#i just have to take my time i can't rush this

[strang3lov3]

Doctor’s Orders

You can't cum, so you visit Doctor Roy.

Tags - gyno!roman, abuse of power, dubcon, sexual frustration, finger fucking, finger sucking, pap test, breast exam, titty play, medical kink, gyno kink, morally bankrupt roman, also. anyway, don't worry babies, you will fuck doctor roy later. but not tonight :) A/N - YEP I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW. STEPDADDY, ROOFTOP FUCK. I had to get this out of my system, okay? I love you. It’ll be okay.

You hate waiting rooms. Medical offices, whatever. Everything is sterile and smells like alcohol and hibiclens, which isn’t an unpleasant smell on its own, but it’s sort of aggressive and sharp and…

Whatever, doesn’t matter. It’s just the context. Nobody likes the doctor, right? All the needles, the being poked and prodded at by blue hands. The invasive questions that you know are asked for the sake of your health, but still. How much do you drink? When was your last period, and describe in detail the texture, color, and smell of your menstrual blood. Are you sexually active? Do you smoke? You shouldn’t, you know. 

It’s just an unpleasant experience. But part of being a healthy human.

You tap your nails on the clipboard after filling out your paperwork - date of birth, current address, billing address, insurance, emergency contact - all that shit - while listening to the music playing from the tinny, staticy speakers. Doctors’ offices always seem to play the worst songs from eight years ago, for some reason. The thought tickles you. Like that’s universally appealing, or something. 

A nurse opens a door and calls your name. You collect your things, then join her as she takes your paperwork and leads you down a long hall, your shoes squeaking on the linoleum flooring. She has you slip off your shoes then stand on a scale to jot your weight, then leads you to an examination room. 

“And what brings you in for your visit?” 

“Uhh…” You fidget with your nails, picking away the chipping nail polish you painted on a few days ago. “Struggling to reach orgasm,” you murmur.

Your nurse nods as she types your response into her laptop, and you’re thankful she doesn’t show any judgment. Maybe she is judging you, but so be it. She hides it well. And,  she’s not the one you have to worry about. 

She bends over and opens a drawer, then hands you a paper gown and a large paper sheet. She shows you how to wear the gown, then instructs you to lay the paper sheet over your lap. The doctor will be in shortly, she says, then leaves and closes the door behind herself. 

The cool air has your skin erupting in goosebumps as you strip bare. This part always feels…awkward. Putting your clothes into an awkward little pile on the chair across from the examination table, putting that awkward, baggy paper gown on, covering yourself with that awkward paper sheet. It could not be less flattering on you, and makes you feel sort of dehumanized. Just not yourself.

You hope this will be over soon. You’ve already been sitting on the examining table for about fifteen minutes, legs dangling in the air as you wait for your doctor to show up. While toying with the paper sheet, crumpling it and smoothing it out again, you notice a few stray hairs you missed shaving on your legs - fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. Or worse, say something. He totally fucking would, too. 

Good god, you feel nervous. Do other people feel this nervous, usually? Or is it just you? You’re looking at all the sterile, scary-looking tools on that little metal table covered in a blue sheet thinking–

Knock knock. Doctor Roy doesn’t give you time to say anything before he’s opening the door and waltzing in the room, and there’s a rush of cool, moving air that prickles your skin. 

“Hey, hey, if it isn’t my favorite fuckin’ patient,” Roman announces. “How the fuck are you?” You open your mouth to speak, but Roman cuts you off, “Cute panties,” he interrupts, pointing to your pile of clothes. The comment makes your cheeks heat up, and Roman laughs. 

Roman Roy, MD. He’s a rather unorthodox gynecologist, and that’s putting it generously. He’s got no bedside manner whatsoever - which likely contributes heavily to his abysmal two-star rating online. He’s very rude, very short and impatient with people. Lewd. Inappropriate. Everything you don’t want your gynecologist to be. Oh, god, people are so fucking sensitive now, right? What, can nobody take a joke? 

He was the only doctor in your insurance network when you started visiting the gynecologist, and you’re stuck with him. Feel like you’re stuck with him, at least. You’ve thought about going elsewhere, but Doctor Roy knows you, and he knows your medical history. Being so fucking unpopular amongst patients due to his terrible demeanor, there’s only seldom a wait to see him. If you get a yeast infection or a UTI - or, shit, even strep throat, he’ll write you a script quickly and easily, no jerking you around. You just have to put up with his dirty jokes, and stuff. Things could be worse. Right?

Roman gets right to it. He sits down on the leather-covered rolling stool and opens his Macbook to read through your chart. “Buh-buh-buh…” he hums absently, scrolling through your records. “Oh - okay. Great. Fuckin’ nurse didn’t ask you anything or take your blood pressure or any of that shit. Jesus fuck, I have to do everything around here.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, sorry. She’s new. Fresh out of nursing school and fucking useless,” he mutters, his eyes still glued to his scream.

Roman stands up and switches on the blood pressure machine to your left, and it whirs to life. He unsticks the gray, Velcro cuff from itself, “I’m gonna take this, thank you,” he murmurs, taking your left arm in his hand without your permission, and raising it up so he can wrap the cuff around your bicep. Roman presses another switch and the cuff slowly fills with air, squeezing you. “Sorry,” he says. “Fuckin’ thing is slow as shit.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You study Roman’s face as he watches the numbers on the display. He’s growing a little bit of scruff - you like the look on him. In the bright, sterile room, his hazel eyes lean slightly green. His hair has grown out a little, and you find it interesting how it’s darker and lighter depending on the season. He’s got the softest, most beautiful strands. 

Being honest with yourself, part of the reason you still visit him is because he’s so fucking handsome, and you just can’t help yourself. That has to be true with his other patients, too. On no other fucking planet would his antics and lack of ethics fly if he weren’t so attractive. 

Looks really do get you everywhere. 

The machine hisses as the air is let out of your cuff, and then Roman’s taking it off of your arm. He grabs his stethoscope next and puts the two little earpieces in his ears. He flicks your paper gown to the side and presses the cold metal bell against your bare chest, brows furrowed as he listens to your heart. Then, he smirks. 

“Heart’s beating a little quick today, huh?” he muses, teasingly. “What’s up with that? You nervous?”

“A little,” you admit. Fuck, you can smell him - his cologne and the almond-scented soap he washed his hands with. His breath is warm on your face as he moves the stethoscope around, listening intently to your heart. When he’s done, he shuffles and  moves the bell to your back. 

“Deep breath in,” he instructs, voice softer and more measured. You inhale deeply. “And out. Good. Again. In,” he guides, “And out. Goooood.” 

Roman notes your shaky breaths. Nothing to worry about, he concludes. They match your pounding heart. You’re just a little nervous, is all. And fucking turned on, if your dilated eyes are any indication - Roman’s not stupid. He knows you’re attracted to him. He guesses that the minute you put your feet in the stirrups and your cunt is on display for him, he’ll see you dripping down the examination table. Whatever, though. He’ll make his nurse do the grunt work. 

Roman sits in his stool again. “When was your last period?” he asks you. 

“Uhhh, the twenty-eighth.”

Roman types that into his computer. “Still on the Nuvaring?” Roman looks at you, eyebrows raised. 

“Yep.”

“Any side effects? Still workin’ out okay?” 

“Still working out okay.” 

“Any pelvic pain or discomfort? Are you sexually active?”

“No and yes.” 

Fuck Doctor Roy and that stupid fucking smirk he wears. “Latex allergies?”

“No, Doctor Roy.” 

“Good, good.” Roman ruffles a hand through his hair, using the other to scroll back up to the “reason for visit” section of your chart. “So you’re here because…” Roman’s mouth drops open. “‘Patient can’t reach orgasm’. Oh shit,” he laughs. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer quietly, embarrassed, and heat creeps up your neck. It’s one thing to talk to your friends about this. They’re shocked too, but sympathetic, at least. “I know how you feel. My boyfriend never makes me cum.” As if that’s the same thing.

“The fuck am I supposed to do about that?” 

Your jaw drops. You feel so embarrassed, but you’re fucking pissed now, too. 

“Chill. I’m kidding, okay? It’s a j - it’s just a joke. The doctor is on the case, or whatever.” Roman crosses his ankle over his knee and clicks a pen. “So how long’s this - y’know. Been a thing?”

“Mm…forever, I guess.”

“Oh, fuck. You should’ve come in earlier,” Roman says. “Maybe you need a new partner, huh? ‘Cause like, you can achieve orgasm on your own at least, right?”

That comment pisses you off too. It’s one thing to be on the receiving end of some dirty jokes and Roman’s foul mouth, but you don’t need to be shamed and made fun of by your doctor. “No,” you answer, then grit your teeth together. 

“No? How do you fuck yourself, huh? Sorry - how do you stimulate yourself, honey?”

“Just - I usually just use my fingers—”

“Uh huh. You should try a vibrator, sweetheart. Doctor’s orders. There’s a sex shop nearby - the girls are real nice there. Tell them Doctor Roy’s got a script for you, huh?” Roman winks. Gross.

You sigh, frustrated. “I have tried toys, Doctor,” you explain. This is demoralizing. Is he gonna tell you to drink a glass of wine, too? Smoke a little weed the next time you fuck yourself? “Something - something’s just wrong with me,” you huff. “I just can’t do it. I can’t fucking cum, and please stop clicking that pen.”

Roman makes an amused face at your little outburst, and makes a show out of putting his pen down. He smirks to himself - it’s probably, you know, all your pent up frustration. “There’s a lot wrong with you,” Roman says, “But not that. You can cum.”

“How do you know?”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you. “Uh, because,” he scoffs, then smiles with his tiny sharp canines on display, “I am a fucking expert in vaginas, thank you very much. Never met a pussy that I couldn’t make cum.”

Ugh, he’s fucking disgusting. You don’t doubt he’s telling the truth, though, and the thought of him pleasuring a woman makes you throb despite yourself. You open your mouth to speak, but Roman speaks first. 

“Anyway–” He claps his hands, a look of something…something, in his eye as he wears a teasing, sickening sort of smirk. “It’s your lucky day, did ya know that? You, my dear, are due for your pap.” 

“Oh.” That’s it? Just…whatever. Okay. No orgasms for you, probably ever.

“Yeah, oh. I’m gonna start with a breast examination,” Roman says, squirting a bit of sanitizer into his palms. He rubs his hands together, then stands next to you at the examining table. “It’s not always routine, but breast cancer’s on the rise in young women, so y’know. Gotta feel you up a little. I’m gonna have you lie back–” Roman puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes you backward, walking the line between forceful and gentle. “Do you ever check your breasts, sweetheart?”

“Not like - not really, I guess.” 

Roman hums. “Well, you should,” he tells you, reaching for your hand. “Arm goes up, hand behind your head like this, right there.” Roman bends your right arm into place and then opens the side of your gown, exposing your right breast to him. “Ready?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, he just touches you. You take a shaky breath as he walks two fingers over the flesh of your breast, up, down, and around again. He touches near your armpit and you jerk a little. “Oh, ticklish, are we?” Roman murmurs, now doing little circular massages, working his way from the outside in. You swallow hard. “Any pain here? Discomfort?” 

“No, it feels–” you gasp as his fingers touch your nipples, and Roman does a little hum as they pebble up under his touch.  

“Feels what, honey?”

You close your eyes, searching for the words as Roman covers your chest again. “Uh - doesn’t hurt.” 

He chuckles as he rounds the table, and repeats it all with your other breast. Hand behind your head, lightly and firmly pressing into your breasts with the pads of his fingertips. You keep your eyes closed, breathing heavily. You hope it passes off as anxiety, but Roman knows better. Thoroughly versed in female sexual health, he knows an aroused woman when he sees one. Good, he thinks. 

“You can sit up now,” Roman says, giving you a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. He helps you up and then stands in front of you, and opens the front of your gown to visually assess your breasts, apparently. They look good. No abnormalities in shape, texture, color. Healthy. Roman quite enjoys the look of your breasts, too. There’s a lot of things to love on a woman’s body - her ass, her curves. Her cunt (fuck, how he loves a pretty fucking pussy). But Roman’s always loved breasts. The soft, yielding flesh as he massages and gropes that flesh, the way nipples rise and harden with a practiced flick of his thumb, or tongue. 

Now finished with your breast exam, Roman covers your chest with your gown. He sits in his stool as you sit on the table, legs dangling over the edge, bouncing your mismatched sock-covered feet against the metal. He rolls his stool over to you, dragging his instrument stand a little closer as well. 

“Alright. Say ahh.”

“What?”

Roman laughs. “Your legs, genius. You know, say ahh? Open up?”

“O-oh. Okay.” 

Roman pulls out the stirrups from the table, and takes the liberty in assisting your feet into them. First one, then then the other. His hands are strong and cold, fingertips pressing gently into your skin. You can still feel them after he lets you go. “I mean, I guess you could open your mouth, though. Vagina, mouth. No real difference there, huh?”

He’s so unfathomably unprofessional and inappropriate fucking…rude, but you’re still throbbing for him. You wonder if he’ll notice your pulsing cunt, if it’s as visible as it feels. 

You feel awkward as the cool air ghosts over your exposed center, listening to the sounds of Roman getting ready for your pelvic examination. He rolls up his sleeves past the elbows first, then takes the two blue latex gloves on his instrument stand and puts them on, snapping the elastic on his wrist each time. “Ready?” Roman asks, tugging the material down as he wiggles his fingers. 

“Uh - yep. Yeah, I guess,” you breathe.

“Oh, fuck off. You’ll do fine,” Roman tells you, patting your leg. “You always do, right? C’mon. Scoot your ass down, sweetheart, you know the fuckin’ drill.”

