embarrassment.

“Let’s sleep together from now on,” you declared. “In the same room, okay? I’m okay with it…”

“Really, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

A reminiscent of what he told you just two days ago. You couldn't forget how those three simple words made you feel, as if you were granted a fresh opportunity at life, despite the hardships you'd endured.

In the ensuing five seconds, you locked eyes and then erupted into a chorus of laughter.

“It’s so stupid, why is it so hard?” you sighed, smiling all the way. “We can’t be stuck at this stage forever.”

Megumi looked at your smile and, once again, tenderly placed his hand on your head.

“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t,” he muttered. “But even this is enough for me though.”

“What is?”

A gentle, weightless sensation filled his chest, a welcome relief after enduring two weeks of shared suffering. Seeing you no longer as tormented fueled his desire to to sustain that newfound happy expression on your face.

“Your smile,” he replied simply. “Just keep smiling. That’s all that matters.”

You swore you felt your heart leap out of your chest at his genuine words. But, damn you, you concealed your emotions the only way you knew how.

“Okay, so now you can’t deny it any longer,” you huffed in a playful condescending manner. “You’re positively smitten by me, correct, dear husband?”

A sheepish snort escaped from him. “Yeah, yeah, wife. I’m all yours.”

Megumi was eager to walk down this road with you from now on. It wouldn't be without its challenges, as there were still many things for you to tackle. Your mother’s murderer, Tsumiki’s curse, Zen’in’s mess. Through it all, he had you in his thoughts. And as for you...

You were content if this dream would last just a little bit longer.

next : love unspoken

🏷️ taglist

@moonmalice @hellothere9597 @qtnfer @firstplaidpeachnickel @waddlingwanderer @chilichopsticks @satorus-slut @dcvilxswish @lees-chaotic-brain @tojirin @bluebreadenthusiast @pandabooster @cole-silas @becsmarvel @giuli-in-earth @fuckimgenderfluid @haitanisrarity @kimura-uzuri @bicchaan @lunavixia @stevenknightmarc @rory-cakes

#jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi x oc #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fluff #arranged marriage au #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #fushiguro megumi angst #series: unholy matrimony

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pellucid-constellations · 1 year ago

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angstober (3)

Prompt: "But I love you"

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/n: This takes place at the beginning of civil war :) ANGST!! I love angstober <3

