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shadowbriar · 3 days ago

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Bob Reynolds — Catalyst

Pairing : Robert "Bob" Reynolds x (she/her) doctor!Reader Word Count : a lot, idk how many exactly cause I'm drafting this on my phone. Warning : Thunderbolts spoilers. Sets during Bob's Project Sentry era. Mentions of medical procedures. Not proofread cause I'm doing this on my phone. Synopsis : For once, he actually let himself grow comfortable in the gentleness of another. Notes : we love Bob, Bob deserves the world. I kinda want to make this a mini series but idk how the plot should go. I'm open for ideas if you have any suggestions! also, please donate to my kofi so I can get a new laptop and write properly cause drafting though phone is hell, i tell you.

"Breath in for me,"

Bob tries to control his breathing as her gloved hands sneak under his pyjamas. His eyes were everywhere, but her, trying to distract his mind from how the close proximity has made him able to get a whiff of her faint perfume, or see the pendant of her necklace dangling as she leans a little to put the stethoscope on his chest.

"Your heartbeat is peaking," she highlights as the heart monitor beeped a little louder "Are you feeling any pain?"

"No, I'm just startled from the cold metal," he lies through his teeth.

Her brows were still furrowed once she stepped away from him, making notes of his monitor on her pad, "It looks like you're having frequent rise of heartbeat, especially whenever I try to listen to your insides. Are you sure you're feeling okay, Bob?"

He nods, unable to say any word.

"No headaches? Heartburn? Pain anywhere?"

"No," he says in a tiny voice "I'm feeling great,"

"Okay, let me see your eyes then," she says before placing her hands to his jaws. Her thumbs pulling the skin under his eyes a little to see if there's any foul colour on it. Bob's fingers were now gripping the thin sheet of his bed tightly as he tried to calm his nerves. The heart monitor is once again betraying him as it beeps more frequently, erratic to the point that it worries her "Your heart is beating so fast, are you sure you're feeling okay, Bob?"

She places her hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart. Her face was filled with worry now, as the beads of sweat on Bob's forehead started to fall. Colour was starting to fade from his face, as well. He was turning pale.

"I'm nervous," he confessed shyly, taking a small gulp.

"Of what?"

You, he wanted to say, but he knew that it would be too inappropriate to utter. He was one of the many patients she's taking care of, one of the many test subjects for the project, and though he wants to believe that she's treating him a little kinder than the others for the same sentiment he hoards for her, he knew that at the end of the day, she was only doing her job and what matters for her was the drugs' progression, not him as a person.

"What if it doesn't work? Will you kick me out of the lab?" Bob asks instead.

The corners of her lips curled upwards, smiling to him as she takes a seat on the edge of his bed, "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Bob shakes his head.

"You're my friend, Bob. Where ever these drugs would lead us to, I will always take care of you, I can promise you that," she reassures, giving the most gentle squeeze on his arm as she continues "I will never, ever, let anything bad happen to you, okay? You're my favourite person in this whole lab and I would never let anything hurt you. But in order to do that, you need to help me out a little. You need to tell me if you feel any pain or anything strange, really, so I can help you and stop it from happening again,"

"I'm not feeling any pain," he says with eyes glued on hers "I promise,"

Her eyes scanned for any trace of lies on his face before nodding, smiling in understanding, "Okay, then, let's get back to those beautiful blue eyes of yours. Try to relax, okay?"

Bob nodded like an obedient little kid. This time the heart monitor didn't beep as frequently when she places her hands back to his face. The grip he has on the sheet have loosened, and his breathing has gone more at eased. For once, he actually let himself grow comfortable in the gentleness of another.

"Your pupils are a little dilated," she noticed as they stare into each other's eyes "Perhaps because of your nerves, but we'll still put that in the chart for future references, okay?"

Bob nods, "So, everything else is good?"

"Yup, so far so good," she answers with a nod, putting her pad down "I'm not supposed to share this, but you're our strongest subject and I'd like to think that it's because you and I are more than just doctor and patient. We're friends,"

His smile grows, still timid but it's brighter than she's ever seen before.

"You look really cute when you smile. You should do it more often," she compliments.

The rouge on his cheeks bloom. Bob looks away, trying his best to hide his bashful face from her. The long strands of his hair falls to his eyes, but he knew that it wouldn't be enough to hide just how red his whole face is.

Noticing his embarrassed self, she smiles to herself and stood from his bed, "Well, I'll leave you to rest then,"

"Wait," Bob calls before she could leave the room "How much longer do I have to stay here?"

"I'm not sure, Bob. We're still monitoring everyone and you still have that rising heartbeat issue that we need to take care of," she notes, placing her hands in the pocket of her coat "Why, do you have anywhere else you need to be?"

"No, I just— I'd like to see the city," he answers, that very uncertainty returning to his voice again "I was wondering if you could show me around, cause I didn't have much time to wander before admitting to the lab,"

"Oh," she notes, a little surprised to hear his vulnerable reasoning. With silent steps, she walks closer to him again, smiling as she proposes, "Well, I haven't done much wander myself because we have a lot of things to do here, but.. Why don't we try to get you back in shape as soon as possible, and then we can start our little adventure throughout the city?"

Bob's heart swells in his chest. He was never this happy, never this optimistic about life, and the promise of having something to look forward to. He flew himself to South-East Asia to try on new drugs without a care of how it might affect him because truly, no one ever cared. His mission was just to see this new drug and try it himself, bonus point if he doesn't die in the process. But now that he's met her, now that he's felt how good it is to have someone who cares for him, Bob wonders if he should let himself hope for tomorrow.

"Bob?" she calls softly, snapping him out of his thoughts "Would you like that?"

He nods eagerly, grinning, "I'd love that, yes,"

"Okay, well, it's a date, then,"

—-

Being a doctor for a human test laboratory is certainly different than working for hospitals. Most days, she finds it hard to still call herself "human" after all the experiment she's seen before her very eyes. People would go to extreme lengths just to prove something, disposing of other innocent souls as a cost they're willing to pay.

She's considered to free herself from such occupation. Rebuild a life that is more mundane and ordinary, perhaps to move back to her hometown and build a small clinic there, but if she wasn't here, who would fight for a humane treatment for these poor subjects? Who would spare their own personal time to do research for the new batches of the serums, making and taking more samples before actually injecting them to human beings, if not for her?

"We lost subject SE-37 this morning," Dr. Houston says as they have their morning meeting "It's such a shame, because she was showing great progress up until yesterday,"

"Her name was Grace," she seethe on her seat "Stop calling these people with their serum labels, they have names,"

The rest of the doctors remained quiet, watching her with conflicted expression.

"This is our seventh loss this week," she continues with a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples from the stress "We have more casualty than progress, we have to stop the research for now,"

"But Valentina—,"

"I don't care what Valentina says. She's not here, alright?! She doesn't see these patients wither and die before her own eyes. We're the ones who do, and as much as all of you hate to admit it, I know that it's taking a toll on us. It would be unwise to continue this without a clear and steady head, so we're putting a halt to this project,"

"Until when?" one of them asked.

"Until we know exactly what it is that is failing our patients and found a way to fix it,"

The rest of the doctors shuffled away from the room as they figured their meeting has come to a bitter end. This wouldn't be the first sour argument they witnessed between Dr. Houston and her. She might be the smartest and most brilliant doctor OXE Group has ever employed, but her benevolence often times came first before her duty to the company. That's why Valentina appointed Dr. Houston as her co-chief of research. Houston might not be as smart, but he's experienced and she respects him just enough to not jeopardise the research whenever things went south.

Exactly like how things are looking like right now.

"You're a bright kid," Houston starts when it was just the two of them left in the room "You and Valentina can do great things together, but this compassion.. It's misplaced, right now,"

"Yeah, and who am I supposed to feel more sympathy for? Valentina, because she's lost billions of dollars from this research?" she scoffs "I don't think it's my compassion that is misplaced here—it's your loyalty. You're a doctor, you're sworn to protect your patients,"

"I'm a citizen of this planet first before a doctor, and what we need most now is a protector," Houston argues, his face stern and unwavering "If Project Sentry fails, then we've failed everyone on this planet, not just those we've lost during this research,"

She remained quiet, looking back at him with the same resolute expression.

"We'll take a week of break from taking new patients. Let the doctors calm down as you said, and then we'll start a whole new batch,"

"But—,"

"No buts, I'm trying to save all of our heads here, Kid," Houston cuts in "Now go do your rounds, I'm sure your patients are waiting,"

"Patient, I only have one left," she corrected bitterly.

Dr. Houston kept his silence as she walked out of the room. It was a hard sight for him as well, to see the light dimming out of her this way. Had she worked for a hospital or some ordinary vaccine lab, she would've thrived and helped so many people by now, but OXE Group needs her. If Project Sentry was to ever success, it would need her wit and cleverness, or else they wouldn't even stand a chance on developing anything before the threat comes terrorising the Earth.

—-

"Good morning," Bob greets as she enters his room, his smile wide and blinding "I was wondering where you were,"

"I'm sorry, we had a late running meeting for the doctors," she apologises, sitting on the edge of his bed with a smile that never seemed to reach her eyes "How are we feeling this morning?"

"Great. I've finished my breakfast and I'm feeling real good today," he answers with a beaming smile.

She nods in acknowledgement, starting her assessment with him, "That's good to hear. No more fast heartbeat, yes?"

"Nope, all good,"

Smiling to his respond, she puts down her pad and looks at him closely, "Bob, I need you to promise me something, okay? If you feel anything strange, anything at all, you push that assistance button there and alert me, okay? I don't care if it's 2AM in the morning or if it only feels like a persisting scratch on your back, you tell me right away, okay?"

Bob frowns, trying to digest her insistent words.

"Please, promise me, Bob," she begs, taking his hand to hers and squeezing them gently "You don't have to feel bad if you're not sure about it or if the timing feels a little odd, just alert me at once, okay? And I'll come right back here in an instant, I promise you,"

Bob nods fast, blinking rapidly as he's still fazed from her urgency, but agreed nonetheless, "Of course, I promise,"

"Thank you," she whispers, putting her head down and placing the back of his hand to her forehead "Thank you, Bob,"

Bob watched as her head rests on his hand now. His other hand was itching to pat on her head, maybe run his fingers through the loose strands of her hair that falls out of the hair tie, but he was too scared of over stepping it. He doesn't know what it is that's making her this distraught or how to help her calm down. He's never had anyone to show him how, and the last thing he'd like to do is to make it even worse for her, so he just stayed there, eyes glued to the back of her head and let her have her moment to calm down.

With another squeeze, she finally puts his hand back down, "Alright, then, I'll let you back to rest,"

"I've done nothing but rest these past weeks, honestly," he answers bluntly "I don't think I can rest much more than I already did,"

She smiles, a soft chuckle escapes her lips and it felt like an earthquake to his heart. She looks down to her pad, scrolling through his charts and looking deep into it as if she's debating something in her head.

"You know what, you're right," she says as she puts the pad down "You've been in this bleak room for weeks without any sunlight. Why don't I try to talk with the other doctors to get you an hour or two permission outside of this room? Maybe we can stroll around the building? I hear there's this hawker place nearby that has really good food. Maybe we can go and try something there?"

Bob was unblinking now. Her proposal seems too good to be true, too fast to be offered. He's always thought about going out of this room, feeling the bustling road once again and seeing the people, but he didn't expect it to come this soon. He didn't expect that the date, though he knew it wouldn't be the kind of date he was hoping for, will happen in just mere days. Just how much luck has he scored eversince joining this drug test, honestly?

"I can't promise anything. I have to fight with the other doctors to give you this pass, but I will try," she continues "If you'd like, of course. If you think it's too fast—,"

"Please, I would love that," he says fast "I'd love to get out of this room with you,"

She smiles, this time a little more tender than the usual. She stares deeply into his eyes, looking at this bashful, yet charming man that has been the softest, most gentle soul she's ever come across. She watches as he fidgets a little from the gaze, undoubtedly feeling embarrassed again for no reason, yet she finds it hard to peel her eyes off of him. He was just too beautiful to not be admired at, too endearing for anyone to not fall in love with.

And Lord, she has fallen alright.

"Okay, I'll try and find Dr. Houston right away," she says softly.

Grabbing her pad and standing from her seat, she was about to walk away before Bob grabs her hand again, this time holding it gently and rubbing her skin with his thumb, "Thank you.. For everything,"

Turning her hand so that their fingers could interlock properly, she smiles at him and nods, "Thank you for everything too, Bob,"

—-

Having different style of work has made her and Houston have different labs on different floor of the building. She hardly ever visit his lab as she's the one who's done more progress and he's the one who needs to do the catching up, hence the more frequent visit of him to her lab, so tapping her ID to his now feels a little bizarre. She could still count with one hand the many times she's stepped foot on this floor over the years of them working in this building. She has never had any persisting matter to discuss with him until now, and seeing that the subject would certainly require a little back and forth argument, she reckons it would be best to just come to the old man's lab and bring the topic to his table.

Now that she's here, she observes the contrast difference of her lab compared to Houston's. Houston's lab is cleaned on the counter, stacked of papers placed neatly on the corners, while her's were more cluttered. The only messy part of the lab was Houston's work table, covered in leaves of papers and reports that she couldn't be more careless about.

Until one name caught her eyes: Robert Reynolds.

She picked up the report and began scanning the information. It looked similar to her reports, charts of his biometrics data, and progress through the experiment, but there's a strange folder on the back of this report, banded with a red clip.

"Confidential?" she whispers to herself, wondering why her reports were lacking of this document.

And that's how she found out. How none of the patients could survive the drug. How her samples, despite each success of previous tests, kept on failing on human subjects. How everyone seemed to be reaching their peak before succumbing the very next day with no prior symptoms.

Her serums were altered.

"I'm sorry, Kid," Houston says as he sneaked behind her and knocked her unconscious with a syringe of tranquilliser.

—-

"Good morn— You're not my doctor,"

The man steps closer to Bob's bed. His hand shoved deep in his coat pockets as he introduced himself, "My name is Dr. Houston, I will be taking care of you from now on, Robert,"

"Where is she?" Bob asks for her, calling her name "I don't want a new doctor, I want her,"

"She's.. Unavailable right now, but worry not, she's entrusted me to take care of you," Dr. Houston replies with a small smile "You have nothing to worry about, Robert. You will hardly feel her absence,"

Bob's brows furrow, obviously not welcoming this man, especially with his last words, but he has no other choice but to keep quiet this time, "When will she be back?"

Dr. Houston who was looking at his pad for Bob's charts stopped a little to look away, not meeting Bob's eyes as if he's trying to find the right answer before looking up with another smile, "Your charts are looking very great, Robert—"

"Bob," he cuts in "Just call me, Bob,"

"Bob," Dr. Houston repeats as if he's trying to see how the word lands on his tongue "You're looking very healthy from these charts, Bob. Are you ready for the next step?"

Bob raised an eyebrow, confused, "Next step? What next step?"

"Your exercises," Dr. Houston explains "We've stabilised you for the past weeks from the drug, and it looks like you're ready for our exercises,"

"What kind of exercises?"

"Well, you know, just basic physical exercises, like running, cycling, just the basic cardio for now. We don't want to push you too much, you're our most precious patient,"

Bob could hardly hear the next words Dr. Houston speaks of. The bitterness in his chest grew. He has so many questions, so much confusion as to why she would just leave him without a word, especially after promising to get him that pass to leave the building. He thought that she wanted to escape this room with him, even for just an hour or two. Whatever happened to that promise?

"Tomorrow, the nurse will help you to get to the gym. We'll monitor you throughout the exercise and after that, we'll do some blood test. We haven't done that in a while with you, have we?"

"No," Bob answers "Can I— Can I get out of the room after the blood test? She promised me she'd talk to the other doctors to give me some pass to go outside of this room, has there been any decision for that?"

"Oh, I didn't know we have that discussion, she didn't tell me anything," Dr. Houston says, making Bob's disappointment to grow even bigger "But let me see if I can do anything about that. For now, we just have to make sure that you'll pass the physical exercise tomorrow,"

Bob nods to himself, but his mind is evidently elsewhere. He stared at the wall as Dr. Houston excused himself. The voices in his head were loud now, much louder than they ever did before. The room suddenly feels more chilly, like it was void of life, and the gloomy storm was hovering above his head. He was drowning deeper and deeper into this dread until the glass of water by his side table suddenly broke, shattered to the ground with water pooling the floor.

He reached for the assistance bell. His thumb hesitated to press the button, wondering if he should just wait for the nurse to check in on the next hour to tell about the broken glass, or if he should just press and get it over with. See if she would really come running to him like she promised just the other day.