You scoot a little down the table, holding your breath while looking up at the ceiling. Roman scoffs and rolls his eyes before standing up, sliding both of his gloved hands under your paper gown. He lifts you and situates your bare ass right at the edge of the examining table, then sits back down. “Yeahhh, there she is. Oh, that's sweet. You even shaved for me.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment and Roman’s subsequent snickering. You did shave for him. 

He touches you then, spreading you wide as he examines your vulva. And he called it - you’re fucking soaked, arousal glistening under the fluorescent lighting. He presses on your swollen labia, watching as your clit and your hole pulse. “Just relax,” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over your heat. “It’s just you and me, right? Relax for me, sweetheart.”

Okay. You can relax. You take a big breath in and breathe it out as you interlace your fingers, resting your hands on your tummy. “Good,” Roman tells you, lightly running his thumb over your clit. “Good fucking girl,” he praises quietly, noting the way your breathing changes and how your thighs twitch at those two little words. He’s teasing you, just for shits and giggles. His right as a gynecologist, really. Running his thumb up and down your seam, then circling your clit just once. 

Roman reaches for the Surgilube and the metal speculum, then squirts a generous amount of jelly onto the tool. He rubs it around, then turns the speculum to the side and notches it at your entrance, then slowly pushes it all the way inside your hole, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. “Oooh, shit. Is it cold?”

“Yeah, a little,” you answer, wincing. 

Roman pouts mockingly. “Poor thing,” he mumbles. “You’re just gonna feel a little pressure,” he tells you, widening the instrument. Again, Roman reminds you to relax - not that you can or will. With each loud click of the speculum opening comes a rather uncomfortable increase in pressure, but not necessarily painful. You’re squeezing, tightening around the speculum as Roman looks inside you. “You’ve got a niiiice fuckin' cervix, you know that?”

“Thank you?” 

“You’re welcome,” he says, reaching for another tool - a little brush. Fucking weirdo. Roman unwraps the brush from its plastic packaging, then leans forward as he inserts it inside of you. “Gonna feel a little tickle,” Roman lies, brushing your cervix with the tool. It’s less of a tickle and more of a light scrape, but it doesn’t totally hurt. Just feels…weird, more than anything. “Done,” he says, pulling the brush away from you and reaching for the collecting tube. He puts your sample into the tube and closes it tightly, then loosens the speculum and pulls it out of you.

You sit up, lifting your feet out of the stirrups. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You keep those fuckin’ legs open,” Roman scolds as he puts the tube into a small plastic bag with your name on it. “Doctor’s not done with you yet, honey. Good try, though,” he grins. 

Roman peels off his gloves next, then wipes a bit of the lube off of his wrist with a paper towel. He squirts more sanitizer into his palms then, the scent of isopropyl alcohol burning your nostrils as he rubs it into his hands. He puts on another pair of those blue gloves, snap, snap. As soon as he’s done, he’s rolling back in front of you on his stool.

“Just gonna feel around a bit for the pelvic exam,” he says, prodding at your folds with gloved fingers. He spreads your labia out, this time truly examining you, not just doing his secret little tease. He is a professional, after all. Somewhat, at least. Roman squirts a little more Surgilube onto his fingers before inserting them inside you, not that you need it. He bites down on his smile of amusement as you clench around him. 

He stands up then, reaching under your sheet with the other hand to press on your lower abdomen. He assesses how you feel inside, the size and position of your uterus and ovaries. Good, good. Nothing swollen or anything like that. 

You look at Roman and find him staring at you, his eyebrows raised. “Any pain?” he asks. You shake your head, and he nods. 

You can’t cum, huh? That’s what brought you in today? Oh, you poor fucking girl. If only Roman knew this whole time that you were struggling to reach climax, he would’ve done this sooner to you. It’s a mental block, more than likely. You said yourself that there’s something “wrong” with you, after all. 

There’s nothing wrong with you. Really. There’s nothing wrong with any woman who can’t orgasm. They, and you, just need Doctor Roy’s touch, his steady stroking and massaging. Just someone to show you that it can and will be done.

Roman adjusts the hand on your stomach and presses down firmer, then searches for that special little spot inside of you, the one he’ll use to make you see stars. “Feeling okay? Maybe a little discomfort, hm?”

Roman begins to rub your g-spot slowly, intentionally, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. You squirm on the table, tearing the paper underneath you. Legs starting to twitch. 

“N–just,” you gasp, arching your back, “Just pressure, Doctor.” 

“Uh huh, sure. Pressure.” Roman smirks at you. “I think you fuckin’ like this.” You sigh as he pulls his fingers out of you, then rubs on the seam of your cunt. Men - and women, too, for that matter - always forget this part. The labia are hardly touched enough. Roman drags his warm, gloved fingers through your folds, his other hand sliding up your torso. He opens your paper gown, exposing your breasts, and squeezes a handful of flesh there. Not harshly, just gentle. He rubs his thumb in circles over your nipple as he rubs your clit with his other hand, noting the way your breathing deepens. 

He massages your clit expertly, wearing a crooked grin as you grip into the soft leather of his exam table, further tearing at the sanitary paper. “Oh,” you moan, canting your hips into his touch. “Oh, Doctor - fuck.” 

Doctor. God, Roman loves that. Loves being called a lot of things. Sir. Fucking…Daddy. But Doctor, well. The prestige and power that comes with that little honorific is second to fucking none, isn’t it? 

Roman’s moving his hand lower again, and slipping two of his slick fingers into your cunt. He teases your other nipple as he pumps those two fingers in and out of you, savoring the way you squeeze him. Roman curls those fingers inside you, stroking lazily as he stares down at you. 

You’re making all the right noises, all the right faces. Those pretty moans and that scrunching of your nose. You’re gonna fucking cum. Roman’s gonna make you fucking cum. 

He strokes harder, now repeatedly curling against your g-spot. The action makes you moan loudly, and he clamps his hand over your mouth. “Shhh, honey,” he tells you, gagging you with two fingers. You taste your own arousal and the latex from his gloves, and instinctually suck on his digits, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t fingerfuck all of my patients like this, right? So keep quiet.” 

Roman steadily fucks you on his fingers as he adds his thumb into the mix, rubbing that swollen clit of yours as he works you. You’re getting sweaty now, soaking through your paper gown. Roman can feel your thighs twitching, and your walls beginning to pulse in non-rhythm. 

You try to speak but can’t with Roman’s fingers still in your mouth, and make only desperate little moans instead. It’s for the best, really. He knows you’re gonna try to tell him that it’s too much or whatever, not realizing what you’re on the brink of. 

“You’re gonna cum for me,” Roman tells you. “Okay? Doctor’s orders. Cum for me.” 

With the methodical, almost ruthless way he fucks you on his fingers, you have no choice but to lay there and fucking take it. Surrender to it. He’s got you trapped between his fingers, playing you like you’re an instrument. Pleasure seems to build almost exponentially, and before you know it you’re imploding; clamping down on Roman’s fingers as he relentlessly works you. The relief you feel is almost palpable, pleasure running through your veins in unending waves. 

Roman guides you through your orgasm until the very last of your twitches, then pulls both of his hands from your body. He leaves you gasping on the table as he removes his gloves, and when he looks back at you, you’re crying. It’s natural, of course. To be expected. He’s still gonna be a dick about it, though. 

“Oh my god, are you fucking crying?” he asks, joining you at the table. He helps your shaky legs out of the stirrups, then reaches for you. “Need a hand up?”

You take his hand and pull him close, wrapping yourself around him as you cry it out. All of that pent up energy, everything. “Oh, you’re fucking hugging me. Yeah, that’s…whatever. Uh huh. There, there,” Roman says, stroking your back. “Fuckin’ told you,” he adds. 

A knock at the door has Roman pulling away from you. “Welp, duty calls, huh? Pleasure to see you as always, and fuckin’...glad we sorted you out. You can schedule your next appointment up front and I’ll see you next year, I guess. Same time and place. Okay. Bye!”

If you enjoyed, let a girl know :) I love reblogs and when you hop in my inbox.

[ang3ltine]

"𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐲" - James Bucky Barnes x freader

Scenario - You and Bucky spend the last night in New York together at Starks expo with Steve. What he doesn't expect is for his date to be flirted with by a charming inventor.

a.n - this is set during Captain America the first avenger movie and is just self indulgence. Also let me know if you want a part 2!

warnings- slightly possessive Bucky, hickeys and suggestive comments but overalls has light banter and tooth rotting fluff

Bucky wasn't sure why you were so excited as you head home with shopping bags in hand.

He had picked you up from downtown after a shopping spree, but you hadn't told him what you had bought yet. Bucky pays the taxi driver his fee and he speeds off into the distance.

"Come on Bucky, can't you walk faster?" you ask impatiently as you gently drag him by the arm towards his apartment.

Bucky scrambles get his keys as you bounce on the spot, waiting for him to unlock the door before you make your way inside with the bags. Bucky chuckles at your enthusiasm while you brush past him.

You ask Bucky to wait in the hallway while you rush upstairs to unpack in his room. At this point its your room too from how many nights you stayed there. All your things was scattered around the snug room with a picture of you and Bucky on his nightstand.

Bucky waited patiently for you as he leaned against the wall. Growing worried as you were taking a while.

"Close your eyes Buck! I'm coming down" a muffled voice yelled from upstairs. He shook his head in amusement and closed his eyes.

"Ok doll, my eyes are closed," he shouted back as he waits patiently for your voice.

Bucky could hear the clicks of your heels coming down the stairs and hushed cursing because you misses a step. He was about to open his eyes out of instinct but stopped himself. Thinking that you're probably alright.

"Alright open them," you say with excitement. Bucky did what he was told and was in awe.

There you stood with a pale blue summer dress paired with a white bow that was neatly at the front. You had also quickly styled your hair with your curler. Giving you a classy look.

"Oh wow Darlin', you look gorgeous," Bucky was speechless as you reach the bottom of the stairs and twirl for him.

"Why, thank you kind sir," you say jokingly as you gave him a little curtesy. Giving him your best british accent while he bites back a smile.

"Was this my surprise?" Bucky asks as he pulls you in close by your waist and presses a sweet kiss on your lips. You pull away to quickly for his liking, eliciting a small whine leaving his lips.

"Let's just say it's one out of many surprises," you say, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "But that's for tomorrow."

"Oh c'mon, why not tell me now?" He whines slightly while you fix your hair in the hallway mirror.

"Bucky it's not a surprise if I tell you what it is," you huffed as you turn around to face the pouty man.

You take the hat off for a second to comb through his freshly trimmed hair with your fingers and styled it properly. His hair was messy due to stress so you had asked him to go to the Barbers the day before.

"But I'll be leaving tomorrow," he muttered, his voice wavering slightly.

During the whole process, you feel Bucky's eyes studying your face. Making you feel nervous despite being in such close proximity pretty much all the time. This time, however, his eyes held a look of longing that melted your heart.

"I know, but I promise it's worth it. So don't get too upset ok?" You whisper in a hushed tone as you place his hat back on. "Besides Sarge, we have a whole night to spend together."

Bucky bends down and nudges his nose against yours. Causing your breath to hitch as he pulls you by your waist into a firm yet loving kiss.

"Fine doll, I'm takin' your word for it."

He peers down at you with heavy lidded eyes and flashed you his signature smirk that always sets off butterflies in your stomach.

You wanted to tell him about the surprise but sadly, he'd have to wait until you both got back from Starks expo.

The two of you go to pick up Steve and his date and then head inside the building where Starks expo was being held.

Stark was a mastermind when it came to inventions, so you were super excited to see what he had in store for the future. The place was vibrant and futuristic that you had no idea where to look!

A group of girls gave you a dirty look as they walked past when they noticed Bucky's arm linked with yours. You give them a deviously sweet smile while you lean against his shoulder.

"Hm possessive aren't we?" Bucky snickers as he nudges you with his shoulder.

"I can't let all the ladies have you now can I?" You answered jokingly. Steve briefly looks over towards you both and had on a proud smile. Bucky sure seems to be happy with you and he thinks that maybe you're the right person for him.

Hearing the sound of trumpets playing and people cheering you turn your head towards a stage in the far corner of the room.

"Oh my God it's starting!" you jump in excitement and pull Bucky with you towards the crowd, while Steve and his date Maggie trail behind.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Its Howard Stark!" One of the show ladies announce, at least 3 of them were wearing oddly suggestive clothing. But you brushed it off as a marketing strategy.

You cringe as the lady then got pulled into a bold kiss by Howard.

At the corner of your eye you spot Steve handing some popcorn to Maggie but she refused with an uninterested look on her face.

"Hey Steve I'll have some."

Steve's eyes lit up as he hands you the bag of popcorn, you take a handful and give it back to him.

"Thank you," you smiled back at him, giving him a friendly peck on the cheek. He smiles back shyly in response while you turn your attention back to the stage and hand some popcorn to Bucky. Which he happily accepts.

"Can I have a volunteer come up?" Howard shouts into the mic as he scans the room. You stick your hand up while biting your lip in anticipation.

"You there, the lovely lady standing next to James," Bucky's eyes follow you in disbelief as he watches you walk nervously onto the stage. To be honest you didn't even know you'd get picked but tried to stay calm.

Howard kisses the back your hand while you roll your eyes at him playfully. You knew he was a womaniser so you didn't thinking much of it except for him being a gentleman.

"So what do I need to do?" You breathe out while you try not to look at the crowd. Knowing that Bucky is probably fuming right about now. Also you felt slightly uneasy with the crowd watching you.

"Ofcourse ma'am! You just need to press a few buttons for me on this panel," he states as he steps aside for you to stand behind the panel.

Meanwhile Bucky had his arms folded with an annoyed look on his face. Who the hell does he think he is? But his eyes soften when it met yours. You give him a small smile before pressing the buttons in the order Howard told you to do.