You can also read my angstober drabbles here and here (if you wanna)!!

~~~

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

God, how things were supposed to be different.

Bucky rummaged through a backpack he’d thrown in the corner of your apartment sometime last month. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now, you were left wondering just how many items he’d strewn about his life, a randomized placement of his belongings all ready for him if he needed to bolt.

Would he take you, too? Were you not something he considered his?

“Bucky, talk to me. What’s going on?” you tried. You’d already asked that same question in three different ways. After he’d barged through your door with his hoodie drawn up to his chin and his hat low on his forehead, you’d bombarded him with questions. He hadn’t answered any of them.

And he was wearing gloves. He hadn’t worn gloves around you in a long time.

“I can’t tell you. Can’t stay here.”

You were grateful for a response this time, at least. You tracked him with your gaze as he zipped up his backpack and moved through your kitchen, removing pots and pans from your cabinet in a loud, clattering motion. He reached his arm in until his elbow disappeared within the wooden doors and then pulled it back out, a gun now firm in his grip.

“When did you put that in there?” you startled, uncrossing your arms from your chest. You were still in your pajamas. Bucky had gone to get breakfast and left you in bed. And now he was leaving.

“A while ago,” he responded, the words barely forming on his lips.

He was moving again before you could truly voice your bafflement, shrugging the bag over his shoulders and readjusting the straps. Panic surged through your chest and up your throat. He really was leaving. You knew he’d been running from something when you met all those months ago, but there had been nothing wrong when he left this morning. You made him feel safe. He wanted to stay with you. He’d told you that himself.

You reached out a hand and he jolted at the contact, gaze shooting up to meet yours. Your eyes flickered between his own, desperation clear in your expression as you pleaded with him. “Don’t leave. Tell me what’s happened.”

Your hand burned on his shoulder but you couldn’t remove it.

He looked almost as ruined as you did, but there was something else behind his eyes. Determination, maybe? Resolve?

“I can’t.”

It was the shortness that ultimately broke you. You heaved out a pained breath as your waterline filled, letting your hand drop. Your arm swung uselessly down to your side and you bit into your lip as your eyelashes gathered moisture.

Bucky’s stoic demeanor fractured, a tiny sliver showing you the man you’d come to know. The one you’d carved out from cold, hard stone. It had taken you weeks to get him to smile, even longer to get him to finally kiss you. When he spent the night for the first time, he was too stiff to hold you. But that was all different now. He was different now.

He had told you he wanted to stay. That he wanted to keep you safe.

You saw that part of Bucky as his lips twisted into an uncomfortable grimace, his arms reaching out to haul you into his chest.

“C’mere,” he grunted out, chin resting on the crown of your head. “C’mere, honey, I’m sorry.”

You cried into his chest, hiccuping as you asked, “Why are you leaving? I can come with you. I want to help you.”

He shushed you, running gloved hands along the back of your head. “Can’t, baby. Where I’m headed isn’t safe. I’ve been real lucky for a while but that luck’s run out.”

“Bucky, you can’t—”

“I’m not good for you here. I need to keep you safe and I can’t do that while I’m being selfish. I’d give anything to bring you with me, but I won’t put you in danger.”

You pressed your nose into his chest, willing the feel of him into your memory. You could hardly breathe like this, but that didn’t matter. When he left, when he was really and truly gone, you probably wouldn’t be able to breathe at all.

Your hardwood floor creaked beneath your feet as Bucky stepped closer and burrowed you further into his body, his lips pressing hard against your forehead. You hated this apartment—this tiny, cloistered space in Romania. It would only serve as a reminder of him once he was gone.

Maybe you would move.

But would he be able to find you, once it was safe? Would he come looking?

The thought made your chest constrict. What if he never came back?

Bucky pulled back from you, taking your face into his palms. His face scrunched up in displeasure at the tears still glistening on your cheeks, and he tried to remedy them with the pad of his thumb. They kept coming, even when you’d stopped crying.

“I have to go. Longer I stay here, the more danger you’re in.”

Your next words fell from your lips without hesitation, tears thick in your tone as you stressed, “But I love you.”

Bucky froze, mouth parting. You’d said it with so much sadness, so much heaviness in the words he’d been aching to hear for so long. You hadn’t said them yet because you didn’t want to scare him off.

But he was leaving now. There was nothing to lose.

The kiss he pressed to your lips was hard and rushed and a breath left his nose with so much tension a low groan accompanied the action. His fingers were gripping your jaw and desperately trembling. His feet were slotted between yours and you tugged at his jacket to bring him closer, closer, closer.