Everything was just fine, perfect, in fact, yesterday. One minute, she was here, holding his hands and making him feel like he mattered for once, and the next, she disappeared without a goodbye. A little voice in his heart told him that she must have a good reason for this abrupt farewell, but he's lived his whole life being left alone with no closure, no explanation as to why no one ever paid him any regard.

And so he closed his eyes and pressed the button. He kept his eyes shut until someone entered the room, hoping that when he opened them, he would see her standing by his bed and ease his mind like she always would.

"Yes, Bob?" Dr. Houston asked as he peeked in the room through the door "Anything wrong?"

"I— I broke the glass,"

"Ah," Dr. Houston says as he looked at the floor "We'll get someone to clean that up,"

Bob slumps back to his bed as Dr. Houston shuts the door. He pulled his knees close to his chest, hugging them as he felt the loneliness creeping right back up. The last few weeks with her have been so lovely, so full of warmth and love that he forgot how painful it is to be left alone once again. Or perhaps it was the fact that he never knew how it feels like to hope and be let down. He never had the privilege to hold any fraction of faith before. No one ever gave him a reason to have one until she came. Until she gave him the very desire to see the sun rise tomorrow. Until she gave him the very desire to leave this place alive. Until she gave him the very desire to have something more permanent in life.

And yet once again, Bob was left all alone.

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littlepaperboatyo · 1 day ago

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I think the language of this does a good job driving home the real issue behind things like Ai use and factory farming for me, which is not so simple as Ai is bad or factory farming is bad. Both of these things are done for the sake of scale, "how do we reach as many people as we can?" and when that is your first value it drastically shifts all of your other values. Corporations care about quantity of consumers over all else.

A small language school would never consider using Ai because it would introduce many problems and solve none. Their values would be set on doing their best to serve their community and help people they know to better communicate. Introducing Ai doesn't help them make a connection with Mel's kid Alex who's having a hard time learning Spanish and also understanding why he should learn Spanish just to talk to his new stepbrother Javi. That requires being present and connecting with people, and holds the possibility of personally mattering in their lives. Instructor Aldo might be the perfect person to do it too, Alex thinks he's a pretty cool guy and he focuses not on Alex's feeling about his mom getting married but on what Alex knows about Javi. Maybe that kid is pretty cool and Alex is missing out by not being able to play with him. Maybe Aldo can enlist Javi's help and now when they're laughing together Alex is desperate to be able to understand the joke. Now Alex is understanding Spanish, and he and Javi start being able to hang out, and they're both feeling a bit better about their parents getting married.

Take away instructor Aldo, now there's an app. It's a pretty good app, and if Alex would engage with it he might start to figure out Spanish, but he's angry about his mom getting married. He doesn't engage, and he has this stepbrother he doesn't understand, and he's mad. and he's mad. and he doesn't learn Spanish. and nothing changes.

But people learn languages for many reasons and Duolingo does work for many people. And it needs to work for more people, which means that they need to do more work. Which means they need to outsource it. Which means Ai is looking like a good choice.

This is what monopolies are. Forget about business for the sake of business, there was a time before businesses existed. there was a time before money. in fact, it was about 2000 years ago. people would do things for each other because they knew each other and cared about each other. and even when money came about it existed so that people who didn't know each other could help each other and would often result in people getting to know each other. in fact this is how about every business worked up until the industrial Revolution, and even then it was still most of them. But then you get businesses that do too well, and no one competing with them. And it's not really about the lack of competition that exists in a healthy economy, it's moreso about what happens when your neighborhood store is supporting more than just your neighborhood. where do they get the supply for the demand?

they outsource it.

When you care about scale your community expands. You have to start thinking on a bigger scale which means you lose sight of the small scale. Your values change, and your values affect the values of the people you serve. They lose sight of their value just as you have. I see it every day, and I see it in myself. I work in a very busy store where I serve thousands of people a day. My boss calls it the neighborhood store. I serve thousands of people a day. I see so many faces and I do my best to block them out because it's too much. This is not uncommon, for the people in my store or plenty of other stores belonging to different companies. But it is not normal.

Yesterday people came to protest where we get our chicken. I serve thousands of people a day.

It is not possible for companies to exist at this scale and honor good values.

And it smoothes over and eradicates culture. We don't have different conversations with our language instructors. We don't have that one really strange grocer that you can have an interesting conversation with for half an hour while they're on the clock. We don't have small communities with their own values that can inspire it's own culture.

we have the global scale.

[link]

we been knew its just a nail in a coffin tbh

#please seek out mom and pop shops i'm begging you

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slxttybrbie · 2 days ago

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BED TIME Cw: smut mdni, college student!reader, dilf!nanami, reader's a babysitter

The apartment is spotless, warm-toned and quiet, except for the low hum of a lullaby playing from the nightlight in the bedroom. You ease the door closed after tucking in Nanami's daughter, who—despite some initial shyness—took to you quickly. A few bedtime stories, a glass of warm milk, and a silly little song you made up on the spot, and she was out.

You sink into the couch and exhale. Babysitting wasn’t your first choice, but between school, rent, and the laughable pay at your campus job, you were desperate. When you saw the ad—“Evening babysitter needed. One child. Quiet home. Good pay”—you jumped.

And the man who interviewed you? Intimidating. Broad-shouldered. Polished in a suit and tie with that deep, thoughtful voice. He barely looked at you during the interview, only nodded at your qualifications and said, "You're hired."

Professional. Cold.

Which is why it throws you completely off when the front door opens, and Nanami steps in looking... not that.

He’s in his usual suit, yes, but the tie is loose. The first two buttons undone. His blond hair slightly mussed. And when he takes off his glasses to clean them with the hem of his shirt—revealing sharp eyes and tired shadows beneath—you feel something unfamiliar ripple through you.

Want.

"You're still here," he says, his voice deep and low, a little softer than usual. "Thank you."

You blink and stand quickly, grabbing your bag. "Of course. She was great. Went right to sleep. I was just about to head out."

"You hungry?"

You stop. "What?"

He walks toward the kitchen, rolling his sleeves up. His forearms—strong, veiny, dusted with light hair—catch your attention more than they should.

"I figured I’d make something quick. Nothing fancy, just pasta. You’re welcome to stay."

You hesitate.

But your stomach growls, and his gaze flicks down to your abdomen for a fraction of a second before he turns and opens a cabinet.

"...Sure. I guess I could eat."

Dinner smells like garlic and fresh basil. The kitchen is dimly lit, cozy. You sit on a stool at the counter while he moves with practiced ease. He's quiet, but not cold. More... observant. The kind of silence that watches.

“You’re in college?” he asks as he sets a plate in front of you.

You nod. "Second year. Double major."

He hums. "Ambitious."

You smile a little, feeling warm. "Trying to be."

Halfway through the meal, the conversation softens. You talk about your classes, about his work (he’s vague), about the city. But every time your eyes meet, the air feels heavier.

You excuse yourself to the sink, rinsing your plate. His comes next to yours a second later. He’s behind you—close. You can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

Then, quietly: "You shouldn’t wear shorts that small around me."

Your breath catches.

You look down at your legs. They’re modest enough. Mostly. But now you feel the burn of his gaze against the backs of your thighs.

"I—"

"Don’t worry," he cuts in. "I’ll pretend I haven’t been looking."

He steps closer, his hand bracing against the counter beside your waist. You turn your head and he's right there, his mouth inches from your ear.

"Unless... you don’t want me to pretend."

You swallow hard. "I don’t."

He exhales like he’s been holding back for hours. The next second, your back hits the counter, and his lips are on yours—hungry, restrained but crumbling. His tongue slides against yours, and the low groan he lets out makes your knees weak.

He lifts you onto the counter with ease, spreading your thighs. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your ass, one slipping under your shirt and tracing up your spine.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he mutters, kissing down your neck. "Coming here smelling all sweet, looking like temptation in a tank top and too-short shorts."

Your fingers clutch his dress shirt. You’re dizzy from the kiss, from the tension finally snapping.

"I didn’t mean to," you whisper.

He chuckles darkly. "Doesn’t matter. I’m done pretending."

His hand slips beneath your waistband, fingers brushing over your panties. You’re soaked—shamefully so.

"So wet already," he murmurs, pushing the fabric aside. "You were waiting for this."

Your head falls back as he circles your clit, slow and deliberate.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he breathes against your ear.

"Don’t stop," you plead.

His mouth crushes yours again. Fingers pumping into you—slow, then faster. Curling just right. You moan into his mouth and he swallows every sound.

"Such a good girl," he pants. "Letting me do this. Letting me touch what no one else has."

Your orgasm hits hard—embarrassingly fast—but he doesn’t stop. He draws it out, fingers still working you as he kisses the tears from the corners of your eyes.

"You can take more," he says. "You’re gonna take all of me."

And you want it. You want all of him.

Even if it’s wrong. Even if you’re never just the babysitter again.

ꨄ︎slxttybrbie | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[M.list]

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wbellab · 1 day ago

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Therapy session | J. Bucky Barnes

this could be read as a standalone or a part 2 of Busy Woman.

summary: after a chaotic mission, you end up attending a therapy session with bucky trying to mend up your relationship. this seems to have worsen up everything.

pairing: tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

cw: angsssst, therapy session, inspired by sambucky session in tfatws, graphic violence, some fluff (crumbles and bits)

3.1 k words

"Alright, Dr Raynor." You stated, more like a question and she nodded. "I get why you want me to talk to freaky magoo over here. But I’m a hundred per cent fine."

You definitely were not fine.

After the failed mission, Sam had dragged both you and Bucky to Baltimore in a failed attempt to get information from a former super soldier. That went about as well as expected—meaning not at all. And to top it off, Bucky got arrested for skipping therapy.

But the real question was: why were you sitting there with him now?

There’s a high chance that Sam had conveniently brought up the fact that your relationship with Bucky had become a bit rocky— not that you ever really got along. Either that, or the tension between you had been so thick it practically walked into the room before you did.

"It is my job to make sure you both are okay. Sam told me what happened, so yeah." Oh so you were right. "This may be slightly unprofessional but it’s the only way that I can see you getting over whatever’s eating at you."

"This is ridiculous." You muttered.

"Yeah i agree."

"Okay we’re going to do an exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they’re trying to figure what kind of life they’re trying to build together." You let out a snort, not out of amusement but irony. Bucky just rolled his eyes.

"Are you familiar with the miracle question ?"

"I don’t think it’s necessar-" Bucky started but you cut him off.

"No I’m not. What is it ?"

"Okay it goes like this. Suppose that while you are sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up what is something you would like to see that would make your life better ?"

With no surprise, Bucky was the first to answer the question.

"In my miracle, she would talk less."

"Is that why you threw me out of a moving truck asshole?"

"See what i mean." He turned to the therapist, which made you send a glare towards him.

"You both are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul gazing exercise."

"I like this one."

"Oh thank you I love this."

"Oh you should really enjoy this." You told him, moving your chair so that you would be facing him.

"I’m going to."

"I know you are."

"Okay you both face each other." The therapist instructed.

"Let’s do it let’s stare."

"We get close this is a good exercise."

"Thanks doc." You muttered.

"Alright, good get close. Come on closer."

"Well which way you want to go, right or left ?"

"Why do you have your legs wide open. You want me to sit on your lap or what ? You know what, fine." You scooted forward, legs angling inward until your knee pressed between his—and his was between yours.

The position was awkward. Too awkward. You could feel the brush of his knee against your inner thigh, too high, too warm. And though you hated to admit it, you could’ve almost been aroused by it. If your anger toward him didn’t burn hotter than the tension.

"You happy now ?" You huffed, successfully concealing your flustered state—which Bucky hasn’t been able to hide.

He sat stiffly, visibly uncomfortable, like even the slightest movement might set something off. He hadn’t moved an inch since you got close. Shoulders tense, jaw tight, clearly unsure where to look. It would’ve been satisfying if you weren’t equally rattled beneath the surface.

"All right, good. That’s fine." The therapist tried to stop your banter.

"It’s a little close." He muttered.

"It’s very close that’s what you wanted right ?" You retorted aggressively.

"Guys,"you both stopped. "Now look at each other. You need to look at each other in the eyes," you stared right at his blue eyes, a frown on your face similar to his. "There you see that wasn’t so hard."

You just continued staring right in them. Your eyes squinted trying hard not to blink as he did the same back.

You were still mad, furious actually, that he tossed you out of the damn truck without a single word. Like you were just some reckless burden he couldn’t deal with a second longer. And now, you wanted him to feel that. Every ounce of your anger.

So you weren’t about to blink. Not once. Not until he squirmed. Not until he realized you weren’t going to let him off easy.

Probably childish but effective.

"Wait what are you doing ? Are you having a staring contest ?" When none of you responded she snapped her fingers, making you close your teary eyes. Dammit.

"Just blink. Sweet Jesus."

Bucky’s frown was still on his face as he stared at the doctor.

"All right, Bucky, why does she aggravate you ?" A smirk started forming on his lips. He could definitely think of a bunch of reasons why you aggravated him. And when he was about to mention your current interest to his ass, Doctor Raynor cut him off. "And don’t say something childish."

Bucky’s smirk faltered and he let out a frustrated breathe. His jaw clenched as he started thinking, the muscle twitching like he was holding something back. For a second, he looked like he might drop it entirely. But then he sighed, tired of carrying the question around in silence.

"Why are you always flirting with me?" he asked quietly, almost too quietly. It wasn’t sarcastic. It wasn’t bitter. It was genuine, and that made it worse. There was a flicker of something raw behind his eyes, like he hated that he even had to ask. He sounded insecure and he hated it.

 "Oh my god is this what it is all about?" You dryly chuckle. "Why are you making such a big deal out of something so insignificant ?"

"Do you flirt with Bucky to push his buttons ?" The therapist chimed in, a bit more interested in the direction the conversation was flowing.

You rolled your eyes. What is it with all these weird questions ?

"I flirt with him because I like him. The button pushing is just a bonus."

"Yeah. Of course you would." His voice was cold. Harsh and condescending. Every hint of amusement disappeared from your face. "Do you get a kick out of messing with people just for fun? You don’t get to flirt with people and then act like none of this matters. Like I’m just something to pass the time until you get bored. It’s fucking disgraceful. And I’m–"

He couldn’t bring himself to say more. You were staring right at him, a frown on your face. How could he bring himself to explain what he was feeling out loud?

Bucky couldn’t believe you. He wouldn’t believe that you simply liked him. This was too simple of an explanation for someone like him. Someone that did horrible things couldn’t be wanted in the first place.

And it wasn’t just his own insecurities getting through him.

No. This was anchored in his brain, as if a small cognitive part of it told him this wasn’t possible. That every small moment of kindness was a lie he wasn’t allowed to believe in. Someone like him don’t get the girl, not really. Not without her regretting it later.

Another part of his brain told him your boldness and playfulness were just a reflection of the value you had of him, insignificant. You were messing with him, knowing Bucky would fall for you.

And how could he not ? You did everything to make him. When you were so insistent with him, bold, charismatic and funny. Clingy and affectionate. You were everything he had been craving since he came back from Hydra. There was absolutely no universe in which James Buchanan Barnes wouldn’t have fallen for you.

"Don’t act like this is real. It’s unfair." He said more softly.

You couldn’t believe what you just heard. It wasn’t mean, not exactly but this was as if. You couldn’t believe you ever let yourself fall for someone like him. He never really understood you.

What you felt in that moment was a deep, gut-punch kind of hurt.

Being told it all meant nothing. That your affection was careless or meaningless. This all shattered something fragile inside you. Everything you ever said or did, thinking it was sweet or meaningful felt exposed, misunderstood. Like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place, something you’d been too oblivious to see or too hopeful to admit.

He would never like, never reciprocate the feelings.

This wasn’t just romantic rejection. It was emotional rejection. He hadn’t just dismissed your feelings, he’d rejected the way you showed your love to him. And that hit harder than anything else. It was humiliating to care so much, and be accused of the exact opposite.

With a final sigh, you told yourself this would be all over. You were done being taken for a fool.

"You know what’s really unfair? You dismissing my fucking feelings when I have been displaying them so obviously." You bit back, scooting your chair away from him, when you noticed the proximity you still had. "Maybe this is something you would never understand and I’m so done making a fool out of myself just for you to not get the signals." You snapped. Breathe in, breathe out. You turned to the doctor, glaring at her like she'd personally orchestrated this mess. She did nothing wrong but she was the reason why you were here, trapped in this room, sitting across from him. And right now, that was enough.

You didn’t even have the sense to feel guilty for it. Not with the way your chest burned. Not after everything that had gone unsaid.

"You know what Doc I don’t have time for this. We have some real serious shit going on. So how about this, I will squash it, right now. We’re gonna deal with this and when we’re done we’ll go on long separate vacations. And never see each other again."