Amazingly enough, Starks car that had no wheels on began to hover off of the ground. Eliciting gasps of wonder and cheers in the crowd until it collapsed. Your shoulders slump in disappointment as you raise an eyebrow at the inventor.

"I did say it'll take a few years didn't I?" He sighs while turning back to face the crowd. You excuse yourself as he helps you off the stage.

Bucky found it a little ridiculous that he was jealous of Howard, but he had no right to flirt with you knowing that you were Bucky's date. Suddenly he had the intent on making you realise that you was all you needed.

Steve had wondered off while Maggie was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey Buck where's Steve and Maggie?" Before you could inquire further. Bucky pulls you into a kiss, his hands firms against your cheeks. He glances back to the stage while Howard shifts uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

You felt Bucky smirk against your lips as you try to push him away since you were still in the crowd. You hear whispers around you while Bucky continues to abuse your lips. Head tilting the side, his hot breath mingling with yours as he sucks lightly on your bottom lip. Causing you to moan into his mouth.

Eventually he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours while you both breath heavily from the short makeout session.

"Let me guess...is this about Howard?" You ask cautiously with one hand caressing his cheek, the light stubble tickling slightly against your skin. He hesitates before giving you a small nod.

"Bucky you have charm too you know. Why do you think so many women want to go out with you?"

Bucky listens carefully while you fix his now messy collar.

"Besides, Howard doesn't own my heart. You do."

"So I own your heart huh?" He asks sarcastically while he sees how your cheeks flush. You scoff then hit his chest lightly for being silly while he coaxes you to carry on.

"You're also smart," you pause to play with his collar. "And not to mention super silly."

By now his usual lopsided smile returned, giving you a sense of satisfaction for making him feel better.

"Hmm that's not what girls usually think of first," as he gave you a suggestive look.

"Buck! Seriously??" you smack him lightly on his head, making his hat tilt forward into his face. You're not sure what he was insinuating but you knew it was something inappropriate.

At this point you felt like you should just tell him what the surprise was since you couldn't really be asked to keep it to yourself any longer.

You pull out a folded letter from your back pocket and handed it to Bucky.

He raised a brow at you but you urged him to hurry up and open it. His face turning from confusion to one of pure joy.

"You got a job in England?! Why didn't you tell me?" he yells while you could only laugh with him as he picked you up and spun you around. "And it's in my division too!"

"I wanted it to be a surprise! Besides even I didn't know whether I'd get picked or not. I only just got the acceptance letter a few days ago." You manage to say whilst he placed your feet back onto the ground.

"Thank God that you did. I don't know if I could have ever survived without you," he retorts sarcastically. Making you roll your eyes at his comment and then gave him a playful punch on the arm.

"Well it looks like I'll be joining you at work, Sargent Barnes," giving him a proud salute, which almost caused him to choke as he let out a small laugh.

"It's good to have you ma'am," he answers back with the same enthusiasm, giving you a tip of his hat.

Despite Bucky being genuinely happy, you noticed tears forming in his eyes. A pang of guilt hit you as you held his face in your hands. Almost getting upset yourself while you swipe your thumbs across his cheeks to get rid of stray tears.

"Hey, pretty boys aren't supposed to cry ok?" your voice barely coming out as a whisper. You didn't want to cry too so you composed yourself for his sake.

He nods his head rather quickly at your words and a small yet fond smile appeared across his lips. You then proceeded to pepper his face with kisses which leads him to giggle in response.

After a while, he calmed down in your arms. He looks around the room briefly while his chin sat atop your shoulder before getting a curious idea.

Without a second thought he leaves your arms before being pulled through the crowd into a dark corner of the room with no people.

Bucky takes off his hat and places it on your head. It was pretty big so it falls awkwardly to the side. He almost bursts out laughing at how ridiculous yet cute you looked.

"Take care of this for me would you doll?" Giving you a wink before capturing your lips into a passionate kiss which caught you by surprise.

You wasted no time reaching to the back of his neck and slipped your fingers into his dark hair pulling him in impossibly closer. Soft moans escaped your mouth in-between each kiss while Bucky soaked in every one, pushing him to kiss you deeper.

"Hon' what're you doing?" You hiss while his lips leaves yours briefly.

"Hmm just need you" he hums against your supple skin.

A hot trail of open mouthed kisses trailed down from the side of your lips towards your neck. Bucky groaned in satisfaction when he finally found your sweet spot as you squirm underneath his touch. Leaving dark hickeys all across your neck and collarbone.

"Bucky we're going to get caught," you squeeked while you frantically look around. After feeling satisfied with his work, he leaves your skin with a pop.

"You're insufferable you know that right?" You manage to catch your breath, feeling slightly lightheaded.

"Yeah but you still love me." You shake your head in disbelief before pulling him in by his tie for one last kiss.

"You have no idea," you sighed in content as Bucky looks down at you lovingly.

"Love you too doll."

You two decide to head back in despite the obscene amount of marks left on your neck. Bucky suggested that you show them off but you thought otherwise. Using your jacket collar to help cover them to much avail.

Luck was in Bucky's favour as Howard sees you both coming.

He almost chokes on his drink when he catches you with Buckys hat on and spots the dark marks on your skin. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment while a now happy and proud Bucky stood by your side.

He then leads you away from the shocked man and headed towards Steve, his date now absent. He gave him a wave to get his attention.

Bucky leans over, as you shiver from the way he whispers into your ear, "By the way we're not finished yet. I still have to reward you when we get back to my place."

p.s - I hope you enjoyed this! It seems a little rushed but I want the next part to be longer that's why xd

[22ayla21]

Since you already have you mind set on the family men (I am not eyeing phainon) what if their children got hurt? (Like not a normal kids fight, like an actual spar)

Injury

The reaction of the Amphoreus men to their children being injured during sparring.

Unlike his wife, who might immediately rush to the children with anxiety, Mydei first assesses the situation. How serious is the injury? Can they get up on their own? Should they call a doctor? If these are ordinary bruises and contusions, he will just chuckle, but if something more serious, his gaze instantly becomes heavy.

On the outside, he remains collected and unperturbed, but inside, anxiety is burning. Especially if the children do not immediately respond or look too pale. He quickly checks their condition, examines the wounds and only then allows himself to relax (if there is nothing critical).

Mydei will not coddle, but he will not leave them without support. He will sternly say that sparring is not only about strength, but also about the ability to avoid unnecessary injuries. He can lightly nudge his son in the shoulder: "Be more careful next time," and say something like "A good fight, but the technique needs to be improved."

If a child can't stand up or has a broken bone, their calm will turn to icy fury. Especially if the injury could have been prevented. The doctor will arrive before anyone can realize what happened. And if someone was to blame for the injury (even the child himself, due to arrogance), he will draw conclusions.

If the children do not complain and endure pain, he is proud inside. Even if on the outside he chuckles: “You are definitely my child.” However, he will make it clear that he respects their strength, but reminds them that wounds need to be treated, not ignored.

Once they are well, he can arrange for them to spar with himself, to show them how to avoid such mistakes. But perhaps he will add something that he will not say out loud - give in a little, allowing them to feel their strength.

Later, when no one is looking, he can discreetly adjust the blanket on their sleeping body or leave something useful next to them - bruise ointment or hot tea. And if his wife notices, he will grumpily say: “It doesn’t mean anything.”

On the outside, he remains collected and cool, but on the inside, he is worried and irritated – not at the children, but at the situation itself. He instantly assesses the extent of the injury and decides how to proceed.

He will bandage the wound himself, treat it, and if the case is serious, he will immediately take his daughter to the doctors. Despite his strict approach, there is always care in his actions.

After he makes sure that everything is okay with his daughters, he will point out their mistakes without unnecessary emotion. He will not grumble or pity them, but will clearly explain what exactly they did wrong so that it does not happen again. He may darken a little and say something like: “Fighting is not fun. A mistake can cost more than just a wound.” His words are harsh, but there is no malice in them – only a desire for them to understand the cost of their actions.

He does not stop believing in them. He will remind them that mistakes are part of learning, but if they want to inherit his fighting style, they must learn to respect their weapons and their bodies. Despite the seriousness of the situation, deep down he is proud that his daughters are trying, following in his footsteps, and developing their skills. He will not say it out loud, but perhaps later he will pat them on the back or briefly say, “Next time, don’t make that mistake.”

After the incident, he will monitor their training more closely, perhaps even change the approach to minimize the risk of injury, but he will not forbid them from continuing training. He will not let the incident break their confidence, but perhaps suggest new training methods to avoid similar situations in the future. After all, mistakes are not a reason to give up, but an opportunity to become stronger.

Despite his confidence in the strength and resilience of his children, Phainon never lost his head in such situations. When one of his sons was injured, his face instantly became serious, and he rushed to him without hesitation. Phainon's gaze became intense, and his actions were quick and precise, checking his son's condition. First, he always paid attention to safety and the rapid elimination of possible damage.

His children knew that he could be strict and demanding, but in such moments Phainon tried to hide his anxiety. He did not want to show his sons that their injury could frighten him. He spoke confidently, in a calm voice, even if inside he was filled with anxiety: "Are you okay? Do not worry, we will solve everything soon."

Phainon never left his children without proper care. If the injury was serious, he did not hesitate to send one of the servants or assistants for medical help. He stayed with his son, keeping him calm and promising that everything would be fine. Even if it was a minor injury, he did not allow his son to relax, monitoring his condition.

After the injury was treated, Phaenon never lowered his children to the point of making them think of themselves as weak or helpless. Instead, he tried to teach them resilience, as well as the importance of being careful and careful. If the son was at fault for getting injured due to hasty or thoughtless actions, he would explain how to avoid such mistakes in the future, but without irritation or anger.

At the same time, despite his stern appearance, he was incredibly proud of how his sons handled difficulties. When his son recovered, he often showed his pride through quiet words of encouragement, such as: "You did well, son. You are strong."

[vbecker10]

Bucky comforting reader after a nightmare?🥺

You're Okay Doll, I'm Here

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) established relationship

Summary: You have a nightmare while Bucky is away on a mission and he comes home just in time to comfort you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this request! I absolutely love it. I hope you enjoy it 💚

The second the jet lands, Bucky picks up his gear and stands at the rear door waiting impatiently for the ramp to lower. As soon as it begins moving, he waves to Steve and Natasha over his shoulder without turning to check if they are following him. "I'll do my part of the paperwork in the morning," Bucky tells his teammates.

"Sure, that works," Steve responds, his attention focused on the checklist in his hand. "Night Buck," he adds a moment later but by the time he looks up, his friend has disappeared into the Tower.

"I guess he's in a bit of a rush to see Y/N again," Natasha laughs lightly as she switches off the last computer system in the jet.

Bucky shifts his bag to his other shoulder and presses the button for the elevator, hoping it will come quickly. Once the button lights up, he looks down to check his phone, hiding a yawn behind his metal hand. It's just a little after three in the morning, almost two hours later than he originally told you they'd be home.

As usual, your boyfriend had texted you when the mission officially ended and the jet took off to bring him home.

------------------------------------------------

Y/N: Yay! ❤️ Can't wait to see you!

Bucky: I'm excited to see you too, beautiful. It's going to be late though, we're still about five hours away. It's okay if you fall asleep before I get back

Y/N: I won't, I just started a new book 😊

Bucky: Ahh, I see. You're not waiting up to see your amazing boyfriend, you just want to finish your new book

Y/N: Lol you figured me out 😆

Bucky: That's how well I know you. I'll see you in a few hours doll, I'm going to try and take a nap

Y/N: Can't wait! Enjoy your nap 🥱 have a safe flight ❤️

Bucky smiles at your last text then closes his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and resting his cheek on his shoulder. He breaths slowly, thinking about the plans you made for next weekend to help him relax. With a wide yawn, he stretches then slips off to sleep a few minutes later.

An hour into the flight, Bucky's jolted awake and nearly thrown from his seat in the rear of the jet by heavy turbulence. He opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake to the sound of thunder surrounding the jet. The super soldier looks towards Natasha and Steve who are focused on flying through the driving rain.

After discussing the unexpected weather with his teammates, Bucky returns to his seat in the rear of the jet. The three of them agreed the storm was too large and violent to fly directly through and follow the original flight path. The decision was made to fly around the storm, adding at least an hour but possibly more to the trip home.

Bucky sighs deeply, looking at his phone unsure of what to do as the sky lights up from a large streak of lightening. If he tells you about the storm and how much longer it will take to get back, you'll stay awake worrying about him. If he doesn't tell you and he doesn't come home when he was supposed to, you'll worry something happened. The last thing he wants to do is cause you any more stress so he decides to close his phone and hope you're asleep when he gets home. Maybe you won't even notice how late he is.

Bucky opens the door to your shared apartment quietly, not wanting to wake you if you had fallen asleep on the couch like you had several times in the past. The living room is dark expect for a small bit of light that shines from under the bedroom door. He knows the light doesn't mean you're still awake, you've fallen asleep with it on while reading plenty of times.

He takes off his jacket then kicks off his shoes and places his bag down by the door. Bucky walks silently through the living room without turning any of the lights on and heads straight for your bedroom.

As he gets closer he smiles to himself, remembering when he came home from a mission a few weeks ago and you were fast asleep. Bucky will never forget how absolutely adorable you looked curled up in the large bed, hugging his pillow tightly and wearing his favorite shirt. After a few moments of watching you from the doorway, he slipped carefully under the covers and pulled you into his arms. You sighed deeply when you felt his arms around you and he kissed your cheek and neck softly until you smiled and mumbled his name in your sleep. When you opened your eyes, you had the most beautiful smile and told him your dream came true.