“That’s why I have to leave,” Bucky huffed out against your lips, eyes closed. He couldn’t watch as he left you. “I’m gonna find you again. Even if it’s in another life.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #angstober 2023 #day 18

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 8 months ago

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Stormy Weather

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; angst/comfort/fluff

Trigger Warnings: major domestic issues, trauma response, things are resolved but hard, language

A/N: Hey my loves! So this one is… pretty hard core for me? I rarely write angst but this one has been on my mind for a bit. This does get pretty aggressive but I needed to process my own experiences with DV and relationship issues. This story isn’t meant to glorify or make light of DV, but rather it’s a way for me to process my fears about my future relationships after my bad one. I hope this made sense, and maybe someone could find some catharsis in this like I did. Love you all to bits and pieces, I’m trying to get to my inbox!! As always, feel free to send me prompts or requests. Love you all 💕- Mo

It had been tense recently in the Solomons house. The new men in the bakery were just above incompetent despite Shelby assurance. American prohibition put another twist in the binds. And the recent weather had done nothing to aid Alfie’s sciatica. Through no fault of your own, and despite your best efforts, Alfie was knee deep in angry old man territory.

Though that wasn’t something that put you off. Women are not so easily turned by nasty weather, for better or worse.

You weren’t naive to the tempest of your husband. The beauty of his heart and his mind had to paid for by torrential rains once a season. His roar never came to your quiet garden, though you were acquainted with his rumbles and thunder. But you knew how to temper it. You knew what brought him through it into the clear.

You hummed to the radio in the corner, settling your finishing touches to a soothing evening with your beast of a husband. Brisket was just pulled out, with carrots and potatoes buttery and tender. You had washed the sheets and blankets, pressed them with dried lavender and eucalyptus oil. Lamps were turned low, and the fire was a soothing crackle, the entire parlor a syrup sweet orange glow. Water was hot for a bath for two, and everything was set for a soft warm evening.

As you pour out your first glass of wine, you hear the front oak door swing open, and slam shut shaking the walls. Light on your feet you flew to the front, opening your arms as a harbor. “Alfie darling, get your coat off, I have dinner and wine all set for your already! Let’s get you warm!”

His eyes don’t even meet yours as he evades your soft arms.

You feel as though your body wilts. Completely crumbling under the weight of the dejection.

But maybe he didn’t see you! Maybe he just didn’t realize!! He works hard he probably just has to attend to something quickly.

Your bare feet flex against the frigid wood stairs, creaking under the weight of your trek. Your ears perked up to the rustling of the papers and slamming of drawers and rumble of his voice. Like a dragon arranging his lair.

You crack the heavy door, requiring all of your weight. Paper and ink were thrown around, drawers yanked crooked, and you see him take long swigs of the amber liquid in the crystal decanter. “Alfie? Darling you alright? Did something happen”

He does not even toss a glance, “nothing that concerns you. Close the door one your way out.”

The rolling thunder edges closer to the home, “Aren’t you going to come down and eat? I’ve made your favorite tonight.”

“Does it look like I care about dinner? I’m preoccupied at the moment and don’t need your yowling right now.”

A bright flash illuminates the room.

“Alfie I don’t know what’s wrong but you will not speak to me like this.”

“I’ll fucking speak to you how I fucking feel like! Now get the fuck out!”

The sky explodes. Shaking the paintings and photos on the walls. The mirror above the fireplace behind you shifts precariously. Your eyes shut but the sounds wash over you.

You don’t let the anger out of your chest very often. You pride yourself on keeping an even temper and offering a gentle hand in place of the rage. Especially when being with Alfie, your honeyed lips and temperament is what makes you the queen of Camden. There’s been so few people who have seen your rage, much less deserved to receive it.

“Get the fuck out you said?”

A slight chill runs down Alfie’s spine. “Yeah. Yeah I said get the fuck out. You deaf now?”

Another flash.

“Ok.”

Alfie hardly blinks before he suddenly sees glass hurdling towards his face. He just barely ducks before it shatters against the wall behind him.

“What the fuck!” He roars and thrashes.

To his shock, you pick up the glasses on his bar cart, throwing them with all your might at his head, one by one, with deadly aim.

“Get the fuck out eh Alfie! Get the fuck out!! I’ll get the fuck out! Maybe I’ll take you fucking with me!”

You make your way to the Faberge eggs on the shelf.

“Don’t you fucking dare sweetheart! There will be hell to pay if you touch those fucking eggs!”

“Oh we are well past that Alfie. You tell me to get the fuck out? I’m taking your fucking stuff!”

Three perfectly beautiful eggs are slammed against the fire with your husband roaring and punching the wall, “Enough damnit! Get the fuck out of my office! Get to the fucking room you fucking lunatic! I’ll lock you in the bedroom if you keep this up!”