"Yeah." He sighed, he did not want you to squash it. He wanted to talk, to understand. "I like that." He lied.

"Great then let’s get to work." You turned to the therapist. "Thanks doc for making it weird. I feel so much better. See you outside." You rolled your eyes, stomping to the door. This was a total mess.

"Thank you." She answered, but you were already gone. She turned to Bucky. "That was really great. You’re doing better at expressing your emotions. Maybe next time, we’ll work on the dating part." He completely ignored her, standing up to leave before being interrupted by her. "I know that look." She stared at him as if she would see right through him. "You’re pushing her away."

He ignored what she said once again. "What was rule number two again ?"

"Don’t hurt anyone." She simply answered.

"Goodbye doc."

This session did not help your case. It was worse and Sam noticed.

"So how did it go ?" He asked you once you were out.

"Get lost." You muttered, going through the door to leave the police station.

Sam turned to Bucky who left the room a few seconds after you, noticing the gloomy stare on his face.

"I get that it did not go as well as expected."

"Oh fuck off."

"Ok guys I don’t know what happened in this room but you need to deal with it like right now before we enter Madripoor."

"There’s nothing wrong. I’m totally fine, let’s deal with the more important matters." You scoffed

"If I may say–"

"Shut up."

"Please don’t."

You and Bucky said at the same time. Zemo raised an eyebrow but wisely chose silence, folding his hands behind his back. It had barely been three hours since Bucky busted him out of prison, and those three hours had already been filled with tension thick enough to cut with a knife. The fallout of that decision had led to a heated argument between you and Bucky, and the aftermath still lingered, electric and unspoken, hovering just beneath the surface.

And this tension would linger for days.

"You should fuck the tension off. Worked well with my wife." Zemo mentioned once in the jet.

"That’s what I told them." Sam grumbled, it seemed like it was the only thing he agreed about with Zemo.

You and Bucky both turned to glare at him in unison.

This was hard. The comments, all the underlying tension. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, let alone to anyone else but you hadn’t moved on. Not really. It still hurt to think about it. Not in a loud, obvious way but in a slow, aching kind that sat in your chest and made it hard to breathe.

 It was over before it ever began. That was the part that stung the most.

You kept your eyes off him. Avoided looking. You didn’t know if he was watching you, and you didn’t care anymore. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The mission was done. You had stopped the Flash Smaggers’ attack on New York. You’d won.

And yet.

You noticed how close Sam and Bucky had become. You also noticed how far you’d drifted, not just from Sam, but from everyone. Two months. No calls returned. No contact. Just silence. You were alone again. Like before. And somehow, that felt almost familiar. Pathetic, but familiar.

Your boots hit the pavement in steady, silent steps. You were walking nowhere. Just moving.

And then you felt it, the presence behind you. Subtle, careful. But not careful enough. You’d clocked them almost thirty minutes ago. You were trained for this. So you led them here in a dark alley, bad angles.

You pressed your back to the cold brick wall, waited. As soon as the figure passed the corner, you struck. Knife in hand, aiming for the throat.

But they were faster. The blade never made it.

 You felt cold metal clamp around your wrist, stopping you mid-motion. Bucky. Of course.

You didn’t hesitate. If anything, that just made you angrier.

You slammed your heel into his solar plexus. He faltered, loosened his grip, and your wrist slipped free. In one fluid motion, you ducked low, sweeping for his legs. But he was already moving.

Instead, he grabbed your jacket, yanked you forward, and slammed you against the wall with a thud that echoed.

You retaliated immediately, headbutting him hard bone cracking against bone. He staggered, blood running from his nose, and you used the opening to punch him in the stomach.

But before it could collide, he grabbed your wrist, and twisted it back. But you twisted with him, using the momentum to slam your elbow into his ribs again and shove him into the wall.

He gripped your waist, lifted you, and threw you to the ground. Hard.

You hit the concrete with a grunt, For a second, something flickered in his expression, concern, hesitation. And that split-second lapse was all you needed. You kicked upward, catching him in the thigh, rolling to your feet before he could pin you.

You were breathing hard now, both of you bruised, dirt and blood smeared across your clothes, faces cut and scraped from the pavement.

"You think you can just toss me out of a truck and then follow me like nothing happened?" you snarled, your leg connected with the back of his knee to destabilize him. "You don’t get to throw me away literally and come running when you feel like it."

He stumbled back, but he caught himself. "You’re the one who disappeared."

You didn’t even wait. You slammed your elbow to his throat, driving him into the alley wall with a loud thud.

"Because you made it clear I meant nothing to you!"

"I did not mean to hurt you." he spat back, shoving you off him roughly. "You think any of this is easy for me?"

"I don’t care if it’s easy!" You shoved again, fists pounding at his chest now. "You said I toyed with you. You said I didn’t care. You made me feel like I was some stupid little girl who couldn’t take this seriously—"

"You think I don’t feel anything?" His voice cracked, but not out of emotion. Out of sheer frustration. "I was lost and I couldn’t understand you. I was trying to protect you!"

"By humiliating me? By making me feel like shit? You don't get to act like some noble idiot now, Bucky. You’re not the victim."

He lunged again, catching your wrists, holding them against the wall this time. Not gently.

"You think I’m not aware of that?" his voice was low in your ear. "I know I’m screwed up. I know what people see when they look at me. So forgive me if I don’t believe it when someone like you pretends to give a damn."

Your breathing was ragged. The tension between you was suffocating.

"Get your hands off me," you whispered.

He didn’t move. "Say you didn’t mean it."

"What?"

"All the flirting. The drunk night. The things you said. Say you didn’t mean any of it."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. But you didn’t say a word.

That silence was enough.

He let go of you like your skin burned him, and took two steps back.

The distance felt a hell of a lot colder than the fight.

"I was cruel," he said quietly.

"You were," you answered, not softening it for him.

And he nodded, like he knew you would say that. Like he needed to hear it.

“It wasn’t about you,” he said. "But I made it about you. I made you pay for the shit in my head, and that’s on me."

"I no longer care." You lied.

"Please come back." His hand grabbed you arm, softly now. You let him guide you towards him. Although your expression was close.

"No. James don’t."

He ignored you and caressed the bruise that was forming on your forehead.

"I’m sorry." He muttered. You couldn’t tell if he meant the bruise or everything else—but your throat tightened anyway.

You frowned, eyes stinging, and before you could stop yourself, everything that you’ve been bottling up had exploded. Tears spilled over and he saw it.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you like he could keep the world out.

"It’s okay. I’ve got you." He muttered, his hand stroking your hair.

You sank into him, both of you slowly lowering to the ground. He followed without letting go, holding you as tightly as he could while you cried against his chest.

"You deserve better, doll."

"I don’t–" Your choked on a sob. And he only pulled you tighter.

"We’ll figure it out. I’m not letting you go again."

Dirtied, bloodied, bruised. You both looked wrecked. And somehow, in the thick of it all, you decided to believe him. To start over.

Not with promises. Not with pretty words. But with this—his arms around you, your tears on his shirt, and the silence that didn’t need to be filled.

That was how it would begin: in the comfort of the chaos. Not clean, not easy. But real.

a/n: i was about to separate this one and make a part 3 but i m on my exam period so it was either binge writing it or never finishing it. Thank you for everyone all of you I truly appreciate that you liked the first part !

@vxllys @seventeen-x @softpia @just-a-little-awkward @am-3-thyst @freshfreakoaftrash @awinchester83 @stars4birdie @ladyliloslife @starstruckfirecat @hannahbanannax @genlovesdcb @fandomsearcherforcuntymen

@astermwah @spaceunicorn293 @inloveallthetime @bigteefsmallbrain @oceanaroma @winchestert101 @thatgirljas13

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barns imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel one shot #the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #thunderbolts*#sebastian stan

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jordiemeow · 2 days ago

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CHALLENGERS ANNIVERSARY BOT RELEASE ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

04/05/25

happy terribly late challengersversary!! and thank u for 1k followers that's insane i adore u all. crazy to me how fun of a place this has become and i can’t believe it’s been an entire year since the movie came out omg. shoutout to tashi duncan for bringing us all together to fujo out like this. yeah x10!!

also dropped the android bots temporarily bc i know a few people got reqs for them for this release! they'll be out in the future but i wanna make a tashi one too so i can post them all at once :) as usual all bots are gender neutral unless specified otherwise.

enjoy! <3

ART TASHI PATRICK

ATP art x tashi x patrick x user

One coach is strenuous enough. Two gives you a headache. But three people barking orders at you for hours every day… it's enough to drive any sane person crazy. Especially when your coaches are known to get a little more... handsy, than what should really be appropriate.

ART AND PATRICK

THREE'S A CROWD art x patrick x user

Three's a crowd. or, at least, it should be. The three of you are thick as thieves—both your boyfriends, and each other's best friends. But you see the way they look at each other, the way they get a little too lost in each other when you're all tangled up in bed together. They aren't as discreet as they think they are. Your poor little repressed white boys.

UNOFFICIAL THIRD art x patrick x user

Moving into a rural town with no stable job probably wasn't the smartest decision you've ever made. But two of the local farmers are friendly enough to offer you a job helping around their farm. Two boyfriends, Art and Patrick, who seem just a little too keen to keep you around for a monogamous couple.

TRUTH OR DARE art x patrick x user

It's always Patrick, isn't it? None of you are surprised when he proposes a game of truth or dare the summer before college starts, sitting out in the sand in front of his parent's beach house. Aow bad could it possibly go? (Spoiler: very.)

ART DONALDSON

KIDS HAVING KIDS art donaldson x user (m4f)

Meeting Art in your freshman year of college was great. He had the potential to be a perfect boyfriend—you just never expected it all to happen so quickly. Fast forward to two years later and the pair of you are juggling an unplanned baby, your future careers, and enough homework to drown in. at least you have each other.

ALTAR BOY art donaldson x user

Art's a good Christian boy. Says his prayers before bed every night, serves as his father's altar boy when he's preaching, and wears his purity ring as if it's a physical part of him. Which is why he feels real guilty about all the thoughts his brain is conjuring up about the new kid in town. And against his better judgement, he finds himself seeking you out more and more.

IMPOTENT art donaldson x user

It's embarrassing. Thirty-two years old and he struggles to get it up. Patrick says it's normal for a man of his lifestyle, but he knows he's just saying that to make him feel better. And with you, his young new partner, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He can't just keep making excuses when you try to take it further; one man only needs to run to the bathroom so much. Maybe it's time to finally come clean.

MERYTON BALL art donaldson x user (m4f)

When your mother mentions a new young man moving into netherfield park, you don't think too much of it. An eligible bachelor that all the girls will be swarming to at the first event he shows his face at, no doubt. But the man in question, Art Donaldson, seems to take a shine to you, and you can't possible turn down such a sweet, bashful smile.

SLIP OF THE TONGUE art donaldson x user (m4f)

Well, this is very awkward. In the heat of the moment, with you perched atop him and your bodies slick with sweat, Art accidentally let the word mommy slip. He's never been so mortified in his life; it's never a term you've discussed using, and the surprise on your face was clear. Embarrassed, he takes to avoiding you after that—but you're his girlfriend. He can't ignore you forever.

JUST A TRIM art donaldson x user

Just a trim. That's what you said when you plucked the pair of hair scissors out of your bag and made your husband sit down at your kitchen table with a towel draped over his shoulders. But, as you run your fingers through his curls, you can't help but think how handsome he'd look with his hair cut a little shorter. How much more mature he'd look without those boyish ringlets.

TRINKETS art donaldson x user

Art normally keeps to himself—he's accidentally lured more than a few pure souls to their demise with his siren song over the course of his life. Now, he watches from afar, transfixed by the humans along the shore that come to swim or play in the rock pools. When you move into one of the houses by the shore, he thinks you're absolutely wonderful. He's too shy to talk to you, of course, but that doesn't stop him from leaving little gifts for you: trinkets he's discovered from sunken ships or on the ocean bed. And then one night the moonlight emboldens him enough to find you on the shore.

PATRICK ZWEIG

BOY DAD patrick zweig x user (m4f)

Your baby daddy is a real pain. The kind that doesn't even bat an eye when your son comes home saying swear words after the spending the weekend with him, and texts you to confirm details he should know about his five-year-old. At the end of the day, though, your kid loves him. Maybe you still love him, too.

DESK CLUMP patrick zweig x user

Once upon a time, Patrick Zweig was destined for greatness. Now, in his mid-twenties, he's found himself working a shitty desk job for a sales company he couldn't care less about. Amidst all the dullness and depression of the modern office, at least he has you to make him feel better about himself. That one weird co-worker who he shares a desk clump with and looks considerably more miserable than him. Plus, you're kinda cute.

GIRL DAD patrick zweig x user (m4f)

When you told your friends you were pregnant, they weren't sure whether to congratulate you or pat you on the back and tell you everything would work out. "Are you sure?" Your mother had asked, when you delivered the news. But despite everyone's doubts about the father, Patrick has proven himself; he's settled down, and after years of being alone, he has a family to come home to. Doesn't mean he isn't still the same idiot you fell in love with.

NUISANCE patrick zweig x user

One of your roommates is a total nuisance. Art is clean enough, but Patrick is a slob. Probably because he grew up with a maid to clean after his ass and Art to keep their room tidy enough for inspections at the Academy... he also has no sense of space and just never leaves you the fuck alone.

WEIRDO patrick zweig x user

Patrick isn't really sure what it is about you. Maybe it's the fact that you don't care about putting up an image to impress him. Maybe it's the way you look adorable with your glasses on and your nose in a book. Either way, he's just completely smitten with you. You're a weirdo... but you're his weirdo.

SINGLE MOTHER patrick zweig x user (m4f)

The moment you brought up having a toddler, Patrick should have booked it. He was sorely tempted, mind you—it's a lot of commitment getting involved with a woman that already has a kid. He's never been the settling down type in the first place. But he really likes you, and after being introduced to your son, he realises he likes him too. Ugh. What a predicament.

TASHI DUNCAN

WHO WOULDN'T BE? tashi duncan x user

Is it a little snaky of you? Yeah, probably. But Patrick just isn't good enough for her! you tell yourself you're doing her a favour. As her best friend, it's your job to steer her away from her asshole of a boyfriend, even if that involves telling a few white lies.

SOLAR POWER tashi duncan x user

Tashi doesn't really get much time to just relax. If she isn't playing tennis, she's at press conferences or sponsorship meetings. She's the most hard-working person you know, especially at her age. So you're a little surprised when she suggests a trip to the beach... but there's no way you're turning down seeing her all chilled out in a bikini.

TUTORIAL tashi duncan x user

When you start seeing Art, your lack of experience doesn't even cross your mind. He seems like an innocent enough guy to you, after all. But when your best friend keeps telling you stories patrick has passed out about all the people art has been with at the academy, maybe you get a little insecure. And maybe you've been whining about it to Tashi for the last few weeks. So, eventually, she caves—she can teach you a few things. It's not as if her boyfriend will mind. He'll just be mad he isn't there to watch.

SUNSHINE tashi duncan x user

After her injury, Tashi was miserable. The first few weeks of working with her, she was cold and snappy, the opposite of your warm smiles and encouraging words. Barely said a word to you unless it was to tell you she was fine or to fuck off. But she's taking it out on the wrong person. You're only trying to help, after all—it's your job. So eventually she warms up to you, and the hostile greetings eventually turn into smiles and coffee placed on your desk before you begin her sessions. She's still a little moody sometimes, though.

COVER GIRL tashi duncan x user

The name 'Tashi Duncan' is quickly becoming known by everyone in the modelling world. Dhe's been on the cover of Vogue, inspired a whole new Chanel collection. With her face on half the billboards in the country, she doesn't have the time to be answering calls and sending emails, so she takes on an assistant: you. The job pays well, and it's a good way into the industry, but... she's a lot more of a brat than you were expecting when you took the job.

taglist: @tacobacoyeet @blastzachilles @gracelynnx @femme-lusts @voidsuites @cha11engers @magicalmiserybore @m4lodr4ma @newrochellechallenger2019 @coolgrl111 @peachyparkerr @stanart4clearskin @misswrldd @kaalxpsia @downtwngrl @pittsick @strfallz @artspats @dazedandconfusedlvr @turnerrst @elsieblogs

#challengersversary #challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan x reader #challengers bot #art donaldson bot #patrick zweig bot #tashi duncan bot #mike faist #josh o’connor #zendaya #character.ai #c.ai #jordiemeow #jo bots ⋆˚࿔

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springismss · 3 days ago

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ᱬ⛧ baby mine 2.0 ~ s. todoroki

sum: how would shoto feel about becoming a father? here's a little month-by-month on how things would feel/go.

pairing: husband! shoto todoroki x wife! reader

content: sfw - established relationship, pregnancy, just an overview. fluffy and sweet. epilogue spoilers of shoto’s hero position for anime only watchers/those not caught up on the manga/new fans.

a/n: oh hey, i'm finally back after my first week of training at my new job with a work i've been doing when i come home. this is just a little rewrite of baby mine which i posted a good few years ago, but i feel like this is a good follow-up to perfect as well (both of which will be linked below). as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated.

word count: 2,114

links: bnha/mha masterlist | baby mine | perfect | masterlist

The air felt thick as you paced back and forth, chewing on your fingernail as you looked at the object on the bathroom countertop. You should be used to this feeling, but you still felt the same antagonising dread at what you would see. And much like every other time, you prayed that this one would be different.