Bucky reaches your bedroom door and listens for a moment to see if your still up reading. Instead of hearing a soft giggle or pages turning, he hears you groan and say something he can't quite make out. He pushes the door open, his eyes quickly adjusting to how bright the room is.

The lamp on your side of the bed is still on and a book lays open on the bed but it falls to the floor when you roll over quickly and yank on the sheets. It takes Bucky a moment to realize you're not trying to get comfortable, you're having a nightmare.

You squeeze your eyes closed tightly and breath heavily as your nightmare intensifies. "Bucky... come home," you mumble, kicking at the sheet as you scream those words in your dream.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and tries to reach for you but you roll over once again, your legs now tangled in the sheet from trying to kick it away. He gently grabs ahold of the sheet and frees your legs so you don't make it worse, "Y/N, wake up." You don't respond to him or notice when he climbs onto the bed next to you.

"Please... come back..." you beg in your sleep as several tears land on Bucky's pillow. You turn your head and groan again in your sleep.

He moves closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and talking gently to you. "Wake up, baby you're having a nightmare," he tells you as he pulls you onto his chest and rubs your back.

You open your eyes suddenly, gasping as the images from your nightmare repeat in your mind. "Bucky..." you breath out his name and try to catch your breath.

Your body tenses at the sudden contact and he loosens his hold of you but doesn't let go completely. He can feel your shakey breathing and rapid heartbeat as your chest rests on his. He kisses the top of your head lightly and rubs your back again. "Y/N, open your eyes for me. You're having a bad dream, you need to wake up," he says a little louder to break through your deep sleep.

"You're okay doll, I'm here," he says, his arms hold you to his chest, letting you know he's really with you.

"You didn't come home," you tell him as your eyes fill with tears. You press your cheek against his chest and hug him back tightly.

He rubs your back in slow circles and kisses the top of your head several times. "I'm so sorry, we hit some rough weather and I didn't want to worry you," Bucky says, his heart breaking when he realizes he is the cause of your nightmare.

You look up at him, "Bucky, I always worry about you. I'm always afraid you're not going to come home."

He wipes away a tear that rolls slowly down your cheek then kisses your cheek lightly. You give him a small smile and he says, "I'm sorry I didn't text you. I know I should have but I'm always going to come home."

"You promise?" you ask, biting your lip nervously.

His fingers move under your chin and he tilts your head up so he can kiss your lips like he haa wanted to since he left you days ago. You kiss him back deeply, closing your eyes as his hand slides down your lower back. When he finally breaks the kiss, he smiles, "I promise Y/N. I may be late sometimes, but I will always come home to you, always."

You smile and place a quick kiss to his lips then rest your head on his shoulder. "You better, cause I really like you," you giggle and wait for his response.

"You really like me?" he repeats and you nod without lifting your head, smiling wider. "Well that's awkward cause I love you," he says.

"So awkward," you agree then jump as Bucky suddenly begins to tickle you. You giggle and squirm in his arms, trying to get away.

"Tell me you love me," he says with a smirk as he continues to tickle you.

You shake your head no but there's no escaping him. Bucky waits for you to lift your head so he can kiss your cheeks and nose, his fingers still tickling your body. "I... love... you," you manage to force those three words out between laughs and he smiles down at you, his hands now resting calmly on your back.

"That's better," he kisses your lips then reaches over and turns off the light. "Goodnight doll," you can hear the smile in his voice as he pulls the sheet back up around you both.

"Goodnight Bucky," you answer with a yawn as you curl up against him. You kiss his cheek and close your eyes, feeling more comfortable and relaxed than you have in days. His metal fingers run gently up and down your arm as you drift off to sleep.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[zorosangell]

First of all, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Can't thank you enough for gracing us all with your fics. They've made me smile and gush over em many times. Heaven knows I'm too far gone to be simping some more on Zoro but THE FICS JUST MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM SO MUCH MORE. You write and make me envision him so beautifully. The Inn Series are THE BEST and my FAVES so far. 💚

Lastly, an ask if you're still taking requests: Writing Zoro with a reader/OC with a dynamic where they're both equally strong parts of the Straw Hat crew and always draw inspiration from each other as they journey on together. Slow burn and idiots who don't know they have feelings for each other + a scene with tension while they're sparring/swordfighting? 🥺

⛥ﾟ・。 white lotus

synopsis: you and your squadron reprimand zoro and bring him back to the castle after he's found wandering around in your kingdom's forest. turns out, the crew is already there since, surprise surprise, luffy destroyed something he wasn't supposed to. now the crew has to plead their case... but while they're doing so, zoro can't seem to keep his eyes off a certain someone, nor understand the weird feeling in his chest at the sight of her strength.

cw: part 1/3 (possibly more), fluffy fluff, comfort, zoro is a bit of a simp, sanji is definitely a simp, reader has a facial scar (nothing crazy), reader is FIONE, i hate writing fighting scenes but with this series imma do my best

a/n: went a bit overboard with this one but i really enjoyed the concept (also plz forgive my upload schedule my life is chaos)

a/n 2: AND DON'T BE AFRAID TO SEND MULTIPLE ASKS I LITERALLY LOVE THEM IDK

With a soft sigh, Zoro rolled his shoulders, muscles melting into the rough bark of the olive tree he rested under as he shifted.

Smoothly, he tucked his hands behind his neck, letting out a faint yawn before tilting his head to glance up, a small smile rising to his lips at the clear sky and soft breeze.

A guy could really get used to this...

It was a known fact that Zoro was no stranger to hard work—he'd had the same, strict training regiment since the ripe age of ten—and was often very selective of the pleasures he allowed himself to indulge in.

But... if there was one secret satisfaction he found in everyday life, it was a good summer island.

Especially if there was nothing to be done.

No evil tyrants.

No endangered princesses.

No oppressed villages.

Don't get him wrong, he loved to fight more than anything—the rush of battle, the chance to test his strength against unbeatable foes, the ability to emerge victorious and land one step closer to his dream.

But everyone deserved a break every once in a while.

And now, after straying from the crew and getting lost in the sun-dappled glade bordering the southern ridge of the island, all the swordsman wanted to do was rest against a well-shaded tree, drink some sake, and take a solid nap.

That is... until you showed up.

The sound of a snapping twig quickly ripped Zoro from his slumber, his eye widening at the sight before him as he instantly drew one of his swords, managing to meet your spear with only a fraction of a second to spare.

The reverberations from your powerful clash tore through the tree he was leaning against as if it were butter, sharp cracks echoing through the empty clearing before it finally split in two, the pieces toppling on either side and exposing the splintered wood within.

Swiftly, you used your shield to push off, putting some space between you two before you launched another attack.

"State your name!" you barked, the iciness of your tone sending a cold shiver down the swordsman's spine. "What is your business on Nabis?"

The two of you collided once again, but rather than attempt another test of strength, you went straight for the head, Zoro managing to dodge by the skin of his teeth before pushing you off with a second sword.

'Goddammit, Usopp... told me this place was uninhabited.'

The man was shocked to say the least.

He had honestly never seen someone move so fast, nor get the jump on him so easily.

"I said state your name! What is your business here?!"

The words seemed to go in one ear and out the other as he finally got a good look at you, the will to listen leaving him.

You had smooth, silky chestnut skin that stood out among the polished, gold armor you donned, consisting of a breastplate, greaves, vambraces, and spaulders, along with a scarlet tunic that fell teasingly high, yet somehow still covered your ass.

Paired with that was your large, gold helmet, which only exposed your ears, nose, and mouth, and had a large, red mohawk running down its center.

But the statement piece of it all... was your eyes.

Although shaded slightly by the shadows of the helmet, they were still just as piercing and entrancing as they were in the sun, maybe even more so.

You stared him down with cold calculation, as if it would take nothing to cut him down where he stood.

And he found that hot.

He found that really hot.

"I will not ask you again, swordsman! State your name, and your business on Nabis!" you bared your teeth, your stance readying you for another attack.

"What's it to you?" he asked, having finally found his voice.

"We detained a pirate crew this morning. Their captain caused a scene in the middle of Leonidas Square," you raised your spear to point at him. "Are you an ally to a rubber man known as Luffy?"

At the name, Zoro groaned, fervently fighting off the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

'Of course...'

He leaves them alone for a few hours and everything goes to shit.

"What happens if I say yes?"

As your brows furrowed, your hand swirled your spear back into its upright position, a rather awe-inspiring feat seeing as it was about a few inches taller than you and made of solid gold.

"I bring you back to the royal castle where you will face the queen's judgement alongside your crew."

For a moment, Zoro paused, ruminating on the option.

It didn't sound too shabby, and if the whole crew was together, whatever forces were waiting didn't stand a chance.

"Fine, then," he sighed, sheathing his two swords before raising his arms in the air. "I surrender."

Still wary, you gave him a firm nod, slowly coming out of your rigid stance to stand fully erect.

Suddenly, a squad of a little over ten men emerged from the trees, grabbing hold of Zoro and cuffing his wrists with haki-imbued shackles, allowing you to step closer until you were standing right in front of him.

"Swordsman, in the name of Queen Calysta, you are hereby under arrest."

"Hey, Zoro! Ya made it!" Luffy cheered, grinning widely as the moss-haired swordsman was ushered into the throne room.

"That's not something to be happy about, Luffy!" Nami and Usopp exclaimed, both of them hitting him upside the head with their shackles.

"Ouchie!"

"I take it they found you wandering around in the woods, eh?" Franky asked, raising a brow as the man was moved to stand next to him.

"Was in the middle of a nap, actually," Zoro corrected with a sigh, eye slowly gliding to your form standing a few feet away. "A good one, too. 'Til someone had to come along and ruin it."

Now that he was really looking, he noticed that you were the only guard in the entire room with gold armor, the rest of the them donning some sort of bronze or worn silver.

His brows furrowed, slightly confused.

'Weird.'

Just then, a loud horn blew, every soldier standing at attention and turning toward the elevated throne.

"Now arriving! Her Majesty... Queen Calysta!"

A sharp flourish bounded off the walls, playing proudly as the woman entered the room, catching the awe of the entire crew.

She looked young enough to be in her forties, barely a wrinkle or vein in sight, but the locks of silver and deep grey cascading down her armored back proved that she was significantly older.

Though her walk still carried a certain aura, powerful and unwavering as she approached the steps, and eventually scaled them before sitting down on the menacing throne—it was decorated by the shattered fragments of enemy swords.

"And advising! High General of the Nabisian Army... Her Highness... Princess (y/n)!"

'Princess?'

To Zoro's thorough surprise, you were the one to step forward at the introduction, the man watching with a wide eye as you strode up to your mother's side, receiving an acknowledging nod from her before you turned to face the crew.

In one, smooth motion, you removed your helmet, your eyes finding the moss-haired swordsman as you finally revealed your face.

"Holy shit," he muttered under his breath, a faint tinge pink burning up his neck as his heart stuttered to a sudden stop, the skin of his chest tightening over itself and constricting his air supply.

You were hands-down the prettiest women he had ever seen; utterly gorgeous.

From your eyes to your lips to your hair to the rather prominent scar that spanned across the bridge of your nose, you were breath-taking, each feature only further accentuating your natural beauty.

"My dreams have come true! I'm in the presence of a real-life goddess!" Sanji squealed, eyes bulging out their sockets as his tongue lulled out his mouth, a singular trickle of blood rolling out his nose.

"My word! What a dazzling beauty!" Brook marveled, flailing his arms. "Miss, could you be so kind as to show me your panties?"

"Knock it off, you two!" Nami barked, kicking them both upside the head.

"Which of you is the one known as Luffy?" your mother asked, her powerful voice instantly shutting down all side conversations.

"That's me!" Luffy answered, proudly, his smile never wavering.

Though, the guards were quick to change that, roughly grabbing him by his shackles before pulling him forward and forcing him to his knees, their spears crossing above his neck to keep him from lifting his head.

"Hey! Watch it!" Zoro barked, brows furrowing at the treatment of his captain.

"The hell's all this for, anyway!" Franky exclaimed.

"We didn't do anything!" Sanji scoffed.

"Yeah, what's the big idea?" Usopp agreed.

"You destroyed the tribute to my father!" you bellowed, your eyes zeroing in on the crew's captain. "You besmirched his memory!"

"Hey, lady, I didn't de-birch anything!" Luffy fired back with a pout.

"What did you do this time?!" Nami groaned, utterly confused.

"I dunno! I have no idea what she's even talking about!"

"Luffy, remember when you rushed into the market and ate at every food stall?" Robin chimed, maintaining her smooth monotone.

"Yeah?"

"Well, after that you burped, and it was so powerful that it blew over and shattered the statue standing in the middle of the town square. I assume that's the one she's talking about."

"Oh! Now I remember! Yeah, I've never burped that hard before. That food was really yummy!"

"Apologize, you idiot!" Usopp exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah," Luffy nodded, bowing his head so low that his hat fell off his head, "I'm really sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

"Is there anything that can we do to make it up to you?" Nami asked, sincerely. "We can pay to get it fixed. Or rebuild it, if you like."

"My father was the hero of our people, and did not deserve to be burped on! What he has done is the ultimate disrespect!" you scoffed, sharply. "You cannot buy our good graces! The penalty for such contempt is death!"

"WHAT?!"

"Unless..." the queen piped up, calmly. "You can assist us with a problem of our own."

At that, your eyes widened, your head instantly snapping over to her.

"Mother, you can't—"

"Silence."

Pausing for a brief moment, you warred with her, eyes meeting in a silent, defiant clash before you finally gave in, taking a tentative step back as she turned to her personal guard, sharing a knowing look.

Without having to say a word, she summoned four servants to the throne room, each of them carrying a handle to a stretcher, which had a very sickly-looking boy sitting on top.