“Oh I’d like to see you try! You call yourself a man! King of Camden! King of Camden so upset he curses out his woman! So mighty yet he can’t take care of his own home! You’re a fucking CHILD! A fraud!”

You grab at a cabinet and pull it down, slamming against the ground. The glass shattered. The tin type of your wedding surely shattered in the frame. In the moment of silence after the shatter, you don’t realize Alfie coming up behind you and lifting you in the air.

You scream and kick, trying to get away and out of his grasp. But he was immovable. A wall. All you hear was his grunts as you howled and cried. He wrenches the bedroom door open, throwing you onto your marriage bed. You scramble up the bed, reaching for the knife under your pillow.

Heaving breaths, Alfie puts his hands in surrender, “Treacle treacle please. Enough ok. No need to stick me. Let’s.. let’s talk.”

“You’ve already said anything you need to. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say you fucking-“

“Darling I was wrong. Ok. I shouldn’t have swore at you. Come on. Just… put it down. Let’s… let’s talk about this ok? Truce?”

You push the hair out of your eyes, wipe the tears off your face and put the knife on the night stand, far enough from either of you.

Alfie has never raised a hand towards you ever. He’d rather put the gun on himself than touch you. But old habits die hard.

You pull your feet under your night gown. Watching Alfie pull off his coat and shoes before sitting on the bed. The ancient frame creaking under his weight.

He reaches for your hand, but retracts when he sees your dark stare toward it. With a sigh he relents and decides to begin. It’s never good to be the starter of negotiations. “Darling. I am sorry for shouting at you. It wasn’t fair to you. The business doll… it does my head in. But. It doesn’t excuse shouting at you. Can you forgive me?”

You feel the heaviness slowly slipping away from your neck. You nod meekly, allowing your fingers to drift to his, weaving around his warm fingers.

Brushing the inside of your wrist, he continues, “Now darling. While I was in the wrong, you don’t normally start throwing shit around. Very unlike you it is. You want to explain what caused that? What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You shake your head no. It’s sitting on your tongue though it’s so bitter. You can’t bring yourself to spit out the poison.

“Oh come on darling. It’s just me. Nothing can put me off. You and me forever right?”

You nod, and reveal your feelings, even if it’s a slow trickle.

“I just… got so angry at you Alfie. I’ve been so lonely these past few months. You’ve been gone. Any time you say you’ll be home you’re not. I’m without you all the time. And when you are here, you’re not really. Your mind is still gone and I don’t have my husband. Just his body. And his words hurt me so much. And I thought, I thought tonight I could finally get you. I thought if I tried hard enough you would be happy and with me. Like we were. And then when I tried to help you and be your wife, you screamed at me. And it hurt me. So I wanted to hurt you and break things to make myself feel better. But it didn’t. It made me more angry and sad and…”

Your words were reduced to tears as your husband pulled you into his lap. Your tears soaked his neck and shirt, “Oh God Alfie I’m so sorry! That was wrong and I’m sorry! Alfie was please forgive me! I’ll never disturb you again! I’ll never throw anything ever again! Oh God Alfie can you forgive me!”

A gentle kiss to your forehead settles your fears, “Now my darling you know in your heart of hearts that we are bound for eternity. Nothing is taking us apart. Not even when we fight like demons. I’m yours and you’re mine. You and me… well we just need a little medicine yeah? Just need some help right now. You and me need to do a better job talking to each other and listening yeah?”

You can barely get words out as you nod. Cheeks hot and sticky. But it doesn’t stop Alfie from kissing your cheeks so tenderly. “My dove. My sweet dove. The business has been out of control but it’s finally settling down. I came home angry because of all the messes I’ve had to clean up. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on the one person I like. The one person I love. But it’s finally settled my pet.”

His thick hands tenderly touch your chin to bring your eyes to his, which are also wet with tears, “I promise to always tell you when I’m not doing ok. And if I can’t tell you then, I’ll make sure to tell you when I need a moment. You think you can promise your old man the same?”

“Yes… I promise.” You whisper

There is a slight twinkle that flies across his eyes, “Think you can seal it with a kiss?”

You throw yourself against him, and he catches you with a grunt. You hated to fight. You’d sooner walk into the ocean than be at odds with the love of your life. When you finally come up for air, Alfie whispers against your lips, “I’m staying home for the rest of the week. I’ll tell Ollie what he needs to do in the morning.”

Without moving a millimeter you say, “No you can’t darling. It’s your life I don’t want you to have to stay home if you can’t.”

“You’re my life treacle. Forever and all eternity you’re what matters. I’ve decided. I’m staying home. And come Saturday we go up to Margate.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that you’re the only woman for me.”

He kisses you sweetly, and you whimper as you let yourself be further embraced by him. Barely moving from your lips he whispers, “Why don’t you start a bath darling? I’ll grab tea from downstairs and join you soon.”