The sound of the timer going off brought you out of your little ritual, feet bringing you to a stop in front of the object. Maybe you should leave it, pretend this wasn't happening once again and throw the stupid thing away. You knew what you were about to see, a sight all too familiar these past few years.

Taking a shaky breath, you reached forward and grabbed hold of the object, hand shaking slightly as you stalled for a moment. This was like every other time, so why were you feeling more anxious this time? Deciding it was best to get it over and done with, you quickly turned the object over, only to be met with the words you never thought would appear for you.

‘Pregnant 3+’

Holding back a sob, you gripped the counter to ground yourself. This had to be a joke, right? A faulty test. Something just to get your hopes up before it was cruelly ripped away from you again. You didn't think you had it in you to go through that again.

A sudden knocking on the door brought you to your senses as you quickly wiped your eyes, hoping to catch any stray tears that had begun to fall. "(y/n)? Are you okay? You've been there a while this time". Of course, they were worried; you could tell by how they sounded.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you turned and walked towards the door, placing your hand on the handle and opening it with a small click. You looked up, taking in the person in front of you, the person who was just as worried as you were.

Shoto Todoroki - your husband and the current number two pro hero.

"Sorry my love, it took a little longer than I thought. I couldn’t find the towels…”. The look on his face told you that he knew exactly what you had been doing. Your ever attentive husband always knew when you were up to something, especially when it come to something like this.

It was no secret, that despite his past, both you and Shoto wanted to expand your family with a child of your own. A child that would no doubt be showered with love and given a childhood the pro never had a chance to have.

"So, tell me...". More tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold back another sob, unable to find the right words to say. Shoto, used to the heartbreak as well, sighed out, crushed that yet another attempt, to him, had been unsuccessful. "It's okay, there's always next time".

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he ran his hand through your hair. Trying to soothe you in one of the best ways he could. He knew it wasn't much but it was the best he could do. Feeling powerful, even as your husband was a gut wrenching feeling

"Sho, I'm pregnant". He looked at your teary eyes in shock as your words slowly began to sink in, looking down at your outstretched hand that held the test. A big smile tugging at his lips as he cupped your face, kissing you softly.

♡ Month 2 ♡

The feeling of being on cloud nine never left for you both, although Shoto was slightly wary. Sure his relationship with his father was slowly getting better but due to his childhood and upbringing, he was always left second-guessing himself.

What if he fucked up? What if he didn't fall into the role of being a father? Those questions stayed at the back of his mind, regardless of how much he pushed them aside. "Shoto, I still can't believe we're going to be parents".

Looking down at your belly, you smiled and rubbed your hand over your still soft stomach. As the days passed, it felt more like a dream. Sure, you'd suffered with the morning sickness, the bouts of fatigue, but you knew it would be worth it in the end. "We can't wait to see you, little one!".

The dual-haired male looked at you and smiled. He knew you'd support him in this journey, his past couldn't define how he was as a dad. Only he could, and with you by his side, he knew you would always cheer him on.

♡ Month 3 ♡

A blank screen greeted the two of you as you both entered a room, exchanging greetings with the sonographer.

Today was the day the two of you would get to see your child for the first time. Various 'what ifs' ran through your mind as you gripped Shoto's hand. His eyes looking into yours in a silent promise everything would be okay. He knew you wouldn’t be able to handle another heartbreak.

Laying yourself down, you got comfortable and closed your eyes as you waited for a sign that everything was fine. That the life growing inside you was still there and stronger than ever. The lump in your throat growing dangerously until you heard it.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

That small sound made you open your eyes, tears lining your waterline as you saw the tiny life on the screen. A slight squeeze of your hand drew your attention to Shoto, his eyes shining as he looked at your child.

"A perfectly happy and healthy baby. Such a strong heartbeat already".

Both of you smiled at each other, the tears finally slipping down the sides of your face as you took in the image. The lump that had been there moments ago was slowly disappearing as you gazed at the screen.

♡ Month 4 ♡

A small bump had begun to appear on you, your body finally starting to show the presence of the small life you were carrying. Your hand never left your bump whenever you had the time to touch it. "I guess I look kind of pregnant now".

Looking down, you smiled and wrapped your arms around your husband, your eyes meeting his before you closed yours slightly, falling into a much-needed sleep.

Glares over you, then down to where you were starting to swell. Shoto’s eyes flashed in slight worry before returning to normal, gently placing a hand on yours, careful not to wake your sleeping form.

He wasn't going to lie, he was scared. Scared of what was to come and the type of father he'd be. No one could blame him, not even you, but you'd support him no matter what.

♡ Month 5 ♡

Facing the ultrasound screen again, the pair of you chatted amongst yourselves, having the odd argument about the gender of your child. Of course, you didn't mind what you were having, but it was nice to have a little friendly bet on who would be right.

The small image of your child appeared on the screen again as your hearts began thumping in disbelief, the high you felt gazing on the small life never leaving. Everything was perfect and normal, even seeing what looked like a small wave or two.

"Now, would you like to know the gender?". You both looked at each other, nodding with a smile. It might have seemed like a stupid question, one that others would most likely say no to, but to you and Shoto, it would mean you would get to prepare for what was to come.

"Well, I can tell you both, you're having a perfectly healthy baby-".

♡ Month 6 ♡

Clothes. Toys. Essentials.

You name it, it began to pile up as you started to finally prepare properly for the arrival of your child. Emotions had began to run high, and if it wasn't floods of tears, it was hot tempers. Your hormones weren't helping you whatsoever, as the slightest thing would set you off.

Shoto walked into the bedroom to find you curled up on the bed, a small baby grow hugged to your chest as you sobbed. In an obvious panic, he ran over and held you close to him after he sat down. "Hey, baby, what's wrong?".

That sentence, despite coming from a good place, made you cry harder, muffled sobbing sounding against his chest.

Turns out you were emotional over the fact that a small baby could fit into that piece of clothing.

♡ Month 7 ♡

Shoto's family gushed over you continually, making sure you were safe and comfortable whenever you visited them with Shoto.

Fuyumi and Rei would excitedly touch your bump, asking a variety of questions. Gossiping and sharing stories of how Shoto was as a baby, some making you laugh at your husband’s embarrassment.

Natsuo would spend time with Shoto, casually talking about life with his younger brother. Especially how he was feeling regarding the upcoming arrival and, despite not being a father himself, encouraging him to enjoy the years ahead.

Enji, on the other hand, would sit back and watch on. Taking in the buzz around him with a somewhat contented smile on his face. He still has a bit of a way to go before he could be a part of the family unit.

♡ Month 8 ♡

Things became more painful and tiring for you as your body ached. You wanted nothing more than for the heavy feeling to go and have your baby in your arms. Showering them with all the cuddles and kisses you could manage. "(y/n), it won't be long now, I promise".

You looked up a little and smiled, the overwhelming tiredness visible on your face. He hated not being able to help you, take away the pain you felt, the uneasiness, but most of all the worry. The worry that something was going to go wrong, regardless of you both making it this far.

Resting a hand on your swollen belly, you felt the strong movements as you hummed out. Taking hold of your husband's hand, you rested it on the place you had your hand moments ago, just in time to feel a kick.

"I hope so, Shoto. I just want to meet our little one".

♡ Month 9 ♡

A new cry pierced the silence of the room, ringing loud and clear as you gripped onto Shoto. The two of you smiled as tears slipped down your faces. The emotions you felt finally crashed through you at once. "You did it (y/n)! I'm so proud of you".

Shoto placed soft kisses on your dazed face as a small bundle was placed into your arms. The baby moved around slightly, settling down on the softness of its mother's skin, beginning its first feed. Eyes opening slightly before shutting, suckling away.

"White hair with red tips, gorgeous blue eyes. She's definitely a Todoroki".

You looked up as Shoto sat down beside you, giving a tired smile as you nodded your head. The past months had been a whirlwind. Despite the tiring time you’d just been through and the way your body ached, this moment made it worth every single second.

♡ The first year ♡

The tiring nights. The endless amount of changes and feeds.

Shoto couldn't deny it; it was hard. Really hard. He constantly second-guessed himself, and he didn't feel like he was good enough. Even during those doubtful times, you encouraged him as his biggest supporter, be that through words or actions, you always made sure he was okay.

Things became slightly easier, and cuddles and kisses became more frequent as your daughter grew. New milestones and wonders greeted you all. Even Shoto's family adored their niece and granddaughter. Especially Enji, who took his time, taking great care not to mess up this time around.

Then came the words.

The day she said "Dada".

Shoto sat crying. Normally, he wasn't one for showing emotion, but the moment she said that, he couldn't hold back. From the moment he found out you were finally pregnant to the first time holding his beautiful daughter, he couldn't believe he could be a dad, yet he was such a perfect dad to this little girl who couldn't help but adore the very ground he walked on.

Picking her up, he gently rocked the small girl as her eyes slowly closed, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

"I've got you, princess. Daddy will keep you safe. I'll always be your number one hero, no matter what happens".

permanent tags; @ani-net

166 notes · View notes

arkaiveofurown · 16 hours ago

Text

he was harsh to you

Pairings: Crocodile x Reader, Ace x Reader, Law x Reader, Mihawk x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000 - 2,000 words each

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

my masterlist here ♡

----

Crocodile

The tension between you and Crocodile had been building for days. He had been aloof, and his sharp, biting remarks were starting to wear on you. It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle his bluntness—hell, you were used to it by now—but today, it felt different. It felt personal.

You had just come from a successful mission for the Cross Guild, but the celebration was overshadowed by Crocodile’s attitude. You were standing near the map room, reviewing your next move, when he stormed in with that familiar scowl on his face.

“Don’t you have something better to do than stand around wasting time?” Crocodile snapped, his tone cold and dismissive. “I don’t need a babysitter. Get your act together.”

You felt your blood boil at his words. “Excuse me?” you shot back, unable to hide the irritation in your voice. “I’m doing my job just fine, thank you very much. Maybe you should stop trying to belittle everyone around you.”

Crocodile’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening as he stepped closer. “Belittle? I’m trying to get through to you. You’re so damn distracted, it’s pathetic. You’re wasting your potential.”

“Wasting my potential?” You clenched your fists, holding back the sting of his words. “How about you stop trying to micromanage everyone around here? I’m getting things done, but you just don’t want to see it, do you?”

“Getting things done?” Crocodile scoffed, walking over to the table and slamming his hand on the map. “You’re dragging your feet. We’ve got a Guild to build, and you’re too busy pretending everything’s fine. If you think this is going anywhere, you’re living in a fantasy.”

His words stung more than you cared to admit. “I’m not pretending anything. I’m doing exactly what needs to be done. But if you think I’m just here to be your damn soldier, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Crocodile’s eyes flashed with something darker. “Soldier? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re part of the team—if you can manage to act like it. But from what I’m seeing, you’re more of a liability than an asset.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words, the anger bubbling up in your throat. “A liability? I’ve been working harder than anyone on this ship, and you can’t even see it. Maybe it’s easier for you to blame everyone else for your own failures.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping low. “What failure? I’m not the one who’s failing here. It’s you, with all your whining, trying to act like this is a charity. This is a Guild, not a damn playground.”

You could feel the heat rising in your face, but you stood your ground. “You’re impossible. You always think you’re right and that the world revolves around you. Maybe you need to take a long look in the mirror and realize that you’re the one who’s out of line.”

Crocodile didn’t flinch. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. You either get in line or get out of my way.”

That was the breaking point. You took a deep breath, fighting back the urge to lash out. “I’m done with this,” you said, your voice shaking with frustration. Without another word, you turned and stormed out of the room, the slam of the door echoing in your wake.

----

The silence in the ship’s quarters felt suffocating. Crocodile’s harsh words echoed in your mind, replaying over and over, and the weight of the argument was crushing. You hadn’t expected it to escalate like that, but there was no denying it now—you were hurt, and you couldn’t pretend otherwise.

You hadn’t bothered to leave your room, locked in your thoughts, lying on the bed with your back to the door. The sting of Crocodile’s words felt like a constant pressure on your chest. You’d been part of the Cross Guild for so long, fought alongside the others, but why did it feel like Crocodile just saw you as a tool? A tool that he could discard when it suited him.

You hated the feeling of weakness that crept in with the tears you’d been trying to hold back. But when it all became too much, they finally fell. Quietly at first, then in desperate, broken sobs.

You hadn’t realized how much you needed to cry until you did.

Hours passed, and you thought you’d hear the sounds of Crocodile’s usual cold demeanor at your door. But it never came. No knock, no footsteps—nothing.

You sat up from your bed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. Crocodile might not have said anything more, but his absence was almost worse. It felt like he didn’t care enough to even check if you were okay.

----

The next day, things were still quiet between you and Crocodile. He wasn’t avoiding you, but he wasn’t making any overt moves either. The silence felt heavy, like there was more left unsaid, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to approach him first.

It wasn’t until you were sitting alone in the ship’s main hall, watching the crew go about their usual duties, that you saw him again. He was standing near the door, scanning the room as though he was looking for something—or someone. His gaze fell on you, and for a moment, you thought about getting up and leaving.

But then, something unexpected happened.

He walked toward you, his steps deliberate, his usual air of command unmistakable. But there was no arrogance, no cold indifference. Instead, there was something almost… hesitant, as though he was unsure how to approach.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice lower than usual. Not demanding, but more… tentative.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Crocodile sat down beside you, but there was a clear distance between you two. Still, he didn’t break the silence. Instead, his eyes flickered to the floor and back to you, unsure of how to even start.

“I’ve been thinking,” Crocodile began, his voice unusually soft. “I don’t do ‘soft’ well. I never have. I push people away because it’s easier than getting close. But with you… I shouldn’t have done that.”

You stayed quiet, listening. This wasn’t the Crocodile you were used to, and it threw you off. But you could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“I treated you like you were disposable. Like I could just push you aside because I don’t know how to handle emotions,” he continued, his words laced with the rare honesty he usually kept buried. “I’m not saying I can change overnight, but I… I can try. I can do better. For you.”

For a moment, the room felt too quiet, too heavy with the weight of his confession. You weren’t sure what to say, but you couldn’t deny the effort he was showing. It wasn’t just words. It was him trying—genuinely trying—to be someone better for you.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he added, his gaze meeting yours directly. “But if you’ll let me, I want to show you that I’m not just some heartless bastard.”

You exhaled slowly, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. Crocodile wasn’t the type to offer grand gestures, but this... this was different.

He shifted in his seat, as if he was fighting the urge to stand up and walk away. His usual confidence was tempered by something more vulnerable, and it made the tension between you two feel palpable. Still, there was something unspoken in the air, something you both knew needed to be addressed.

After a moment, Crocodile pulled something from his pocket, a small, worn notebook. He placed it between you two with a rare hesitance, as though it was heavier than it appeared.

“I don’t usually carry things like this,” he started, his voice rough but not harsh. “But... I thought you might find it useful.” He tapped the notebook once. “It’s full of notes—things I’ve learned, strategies, things about our crew that could be useful. Not much, but it’s something I’ve kept for myself. Thought it might help you... since we’ve been working together.”

There was no flashy gesture, no grand promises—just this small act of vulnerability. Crocodile wasn’t one to share his notes or insights with just anyone, much less someone he had been pushing away. It was his way of showing he trusted you more than he had before.

You stared at it for a moment, processing what he’d done. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t over-the-top, but it was honest. It was him offering something personal, a piece of his world that he didn’t usually share.

“I know I’m not great with words,” Crocodile continued, looking away, his usual guarded expression back in place. “But I can do this. I’ll show you I’m not just some cold bastard.”

You let the silence stretch between you as you reached for the notebook, running your fingers over the pages. It was simple, but it meant something—he was trying. And that was enough for now.

"Thank you," you said softly, glancing up at him. "This is... more than I expected."

His eyes flickered to yours for a moment, something unreadable in them. "It's just a start," he muttered, standing up. "I’ll keep trying. But you’ve got to meet me halfway, too."