Looking closer, Zoro noticed that the kid looked an awful lot like you and the queen.

"Being pirates, you must have a doctor on your crew, yes?" Calysta asked, more as a statement than a question. "Step forward."

Timidly, Chopper presented himself, nervously fiddling with his hooves.

"The best healers this kingdom has to offer have tried and failed to cure this boy of his illness. If you can... then all will be forgiven."

With a silent nod, Chopper quickly ran forward, meeting the boy as the servants lowered the stretcher to the reindeer's level.

The doctor performed his tests with lightening speed and precision, completing all of which before finally coming to the conclusion that—

"I'm afraid he's infected with White Lotus disease," Chopper stated, removing his stethoscope. "It would explain his paleness, along with his labored breathing."

"White Lotus?" the queen raised a brow, stroking her chin.

"It's a rare disease caused by an invasive plant species known as White Lotus. They appear suddenly in bodies of fresh water, and release spores invisible to humans that are toxic to breathe in."

Rummaging through his bag, he finally managed to pull out a large vial of purple liquid, along with an empty syringe.

"Luckily, we've caught it before it could get any worse. If you'd waited any later, he would have certainly died."

"So you can save him?" you asked, hopefully.

"Mhmm," Chopper nodded with a smile, carefully injecting some of the liquid into the boy's arm, "Give him two shots of this a day, and he should be good as new in no time!"

A wide smile broke out onto your lips as you turned to your mother, the two of you sharing a look of relief.

The joy on your face sent Zoro's heart into a frenzy, flush burning all the way up to his ears now.

Damn, you had a nice smile.

"If you know what body of water he went to, you should definitely close it off to the people. Especially if they use it for drinking. And make sure your men remove the plant with masks so they don't get sick, too."

"Thank you, Dr. Chopper. We will do just that," Calysta grinned, standing from her throne. "As per our agreement, all is forgiven! And for saving my son, it would be my pleasure to make you and all your friends our honored guests at tonight's royal banquet!"

"All right! Party time!" Luffy cheered, the guards standing down at your command and allowing the captain to rise to his feet.

The throne room erupted with roars and whoops of joy, soldiers, servants, and Strawhats alike utterly elated to see that the young prince would be okay.

Among the chaos, your eyes managed to land on the green-haired swordsman once again, something warm thrumming through your stomach at the realization that he'd already been staring at you.

Although you were High General, and the crown princess at that, at your very core you were also a woman.

Hell, you were a person with eyes.

It was clear as day that the swordsman was incredibly, almost bafflingly handsome, and you'd be a liar if you said you weren't checking him out while your squadron perp-walked him through the woods.

Broad shoulders...

Strong chest...

Sexy voice...

Nabisian men were not small nor frail in the slightest, but even still, the man dwarfed most of them in both size and strength—if your clash told you anything.

And now that he and his crew were no longer enemies of the crown, it was no longer immoral to have more... unsavory thoughts about him.

Unable to resist, you flashed the man a smooth, coy smile, relishing in his obvious fluster as his back suddenly straightened, eyes seeming to flick toward everything but you.

Oh, yeah... you were gonna have a good time tonight.

[purplxbuttxrfly]

Rin Itoshi :Jealousy ♡

°•°•Synopsis. Rin is completely in love with you and therefore has complete trust in you, but that doesn't mean he isn't jealous.

°•°• Note. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

°•°•cw. Rin Itoshi x Female!Reader!Mention!of!Jealousy!Fluff

Oh my god I'm so in love with Rin that I got a little carried away in this writing.

Rin Itoshi is known for being a cold, insensitive, slightly emo player who never smiles or very rarely smiles, and especially as someone who HATES physical contact. But that's only as a player, and it's also the image he wants to show others. He absolutely doesn't want to show his true personality to everyone, but you're not everyone.

You are his life partner, and you are the only person in this world that Rin lets see his true personality and his weaknesses. It took time, a lot of time, but it was worth it because now he trusts you completely.

Rin loves you so much that sometimes it hurts him. He's in pain because he's afraid you'll leave him to go with someone better than him, because yes, he knows he's not the best companion. He's in pain because he's afraid you won't love him as much as he loves you. He's in pain, he's suffering so much his heart is overflowing with love for you and he doesn't know how to express this love. Rin Itoshi is literally lovesick for his girlfriend.

Rin is cold and hates physical contact, but only on the surface, because all it takes is slipping your hand into his to make him melt with love for you. With you, Rin is like a big teddy bear who exists for one thing: to be kissed and cuddled by you.

Rin is afraid that you'll leave him for someone else, that's a fact. So naturally he became jealous. And especially of Sae. So you don't understand why because the only times you've talked to him are at the Itoshi family meals. And he totally trusts you, but sometimes he just can't help himself. Like that time you went to the nail salon to get new nails done. When you came home with your new nails, all happy and proud of your choice of design, you rushed to the couch where Rin was sitting looking at his phone. You arrive in front of him all smiles and wait for him to see you.

"Yes, what is it?"

He said, looking up at you.

" Look, what do you think?" You say, waving your painted fingers in front of his face.

He stared at your nails with a disinterested look, as he didn't care at all, until a detail on your left ring fingernail caught his attention. On this one, the number "10" had been painted in white.

" Why the number 10? "

You were glad he noticed and asked, because adding that detail just for him had cost a little more.

"Because 10 is my lucky number," You say.

" And since when? It seemed to me that it had always been the 22nd. Why did you change it?"

Damn, he figured you out. You're going to have to tell him the real reason. Honestly, you were a little disappointed he didn't figure it out on his own.

"Well, because 10 is your player number, Rin."

He suspected it a little, but when you confirmed it to him with that disappointed little face, he couldn't help but find you adorable. However, he also felt a certain jealousy.

" Why with an "R" or my first name, it's short enough to be written on your nail"

You're confused by the hint of hostility in his voice.

" Because I've done this the last few times, I wanted something new, and I thought putting your player number would be nice."

" Okay great, but you know I'm not the only soccer player wearing number 10, right? "

He tells you this as if you had done something serious.

" Like who? Tell me? "

" Like Sae..." He said these words coldly.

You sigh. Here we go again.

"But who cares about Sae! "

"Yeah, but it's still his number too."

"But who cares, I had it written with YOU in mind and for YOU!" You say, emphasizing the "you" of course.

" Okay that's all right"

" Rin...tell me why you're looking for enemies where there aren't any? Don't you trust me?"

" No, I trust you, but I don't trust others."

At that moment, you find him cute. You sit down next to him and hug him. And Rin knows at that moment that he's cracked your heart a little with his misplaced jealousy. He places his phone on the table before wrapping his arms around your back. Then, once he's holding you close, he gently lets himself lie down on the couch, ending up with you lying on top of him.

"Sorry if I hurt you," He breathes softly.

"Even if you broke my heart, I would still love you, because you are the only one who has my heart." You answer him.

Your words have the effect of making him fall even more in love with you, and he didn't think that was possible, because he was sure that he had already given you all the love he could offer.

Rin then thinks that all those fangirls who express on social media how lucky you are to be dating him are wrong. He's the one who's so lucky to have you as his girlfriend.

But even though Rin is very jealous, you can't say that you're innocent either. You're even more jealous than him sometimes. And let's be honest, Rin really likes it when you're jealous of another girl who's a little too close to him for your liking.

Once, while you were shopping, you were trying on summer dresses that you liked, not forgetting to show each one to your boyfriend. When you opened the door to your office to show Rin your latest dress, he complimented you before handing you another dress. He had noticed it while you were changing, and upon closer inspection, he was convinced that this one would suit you perfectly.

You take it to try it on and at that moment, you hear Rin's phone ring. He tells you he's leaving the store to answer it while you put on the dress.

After ten minutes, his call ends, and as he hangs up and is about to go back to you, he feels an arm grab his. Thinking it's you, he turns his head with one of those cute smiles he only gives you.

"You are here my lov..."

"Hello, you're all alone."

It wasn't you. It was another woman desperately clinging to his arm.

" I'm sorry, but I have to go meet my girlfriend. " He said with a cold, dark look.

" Oh come on, there's no point in acting. I've been watching you for five minutes and you're alone. Come on, come with me. "

You watch the scene from the store's checkout as you pay for your dresses. You keep smiling despite the storm of jealousy going on in your head. You thank the cashier and wish her a good day, still with a pretty smile, but the moment you step out of the store, your smile falls and you stare at the woman clinging to your boyfriend's arm. You walk towards them, putting on an angelic smile again.

" Rinni, I'm here. We can continue. "

He freezes when he hears your voice. He'd noticed the hint of anger in it. You approach them before grabbing onto Rin's other arm.

" Hello, may I know what you are doing to my boyfrie....my husband? "

Oh my god, if you weren't in a public place, he would have died of happiness right there the moment the words "my husband" came out of your mouth.

"Your husband?" Said the woman. "Yet I don't see any wedding rings on his finger, nor on yours."

She's looking for war, you think.

" What good does it do to you? He is then taken to let go of the pieces and leave it. "

You say, claiming your property (Rin), making sure to place his arm between your breasts. And this gesture cannot leave Rin unmoved when he feels your chest pressing against him. He then takes the initiative to lean in to kiss you.

Seeing this, the woman sighs before leaving.

" It was about time"

You say, taking Rin with you.

" You are pretty when you are jealous "

" Oh my god, shut up..."

Despite your firm words, Rin saw the redness on the tips of your ears appear when he told you that you were pretty.

In most couples, jealousy is only a source of arguments and separation, but for Rin Itoshi and you, each other's jealousy only brings you closer and closer ♡

Do not copy, do not translate

[weebsinstash]

Please, please tell me I’m not the only one thirsting and wanting to throw hands with Battle Beas. Like imagine a magic reader who has been so repressed, having to hold back their emotions or hurt people. But then going fuck this and swinging, and promptly fucking on the floor covered in each blood

Oh no, absolutely, that man has a knot, no one can convince me otherwise, and he's been on my mind for a while now

There's a scene in the comics where he just got done fucking some alien chick who basically pledged herself to him and he comments on how she managed to draw blood during sex and he's very clearly into it, so OBVIOUSLY I have to think about Battle Beast with our dear Reader where he gets a massive endorphin rush off of fighting you that leads to... other things

For example, let's go to our proposed plotline of "Reader who is Nolan's child and you're hiding your powers from your family". I can't help but picture a scene where like you're trying to play dumb and helpless as your brother is in his costume trying to defend poor innocent you as you unfortunately happened to be around when this violent alien suddenly appeared and Battle Beast-- whose name is Thokk by the way-- takes one look at you and INSTANTLY, he's pointing a finger at you, "You. You are a foe much more worthy of my time. "

Bro I would be fucking PISSED, because what the fuck do you mean I've successfully hid my alien powers for years and now I'm forced to reveal myself because some furaffinity looking mf starts literally attacking me??? Nolan trying to watch from a distance and is ready to intervene just as he manages to see you give BB a NASTY uppercut that sends him soaring up into the stratosphere while Mark is preoccupied spitting out his own teeth from one too many hits from the alien monster

Like what other fucking option would you have? Even if you stood there and pretended to be helpless, the minute Thokk hits you and you don't instantly die will reveal you clearly have powers, so you might as well try and run his fucking fade, give him the two biscuits no drink combo, you put in the 40 hours with some overtime into beating his ass, or at least try to

Outcome A is that your raw natural strength prevails and you win and refuse to kill him because he's already defeated and you don't see the point in it and he just recovers and comes back for a rematch and if he loses, the cycle repeats

Outcome B is that your natural talent but overall lack of training isn't quite enough for his personal experience and battle expertise and he manages to overpower you and has a higher endurance than you

So, this is a minor but in my opinion very unimportant spoiler, but the reason Battle Beast is in fact THE Batttle Beast is because he's literally cursed to constantly seek out the strongest opponent and fight them and he actually has no choice, it's an uncontrollable compulsion, but he has a very strong sense of honor on top of this. I like to picture where he finally defeats you, but, he can oh so easily tell that you're nowhere near your full potential, and he can't help but... crave the excitement of seeing you become even stronger, so... obviously he can't take your life yet. Taking your chastity though, both as a consolation prize and to enrage you into getting stronger to defeat him in the future, though? He likes the idea of that. There's something primal and oh so satisfying about watching you squirm like a little prey animal as he gets to do whatever he wants

Something something "through whatever means Thokk'a curse breaks or is removed by someone else, maybe even a Reader who is a magic user instead of a Viltrumite hybrid, but he's still addicted to fighting and he celebrates by beating your ass and taking you as a mate since he's no longer 'required to kill you"

We already know the man fucks! It's not like he's completely mindless! And he's huge! He ain't perfect but we know he can fuck up Viltrumites! Comic readers know he's one of the best fighters in the entire series if his pride didn't get in the way!

Not to be foul but. Reader just completely subdued and panting for air because you're completely worn out as you're kept on your knees and elbows while Thokk has you knotted from behind and is purring up a storm because he's so content. His back and arms and chest are covered in bleeding scratches from your nails. YOUR blood is creating little mats in his once pristinely white fur and he couldn't be happier. Dya think if you had short hair he would lick it to help groom the blood out of it while you're locked together, I mean, if you imagine him having a more feline tongue. His mouth shape makes humanoid kissing kind of hard anyways, although, a barbed scratchy tongue sounds a lot less appealing if you think of him lacking your skin or, other parts 👀

Again, a spoiler I don't find very important in even the slightest because it doesn't go anywhere but he DOES have at least one kid (which tbh was kind of a dick move on his part because the magic curse is??? Congenital somehow??). So. He obviously doesn't give a fuck in terms of being against it if you're capable of getting pregnant and he put a cub or two in you. Maybe he would actually enjoy getting to raise a little warrior now that he knows he isn't forced to forever travel the stars killing. He just wants to now, lol, but he knows he can "take some time off" and actually do other things now. Like knocking you up! Maybe even a few times! And he'd get off on it in a twisted way because, aw, he managed to conquer every part of you, didn't he? You can punch and kick and scream at him but you can't stop him from getting you pregnant, huh? Your womb can't somehow resist him, especially when he's got the both of you locked together as he purrs and listens to you sling cursed and insults at him and demanding he pulls out, which he won't until he's finished, because that would be admitting defeat, or so is his excuse

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fantasy 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Curtis Everett

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Curtis and Whimsy.