“I made dinner… it’s on the stove for you.”

“I’ll bring a plate for us. You just… get comfortable for me treacle. I think we need some time.”

For the rest of the night… and the rest of the week. You spent time talking and embracing, coming back together and healing what had been fraying at the edge. Though mistakes were made, and there were deep wrongs, you both wanted to fix it, to heal.

Neither of you were perfect. You never would be. But there was love there, and determination to get through the wounds that lead to these kinds of mistakes. These moments were not ok, and they stemmed from deep seated traumas that were undealt with. But you both wanted this marriage. You both wanted each other. And you both would work everyday to make it work.

With every word.

With every caress.

With every kiss.

Things would heal.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders

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r0ttenhearts · 8 months ago

Text

longing stare II

kazuha x situationship! ex! reader

warnings: angst, nsfw themes mentioned

pert one

“what happened, (y/n)?”

your palms began to sweat. she knew. but how? beidou’s glare bore into your nervous form as you let out a breath.

“how much do you know?” you asked quietly.

“i know something happened between you and kazuha. he doesn’t mention you anymore like he used to, not since he came back on the alcor. and once you left in such a rush i knew something happened between you two.”

shame burned your insides. your cheeks were heating up and you felt it, you felt it all too well. you were embarrassed, humiliated. kazuha was your ex, your ex who was loved by all. would she even believe you? she knew kazuha more personally than she knew you.

“you can trust me (y/n). if that boy wronged you, i’ll give him hell.”

you smiled softly at the fierceness in her voice. beidou was one of the good ones. so, you told her everything. from the alcohol to the disgusting warmth that spilled out of you once kazuha had his fill of you.

beidou held your hands in hers tightly as you finished retelling the events between you and the white haired samurai. tears of shame pricked your eyes but you blinked them away. you wouldn’t give him your tears. he had taken enough of you.

“we have to do something.” beidou finally murmured after what felt like ages.

you shook your head, “what’s done is done. i can’t face him again.”

beidou placed a firm hand on your shoulder, a kind warmth you hadn’t felt since before that day.

“i want to help you (y/n)). if you don’t get any closure i’m afraid this will eat you alive.” she spoke gently as if she was trying not to scare you.

beidou went on to make a plan to help ease the turmoil in your mind. rather than you speaking to kazuha, she would ask him what happened instead. if he admitted to it, then that would be your closure. closure that he knew he wronged you, that he felt some type of guilt.

because you had returned to the alcor before kazuha had returned from exploring the nearby city, you could easily find a place to hide and listen to the conversation beidou would be having with him.

beidou helped you to get below the shipdeck, the gaps between the wood creating enough space for you to be able to hear above. now was the hard part, waiting.

you sat under that deck for what felt like hours, until the familiar muffled steps of beidou and kazuha was heard.

you stood directly under the gaps, peering up at the red and black figures above. the both of them had bottles in their hands, a usual for them whenever they spoke privately.

“so, kazuha, i ran into (y/n) today. she seemed different, maybe you should talk to her?”

kazuha laughed gently, “about what exactly? i cannot help that girl.”

beidous expression stiffened. “well, i’ve seen how the both of you are with one another here. i thought you were close.”

kazuha shook his head, the bottle in his hand swaying with the shaking of his head. “i hardly know the girl. whatever troubles her, i’m sure it won’t be resolved with anything i could say to her.”

“nothing happened between you two? are you sure? you both seemed awfully close the last time she was here.”

“nothing happened between us. she is only a wandering girl, such as i.”

“hmm.” beidou hummed a response and bid goodnight to kazuha, turning on her heel and making her way down below the ship. she found you quietly sobbing on the floor, knees to your chest, hands over your face.

“i-it’s not fair, beidou! he used me! he used me. i’m ruined. i’m dirty and disgusting, i’m used up. i’m no good anymore.” you babbled out incoherently as beidou knelt down to hold your sobbing form.

“you’re none of those things, (y/n). don’t let him win. you’re so much more than that. you’re not what he did to you.” beidou whispered gently.

you no longer could utter another word, only a slight nod and sniffles were made from you as heizou helped you up and out of the bottom of the ship. you spent the night in her room, the comfort of her presence was more than enough for you.

from that day on you would avoid his gaze. for awhile, he’d stop you to present his latest haiku. but with a drastic lack of enthusiasm he no longer asked you what you thought. your blank stares and monotone voice had said enough.

but you never noticed his stares from across the ship when you were laughing and talking with the others. the grip on his sake bottle tightening with every laugh that escaped you.