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief. It wasn’t perfect, and there were no sweeping gestures, but this... this felt real. And that was a good place to begin.

---

Ace

The sun was setting on the horizon, casting golden hues across the ship. You and the rest of the Whitebeard Pirates were enjoying a rare moment of calm as the ship slowly drifted across the sea. The deck was lively with the crew, but you found yourself chatting with Thatch, who was always kind and welcoming.

The conversation was lighthearted, the two of you laughing over some silly story. But through the corner of your eye, you noticed Ace’s figure standing by the mast. His eyes were fixed on you and Thatch. You didn’t think much of it, assuming Ace was just being his usual quiet self. But then, you saw his expression—dark, his jaw clenched, fists tightly gripping the railing. His eyes narrowed as he watched you, and it felt like a cold gust had suddenly blown through the deck.

Before you could finish your conversation with Thatch, Ace stormed over. You barely registered his approach before he grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from Thatch.

“Hey! What the hell, Ace? What’s going on?” you said, trying to pull your arm from his grasp.

“Don’t hey me,” Ace snapped, his voice low and seething. He was angry, and it was obvious. “What the hell was that about?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, confused. You looked back toward Thatch, who was watching the exchange, a slight frown on his face.

“Don’t play dumb,” Ace growled. “You’ve been all over Thatch today. Laughing, touching him, flirting like it’s some fucking game. What, am I not enough for you?”

Your heart dropped at his words. “Flirting? Ace, we were just talking. It’s nothing like that. You’re making it into something it’s not.”

“Really?” Ace scoffed, his eyes darkening. “Don’t act like I’m blind. I’ve been watching you. The way you’re acting with him, it’s obvious. You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t see it?”

You felt the heat rise in your chest. “Are you seriously accusing me of something right now? You’ve known Thatch for years, and now you’re acting like this over nothing?”

Ace’s grip tightened on your wrist, his face flushed with anger. “Nothing? You think this is nothing? You think I’m stupid? You’ve been laughing with him, leaning into him, all damn day! It’s like I’m invisible to you when he’s around!”

“Ace, calm down!” you snapped, pulling your arm from his grip. “You’re overreacting. This isn’t about Thatch! I’m not doing anything wrong!”

Ace stepped closer, his voice growing colder. “Don’t tell me to calm down. You don’t get it, do you? I’m standing here, and I’m watching you smile at him, touch him, like I don’t fucking matter. And what the hell am I supposed to think?”

You couldn’t believe it. “You’re acting insane. You know I love you, right? You’re my partner. But you can’t just jump to conclusions like this—this isn’t jealousy, this is possessiveness. It’s not fair to me.”

“I don’t give a damn what you call it,” Ace sneered, crossing his arms. “It’s not just a little joke anymore. It’s like you’re fucking ignoring me every time he shows up, and I’m tired of it.”

You clenched your fists, feeling your frustration boil over. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re the one I want. Not him, not anyone else. I’m not some fucking flirt, I don’t need your jealousy getting in the way of everything. You’re acting like a child.”

“A child?” Ace barked out a laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “Look at you. You’re so fucking perfect with everyone else. But when it comes to me, I’m the one left questioning if I even matter to you.”

“Ace, you’re being ridiculous!” you yelled, your anger flaring. “This isn’t how you should be acting. You’re pushing me away with this shit!”

“I don’t care if you think I’m ridiculous!” Ace shot back, his face turning red with fury. “I can’t fucking help it. It just hurts to see you giving attention to someone else when you’re supposed to be mine. What am I supposed to do with that? Just ignore it like you’re not doing anything wrong?”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you couldn’t even find a response. You stared at him in disbelief. The person you knew, the Ace you loved, wouldn’t talk to you like this. He wouldn’t accuse you, wouldn’t twist everything into something ugly. “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,” you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

Ace ran a hand through his hair, his expression shifting from anger to frustration, but his tone was still harsh. “I’m just saying what I feel, alright? Maybe I should just stop caring. Maybe I should just let you do whatever the hell you want without giving a damn.”

You felt a sting in your heart at that, but you didn’t let him see it. “Fine. If that’s how you want to be, then go ahead. Push me away. Make me feel like I don’t matter. Do what you need to do.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you!” Ace snapped, his voice getting louder. “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m not enough for you! Like you don’t need me anymore!”

“Ace, stop acting like I’m the one who’s wrong here,” you said, stepping back from him. “This is about you—your insecurities. You need to figure this shit out before you start blaming me.”

“I don’t need your lectures right now,” Ace spat, his eyes wild with frustration. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m the one with a problem. You’re the one making me feel like this!”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the tension between you two, thick as smoke. You didn’t know what to say anymore. His words hurt more than anything, and you could feel the emotional distance growing between you.

“Ace,” you began, your voice quieter now, though still edged with anger. “I’m not going to keep fighting with you like this. If you want to think that I’m the problem here, then fine. Do whatever you want. But I won’t be dragged down by your jealousy. I won’t.”

You turned to walk away, but Ace’s harsh voice stopped you. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Don’t you dare walk away from me when I’m trying to make sense of this! Don’t pretend like you’re innocent in all of this!”

You didn’t stop. You kept walking, not giving him another glance. If he couldn’t see how much you loved him, if he couldn’t get over his own jealousy, there was nothing more you could say.

And in that moment, the distance between you and Ace felt wider than it ever had.

----

The moment Ace walked away, everything felt cold. You didn’t know how long you stood there, just staring at the spot where he had left you. Your hand was still aching from his grip, but it was the sting in your chest that hurt more. He didn’t trust you, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

You didn’t want to cry, but the tears started anyway. It wasn’t just that he’d been angry—it was the way he’d accused you, made you feel like you weren’t good enough for him. His words burned like fire in your mind, and they refused to go away. You rubbed your eyes furiously, wishing it would stop, but it didn’t.

You made your way below deck, avoiding anyone’s eyes. But even in the silence, the weight of Ace’s accusations pressed against your chest.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden floor interrupted your thoughts, but you didn’t look up.

“Ace…” you whispered, voice barely audible, as you heard him stand in front of you. His figure towered over you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

He stood there for a long moment before letting out a long sigh.

“I messed up.” His voice was quieter now, filled with regret.

You didn’t answer right away, the hurt still raw. He continued, as if to reassure you.

“I know I was harsh,” he said softly. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

You finally looked up, his face full of guilt. It wasn’t the same anger you had seen earlier, but it didn’t make it better.

“Ace, I don’t deserve that,” you said, your voice shaking. “You’ve been treating me like… like I’m the one doing something wrong. You don’t trust me.”

“I know,” Ace muttered. “I was jealous, and it made me stupid. I didn’t think. I just… acted.”

“You can’t just accuse me like that, Ace. I thought you knew me better than anyone.”

“I do,” he said quickly, kneeling in front of you. His voice cracked slightly. “I do know you. And I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why I overreacted like that. It’s just…” He paused, staring down at the floor, lost in thought. “I get scared sometimes, you know? That you’ll leave me. Or that I’m not good enough.”

His words were quieter now, as if speaking them made the weight of them hit him too.

You swallowed hard, still trying to hold yourself together. “It’s not about you not being good enough, Ace. But you made me feel like I was the problem.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. I promise. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

He reached out then, carefully pulling you into a hug. His arms were warm around you, and despite everything, it felt like home.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Ace whispered against your ear. “Just... please don’t leave me.”

----

Later that evening, Ace approached you once again. He wasn’t going to let this slide with just words. This time, he was determined to show you how much you meant to him.

He found you on the deck, staring out at the sea. The sunset had painted the sky in shades of orange and pink. He hesitated for a moment, but then walked up to you, standing still for a few seconds before quietly sitting beside you.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About how I’ve treated you,” Ace started, his voice calm but serious. He wasn’t going to let this be a quick fix. He had to prove he was serious. “I was an idiot before.”

You didn’t respond right away, but you didn’t pull away either, so he took that as his sign to continue.

“You deserve better than me just saying ‘sorry,’” Ace continued, looking at you with those soft, apologetic eyes. “I want to show you, not just tell you.”

Without waiting for a response, Ace stood up and reached into his jacket, pulling out something small wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped it carefully, revealing a beautiful hand-carved wooden pendant—one shaped like a flame, a piece of his own soul carved into it. He placed it in your hand, his palm warm against yours.

“I made this for you,” Ace explained, his voice low. “It’s not much, but it’s a reminder. Every time you look at it, I want you to remember that I’m here. I’m trying to be better. For you.”

You stared at the pendant, surprised that Ace had gone this far. He wasn’t known for his sentimental side, and seeing him take the time to make something so personal was a first.

But that wasn’t all.

Ace lowered himself to one knee, taking your hands in his, his usual cocky grin gone, replaced by something deeper. “I’m not perfect. Hell, I’m far from it. But I’m gonna fight for you, every damn day, if it means showing you that you’re mine and that I don’t take you for granted.”

His eyes held sincerity, not just for a moment but for what felt like eternity. He wasn’t asking for immediate forgiveness; he was showing you that he understood the weight of what he’d done, and he was willing to carry that burden.

“I’ll be better. I’ll prove it to you, one step at a time,” Ace added, squeezing your hands gently. “I’m not gonna run from it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You felt the weight of his words settle between you, but it was the actions—the carving, the kneeling, the rawness of his apology—that made the difference.

And in that moment, something shifted. His effort wasn’t just in the words, but in the way he had approached everything differently. The care, the vulnerability, the openness—it was something you hadn’t seen from Ace in this way before.

“Thank you,” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze.

Ace’s face softened, and he pulled you into his arms gently. “I’ll never stop showing you, okay? I’ll never stop trying.”

You could feel the warmth of his embrace, but it was different now—sincere, unwavering, and full of effort. He wasn’t perfect, but this was the Ace you had always known, the one who, when he cared, gave everything he had.

“I know you won’t,” you murmured, resting your head against his chest, knowing that even in his flaws, Ace’s heart was real and his effort was exactly what you needed.

----

Law

You were in the medical bay, carefully organizing the supplies, running through the routine tasks that kept you busy and, for the moment, kept your mind off the chaos of being aboard the Polar Tang. The quiet buzz of the ship’s engine was a subtle backdrop, almost soothing, but it wasn’t long before Law entered, his heavy boots echoing in the small space.

“Are you seriously doing this now?” His voice cut through the silence like a blade.

You turned, surprised to see him standing there with his arms crossed, a frustrated look on his face. "What? I’m just getting the medical supplies organized," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. You had been with him long enough to know when something was off, and you could feel the tension in the air.

Law didn’t even spare a glance at the supplies. Instead, his eyes were fixed on you, sharp as ever. “It’s a waste of time. Don’t you have something more important to do?”

You blinked, taken aback. “What’s wrong with organizing the medical supplies? We can’t afford to let things get disorganized—especially if someone gets hurt. You should know that.”

His lips curled into a sneer. “This again? All you ever seem to do is waste time in here. We have real problems going on, and here you are, playing nursemaid.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you tried to stay calm. “I’m not just playing nursemaid, Law. This is a crucial part of the crew’s well-being. You might not see it, but when someone gets injured, we need everything in place.”

Law snorted, walking further into the room with no regard for the way his presence weighed on you. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve been the one patching up the crew for years. I don’t need some reminder of how ‘important’ this is.”

His eyes glinted with something cold, making you feel like you were the one being irrational. “And yet, every time I come in here, I see you fiddling with bandages and vials like it’s some hobby. Maybe if you spent more time actually being useful, we wouldn’t be in half the mess we’re in now.”

You felt a rush of heat flood your face, your patience wearing thin. “Useful? I’m always useful, Law! You’ve never seen me just sit around and do nothing. I’ve been with you through thick and thin. What the hell is your problem today?”

Law didn’t flinch, his gaze cold and hard. “You’ve been off lately, not getting your hands dirty, avoiding the real work. Every time I turn around, you’re in here with your head buried in paperwork or fiddling with stuff that doesn’t matter. Are you even trying to help anymore, or is this your way of slacking off?”

You felt your pulse quicken, the sharpness of his words stinging like a slap across the face. “You know what? I don’t need this right now. I’m trying to do my best, but I guess that’s never good enough for you, huh?” You crossed your arms, pushing back the feeling of betrayal that crept up your throat.

“I don’t need your excuses,” Law replied, his voice colder than before. “You know what this crew is like, and you know what’s at stake. The sooner you stop pretending like this is all a game, the better.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “I’m done here.”

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, stunned. You stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.

You sat alone in your room, staring at the wooden floorboards, your mind replaying the harsh words from earlier. His anger had caught you off guard, and it stung in ways you didn’t expect. You’d never seen him like that—so cold, so dismissive. What had you done wrong?

You hadn’t meant to upset him, not at all. You were only trying to help, to get through to him, but it seemed like he didn’t want to hear it. The more you thought about it, the more it hurt. Was this how he really saw you? Was everything you did so easily misinterpreted?

The tears came, slowly at first, then in a rush, spilling down your cheeks as the weight of the argument settled in. You wiped at your face, trying to push back the emotions, but it was useless. His words lingered in your chest, heavy and suffocating.

You felt small in that moment. Small and insignificant. He wasn’t the kind of man who wore his feelings openly, but you thought—no, you hoped—that maybe, just maybe, he’d let you in. Now, all you had were the fragments of a conversation that had broken everything apart.

You stood up abruptly, wiping your eyes and trying to pull yourself together. There was no point in crying, not now. But the silence in the room felt like a weight you couldn’t escape, and your heart ached in a way it never had before.

----

The next morning, the air between you and Law was thick with silence. It felt like a weight neither of you wanted to lift, but both of you knew it needed to be addressed.

You walked down the corridor of the ship, your mind replaying everything that had happened last night. His words, his cold tone, and how they made you feel—like an afterthought, like your feelings didn’t matter. You needed to shake it off, but it lingered.

As you neared the deck, you saw Law standing near the railing, staring out at the horizon. His usual composure was gone. There was something about the way he stood there—quiet, almost brooding—that made your chest tighten.

You stopped a few paces away, unsure whether you should approach or just walk by. But you didn't want this hanging over you any longer. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way toward him.

Law didn’t acknowledge you at first. His gaze remained on the horizon, but there was a noticeable shift in the air as you got closer.

“You were right to be angry last night,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. The words caught you off guard.

You blinked, surprised by his bluntness. “What do you mean?”

He exhaled slowly, his hands gripping the railing a little tighter. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I was out of line. I made you feel like your feelings didn’t matter, and I… I don’t want to make you feel that way again.”

There was no excuse, no deflection. He didn’t try to rationalize it. The rawness of his admission made something in your chest loosen.

“You fucked up,” you said, voice low but steady. “It wasn’t just about the words, it’s about how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t… important to you.”

“I know,” Law replied quietly, his voice carrying more regret than you had ever heard. “And I don’t want you to feel like that, not ever. I don’t want to make excuses… but I’ve been so caught up in my own shit that I couldn’t see what I was doing to you.”

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. His words were hard to process, but there was something in them that felt different—something that wasn’t typical of Law.

He met your gaze, and for a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the waves. “I won’t pretend I know how to do this right, but I will try. And I’ll show you through my actions, not just words.”

You hesitated, still feeling the weight of everything. “Actions? Like what?”

Law's gaze softened, and he stepped away from the railing, facing you fully. “Tonight… let’s take a break from the ship. No work. Just us. We can go somewhere quiet, somewhere we don’t have to worry about anything else. I’ll listen, I’ll be present. You deserve that, and I want to show you I can do better.”

The sincerity in his voice made you pause, the hesitation in your chest slowly melting away.

He didn’t need to explain it further; you could see the change in his expression, the way his eyes weren’t as guarded. The rawness of his apology spoke volumes, and his willingness to make an effort, to actually show you, made you feel something different—hope, maybe.

The night came, and as promised, Law took you somewhere away from the hustle of the ship. The moment felt intimate, unspoken, and just… peaceful. You didn’t have to say much; the quiet between you two now felt like understanding, not tension. No grand gestures. Just time spent together, away from the chaos, showing each other what words sometimes couldn’t express.

----

Mihawk

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its pale light across the castle grounds as the night stretched on. You stood near the balcony, overlooking the vast, quiet expanse of Kuraigana Island, trying to ease the tension that had been building between you and Mihawk for days. You didn’t understand it. He had always been quiet, always withdrawn, but this... this was different.

You had tried to speak to him earlier, but each time, he shut you down.

You walked up to him now, your voice breaking the silence of the night. “Mihawk,” you started softly, “we need to talk.”

Mihawk didn’t even look up from his sword. His posture was perfect, as always, but his eyes were distant. “I’m not in the mood for a conversation.”