Summary: the bookshop window holds intrigue for both buyer and seller.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Jake always says Curtis should go outside more. Coming from Jake, it could be an insult. He takes the advice that day. It might not be that dumb.

It's an excuse really. He's 'cleaning' the windows. Busying himself as he waits. For her, of course. Like he does every day.

He gave up trying to pretend a while ago. Seeing her pass by helps him track the time that drags by. He should be happy. He's no longer standing out in the sun, getting burnt as he holds a sign or lays tar. He has his shop but it's just not enough. It's lonely.

Jake laughed. Well, he typed LMAO when Curtis said so. A lone wolf like him, lonely? Don't call me that, Jensen.

He pulls the squeegee down. The sun might be a little less cruel if he wore anything lighter than black. He never pays much attention to the forecast.

He checks the time through the window, that old clock hanging behind the counter. She should be there soon--

Something wet splashes his leg and a squeal cuts through the air. He was so distracted trying to predict her, trying to look busy, that he hadn't heard her. She's kicked over the bucket. She stumbles over it and he turns to catch her, dropping the squeegee as he does.

"I'm so sorry," she braces his arms as she holds herself up. He feels big. Strong. She feels tiny. Especially with the bruise around her eye. "I wasn't looking--" She gently draws away and the emptiness returns. She bends to pick up the bucket and retrieves the squeegee to hand it back. "I was trying to see the books."

He looks at the window, "I'm in your way."

She stares at him as he dares to glance back. Her eyes as pensive. Does the recognise him?

"You work here? That must be wonderful."

"I... I own it." He answers.

"You own it?" She turns back to the window. "That's so cool. I always wanted to work in a bookshop. But I suppose you don't get to read all day or whatever."

"Well... I do," he tilts his head.

"Oh," she utters dreamily. She goes rigid and looks around him. She gulps. "I'm going to be late."

"Sorry," his chest pits. "I didn't mean to get in your way."

"No, I should've looked," she smiles but it's not quite that. She looks forelorn. "I gotta go."

"Sure," he says. "Be safe."

"Yeah, get dry," she says back. "Sorry again."

She flits past him. He's sweating and for more than the sun. He puts the squeegee in the bucket and sighs. He looks down, only then feeling the moisture up his leg and in his soles.

He retreats inside. He puts the cleaning stuff in the back and goes back to his seat. He can't focus enough to pick the book up again. He balances the till. He'll get the after work rush and have to do it again. He doesn't mind.

When he sees her again, her head is down. That man she's with walks ahead of her, stomping. She follows, hugging herself as she hides from the sunlight. He remembers how it shone in her eyes. Now she's cast in gloom.

It makes him mad. How can someone have her only to make her miserable? She deserves better.

His chest churns. He thinks of those meetings. He thought the others were a bit pathetic but they aren't so different. And they aren't entirely wrong.

He's doing her harm by not doing anything. He's as guilty as the man who makes her cry. The same one who put that swell in her cheek. He balls his fists.

He doesn't think. He grabs the copy of Wuthering Heights from the window. The one he painted himself in hopes she'd stop and admire it.

He doesn't know what he's doing. He locks the door. It's like before. Prowling like a cat in the shadows but it's still so bright he feels exposed.

The way home is made longer by the racing beat of his heart. He watches them go inside. The curtains are drawn. Fuck.

He paces around her balcony. Go back, Curt. You're being stupid.

Fuck it.

He climbs the tree. He drops onto the balcony just before a pair of pedestrians turn the corner. He catches his breath as he frees the book from under his arm. He's still not sure what's next.

He listens at the door. The man is yelling. She cries out and there's a thump. He winces.

He knew it all along but that's the proof he needs. More than he should have waited for.

He opens the screen door. The inner door is unlocked. He lets himself in.

"What the fuck--" The man doesn't finish his confused holler as Curtis hurls the book at his head.

The woman squeals from the floor. Curtis has his hands around the monster's neck. He can't think. He sees red. Literally. He sees himself smashing this man's nose to a pile of mush.

Something snags his arm. It's her. He stops and falls off of the other man, heaving as he shakily wipes his face with his bloodied knuckles. She keeps a hold of him.

"Please, don't do anymore," she pleads.

He looks at her. The bow of her lips is traced in her own blood. He snarls and closes his fist again. A few more hits and he'll dislocated his ring finger. He doesn't care.

He gets to his knees as the other man snivels and scrambles over the floor. She tugs his back.

"No," she uses all her weight to hold him back. He lets her. "Who--" she pauses and looks at the book near his foot. His lips part. How does he explain this?

"I'm sorry," his hand shakes as he lets it open, resting it over his knees. "He hurt you--"

"How... how..." she babbles.

The man approaches and Curtis is quick. He moves between them. He deflects the man's weak punch and shoves him so he sprawls.

"It doesn't matter how," he snarls as he reaches behind him, clasping onto her wrist. "You're leaving. Now."

[fixated-cookies]

Ngl I saw the aphrodisiac and I can't help but brainstorm a whole thing:

Imagine a reader who is the poison tester because they are resistant to poisons...affogato slips em the aphrodisiac and reader is able to hold themselves, kinda...and at first affogato is surprised it had so little effect...until the night where reader goes to their room and starts trying to satisfy themselves but affogato just 'happens' to walk in...reader, ofcourse, acts embarrassed and apologies for such an awkward situation....until affogato offers his 'services' *cough cough* his face *cough cough* to help them satisfy themselves....and that's when reader learns how much affogato likes em inadvertently...how? Simple, he makes sure every orgasm is satisfying...not too fast, not to slow, just orgasm sent from heaven to orgasm sent from heaven...

Basically, the hc here is if he loves someone, and he does this to em...he would treat em like royalty during the eat-out...possibly as a way to...show his feelings. Not too fast, not to slow, and he would just KNOW how to please you exactly because he did his...research. Fan of normal eating out? Ofcourse, he can pull so many moves he already knows you'll love! Secretly fantasize about being edged like crazy while being eaten out? Let him show you he is the perfect lover to do that to you and keep you on the edge for as long as it is pleasurable and comfortable for you and what you wanted...this man knows EXACTLY went to finally give you that orgasm and stop. Fan of overstimulation? Oh he's more than happy to give you orgasm sent straight from your fantasies after orgasm sent from your fantasies...and again, master at knowing limits. He'd still make you have a safe word juuuuust incase there are factors he doesn't know about that could influence how much you want.

Happy bonus hc for ya, because I like your stuff so much: he is the king-no-god of aftercare! Even if it's your first time and don't know what would be good after care or what you want as aftercare, affogato got ya! Nervous because you don't know how to deal with post-sex numb legs? Let him gladly help you with that, dear. Feeling thirsty? Already has your favorite drink on standby. Hungry? Favorite food, standby. Feel extremely drained? Oh he already has a bath waiting for you to both help you feel relaxed and clean....and when you get out of the bath, he is ready to give you a massage. The type to fall asleep right after sex? That's OK, he will hold you while you sleep and you'll wake up to the aftercare being prepared in the morning.

Sorry if I went a little too crazy.

oooh gossip! Affogato would absolutely revel in the irony of it all. The way he thought his little concoction had barely worked, only to find out later that it had been simmering under the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to bloom. I assume he would be disappointed at first, awww. And, of course, he "just so happens" to be there, watching the reader struggle in vain. That feigned surprise, the sly amusement dancing in his cream eyes—he’d offer his assistance so sweetly, so gently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

MDNI

Perhaps you can feel the heat crawling underneath your skin, your fingers covered in your own fluid and juices but you're still so insatiable. The door creaks open, and there stands Affogato, his expression unreadable at first—until his lips curl into that all-too-familiar smirk.

"My, my… what do we have here?"

The reader jolts upright, scrambling to cover themselves, their breath hitching in sheer panic. "A-Affogato?! I—I wasn’t—this isn’t—!"

The air is thick with something electric, something inevitable.

And when he kneels before them, his hands resting on their trembling thighs, his voice dips into something softer, sweeter.

"No need to be shy now… let me help you."

And that’s when the reader realizes—this isn't just about repayment or amusement. No, no… Affogato enjoys this far too much. The way he takes his time, never rushing, never overwhelming, drawing it out so that each wave of pleasure leaves you craving more from his tongue. He'd probably end up becoming addicted in his own way. drawing out precious moans and whines while his hands hold you onto the mattress. He just can't get enough.

He drags it out, savoring their reactions, never rushing—because this isn’t just about pleasure. No, this is his way of showing them just how much they mean to him. If you want he'll suck your clit gently, or if you'd prefer he can devour you like a ravenous creature instead. I think he'd be so mouthy like this, constantly teasing you with his touches and lips. Do you think he'll make you sit on his face? hooking his hands onto your thighs so you can't do anything but take it?

I totally agree with your after care headcanons as well.

Now he gets to spoil you.

The moment it's over, he's already moving, ensuring you're not left wanting for anything. A chilled glass of your favorite drink is placed in your hands before you can even ask. If you’re feeling too weak to sit up, he’ll simply guide it to your lips himself, murmuring praises all the while. And oh, the bath. Steaming, infused with the perfect blend of soothing herbs and oils—because of course, he anticipated this. If you hesitate, too shy or embarrassed to let him see you so vulnerable, he simply smiles, tilting his head. "Now, now… There's no need to be modest. I’ve already seen everything, haven’t I?"

--

alalalala just thinking about beautiful man lalala...

[gothamsmom]

I heard your prayers, my child, and i answered <3

Honey Bear and Lovebird

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Bernard muttered, adjusting his headset as he stared at the three monitors Bruce had reluctantly allowed Tim to set up in his apartment. "This is absolutely insane."

"You love it," Tim's voice crackled through the comm, the sound of wind rushing past indicating he was mid-swing between buildings.

Bernard rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "The police scanner shows activity two blocks east of your position. Robbery in progress."

"On it," Tim replied, and Bernard could hear the smile in his voice. "Thanks, Honey Bear."

"Don't call me that when you're punching people," Bernard groaned, but the warmth in his chest betrayed his true feelings about the nickname.

"Aw, you love it," Tim teased before the distinct sound of his boots hitting concrete came through the speaker. "Three suspects, all armed. Standard Tuesday night."

Bernard's fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up building schematics. "There's a side entrance on the west wall. Should give you the element of surprise, Lovebird."

The line went silent for a moment, and Bernard worried he'd lost connection until Tim's voice returned, slightly breathless. "Did you just call me Lovebird?"

"Focus on the bad guys, not on what I'm calling you," Bernard replied, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Oh, I'm focusing, but I'm definitely coming back to that later," Tim said, and Bernard could practically hear the smirk.

For the next several minutes, Bernard listened intently to the sounds of combat—the swift movements, the grunts of exertion, the occasional quip Tim threw at his opponents. Despite having done this for weeks now, Bernard's heart still raced, his grip on the edge of the desk tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

"All clear," Tim finally announced. "GCPD's on their way. No casualties, no serious injuries."

Bernard released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Good job, Lovebird."

"So it's sticking, huh?" Tim laughed, and this time it was light, carefree in a way Tim Drake rarely allowed himself to be.

"You started it with the Honey Bear business," Bernard countered, leaning back in his chair.

"Fair enough," Tim conceded. "I'm heading to check out that suspicious activity near the docks you flagged earlier."

"Be careful," Bernard said, the words automatic now, a quiet ritual between them.

"Always am," Tim replied, another part of their dance.

Bernard pulled up the harbor cameras, squinting at the grainy footage. "Looks like potential Penguin associates. Shipment coming in that isn't on any official manifest."

"My favorite kind of shipment," Tim said cheerfully. "Talk me through it, Honey Bear."

"With pleasure, Lovebird," Bernard replied, settling in for what promised to be a long night.

The next morning, Bernard awoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of quiet typing. He blinked blearily, realizing he'd fallen asleep at the monitors. Someone—Tim, obviously—had draped a blanket over his shoulders.

"Morning, Honey Bear," Tim said without looking up from his laptop, his hair tousled and a bruise blooming on his cheekbone.

Bernard yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Morning, Lovebird. Successful night?"

Tim's smile was tired but genuine. "Very. Penguin's going to be missing about three million dollars worth of stolen tech. And I couldn't have done it without you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Bernard mumbled, accepting the coffee Tim slid across the desk to him.

"It's not flattery if it's true," Tim replied, finally looking up from his screen. "You're getting good at this."

Bernard took a sip of his coffee—prepared exactly how he liked it, because Tim Drake was nothing if not observant. "We make a good team."

"The best," Tim agreed, reaching across to squeeze Bernard's hand. "Honey Bear and Lovebird, taking Gotham by storm."

Bernard laughed, twining his fingers with Tim's. "God help us all."

Bernard becoming like Tim's version of the guy in the chair while he's fighting crime and over comms Tim calls Bernard Honey Bear and Bernard calls Tim Lovebird 🥰

[ddejavvu]

hi mei!! i absolutely adore your writing, you're amazing!!

could i ask you to write for reader who's touch starved and really wants a tight hug from remus, but doesn't dare ask for it for fear of being too clingy?

i am so sorry if you've written this before, i binge-read your entire masterlist a little while back but my memory is also Very Bad-

"The quiet one's brooding again."