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @somatchajade @dearsumire @saeism @jaderose18 @0kauy @lelemnh @linkookie197 @xiaonscaraswife @reblog-crazily @sparklylanddetective @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @kenmabfasf @jihyuniepark @chiisananingen @just-anotherbookworm

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha angst #kazuha

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save-the-villainous-cat · 9 months ago

Note

Hello cat, may i request a hero who's had a string of bad relationships and a villain who's absolutely in disbelief that that could happen. Like they're absolutely flabbergasted that multiple someones didn't like the hero.

Have a good day! Drink water and rest :>

With the villain's knife nearly digging into the hero's shoulder, they looked up at their enemy, panting and exhausted. They knew the villain loved the thrill, the damn sparring.

It was all a game to the villain, a funny and meaningless game when they toyed with the hero. They liked to watch them fight, loved to challenge them.

The villain seemed way more relaxed than the hero did, after all the hero had a bunch of responsibilities on their shoulders that had an actual weight. The hero was 90% sure the villain was some millionaire with too much time on their hands.

"Quite the intimate position, dear," the villain whispered. They winked and leaned down, making their knife press a little harder against the hero's shoulder. "You look lovely today, by the way."

"Your pick-up lines get worse, do you know that?" the hero asked. They tried to wiggle and somehow get away from their nemesis but it was to no use. The villain sat down on their hips and pressed them into the ground. Their smirk never faltered.

"Oh, come on. You love it."

"Just a little," the hero said. They were pretty sure all of this was a big joke. And even though that was true, even though the villain pretended to like them, the hero welcomed the effort.

It made them feel special. Especially when the villain got jealous.

"Don't tempt me," the villain said. However, their smirk fell when they saw the hero's sad smile. "What is it?"

"What? Nothing, nothing. Where were we? You wanted to stab me?" The pressure faded and the villain looked quite puzzled.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're the only interesting hero in this boring city. Would hate it if you actually fought me."

"I am actually fighting you."

"You're holding back, don't think I am that dumb, please."

The hero sighed. They supposed it wasn't a good idea to tell the villain what kind of troubles they got into when they weren't in costume. It wasn't smart to reveal that much of themselves, was it?

They took in another breath.

But wasn't that why they kept their identity a secret?

"...it's kind of pathetic," they said.

"I commit crimes to get your attention. That is pathetic," the villain joked and somewhere deep down, the hero felt more secure. It was strange how the villain could be such a stranger yet the person the hero was closest to.

"I'm just enjoying this more than I should. I'm not very good when it comes to personal relationships, so your efforts are really refreshing."

"You are not good with personal relationships? You with all your conflict-resolving talk and your words of encouragement and your helpful nature? You?"

"Yeah...can't seem to keep a partner."

"You're kidding. You've kept me for three years." The hero smiled. Whether it was intentional or not, the villain managed to calm their anxiousness.

"I guess I am too needy. Or too distant. Too pushy, I don't know. Maybe I am one of those people who doesn't end up with anyone." They shrugged and the irony of saying that while the villain was sitting on their hips only occurred to them later.

"Oh please, people must be throwing themselves at you. I mean, hello!?" The villain looked down the hero's entire body, suggesting that the hero was some kind of royal everyone drooled over. This time, the hero felt their cheeks burn.

"Ugh, stop it. You're so annoying." They pushed the villain's face away, partly because they wanted to touch them, partly because they didn't want the villain to see their glowing face. But the villain only looked amused.

"You're totally lovable," they said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

With that they winked at the hero and disappeared into the night.

And the hero realised they had a terrible crush on their enemy.

#h-hopital #tossing this like a chunk of meat into the cage (to my followers)#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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megantrancyfanfics · 2 years ago

Note

Hello 👋! I was wondering if I could put in a request? If not, please ignore 😊

Giyu x wife!fem!reader

She finds out about Giyu agreeing to commit seppuku (if Nezuko fails) @ the meeting and confronts him about it at home. He didn't tell her about it and she's upset (I know I would be) they have an argument but then it gets resolved and NSFW/fluff etc follows. If its a lame request I get it I just love plot w/ some spice 😉

Thanks again! 💜💜💜

Ahh I love this!! Thank you for requesting this! I hope I don’t fail you, and I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: NSFW and Fluff

Will contain: talks of wanting a baby, talks of Seppuku, this will be more of a loving nsfw that turns slightly tougher so it’s not gonna be toe curling like my others but here’s what it’ll contain just a little bit of 69, (cunnilingus and Fellatio). Nothing too major but still be 18+

Enjoy 💕