Your stomach twisted. “You’ve been like this for days. I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore.”

“I told you, nothing is wrong.” Mihawk’s tone was clipped, cold.

You stepped closer, frustration rising. “That’s not true. You’ve been shutting me out. You barely say anything when I’m around. It’s like you don’t even want me here.”

He sighed, setting the sword down on the stone table, the movement deliberate, almost as though he was choosing his next words with care. “I’ve been thinking.”

You crossed your arms, taking a step toward him. “About?”

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze dark and contemplative. “About this whole… situation.” He gestured vaguely toward the castle, as if the whole life they led was part of the problem. “About us.”

You frowned, stepping closer still. “Us?”

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation was headed, but he kept going. “I’m not the kind of person who… needs company. I don’t need someone hovering over me, asking questions all the time.”

Your chest tightened, and you could feel the sting of those words more than you cared to admit. You’d always known Mihawk was a man of few words, but hearing him say it like this hit harder than expected. “So, what? You’re saying I’m annoying?”

Mihawk’s gaze flickered briefly to your face before he looked away, uncomfortable. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, Mihawk?” you pressed, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because that sure as hell sounds like you’re pushing me away.”

He stood up straighter, his eyes hardening for a moment, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—something raw, something almost vulnerable. “I’m not pushing you away,” he muttered, though the words sounded like they were meant more for himself than for you. “I just… don’t know how to let people in.”

You stepped back, a sharp breath leaving your lips. His words were a dagger in your chest. “You don’t have to be perfect, Mihawk. But this… this is just too much.”

His face hardened again, the vulnerability disappearing behind that familiar, cold mask. “I didn’t ask for your sympathy.”

You recoiled, shaking your head. “It’s not sympathy, Mihawk. I’m trying to be here for you, but you won’t let me. You keep pushing me away.”

There was a long silence between you, the kind that stretched out too long, too thick to ignore. Mihawk stared at the floor, visibly struggling with something you couldn’t quite understand.

Finally, he sighed, his voice barely a whisper. “Maybe I’m better off alone.”

Your heart shattered with those words. The finality of them, the coldness, the impossibility of it, made it harder to breathe. You turned quickly, not wanting him to see the sting of his words on your face.

Without another word, you walked off, your steps heavy and purposeful.

----

You didn’t wait for him to speak. You didn’t need to. Mihawk’s words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating everything between you. “Maybe I’m better off alone.”

You walked away before the sting of his words could settle, the sharp edge of them cutting through your chest. You didn’t care that he was still standing there, staring after you.

Your feet took you to your room in the castle, but even as you closed the door behind you, the world outside seemed to close in. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at your hands, trying to push the burn behind your eyes. But it was useless. The tears came, slow at first, then faster. You pressed your palms against your face, desperate to stop them, but they kept coming.

Why? Why did he say that?

Your heart ached, and you couldn’t figure out what hurt more—the words themselves or the realization that he didn’t want you around. Mihawk. The man who had kept everyone at a distance. The one who had never once asked for anything. And you—you—had thought maybe you could be the one person to change that. But you were wrong.

----

Meanwhile, Mihawk sat in his study, his mind tangled in his own thoughts. He stared out at the night sky, trying to drown out the regret gnawing at him. What have I done?

He had never been good with people, never good with emotions. I didn’t mean it. She shouldn’t have to feel like that.

His words had come out too easily, without thinking. He had pushed you away when all you had done was show him care, patience... love.

He let out a frustrated breath, the weight of his mistake pressing harder on him. She doesn’t deserve this.

He rose from his seat, walking to the window, gripping the ledge with clenched fists. What now? He had always been alone, but the thought of you not being there, of losing what little connection he had with you, hurt more than he could admit. He wasn’t sure how to fix it. He never knew how to fix things.

She’s not going to forgive me easily, is she? He sighed, the silence in the air heavier than the night sky before him. I have to make this right... somehow.

----

The following morning, Mihawk woke with a single thought in mind. He couldn’t stand the tension, the silence between you two. The words from the night before echoed in his head, but now all he could focus on was the idea of making things right.

You were still distant, and he knew he couldn’t just speak his way out of it. He had to show you, to prove that he cared, even if he had never learned how to express it properly.

He moved to the kitchen of his castle early that morning, preparing a quiet breakfast, his hands methodical as he selected fresh ingredients from his garden. He was no stranger to cooking—having lived alone for so many years meant he’d developed the skill, even if he didn’t often share it with anyone. But this time, it wasn’t about the food. It was about showing you, in his own way, that he didn’t want to lose you.

Mihawk worked in silence, chopping vegetables and herbs, carefully preparing a dish that, though simple, was made with genuine effort. He took his time—something rare for him, but he knew it was necessary.

Once everything was ready, he set the table, the soft clink of porcelain and silverware the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

After a long moment, he took a breath, walked down the hall, and knocked on your door.

“Y/N,” Mihawk’s voice was quieter than usual, almost tentative. “I’ve made something. For you.”

You were sitting at the small desk by the window when you heard him. You turned slowly, your expression unreadable, and saw him standing there with a plate of food in his hands.

For a moment, there was silence between you, and Mihawk seemed to hesitate, unsure how to approach you. Then, finally, he stepped forward, setting the plate down on the small table beside you.

“I... I don’t know if this is what you wanted, but it’s what I could do,” Mihawk said, his voice steady but softer than usual. “I’m not good with words, but I wanted to show you I’m sorry.”

You stared at the plate for a moment, then back at him. You could see the subtle shift in his demeanor—his posture was less rigid, his expression more vulnerable than you’d ever seen before. You hadn’t expected this. He was never one to cook, and yet, here he was—offering you something he had prepared himself.

Tentatively, you reached for the fork, your fingers brushing against his as you took a bite. The taste was simple—fresh vegetables, some herbs—but it was good. Better than you expected, considering Mihawk's usual reliance on swords rather than culinary skills.

“It’s... really good,” you said softly, your gaze lifting to meet his.

Mihawk’s features softened, and for the first time, a small smile played at the corners of his lips. “I wanted to do something... something more than just apologizing. Words aren’t enough.”

You set the fork down, your hand resting on the table between you. “Mihawk,” you began, your voice barely a whisper, “I know you don’t always know how to show it. But you don’t have to shut me out. I just... I want to be here for you.”

Mihawk stood still for a moment, looking at you, taking in your words. It wasn’t easy for him to admit his feelings, but here, now, in the quiet of his castle, he finally let his guard down, even if just a little.

“I... don’t know how to do this,” he said slowly, his voice low. “But I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

You smiled, reaching out to touch his hand gently. “You don’t have to be perfect. Just be honest with me. That’s all I want.”

For the first time, Mihawk let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as he sat down beside you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes.

“I will,” Mihawk said, his voice steady now. “I will try, Y/N. I’ll try harder.”

And in that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of a simple meal and the weight of unspoken promises, you both knew that this was just the beginning—Mihawk, for the first time, letting someone in, and you, ready to stay by his side, no matter how hard the journey ahead might be.

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emmylksblog · 3 days ago

Text

MY WARRIOR // PAU CUBARSÍ

summary: after pau gets injured during a match, you do everything you can to support, even if he gave you the scare of your life

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: none, just mentions of blood and the injury not too descriptive

a/n: been in my drafts since it happened, now it's proofread i guess. am i wrong if i say he's hot in that pic? like i know he's injured but who gave him the right to look this good with smeared blood all over his face omg

You already had a feeling today wasn’t going to go well. You’d woken up late, barely made it to your exam, and it went terribly despite all the nights you spent studying. To make things worse, your week was just starting and you still had another exam on Thursday. Frustrated, you left university early to rest a bit before continuing to study… only to find out the buses were on strike. Your phone was at 5%, and it felt like the universe was laughing in your face. Desperate, you called a friend, and thankfully, they picked up and offered to take you home. Once there, you showered, ate, and passed out on your bed for what you thought would be a short nap…

3 hours later…

You woke up groggy, the kind of nap that feels more like getting hit by a truck. Your phone, now charging, buzzed nonstop. You grabbed it, heart racing when you saw it was Fermín calling, as it was very unusual for him to call instead of texting. You answered immediately, still disoriented, and waited in silence for him to speak. A chill ran down your spine.

“Hey, just calling to let you know Pau had to get stitches on his face. He tried calling you before going in, but you didn’t answer, so I thought I should try.”

Your brain froze. What?

“What happened to him?!” you asked, voice rising in panic as you rushed to get dressed, putting him on speaker. Fermín explained that during the match against Estrella Roja, a player went straight for Pau’s face instead of the ball, cutting him along the jaw with his boots. By the time he finished talking, you were already in a taxi headed to the hospital he mentioned.

Your heart was pounding. You kept picturing Pau, your strong boyfriend who always smiled, covered in blood and scared. The thought of him being alone in that room made you feel sick. If only you hadn’t fallen asleep… maybe you could’ve been there to calm him down. According to Fermín, only the team’s staff had been able to go with him; his parents were still in Girona and wouldn´t make it on time till tomorrow.

Your footsteps echoed down the sterile hospital hallway until you reached the room. The moment you stepped in, your whole body tensed. Pau was lying in bed, half his face bandaged, the other still stained with blood. Your heart dropped. And yet, he smiled at you.

You couldn’t believe it. He was smiling.

In two quick steps, you were at his side, pulling him into a tight hug as tears streamed down your face.

“Stop smiling, idiot… it’s only gonna hurt more,” you sobbed, running your hand down his back. You could feel his jersey under your touch and were relieved that he came straight from the game.

“I’m fine, love… it’s just a scratch. Comes with the job, you know that,” he whispered into your ear, struggling to speak but still trying to comfort you.

“Pau, don’t try to calm me down when you’re the one looking like this,” you said, pulling back to meet his eyes, barely holding back your tears. Pau didn’t respond, maybe because he agreed, maybe because his jaw hurt too much.

The team staff member came in with the doctor’s update: Pau needed rest and shouldn’t chew anything hard for a while to avoid reopening the stitches. You paid close attention, determined to follow every instruction once you got him home.

You ended up going to Pau’s place, you already had clothes and essentials there from the nights you stayed over. While he took a shower, you got to work making soup so he wouldn’t have to chew.

You expected to feel his arms wrap around you from behind like he always did, but that hug never came. When you turned around, drying your hands, you saw him sitting on the couch, head down, hands fidgeting.

The energy in the room had sunk into the floor. You’d never seen Pau this sad. Always smiling, always keeping it together. But you knew the real him, the one who carried more than he ever let on. And you knew he struggled to show vulnerability, even with you.

You walked over quietly, knelt in front of him, and gently took his hands to stop their anxious movements.

“Pau… look at me,” you said softly.

He winced at your voice, shutting his eyes tightly, like he was bracing for impact. But you just watched him with your heart aching, seeing him fight back the tears like always. You’d told him before that it was okay to be vulnerable with you, that you’d carry each other’s burdens. But he never wanted to be a weight on anyone.

“You can cry, Pau,” you whispered, your brow furrowed as your own tears welled up.

He gripped your hands tightly, then slowly slid off the couch and into your arms, burying his face in your neck. You froze for a moment, not expecting him to let go so quickly. Then you wrapped him tightly in your arms, brushing his hair gently and whispering how brave he was, how proud you were of him.

“You’re a warrior, Pau. Barça wouldn’t be what it is without players like you. I know you live for the colors, and I admire that, but I hope this helps you see it’s okay to be careful too. Think of yourself, just a little.”

You pulled back gently, cupped his face carefully, and looked into his teary eyes to make sure he heard you loud and clear. My poor baby.

“Don’t say anything, okay? Your jaw must be swollen. I’ll get you some ice later,” you said when he tried to respond. “Tonight, your only job is to say yes or no to my excellent nursing services 'kay?”

He almost smiled, but winced at the pain. You chuckled.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop being funny for your sake,” you teased, giving him a kiss on the nose, then one on his uninjured cheek. You leaned in slowly and kissed the stitched side too, praying it didn’t hurt. Pau exhaled deeply, like he’d needed that more than anything.

He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and looked at you with so much love, then pointed at himself, then you, and made a heart with his hands.

“I love you.” You understood instantly and melted right there.

“I love you too, idiot. Even if your way of playing scares the hell out of me.”

You kissed him gently on the lips, careful not to hurt him, but when he kissed back, you leaned in with more confidence, your hands on his chest and his on your waist. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and stroked his neck, listening to his calm breathing. His grip on your waist tightened with affection, and you wiped the rest of his tears away.

Remembering the doctor’s instructions, you took his hands and guided him to let go.

“I know it’s hard to let go of me,” you joked, smiling when he resisted. “But I’ve gotta check the soup. I’ll be fast.”

Pau nodded, already missing your warmth. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you. You reminded him of who he was, something easy to forget in moments like this. He thought you were perfect for him.

He smiled softly at the thought, interrupted when you returned with a tray: a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and his meds.

“Alright, pretty boy, I hope you finish this as fast as you throw yourself into tackles on the field,” you joked, sitting down next to him on the carpet.

“Thank you,” he whispered, trying not to move his jaw too much.

“De nada, amor. Want me to help?”

He shook his head, took the spoon from your hand, and kissed it as if saying 'don't-worry-i-got-it'.

After a quiet, comforting dinner, you both headed upstairs to sleep. You changed into your usual “pajamas”, a pair of shorts and one of Pau’s black Nike shirts. You breathed in his scent like it was medicine.

In the bathroom, you found him wincing every time his toothbrush brushed the left side of his mouth. He turned and winked at you when he noticed you watching.

“I can’t imagine how much that hurts, and you’re still brushing your teeth? You know I’ll love you even if your breath stinks, right?” you teased, grabbing your pink toothbrush and gently nudging him with your hip.

Pau chuckled lowly at your antics, turning his head with a small, pained smile.

After doing your little silly dances in front of the mirror, you both rinsed and headed to bed, Pau wrapping his arms around you from behind on the way.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered in your ear. He loved how his t-shirts looked on you, it drove him crazy. He would’ve shown you just how much he would love to see you without it, but with how exhausted he was, he settled for soft kisses that didn’t hurt too much.

Snuggled up in bed, with him still holding you from behind, you both warmed up instantly under the covers. Taking advantage of the position, Pau gently moved your hair aside and placed little kisses on the back of your neck. It tickled, but you tried not to move too much, though you couldn't hold in the giggle. He loved that sound when it came from you.

“I love you,” he said after pressing his lips to your neck a little longer. It sounded so genuine it made your chest tighten with emotion. You turned around to face him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I love you too, mi guerrero,” you murmured, resting your head on his chest, enjoying the way his hands instinctively wrapped around you. He turned off the light and tucked you in better, caressing your back in the process. (my warrior)

Pau knew that with you by his side, he could throw himself a thousand more times on the field without fear, because no matter what, you’d be there, supporting him. And you were just as sure that you would do it again and again, even if it meant worrying about him.

#fc barcelona x reader #fcb x reader #footballer x reader #pau cubarsi x reader #pau cubarsi #pau cubarsí x you #footballer x y/n #fc barcelona #barça #fluff

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giuliannna · 1 day ago

Text

YOUR FIRST MEETUP WITH DEALER ! HAMZAH ࿐

buying drugs for parties isn’t usually your job.

you’re not even sure why you said yes.

you’re more of the type to take whatever you can get out of the stuff that everyone else brings - and more often than not, you sneak some into your purse to bring home.

but when your friends gave you those pleading looks, practically shoving the cash into your hand, asking you to pick up the weed, you caved.

now, here you are, makeup done, lip gloss intact, dress riding high on your thighs, walking through the more deserted, sketchier side of town.

everyone says that he’s the best. hamzah - the drug dealer that people swear by. pretty much anyone who smokes is a client of his, because he’s the only guy who won’t try to bleed you dry. it sounds like he actually cares about the people he sells to.

“he’s super chill, just.. a little awkward,” your friend had warned, laughing as she typed his number into your phone. “you’ll see.”

you feel your unsettled nerves beneath your skin. you pull up the address he sent you - unfortunately, you’re definitely at the right place. your eyes skim the area, noticing only one other car - a porsche, sitting idly in the distance at the far side of the parking lot.

you scroll to his last text: ‘i’ll be around the back.’

glancing up from your phone, you step closer to the building that looks half-abandoned, paint peeling from the edges.

you hover near, shifting your weight, checking your reflection in the screen of your phone. you still look good, even if you feel a little ridiculous standing here, looking this dolled up just for some weed pickup.

you sigh softly and round the corner toward the backside of the building.

the first thing you see is his hair. it’s messy. dark brown curls falling into his eyes. his hoodie hangs loose on his frame. he hears your footsteps and looks up from his phone.

he blinks at you, a little too slow, and you catch the faint red tint to his eyes. he’s high.