You glance up from your notebook to meet Sirius's squinted eyes, his brows slanted at you where you sit trying to focus on your work. You're not brooding, you're just not smiling. He kicks at you beneath the table, "What's'a matter, grumpy, your essay not long enough?"

"It's fine." You grumble, "I'm just having trouble editing."

"It's late." James scrubs a hand over his face, nearly tugging his glasses out from behind his ears. He lets the hand drag through his hair, nearly wrenching strands out where they've curled into each other, "I'm fading myself."

"I can't sleep until I finish." You groan, and suddenly everything is a bit overwhelming, the press of James's thigh against yours, the way Sirius's foot is still nudging yours beneath the table, the scratch of your sweater against your bare skin.

You vault from your seat, rushing towards the common room fire with staggering steps that probably invoke suspicions of booze from your friends. Finals are stressful, and you're always worried about the looming prospect of The Future, and that's concerning enough if you pass your exams. The thought of failing them and making whatever The Future is worse- well that's what's got your hands trembling. You grasp them together like you're cold, and it helps, but the shake is deeper than your extremities.

"Y/N," Remus calls, and you hear his voice get closer, not louder, as he approaches where you stand at the fire. You stare at the flames as an excuse to not meet his eyes, and they burn your vision, but you can't bring yourself to look away.

"I just need a minute." You squeeze tighter at your own fingers, the touch stinging but calming, "I'm tired and- and I just want to be done with my work and go to bed."

"I can edit." Remus suggests, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder. For all its softness you react like it's an anvil, letting it pile onto the weight already draped over your shoulders like a yoke and nearly falling back into Remus.

"Oh," Is all he manages to say before taking a leap of faith and sliding his hand from your shoulder to your waist, wrapping the other one around your hip to meet it. His hands rest on your stomach and he stands there being warmed by the fire with you, watching the way your hands squeeze each other tighter.

"I wish we could stay in school forever." You manage, your voice cracked and breaking, "I- I'm worried about getting a real job, and paying for housing, and- and never seeing my friends again because I'm too busy working."

"I know. Don't worry, though. You'll have a good shot in the job market, though, and if you're ever in need of a place to stay, you know James's mom will tuck you in like you're hers. You could live on her plastic-wrapped couch for the rest of your life if you had to."

"I couldn't sleep with all the crinkling," You laugh, even though two tears still streak down your cheeks. You sniffle, and your nose scrunches, but your face quickly widens with a yawn, "God, I'm so fucking- tired, I just-"

"Go sleep." Remus urges, squeezing you once and letting go, "I'll proofread your essay, and I'll make sure Sirius doesn't write penis on it again like he did last time."

"As the fucking title," You growl, a forgotten fury now rising once more in your gut, "You know what? I think I can manage to stay awake just long enough to change his name at the top to Sirius Balls without him noticing."

"I'll distract him." Remus promises, throwing a glance back at the man currently ignoring his essay in favor of chattering with James, "Throw in a swear or two for me, yeah?"

"Deal." You let him grab your hand before you depart, and he squeezes it much kinder than you'd squeezed yourself.

"Hey. If you get like that again, you can ask for a hug."

Instantly, you're a little sheepish, but you power through it to nod, "Thanks, Remus."

He nods once, then lets your hand go, "Hey, Sirius, you mind walking down to the kitchens with me to get some more wine from the professors' stash?"

Sirius is on his feet in an instant, plenty of years' experience with not only stealing, but stealing booze, "How many bottles do y'think we can carry?"

"Enough to make sure you don't proofread well." You suggest, grinning coyly, and James turns a blind eye, smirking, when Sirius's quill is in your hand the moment the portrait hole shuts.

[ddejavvu]

ohhh indy indy indy. when i read the bit about my birthday i squealed 'cause that's so kind of you i'm so glad you happened upon skinny boy spence last night <3

the entire two first paragraphs about how he's so easy to underestimate... YES!! but he's a certified genius and he approaches tasks with precision and determination which is a terrible combination for your poor beat up pussy </3

"he can feel the way you’re pulsing around his fingers. It’s the familiar rev that quakes just before a big release, and his knuckles know the tremor intimately. That brain isn’t just used for his job, it’s memorized every part of you—even the parts you thought you weren’t ready to share." i noticed while reading this that you had some really good descriptions of being on the verge of cumming here and this was one i thought was really accurate. add on the note that he's got you memorized like a textbook and i screamed

'the build in your gut is like something’s being taken from you.-' 'three of the longest fingers you’ve ever had inside of you' 'It’s a primal instinct, involuntarily rocking into his ramming in tandem.' hitting me w all three of these sentences back to back is so cruel indy. did you even think about a refractory period?

'He doesn’t miss a beat, following you down to keep battering your soft tissue in just the right curl.' BATTERING. BATTERING!!! HE'S BEATING ME UP!!! (i like it)

'Mesmerized, Spencer watches your poor pussy swallow his hand up. The wet squelching of leftover cream spatters out with every visceral plug, and his tongue forms over his upper lip to keep it busy. Your little clit calls out to him, he can feel it between his lips already. All soft and gooey, puffy and overstimulated, running between his spit-soaked lips as you scream from the two forces working together to make you cum' reading this i had such a hard time figuring out which sentences to pull for the review and please know it was a difficult decision. i was like i can't take the whole paragraph but i might as well have because it was so yummy. him imagining sucking on your clit he's literally fantasizing about it while he's wrist-deep. he's so insatiable <333

'There’s a change, the subtlest of tenses in your abdomen, like the tickle of pepper under a nose to attract a sneeze. You seize up, your cunt clenches down like a vice, and it idles. It’s the suspense at the top of a roller coaster.' these were the other two descriptions that i really liked!! you know how to write smut indy what can i say

'You had no idea there was anything even left in you, and yet Spencer’s patience can simply outlive your doubts, determined to wring every last drop out of you.' THIS this is what i like about him his patience!! he's got all the time in the world and he's not compromising his experiments by rushing them.

the sneak peek i got last night legitimately kept me awake thinking about him. i'm so happy you're here in spencerland with me we're holding hands and jumping up and down in a circle and squealing while thinking about his skinny veiny hands <333

SQUIRTING — s.reid

“ i love how you touch, how you feel, how you breathe / baby, how you do it so good? ” 🪽

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ✉️ | criminal minds. NOTES. never seen one single episode of criminal minds but i did miss my mutual @ddejavvu’s bday last october and wanted to make up for it. WARNINGS. fem reader ノ established relationship ノ potentially ooc spencer ノ fem squirting ノ pussy eating & orgasm mentions ノ vaginal fingering ノ explicit sexual content ノ praise kink (f receiving) ノ squirt obsessed spencer ノ lowkey unedited.

Don’t be fooled by SPENCER REID’s calm demeanor and harmless facade. Don’t get caught up in that little smile he does when he has nothing further to say, or the way his fluffy hair flops over his forehead when he inclines down to lend you an ear to hear you better. Don’t let your guard down when he info dumps his latest fascination, having traversed the rabbit hole of complex animal mating cycles or the latest scientific observation of quarks. Dr. Reid is no one to be underestimated.

You should’ve known better than to think of him as disarming and therefore “harmless.” It’s the first time in a long time that you’ve been so wrapped up in a guy, coming up for air rarely while you’re practically living at his place. Your clothes are strewn about his apartment, your favorite shampoo is in his shower, he bought you your own toothbrush to keep on your shelf in his medicine cabinet. Oh, it’s bad. There’s no turning back now. You’re completely and utterly helpless. If you could go back in time to warn your past self of the madness you’re about to endure…

“C’mon, baby, one more. Can’t you do one more?” it’s a plea devoid of any doubt, he can feel the way you’re pulsing around his fingers. It’s the familiar rev that quakes just before a big release, and his knuckles know the tremor intimately. That brain isn’t just used for his job, it’s memorized every part of you—even the parts you thought you weren’t ready to share.

You writhe, desperately nuzzling the back of your head into the mattress, heating up from the friction. Gritting your teeth, your body feels like it’s on fire, and the build in your gut is like something’s being taken from you. It’s a merciless pace completed by three of the longest fingers you’ve ever had inside of you, bullying your insides relentlessly prodding that spongy spot to chase a most coveted reaction. Your muscles contract and stretch, lifting your pelvis from the pillow he set it on like it’s demanding more. It’s a primal instinct, involuntarily rocking into his ramming in tandem. Your eyes squeeze shut from the pain of it, and yet you can’t stop.

“I can’t do it- I can’t do it, Spenc—ah!” you interrupt your own rebuke, your nails clawing into the purchase of the sheets as your spine goes limp. He doesn’t miss a beat, following you down to keep battering your soft tissue in just the right curl. Your tailbone has collapsed back onto the puddle of wetness, it’s cold to the touch, but you can’t even focus on how jarring the difference in temperature is right now.

You breathe like you’re readying for something, you pant like you’re in danger. Your chest rises and falls with rapid puffs of air, a sheen of sweat coating your skin—you can’t take this anymore.

Mesmerized, Spencer watches your poor pussy swallow his hand up. The wet squelching of leftover cream spatters out with every visceral plug, and his tongue forms over his upper lip to keep it busy. Your little clit calls out to him, he can feel it between his lips already. All soft and gooey, puffy and overstimulated, running between his spit-soaked lips as you scream from the two forces working together to make you cum. Not this time, he thinks, it’s not that kind of thing this time. His other hand grasps his cramping wrist, using it to cram into you faster, those three fingers forming a cone inside you to stroke the tips against the roof of you, and you cry out.

You reach for him, you try to grip anything you can, anything to get him to let up—to get him to stop. Mercy, you want. “You can, sweetheart, you can. I know it.” Sweat beads his forehead as he consoles you, letting you howl it out until he’s satisfied.

Miraculously, you manage to focus your efforts on one task. You lift your head, the prettiest and most pitiful upturn in your brows silently beckons him. It’s a silent request regardless of the noises whimpering out of your nose, you sound like a whining puppy while you make grabby hands at him. He knows what you want. Carefully, he adjusts so as to not upset the angle of his entry, but honoring your wish. Ignoring the burn of effort in his shoulder, he lays his head on your chest, and your legs suspended on either side of him bob from how hard he’s still fingering you. Your arms encase him, holding him close, clutching on for dear life as he finally tips you over that edge. There’s a change, the subtlest of tenses in your abdomen, like the tickle of pepper under a nose to attract a sneeze. You seize up, your cunt clenches down like a vice, and it idles. It’s the suspense at the top of a roller coaster.

“Oh, yeah… Oh, yeah, baby. That’s it. That’s it, uh-huh.” It’s a babble you can barely hear over the roaring in your ears, finally gushing out a hot spray. Your pussy becomes a fountain, squirting a mile high like you’ve been holding it in this whole time. It comes from deep within you, a secret stream only he can lovingly coax out. You had no idea there was anything even left in you, and yet Spencer’s patience can simply outlive your doubts, determined to wring every last drop out of you.

You can’t open your eyes, you can’t stop the earthquake in your legs, and your claws dig into his scalp. The noises you make are matched by him, groaning in maddened relief and joy at what he’s accomplished. It gets everywhere, drenching the front of his clothes as it pours down. The bed frame and the carpet and the furniture behind him are rained on, and there’s not a single thought in his mind of regret. Your abdomen flexes, pushing out every wave in pulses until it fizzles out. His hand slows, your breathing evens out, and your locked up body begins to relax muscle by muscle. He peels himself out of your hold, your limp limbs unable to put up any fight to keep him cuddled up on you. Lazily, your head lulls in his direction, eyes peering at him reverently stroke his palms over your puddle on the bed. All the releases he took from you perfectly layered on his navy blue sheets. His slack jaw encapsulates his awe at his handiwork, meeting your gaze with a brazen emotion nothing short of pride.

@HANASNX 2025 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[alygator77]

Hello!! I've been following and loving your works since the first chapter of Matrimony and Motherhood, I'm super appreciative of the works you put out and I'm excited to read the full fic of supermodel Gojo whenever you put it out (please take your time btw, this isn't an ask to get you to rush or anything).

My main question is related to clanhead Gojo and the mentions of infidelity tag! I cannot for the life of me do cheating if it involves one of the main couple cheating on the other. So if it's okay to ask, is that gonna happen or has happened before I start reading? I understand if you're not comfortable answering that yet. Thank you for the fics you put out, I will continue to eat every word up. You are so gifted with writing!!!

hi lovely anon 💕

thank you for this ask, you are so sweet 😭 it means a lot to know you've been following me for that long and that you're excited for supermodel 🥰 and tysm for being patient with updates, it means a lot 🥹

so regarding the infidelity, readers father cheats on her mother. infidelity is mentioned in part 1 and will be something that will be brought up later down the line. regarding satoru x reader, satoru will struggle with urges to be unfaithful HOWEVER, i am not going to have him ACTUALLY commit the act. IF i change my mind and do decide to have him do anything unfaithful, it would prob just be him kissing a girl and he'd get pissed off that he can't get hard lol. i myself cannot handle cheating either, the one and ONLY cheating fic i have read is @madamechrissy's silent serenades (which is incredible btw. chrissy ily. your fic is the only jab at a cheating trope i'll ever read).

hopefully that answered your question! there will be angst in this fic, but my goal is to not make satoru irredeemable. he's struggling with his own issues, and he's not perfect. he will become less selfish down the line.

tysm for reading my fics and following my blog 🫶🏻

-aly💕

[puriiinz]

POSTED | smau abby a.

I; SWEET & EASY

masterlist | next

##FROM! YN

as usual, dina made me get ready in a few minutes. she, sadly, doesn't have the tendency to let me know an hour earlier if we're hanging out- or if they're dragging me along to wherever they're going that day. don't get me wrong, i love her with my whole heart but let a girl get ready without a rush please.

as i was locking my door i heard ellie's car pulling up, quickly putting my shoes on, i got out and got in the car.