~~~~~~~~~~

“How stupid can you get?!” You screamed at him, your hair was a disheveled mess, your face and eyes puffy, dried tears stained your cheeks. Your husband, giyuu had just returned home from a mission.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“How long were you going to wait until you told me what you’ve done!? Were you even going to tell me at all!? How could you!? And to think I had to learn from Sanemi out of all people!”

Your poor husband stood in the doorway of your shared home, a lost and concerned look plastered on his face.

“You’re willing to throw your whole life away over some- some demon you don’t even really know! Giyuu she’s a demon! They’re monsters! They can’t be trusted! I can’t believe what you did..” your chin started to tremble, a lump caught in your throat as you tried to continue to lecture him.

“I wanted to have a family with you, giyuu. I wanted to grow old with you, I wanted us to be together until we both died, and you’re willing to throw your life away..do I mean anything to you? Is this whole marriage one sided!?”

His heart tightened. Seeing you so distraught hurt him. “Y/n..I did what I did because I know nezuko won’t hurt another human. That day, when I ran into them on that mountain, she never tried to harm her brother, even though he was bleeding, she never dared to go near him in a vicious way. I’m not throwing my life away for nothing, I will grow old with you, I will be by your side until we die, because I won’t have to commit Seppuku.”

“But you don’t know 100% Giyuu!!” Your knees started to buckle as the flood gates finally opened, snot, and tears started to coat your face. Before you could fall, giyuu was quick to get to you, and hold you up.

“I love you so much giyuu it fucking hurts, it hurts so bad. And the fact you never told me about this hurts even more. What else are you hiding from me giyuu??”

Giyuu was quiet, he allowed you to scream and cry until you felt content. It’s the least he could do for not telling you about that. In his defense, when he told the master, he just started talking to you. But, he sees where you’re coming from, if you did something like that he would want to know so he could treat everyday with you like it was your last.

When you finally dialed down, giyuu finally spoke.

“…I want to have a baby too.”

“..what..?” You choked out, as you wiped your nose on the sleeve of your haori.

“You asked me if there was something else I was hiding from you. And the truth is, I want a baby too. I’ve wanted one for years..I just..didn’t want to bring it up so you didn’t feel pressure into having one.”

“Really..?”

A quick, and quiet yes was his response before putting a finger under your chin, lifting you slightly before capturing your lips with his.

It was a slow and sensual kiss, that didn’t last long, but had you wanting more.

“Why waste anymore time? We both want one, would you like to try for one?”