“uh, hey,” he says as you approach, voice low and a little hoarse like he hasn’t spoken much today. he rubs the back of his neck, looking nervous, his mouth pulling into a small half-grin. “i’m hamzah.”

you cut him off with a smile of your own. “i know. everyone told me about you.”

he quickly averts his gaze to the ground, his cheeks suddenly blooming pink, a flush that creeps all the way to his ears. he shifts his weight from foot to foot like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“uh,” you laugh gently after a beat of silence. “i think i’m here to get something from you, y’know.”

“right.” he coughs. “right. cool. yeah,” he stumbles, fishing into his pocket for a little baggie. his fingers fumble with it, almost dropping it twice before he finally manages to hand it over. “here.”

you take it, fingers brushing his, and he damn near flinches like you gave him an electric shock.

god, he’s a mess.

but he’s pretty.

so pretty it’s kind of unfair - soft features, perfectly carved lips, and deep brown eyes under lashes so long it looks like he’s wearing more mascara than you are. it’s all sort of hard to ignore.

especially when he’s looking at you like he can’t believe you’re real right now, like he’s just hallucinating the new customer of his dreams.

“thanks,” you say, voice a little sweeter than necessary.

he’s still staring wordlessly when you dig into the neckline of your dress, sliding two fingers in. you pull out a folded wad of cash - a little wrinkled, a little stuck-together from sitting against your skin - and hold it out to him.

“that should be enough. keep the extra, if there is any.” you offer with another smile.

his eyes dart to your chest, then to the money, then back to your face like he’s terrified of getting caught looking. he takes it with a shaky hand, fingers bumping against yours again, even more careful this time like he’s afraid to touch you wrong.

“uh - thanks,” he mumbles, clutching the bills tight against his palm, crumpling them.

you glance at him once more, a flicker of amusement in your eyes. he’s just standing there, like he doesn’t know if the transaction is over or if he should say something else - like maybe, he doesn’t want you to leave yet.

“well, i’ll see you around,” you murmur, giving him a quick once-over. “it was.. nice meeting you.”

his mouth opens, like he’s going to say something, then it closes again. he gives a quick, jerky nod instead. his eyes are wide and he looks a little dazed, like his brain’s trying to catch up with the way your presence is affecting him.

“yeah,” he manages. “i mean, you too. it was - yeah. see you.”

you turn, kitten heels clicking softly on the pavement. the weight of his gaze heavy on your back. you can feel it - the way his eyes stick to you as you walk away.

he watches you disappear around the corner, fingers still curled tight around the crumpled bills, not wanting to acknowledge how his heart is skipping beats in his chest.

xoxo giulia

TAGLIST: @gulicore @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @h-yalexaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @thefantastickid @hamzaholic @isathefantastic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20 @ottakugirl @hamzahsbestone @pulcen @rustnroll @venus-planetof-love @hamzahsn1gf @rock678 @wandas-lovey @guiltyfemcel @axetheboyboss @harrys0nlyange1 @ttlynotme @yassqueen1303 @animalcrossingshameless @bigmamaelli @hamzahsbaby

#giulianna ⁀➴#dealerhamzah ༄#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah imagines #hamzah fic #hamzah x reader

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seoulmatez · 12 hours ago

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𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓎

the weather makes for a perfect pool day but nagi isn't so eager to join you.

nagi seishiro x reader ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ some suggestive bits

It’s a wonder, you think, to have gotten Nagi out in this weather.

It’s perfect; the sun shines without a cloud in the sky and it’s just warm enough for a dip in the pool to be refreshing. You’ve been enjoying swimming from end to end and leisurely floating about but Nagi hasn’t joined you, choosing to simply sit at the edge with his feet dangling in the crystal blue pool. The water only reaches his calves, though, he seems content lounging there with your shared bowl of fruit and his weekly issue of shonen jump.

You kick off the wall and paddle over to him, situating yourself between his legs. Your presence, or maybe your wet hands slipping under his trunks to rest on his thighs, pulls Nagi’s attention away from his manga and it instead turns to you.

His powder-white hair looks even lighter under the sun, long strands brushing the tip of his nose as he stares down at you. It draws your focus to a smear of sunscreen that the man didn’t rub in all the way and you reach up to finish the job for him. The skin of his cheek is warm beneath your hand, much warmer than he usually is when he’s tucked into your side or splayed on top of you.

“You doing okay over here?” you ask him, trying to brush the fluffy hair out of his face. Your attempts are for naught as the tufts continue to find their way back to his forehead.

Nagi hums and nods his head, setting his book to the side in favor of picking up the bowl of fruit the two of you had prepared earlier. He picks through the variety of colorful pieces in search of a grape, pulling one out and popping it into his mouth. One of his cheeks puffs out as he holds the fruit there before beginning to chew. Kindly, he picks up a cube of watermelon and holds it up to your lips.

You part them, letting nagi feed you the fruit, gently kissing the pad of his finger before he pulls away. It’s nice, taking a moment to relax with your lover somewhere other than in bed or on the couch. The only thing that could make the casual occasion better is if Nagi joined you in the pool. You swallow, squeezing his thighs with a smile. “You should get in. It feels really nice.”

The man takes a look at the barely there ripples in the water before his chocolatey eyes land on you once more. You can see the apprehension swimming in them before he even speaks. “I don’t know… it’s kind of cold.”

You breathe out a laugh, resting your chin on his knee. He has always preferred the heat of onsens or the warmth of your shared baths. “That’s kind of the point, babe. come on, it’ll warm up quicker than you think.”

His lips pout out like he doesn’t believe you. At this rate, you’ll spend all day trying to convince him to dip more than his toes in the water. An impish thought crosses your mind and it takes you only a second to commit to it. You lift your hands from his thighs to interlace his fingers with your own before pulling back and tugging the man into the water.

A large, noisy splash precedes Nagi’s plunge. He emerges quickly, a look of shock that you rarely have the opportunity to see painted on his face. His brown eyes are wide behind the wet, white hair sticking to his face and his mouth hangs open in disbelief. He looks like a drenched kitten. You laugh behind your hand at his reaction before closing the small gap between the two of you.

“You’re crazy,” Nagi says, pushing his hair back so that he can see clearly. It finally stays, though, a few pieces stick up haphazardly. The sight only makes you smile more.

Your hands come to sit on his hips, fingers fiddling with the elastic waistband of his trunks. You try to wipe the smile from your face but it lingers with your next words. “Sorry. desperate times, desperate measures.”

Nagi clicks his tongue but the annoyance usually associated with the action isn’t there—he can’t be upset when it’s you. What’s there to be bothered about if it means being close to you and seeing the smile he fell in love with?

A gust of wind makes him shiver and draws the single complaint he can muster up from his lips. “It’s freezing.”

Ever so dramatic. Although, you do feel a bit guilty considering you dragged him in so suddenly. He’s shuddering in your loose hold. It’ll only take a couple of minutes before he’s adjusted to the cool water but there’s no harm in speeding the process up and what you have in mind should be rather enjoyable for the both of you.

You clasp your hands at the back of his neck, beads of water dripping down Nagi's shoulders and chest before disappearing into the mass once again. This close and under the summer sun, you can see the sparse dusting of freckles tinting the bridge of his nose. You bump the tip of your nose against his, peering up at him through your eyelashes. “My poor baby. Want a kiss to warm you up?”

Nagi visibly perks up at your suggestion and nods, hands moving through the water to find a home on your waist. His thumbs brush your sides before he dips his head down to capture your lips in a kiss.

As though your lips are sweeter than candy, Nagi moans into your mouth, tenderly squeezing your midsection as he drinks you in. It heats him up from the inside out, his skin warming with each second your soft lips are pressed against his. He’d kiss you forever if he could but he has to pull away to take a breath—what a pain.

“All better?” you inquire, letting your fingers run through his slowly drying hair.

“I think i need another one.” His hands slide down from your waist, over your hips, and to the back of your thighs. With a firm grip, he hoists you up. The unexpected motion elicits a surprised squeal from you but you easily wrap your legs around him as you’re sure he intended. He tips his head up to meet your eye, a sparkle of need glimmering in his own. “Or maybe two.”

A grin tugs at your lips. “Take all you need.”

sua here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#scribbles ᝰ.ᐟ #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #nagi fluff #blue lock fluff #bll fluff #— blue lock.

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returnofeternity · 2 days ago

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the butchfemme of it all with lucy maclean....

· · ☢︎ · ·

you often take up the more 'masculine' jobs at the shelter, usually on tech or repair most of the time. lucy really likes it when she swings by on her break from activities to come to see you, and you have your suit tied around your waist. she unabashedly stares. always feels up your muscles and seems to stare at your dirty wife pleaser stained with grease rather than your eyes. sometimes you'll switch with her though. you'll take up gardening or gymnastics while she does repair. she thinks it's a nice exercise to connect with your feminine side while she connects with her masculine side :) something like that!

she loves it when you participate in the family book club! she's just a smiley little thing as you gush about how good the book is so far and when you go into detail about the subtext in the chapter you all just read. she really enjoys deep conversations like this with you. norman is just happy that you're keeping lucy distracted enough so she doesn't notice him being quiet... but anything family time with you, she adores!!! 'walks' and movies with her dad and you? she loves watching you bond together! she starts geeking when you tell her you're coming over for dinner tonight instead of having it with your parents in your vault.

moving in with her after getting married !!! first of all, you have to ask her father. even though you have a good relationship with him, it's still daunting. you got the ring from your mother after you told her you were planning on proposing to lucy. it's your grandmother's, something your mom kept during the war. hank kind of interrogates you, raising his brow and asking why he should give his permission with this look on his face that makes you start to sweat. he's joking of course, and bumps your shoulder with his fist like 'buds' do, and goes on about how you make lucy happy and that's the only thing he could ask for. you propose to lucy during one of your 'field' dates in one of the artificial rooms. you have a nice picnic with her, both of you feeding each other bits of your sandwiches and slowly lean into the proposal bit during the end. you start going on about how great your life has been since you've met her, complimenting how wonderful of a lover she is and you feel your heart warm at how she blushes and ducks her head down. you say you wanna spend the rest of your life with her, and she immediately agrees, probably cuts you off a little to ramble about what she wants to do when you guys get married 😭 you just smile and think about how happy she's gonna be in a few seconds when you pull out the ring. her eyes literally light up so brightly when you open the box and show her the ring, and she doesnt even let you get past "lucy maclean, will..." before she jumps up on her knees and crawls to you, repeating "yes, yes, yes" over again as she kisses you. she's crying as you put the ring on her finger, and you wipe her tears and kiss her until your lungs need air.

she almost faints when she sees you in the tux... she thinks you look so handsome and she almost wants to skip the "i do's" to drag you to her vault room and claim you. but she doesn't. she manages to keep her cool long enough to have that slow dance with you after you say the "i do's," and to cut the cake with you :) it's something she'll remember forever. you carry her back to her room with her in your arms, lucy mumbling about how strong you are while kissing your cheek and calling you her husbutch. she's just sooo excited to finally have married you and you're moving in!!!! after you plop her down in her room, she starts rambling about all the married couple things you guys can do. you just admire her for a while, nodding along and humming to her words you can't really understand because she looks so pretty, and you move her hair to the side so you can start kissing her neck and holding her waist as she tries to show you how the blender works.

but then you tell her that you really wanna complete the marriage with her, and she knows what that means. she turns and pulls you into a sloppy kiss, one that has her melting and her body convulsing as you nibble on her lips. she whines as she holds your face back with her hand around your jaw, whispering about how she wants to take it slow for a bit to enjoy this with you :( you nod, and after a while of passionate making out, she drags you to the bed, but before pushing you on it, she wants you to undress her. and she wants to undress you. it almost feels agonizingly slow as she peels off your jacket and tie, undoing your buttons one by one until she eventually just rips it off and kneels so she can kiss your stomach while removing your pants. your groan as she kisses the bulge of your strap makes her smirk, and she grips your hips as she pushes you to sit on the bed. she takes very good care of her butch that night, and you spoil your femme :)

thinking about using your handy repair skills the next morning after you guys fuck literally on every surface, and eventually end up breaking a chair :/ you move all the parts near the couch where lucy sits and watches tv, occasionally feeling her hand in your hair and scratching while she tells you how you're doing such a good job :3

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just-a-multi-fandom-mess · 3 days ago

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some of my personal favourites i don't think anyone's mentioned yet:

"all the beauty in the world was made in the oppressive limitations of time and death and impermanence"

"are we living a life that is safe from harm? of course not... but that's not the right question. the right question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?"

"we must be willing to face great challenges in order to achieve great things"

"look. up in the sky. it's a bird! it's a plane! no. it's just the void. infinite and indifferent. we're so small. so very very small"

"confused? at a loss for what to do? good job, sounds like you're human"

"and if you’re ever feeling lonely just look at the moon. someone, somewhere, is looking right at it too"

"you may not live through it. and if you do, the you that lived through it will not be the same you that lived before it. in that sense, you will definitely not exist after, and i’m sorry:

"and then the thing moves on. and you move on. and the event is behind you"

"you say your life is unravelling. your life cannot unravel. your life is your life. you haven’t lost it, it’s just different now"

"we wake up, we move on. no new state is our state forever. all is fleeting"

"nothing can be fully understood to be 'real.' any description of the world we give is simply the world we experience – which is to say, a narrative we force onto whatever horror or void lies behind the scrim of our perception"

"guns don't kill people, blood loss and organ damage do"

"you should relax more. it’s not that there’s nothing coming to get you, there’s everything coming to get you… but relax anyway, just on principle"

"what fantastical days those were! everything old is wonderful. it’s a shame anything had to change. i sure do dislike change. the sun has moved in the sky and i distrust it completely"

"there is a thin, semantic line between weird and beautiful, and that line is covered by jellyfish"

and, of course, last but most certainly not least, the classic "if you see something, say nothing, and drink to forget"

i quote the one about regret and indecision to myself all the time and honestly it's gotten me out of my comfort zone and into some great experiences so many times i greatly recommend it

I miss when everyone on my dash listened to Welcome to Night Vale so there’s be a good chance that on any ole day someone would reblog a quote that would grab me by the throat and forcibly ascend me to a higher plane where I understood myself and the universe better and with more kindness but also a little spook

#welcome to night vale #wtnv

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justwinginglife · 2 days ago

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A Messy Arrangement

@fiannee @94biscuits omg guys, I am so sorry I took so long writing another Gojo fic, but this one is finally finished! (More in the works).

Synopsis: Fuck boy Gojo is your roommate and you can't tell what's more frustrating: that he can't keep it in his goddamn pants or that you aren't the one in his pants. Word Count Estimate: 6300 Tags: Mutual Pining, Blow job, Oral sex, P in V, Friends/Enemies/Whatever The Fuck They Are to Lovers Warning: NSFW

“Would you keep your mouth shut next time ya fuck? You sound like a dying seal.”

It was 9am, the coffee was out, the toaster was fried to shit, you had no caffeine, no toast, and you were feeling particularly murderous this morning because you’d been yanked from sleep to listen to Satoru nearly break his creaky ass bed for the last THREE hours, moaning and groaning like he was a haunted treehouse.

You were seriously considering other living options at the moment.

Satoru grinned as he joined you at the kitchen counter, turning on the tap to collect himself a cup of water after his highly strenuous activities had come to their conclusion. “You’re just jealous, admit it.”

“Jealous? Of her? I’m surprised her eardrums didn’t shatter after she got a personal serenade of nails on a chalkboard.” You shot back.

He smirked. “Not of her. Of me.”

You raised an unamused brow at him. You shouldn’t be humoring him so early in the morning, but at least if he said some more bullshit then you had a decent reason to kill him. “And why would I be jealous of you?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe cuz I came like twenty times.”

You snorted. “It’s not that hard to make you come; I’m sure a bare ankle would do.”

He raised his chin to you snootily. “It takes skill to make a man come- something you would know nothing about.”

You crossed your arms. “You think I wouldn’t have you coming down my throat the second my tongue hit your tip?”

He huffed. “That’s not all it takes, you know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, right. I just pretend I’m gagging on your ‘huge’ dick, cough up a fake moan, add a little suction, and you’re putty in my hands. Or should I say, in my mouth?” His eyes narrowed in challenge. “Oh you talk a big game, but I bet you can’t back it up.”

You let out a short laugh before cracking your neck. “Alright. Drop your pants then, pretty boy.”

Satoru blinked. “What?”

“I said, drop your fucking pants. Underwear too.”

He eyed you warily, wondering if you were serious or if this was a joke. When he saw the look in your eyes, he slowly slid them down.