"hiiii yn..."

"dina please, you're not cute."

"aww don't be mad! we're going to have so much fun today, i swear."

"ugh you know i can't be mad at you for long..."

"love you too!"

"sure..."

ellie began to drive and i started to listen to my own playlist (because ellie doesn't let anyone else touch the aux) and as i looked out the window i realized we were somewhere i've never been before. but i figured we were going to a new mall or something.

when we stopped ellie gestured me to take off my earphones,

"are you ready to make a new friend today yn?" ellie asked while giving me a very... nice smile.

"um.. sure..?"

"great! hi abby."

as she said hi, the door opened and a blonde girl sat next to me- and oh wow...

"hi, sorry if it was quite a drive.."

dina quickly shushed her, leaning back from her seat in an attempt to hug the girl and told her "no problem"

"so abby, this is our dear friend yn; and yn, this is my friend from high school. and she met ellie through her mom."

the girl- abby looked at me as dina was talking. she looked so awkward and her eyes were intense. and she was buff. like grrr, you know?

"hi abby," i smiled "you look very nice."

"oh," she looked flustered "thank you yn, you look pretty cute."

i smiled as a thank you and leaned back, as ellie started the car dina began to talk about something i didn't pay attention to and abby was... doing the same thing as me i guess? looking at her made me feel awkward.

as the car stopped for the second time ellie got out and opened my door, such a gentleman, just to hand me her camera.

i raised my brows, "really?"

she pouted a little "come on, please? you know you're good at managing the camera settings."

i just sighed and began tweaking the cameras settings. we couldn't find a way to make them stay that way permanently so it was my job every time, but it was okay. it made me feel useful.

as we started walking i looked up to see an arcade-but-like-not-really??? i figured we were here just for content.

i gave ellie the camera as she requested to be the cameraman for today, "not in the mood for talking" she said. i wandered off, looking for anything interesting to play with, when i saw my holy grail; the air hockey.

as i was running towards the hockey table abby came out of nowhere, making me stop suddenly.

"you sure you want to play that? no one's beaten me before..." she had a look of fake sadness, it was like she wanted me to beat her.

so i did.

maybe,

almost...

"oh come on! you can't just protect the goal openings, playing a game includes moving. not standing still."

my protest just made abby laugh, "oh i'm sorry- did your father invent air hockey with you beside him?"

it was when dina started laughing i realized that they had our entire match on camera. i was so into the game that i didn't even feel their presence.

"well- actually i can't think of anything witty to say..." this made abby snort. fucking snort. just as i was about to flip abby off, ellie turned the camera to me.

she cleared her throat, "and this, ladies, is the face of a fucking loser."

all i could do was stare at her as she laughed because sadly the purge isn't a real thing.

[alacants]

I just feel like we've been "waiting and seeing how the next few months" go for... a very long time now. I get you're particularly interested in JCF but I didn't particularly mean to make this about him - I have no real opinion on whether he should stay, I think Carlos just needs another perspective. And I don't really count Lopez as another perspective when Carlos has said his favorite thing about having two coaches is that they tell him exactly the same thing lol.

I also don't think it's very accurate to paint this as six months of middling results - really it's been about twenty months of middling results with a great two month stretch thrown in there (and the padding best of five gives him). But the bigger problem than results is what we're seeing from his actual tennis? There's been no statistical improvement on his first serve since he changed it & his second serve has fallen off sharply this year but - okay, changing your serve takes a long time and he isn't naturally good at it, I feel fine about that.

It's the other stuff. His backhand - bizarre. He claims he changed it himself without consulting his team but he's just... kept it even when he's spraying UFEs and the mechanics of it are quite clearly terrible. His returns - second serve return is a growing mess, almost singlehandedly cost him both the last matches with Djokovic. Footwork - has regressed, he was sliding all over the court trying to reach balls at Doha & it's not a fast court at all. All of these things were better in 2023 & there've been no noticeable improvements in the rest of his game since then either. Your game stays the same - you get figured out. If Sinner started playing as tactically against him as Djokovic does (deuce serves out wide, eating up his kick serve, rushing the forehand) he'd stop losing those matches. You can even see people like Machac & Lehecka & Botic trying it.

More than that, though, it's his mentality. His level of tennis is still high enough to win a lot of these matches he loses, if he'd only start clutching things out. But he doesn't. I honestly don't see 2025 Carlos winning that 2023 Wimbledon final after being breadsticked in the first set. Ever notice how many of these recent losses involve him being breadsticked in the first set by the way? Ruud, Botic, Humbert, Draper... he can't recover from it. Even when he bagelled Draper in the second, he couldn't recover from it. And there's no reason stuff like Djokovic's MTO or those dodgy VAR calls against Draper should throw him off as much as it does - he loses breaks and whole sets because he gets distracted by that shit and, again, can't recover. His most impressive win this season to date is a competitive three-set with de Minaur. He's crumbling in the bigger matches.

And yes I agree with you, there's something to be said about the transition from being the prodigy fucking up the tour to handling the pressure of being the established gatekeeper. I don't think he's figured out how to handle it at all. He still wants to be that teen who's wrecking everyone. It all leads me think he needs more regular contact with a psychologist than a woman in Barcelona who he calls on Zoom every few months.

Just... a lot of issues which are trending towards getting worse & there's no sign he's thinking of resolving any of them, which is my real issue. The random losses started on indoor hard, okay, that's understandable, and now he's having them in... Indian Wells? The one hard court tournament on tour all year which actually suits him? A 500 and a bunch of QFs in the bigger tournaments (by the way, he has a 50% conversion rate in QFs over the last year - lol) are lovely if you're Arthur Fils. It shouldn't be enough for someone with Alcaraz's talent who talks the way Alcaraz does about what he expects for himself. And yeah, it's obviously fine to have a slump. Djokovic had that slump in 09/10 when he fucked up his serve and he fixed it. Any other number of examples. But to have a slump and show no signs of recognising/fixing any of the underlying causes is worrying.

lmao it's funny that i actually didn't think your original ask was about juanki until the end of the message! (influenced, i'm sure, by how i've received numerous asks on this topic lol.) fatal communication error. so okay, let's set that aside!

i agree carlos needs new perspectives, i agree lopez doesn't really count, i agree that the biggest problem is in his head and that to play regularly at the level he is capable of he needs to address that stat. (we may not agree about the specifics of how to characterize his recent record but i certainly understand the argument you're making.)

but i'm still gonna say i want to see what happens because... i want to see what happens. you've put your finger on it with the question of what carlos thinks, or realizes, about his state of play. the thing is that i find that compelling too. how does he get out of this. DOES he get out of this.

when i say he's 21 i don't mean he's young so we should excuse every loss or disappointment--i mean there is so much time ahead of him that i just can't bring myself to get that concerned over whether or not this is a minor slump or a major slump. there is SO much time ahead. like maybe he'll turn the corner before the end of the season or maybe it will take years and he'll have to learn the hard way. or maybe it will never happen and he'll be one of the sport's great what-ifs! obviously i HOPE it's not the last one but even if it is i will still be watching on the edge of my seat. because it's exactly that uncertainty that makes watching a great talent at a young age so uniquely compelling.

[violetsareblue-selfships]

Metal Bouquet

F/O: Sevika | Word Count: 1315 // hehe wrote this last night and i'm too eager to share so here ^^ like a direct follow-up to that last fic ^^ anyways i hope you enjoy it <3 // also I've linked the song my s/i plays on the jukebox if anyone wants to listen

Building up the courage takes a while. Weeks, maybe even months. All through it, April endures Jinx's teasing that she can't even ask a girl out, but she takes it as a good sign. If Jinx didn't approve of the potential relationship, she certainly wouldn't be teasing about it, right?

She starts slow: asking Sevika to stay a little longer any time she comes over for repairs or to pick Jinx up from April's shop, going to the Last Drop specifically when she suspects that Sevika will be there so they can chat more, and buying her the occasional drink when they're out together.

Yet every time she thinks she's gathered the nerve, her brain goes all fuzzy when their eyes meet and the moment's lost.

Her inability to think around the older woman leads her to seek out a different form of confession. She toys with the idea of a letter for a little while. It'd be easy. Writing her feelings down has always been easier than speaking them aloud, yet Sevika would recognize her handwriting, she's sure.

And she's not ready to reveal that she's been Sevika's secret admirer just yet. She'll save that for Sevika's next birthday, so the gift will (hopefully) be the last as just an admirer and the first as her girlfriend.

Flowers would be a sweet idea, but the air of the undercity isn't quite clean enough yet for those (she's sure even a bouquet wouldn't fare well anywhere but topside).

It's only while sifting through some metal scraps she's been tempted to give to Jinx that she gets the idea to make her something.

She works on it between her usual repairs and commissions, feeling a bit cheesy that she's crafting flowers out of metal. She doesn't even know what Sevika's favorites are much less if she has a favorite flower, so April sticks to roses with a few lilies thrown in.

As soon as the fake flowers are crafted and painted to her liking, she bundles them up with a bit of twine, resisting the urge to rush out at that very second to find Sevika.

It's a few days before she leaves her shop with the metal flowers tucked carefully in her arms. It's early enough in the day that the Last Drop should be mostly empty. She'd really prefer to not have other eyes on her for this…

Her eyes land on Sevika the instant she steps inside, the sight of her bringing both relief that she doesn't have to do this another day and nerves that this is it. The nerves cause her to loiter a little, heading over to the jukebox and setting it to play a song that's always calmed her nerves.

Though, as the familiar intro blares, she realizes just how cheesy it is for this music to be the background for her confession.

Sevika turns as the music changes, raising her eyebrow curiously at April. "What? Can't a girl be in the mood for a familiar song?" April asks, a sheepish look in her eyes.

Sevika snorts, blowing a puff on her cigar before pulling it away from her mouth. "Sure." Sevika leans back in her chair, her eyes slowly appraising April's form from head to toe. "What has you all dolled up? You look like you're asking for trouble," Sevika murmurs, her lips quirking up in a teasing smirk.

April giggles nervously, resisting the urge to fidget with her hair or the metal stems in her hands. Instead, she slowly approaches Sevika. "Maybe I am," She murmurs, exhaling sharply through her nose to quickly get rid of her nerves. Then her hand extends the flowers to Sevika, her heart rate skyrocketing as she waits.

Sevika's eyes widen, all traces of her teasing dropping. For a moment she just stares at the flowers before cautiously reaching to take them from April, her fingers almost trembling as she makes contact with the metal. Her eyes are full of question when they meet April's again.

"I like you, Sevika," April says softly, looking anywhere but those pretty grey eyes that will shut off her ability to speak. "I couldn't figure out any other way to tell you. Janna, you get me so damn tongue-tied, you know that?

Real flowers would just wilt down here, so I figured these are the next best thing, right?" April says, fully aware that she's starting to ramble. "Sorry, I didn't know your favorites, so I went with a mix of mine."

She seems like she's about to continue on, but the soft sound of Sevika's laughter cuts her off. Her heart jumps at the sound until she recognizes that it's soft, warm, fond laughter, not anything mocking.

"You're too cute," Sevika murmurs. "These are beautiful. They must have taken quite a bit of work to make."

"I-I mean not really? I barely noticed the time passing…" April murmurs, scratching the back of her neck so endearingly that Sevika has the urge to tug her down into a kiss.

"Mm-hmm." Sevika idly fiddles with one of the petals on the stem. She should be astonished at how detailed the flowers are down to the roses having little metallic thorns, but she knows the amount of detail April puts into her work.

Her eyes raise back up to April's, and she chuckles at the sight. April's still not looking at her, but she's restlessly fidgeting with her fingers. "Aren't you going to look at me?" Sevika asks. "I do have an answer for you, but I'd prefer you look at me when I say it."

April immediately looks at her, and her nervous expression has Sevika softening. "I like you too."

"You do?" April asks softly, taking a hesitant step closer. Some of her nerves dissipate when Sevika shifts the flowers to her metallic hand so that her human one can take one of April's.

"I do." She gently squeezes April's hand, a little amused at how much smaller her hand is.

"Then… you'll go out with me?" April asks. "We don't even have to go out. You could come over and I could make you dinner." Just date me. Be mine…

"That sounds nice." Sevika gently tugs her a little closer. "Just let me know when, sweetheart." She smiles at the faint blush that takes over April's face at that.

"I mean… we could… tonight?" April says.

"Mm, eager, aren't we?" Sevika teases, chuckling as it makes April's blush grow darker.

"'vika… I've been wanting to go on a date with you for years at this point. Yes, I'm eager." It's embarrassing to admit it, but the way it makes Sevika blink at her is worth it.

Sevika mouths the word 'years,' so many things slotting into place at that realization. All those times that their eyes met and April shyly looked away from her… "Right," She says, the word coming out a little strangled. "Tonight works."

"Cool," April says, giggling in the cutest way that has Sevika's heart clenching. She's going to have Sevika wrapped around her little finger soon if she doesn't already… "I'll go get ready for that then. Any preference for dinner?"

Sevika manages a laugh at that. "It'll be your cooking. That's enough for me."

April giggles again and nods. "Great! See you tonight, 'vika," She says softly, a mischievous look crossing her face for a moment before she dips her head down to kiss the top of Sevika's head, a feat only managed by the fact she's still standing while Sevika's sitting down.

"See you," Sevika murmurs, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting go. April heads toward the door, pausing to blow a kiss at her shyly before ducking outside again.

That only confirms that she's done for. If her heart weren't already April's, that flirtatious little move would have done it.

Gods, she can't wait for tonight…