You nodded, butterflies quickly making their way into your stomach as he took your hand in his, and headed to the bedroom.

~~~~

It didn’t take much for the two of you to get into the mood, and before long, the room was filled with sounds of both of your groans and moans. His tongue exploring the inside of your pussy, making you slowly and gently ride his face. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed the idea of you getting off on just his tongue. He loved hearing your muffled gasp when his tongue would abuse your clit. He loved feeling when he did that of your legs quivering just a bit. But god did he love the feeling of your tongue abusing his tip. He loved the way you’d swirl your tongue around his tip, before taking him almost all the way inside your mouth. Your mouth was so small compared to the girth of his cock. He adored feeling you try to take more of him in, your throat clamping down as you gagged. The feeling of his cock getting wetter when you pulled up to spit on it. He had to constantly keep focusing on pleasuring you so he wouldn’t bust right then and there.

“M-more please..” you begged, your once gentle movements on his tongue becoming more desperate, your attention now fully on the climax that was building up inside of you, and what kind of man would he be to deny you? He spread your lips before devouring your cunt again, his tongue going as deep as it could. Your moans became higher pitched as you coated is face in your cum. He allowed you to ride out your high before he pushed you forward, your ass up in the air.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, rubbing his slobbered covered cock against your folds.

“Please, I want a baby so bad. I want your cock so bad”

He slowly slid his cock into your went folds, both of you letting out a moan. Your pussy was being spread out in the most delicious way. You felt full by the time he bottomed out inside of you.

His thrusts were slow and sensual, but with his cock being so thick he rubbed all of the right spots inside of you, making your legs shake in no time. Your pussy was clamping down onto his, causing his cock to twitch inside you.

“Are you close, darling?”

You nodded, his thrusts becoming a bit faster and less timed as both of your highs washed over you quicker than both of you would like to have admitted.

Your body felt warm as his cum leaked inside of you, causing you to shiver.

“You’re doing so good for me, are you tired?” He asked leaning down, and littering your back with kisses.

“A little.”

“You can handle one more round can’t you baby? I’ve missed you so much and I wanna make sure I put a baby in you, so I wanna use you just one more time to make sure in a few months you’ll be walking around with a swollen belly.”

Your pussy fluttered around his cock, making him let out a quick chuckle. “You liked hearing that? Does that turn you on?” He slid his cock out until just the tip was still inside, before he quickly shoved his cock back inside of you, causing your legs to shake.

“Are you sensitive doll? I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll cum more than twice tonight.” He says before placing his hands on your hips, his grip tight enough to leave bruises.

His thrusts were quicker, rougher, and deeper than before, you were fearful you’d leak out some of his cum, but your brain was turning to mush with every thrust. Your pussy tightened around him once more, but he didn’t dare slow down, if anything it made him speed up more. He wanted to see a mixture of his cum and yours drip out of you. He was determined to see it. Besides, if some of his cum did leak out, and you didn’t get pregnant, he’ll make sure to try again and again until you were.

Your moans filled the room, your hips had started moving on their own, trying to match the pace of his to quicken your release. You were close, so close. Your vision was blurred as you saw stars once giyuu moved a hand from your hip to your clit to give you some extra stimulation.

Your high was quick to wash over you, but giyuu didn’t slow down, you became overstimulated, creaming on his cock as his high started to bubble up inside him.

“I’m going to make sure you’re filled to the brim with my cum. I’m going to pump you so full of my cum that it’s gonna drip out of you.”

“Please, I want that so bad please please please”

New kink unlocked: he loved hearing you beg, it had him biting his lip as his hips stuttered, his cum coming out in thick long ropes inside of you.

The both of you took a few minutes to catch your breaths, giyuu couldn’t help but look down, to see your creamy cunt drip just a little bit of his cum onto the bed.

“There’s no way I’m not pregnant..I feel so full.” You said softly, giyuu’s cheeks getting red as he pictured you holding their future kid. His heart felt like it melted. He slowly pulled out his cock, and helped you get under the covers. He made sure you were covered before holding you close to him.

Maybe it was post nut, or maybe giyuu was just speaking from the heart, but he went on and on about how pretty you’d look carrying his kid, and how he was excited to come home from missions or training to you singing, or talking to the baby.

Both of you can only hope there is a little baby that was made that night.

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