“C’mon grandma, we haven’t got all day.” You impatiently yanked his underwear off and began to stroke his cock. You pumped it in and out of your fist in rough, vigorous spurts.

He choked on his spit and gripped the kitchen counter for support.

You’d barely had it in your palm for very long before you wrapped your plush lips around his cock, tongue flicking over his swollen tip incessantly.

He bit his lip as his precum started trickling out of him, smearing itself all over your lips. When he finally got used to the rhythm of you fucking his cock with your mouth, you changed it up on him. You slammed your head forward and he hit the back of your throat in one violent motion.

“Shiiiiiiiiiit!” He hissed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He clenched his thighs around your neck, attempting to stop the flood that was coming, but it was to no avail.

He came down your throat right as last night’s fling walked into the kitchen.

“How could you, Gojo?!” She yanked off the shirt she’d borrowed from him and whipped it at his face before rushing off to collect her things from his room.

You smirked as you pulled away, licking your lips clean. “Aw, trouble in paradise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t you be at least a little sympathetic for me? Now I have to go after her.”

“I’m not sympathetic in the slightest.” You gave him a mocking pat on the shoulder. “Have fun, lover boy.”

He glared at you before hiking his pants back up and taking off.

For several hours, you had peace and quiet. It was almost like having your own apartment. You got your work done, finished your chores, and just overall enjoyed your day. You had been snacking on popcorn, just watching a movie on the couch when he finally burst through the doors again, ruining your perfect day. He was making out so heavily with a girl (a completely different girl than the one he’d chased after this morning), and devouring her so completely that you could barely see her face to tell that she was a different girl at all. Of course he always had to make an entrance. He drove you absolutely insane.

You cleared your throat loudly.

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Yumiko, meet my roommate.”

She gave a polite nod.

You looked her up and down. “Toru, you’re not going to want this one.”

Her eyes narrowed at your words.

He didn’t notice. He waved you away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about; we’re gonna have such a good time, aren’t we, baby?” He slung his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Later, roomie!” He shot you a peace sign before disappearing into his room with her.

You face-palmed. He’d be back out here soon. That girl was 50 shades of crazy and you could smell it on her. As much game as Satoru had, sometimes he acted like such a virgin. He wasn’t going to be able to handle her.

Unlike last night’s three hours, he was back out in five minutes.

You raised your head.

“Help me.” He mouthed.

You crossed your arms, amused, as you shook your head “No” at him. This was his mess; he could clean it up himself.

“Oh, Gojooooo!” She called to him, her voice getting louder as she made her way over to the living room.

“Please, I’m begging you.” He whispered.

You sighed, feeling somewhat bad for him. “Fine. Kiss me.”

His eyes widened with horror. “No, god no, she’ll kill me!” He hissed.

“Toru. Do you trust me?”

He sighed. “Fine, fine. Just get me out of this.”

He followed your instruction, quickly seating himself on the couch. You straddled him and pinned both of his wrists against the back of the couch. He knew you had to make it look like you’d taken advantage of him (rather than him running to you for protection), but he still couldn’t help the way his throat went dry when he felt you settle yourself on top of him, clothed core parking itself on top of his swollen erection (god, was it growing even more now??). Then you started to make out with him hungrily and he lost himself in you. His lips chased after yours, as though desperate for a taste of you. You couldn’t remember the last time a man kissed you so passionately. If he didn’t drive you batshit crazy and if you weren’t literally in the middle of doing him a favor, you might’ve actually enjoyed kissing him.

“What the HELL is going on?” A voice suddenly demanded from beside you. Oh yeah. She was crazy all right. You could hear the fight in her voice.

You continued to make out with him, pretending not to notice that she was there. When she repeated herself, this time louder, you only bothered to open one eye to peek over at her, making sure she knew you had better things to be doing than to pay attention to her. “Can I help you with something?” You murmured innocently as you tilted his chin up and licked a rough stripe up his neck. He shivered.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing with my man?” Her tone was low and seething.

“Oh honey. Does this look like your man to you?” You took his lower lip between your teeth, biting down so hard that he whined. Then you lapped the blood from his mouth, licking both his lips and yours, as she watched bitterly.

“We were in the middle of something.” She said through clenched teeth.

“And we’re in the middle of something now, bitch.” You spat back before grinding down on his cock. He let out a strangled groan.

She moved to pull you back by the hair but you caught her wrist.

“Did I say you could fucking interrupt?” You turned to glare hellfire at her.

She yanked her arm back, rubbing her wrist where your nails had broken skin. “You’re a fucking psycho.” She hissed.

“And you’re not welcome here. Get your shit and go. If I ever see you touching what’s mine ever again, I’ll make you wish you were dead.” You snarled.

She stared you down for a moment, then her gaze flitted over to him, trying to gauge if he was worth the fight. She decided against it, raising her hands in surrender as she backed up. In a few minutes, she’d grabbed her things and disappeared out the door.

Satoru exhaled a sigh of relief and leaned against your shoulder. “Damn, she was insane.” Then he sat up straight. “Wait, you knew she was insane, didn’t you? That’s why you said I wouldn’t like her. How could you tell?”

You shrugged, pulling yourself off of him (he tried not to whine as you withdrew). “Crazy recognizes crazy.”

He let out a whistle. “Shit, remind me not to mess with you.”

You let out a laugh as you plopped back down beside him. “Popcorn?” You offered him your bowl, pressing play on your movie once again.

He blinked at you. “You can’t be serious.”

“What?” You asked, popping a kernel into your mouth.

He gestured to the tent in his pants. “Still horny here.”

“And? You have a hand.”

He gave you an unamused look. “Oh, come on. Half of this is your fault. Help a guy out. You know…” He swallowed. “Like…like earlier.” You paused the movie and turned to examine him, amused. “Are you begging me to suck your dick, Toru?”

He gave a sheepish laugh. “Not begging…just…wondering?”

“What’ll you do if I agree?”

“What do you mean, what’ll I do? You can’t just get a guy off out of the goodness of your heart?”

You raised a brow.

“Yeah, okay, fine. I’ll do dishes for the next week.”

“Two weeks.”

“Fine, fine, two weeks.”

You dropped to your knees and slid down his pants. He’d already made a proper mess of himself, precum oozing out of him, after you’d done a number on him earlier. You smirked at the sight. “Aww, I dry hump you once and you get all worked up for me. How cute.”

His cheeks darkened. “Shut up and suck me off.”

“Ask nicely, Toru.”

He bit his lip. “Please… god, I need you to suck me off.”

“Good boy.”

He imagined you’d deep throat him again so he sucked in a breath, bracing himself. He never could’ve imagined you’d take the time to tease him, coaxing out every last drop of precum he had to offer with every slow, agonizing drag of your tongue. You traced the rim of his tip, applying pressure when he least expected it, and denying pressure when he most wanted it. Then you began to trail your tongue down his rigid length, acquainting yourself intimately with every bulging vein, until he was twitching and moaning beneath you. He thought he might die if you kept going with this torturous pace. He needed to fuck your throat and he needed it now.

As if sensing his desire, you looked up to meet his lustful gaze as you licked a slow stripe up his cock before latching around his plush tip and starting to suck. He was barely an inch into your mouth and already he wanted to come from the way you were looking at him. He was so hooked on the feeling of your saliva coating his cock like a balm to his aching need, so entranced by the way you commanded his gaze as you swallowed him down that, in the heat of the moment, if asked, he could swear he might be in love with you. You choked back a couple more inches until he was properly buried in your clenching throat and it wasn’t long after that he was soaking your walls with his milky cum.

Like you were simply clocking out of work, you pulled away from him once he’d finished squirming in your mouth, and pressed play on your movie again.

Unbelievable. Here he was, still blinking away stars and gasping for breath and you were munching on popcorn like you hadn’t just swallowed down his seed only seconds before. But he guessed that was the most intimacy he could hope for and, for now, it was enough.

He made the decision to join you in your movie-watching endeavors. “So, what’re we watching?” He cozied up beside you and scooped up a handful of popcorn.

“Horror.”

He froze. You wanted to watch a horror movie. Right before bed. Bold choice. Then he shrugged. “Can’t be half as bad as that psycho chick.”

As the two of you watched your movie together, for a moment, you actually didn’t seem to mind him. It was times like these that he wasn’t half bad. When he wasn’t banging every living creature, he was actually half decent. He’d noticed the goosebumps on your arms and yanked a blanket off the arm rest to pass to you. You gratefully accepted. When you realized he was cold too, you scooted closer to share the blanket. He was surprised but he allowed it.

“You know what would make this even better?” He held up the popcorn bowl.

“More butter?” “More butter.” You said in unison.

You both burst into laughter.

“I’ll grab some more,” He took off for the kitchen before you could even ask.

You smiled and then caught yourself. What the fuck were you doing? Cozying up to him, finishing his sentences, sharing food with him? Did you…like him? Your nose crinkled at the thought. He was immature, reckless, unbelievably horny. Not your type. No, you were simply being a good roommate and that was all. But since when were you good roommates? You were always at each other’s throats. After a moment’s ponderance, you realized that it wasn’t until he started bringing women over that you actually started bitching at each other. You’d been perfectly kind to each other before. You swallowed. No. Could it be…were you…jealous?

He settled himself beside you on the couch again. “Extra order of butter, as requested.”

You had a split second of hesitation before you smiled again and plucked some popcorn out of the bowl. You immediately turned back to the screen as though nothing had happened.

He watched you curiously. “Something wrong?”

“Just…throat dry. Too much popcorn.” You still weren’t looking at him.

He set the bowl down and instantly went to grab you some water.

You mentally face-palmed. He couldn’t keep doing stuff like this. You were going to lose your mind. You gave him another pinched smile when he quickly returned with your drink. “Thanks.” You took a sip from the cup.

He stared at you as you drank, taking note that your expression still hadn’t changed even after he’d fetched a drink for you. “Alright, spill. It’s not your throat that’s wrong. What’s up?”

“Watch the movie, Toru.”

He snatched the remote from you and hit pause. “I’ll ask again. What’s going on?”

You sighed. “Maybe I just don’t like having to clean up after all of your little flings, okay? I’m getting tired of it.” It was a half truth. It would do.

His gaze softened and he even looked…apologetic? “Alright, so I won’t bring them over anymore then. You saved me big time today. I really do appreciate it.”

You were quiet for a moment, but then your curiosity got the better of you. “So what did she do to you anyway?”

He instantly shuddered. “You don’t wanna know.”

You cocked a grin at him. “But I do, that’s why I asked.”

He fidgeted with his fingers before finally leaning over to whisper in your ear, “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

You held out your pinky and he took it with his trembling hand before quietly admitting, “She whipped my dick and then said she’d ‘kiss it all better’ and then bit it. She literally bit it.” The color drained from his face as he described it and it took everything in you not to laugh. “I won’t even discuss with you what she wanted to do to my… to my ass.”

“Poor baby Satoru is traumatized.” You teased.

“It’s not even funny; I literally am traumatized. I think I may be celibate going forward.” He shuddered again.

Now you had to laugh. “Satoru Gojo, celibate? Are pigs flying?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I’m a man whore, I know, I know. I hear all the rumors. But I’m serious; I think I really will take a break. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable anyway.”

“Well I appreciate that. Maybe I won’t have to murder you after all.”

He snorted. “As if you could.”

You traced your thumb over where you’d drawn blood from his lip just an hour ago. “Maybe you’re not as untouchable as you think you are.”

He caught your wrist in a firm grip, and his gaze locked onto your eyes. “Or maybe I don’t mind letting you touch me.”

Your breath hitched.

His thumb gently caressed your wrist.

Before he could think too much about it, he began to slowly lean forward.

“I’m really tired!” You blurted out suddenly, standing up straight. You even yawned and stretched for the full effect. Then you dashed to your room and locked the door. And then pulled your bookcase in front of the door as if it would stop the one and only Satoru Gojo.

Back in the living room, Satoru was still in shock. Did you just…? Could you tell what he was...? Or were you actually tired? You didn’t seem tired when you were laughing at the movie. A smile tugged at his lips. Laughing. You were actually laughing at a horror movie. He shook his head thinking about it. You were something. You’d always been something.

He still remembered the day he’d first moved in with you. He arrived later than he said he would and you were half asleep on the couch by the time he got there. When you heard him sneak in, your instincts kicked in and you instantly sat upright, nearly scaring the life out of him.

“If you’re a burglar, I’m a broke college student; if you find any money, it’s news to me. If you’re my new roommate, you took too long so I took the bigger room. Either way, I’m sure you can deal with whatever you came for like a big boy.”

He burst into a fit of laughter. And he was never late again. In fact, he’d never looked forward to coming home so much in his entire life. When he lived with his clan, he was the center of attention. The legendary Satoru Gojo. The prodigy. The miracle. When he was with you, he was just some sheltered kid who’d never cooked a day in his life, never ridden the train, never even tied his own shoelaces. When he was with you, he was just Toru.

Lately, Toru was nothing more than a fuck up. Nothing more than someone who couldn’t keep bringing his mistakes home. Someone who’d rather drown himself in shallow affairs and forced intimacy than admit he felt something for the girl in the room over.

He wasn’t the only one.

You’d conveniently forgotten the time that you slept on the floor for two days straight because your bed frame had snapped in half, and when you left the door ajar the next day, and he walked by and saw your blanket and pillows on the floor, he fixed the bedframe for you before you even came home. You’d forgotten the times when he’d steal your favorite box of cereal, convinced he’d never eaten anything so amazing in his entire life (to which you’d reply, “It’s just cereal, haven’t you ever eaten cereal before?” and the answer was no, he hadn’t), but he’d always replace it before you ran out as thanks for letting him share. And you’d forgotten the way he’d draw smiley faces on the window with his finger when you’d complain under your breath that the rain was making you depressed. You’d somehow completely forgotten he wasn’t a terrible person before he started bringing all these bimbos home.

You were going to have to face your feelings sooner or later. You just didn’t want to face them now. It was already bad enough that the taste of his lips from your earlier makeout session was still seared into your brain, without you having to worry about if that kiss meant something to you or to him. It was even worse that he was a good kisser. You never doubted he was, but something about him kissing you made all the difference. And it was fake, it was an act, yada yada, but still, you couldn’t force yourself to stop thinking about it. To stop lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, reliving it in a loop. To stop wondering if he was lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and reliving it too.

After another hour or two of this, you finally sighed and got out of bed. You needed a cup of warm milk, some Benadryl, a ten mile jog, a hammer to the head, whatever would knock you out. You weren’t gonna face him looking like a zombie in the morning. If your constant clashing with him didn’t kill the mood, that certainly would.

So you marched over to the kitchen in search of literally anything useful, and found that he was already there, raiding the fridge. He had half a cookie sticking out of his mouth and was trying to juggle the milk carton and a cup in one arm while he continued to file through the fridge with the other.

“Mmmf, you…here for a…midnight snack too?” He mumbled in between chewing.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Finish your food before you talk, geez, Toru. That’s like the first rule they teach you in elementary school.”

“Cookie’s too…big for me…” He mumbled again.

He was going to choke at this rate. You reached over and snapped a portion of the cookie off, popping it into your mouth. “There. Not as big anymore.”

“You do realize that was just in my mouth.”

“It was sticking out of your mouth.”

“Yeah, but I figure it counts as indirect kissing, right?” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes, but turned away so he couldn’t see the hint of a blush creeping into your cheeks. “You just say whatever ridiculous shit pops into your brain, don’t you?”

He set his things down on the counter before cupping your face with one hand and turning you towards him. “Can I… say some more ridiculous shit?”

You grabbed another cookie and shoved it into his mouth.

He raised a brow at you as if to say “Really?”

He was right; you were being dumb. If he wanted to have it out now, you may as well have it out now. Maybe he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Maybe you wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Oh, who were you kidding? There was no way you’d forget the way your heart was racing like it was in the Indy 500. But if it was going to be awkward now, it was still going to be awkward even if you waited a day, a week, or even a month to have this conversation. So you had to have it.

He finished chewing. “Can I talk now?”

You gestured for him to continue like it was no big deal, but your eyes trailed down to the floor.

“Nuh-uh. You know when someone talks, the other person usually looks at them. That’s, like,” He grinned, remembering your earlier words, “The second rule they teach you in elementary school.” He tucked a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“Alright, alright- I’m looking. Spit it out, Toru.” Your rapid fire words matched the rapid fire pace of your heartbeat and you just hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Would’ve said it sooner if someone didn’t shove a cookie into my mouth, so really, who’s fault is it for the delay?” He teased.

You rolled your eyes but your flushing cheeks betrayed your show of annoyance. “Well you’re still delaying. If you don’t get on with it, I’m going to bed.” You made a point of turning to leave, but he caught your wrist.

“I was going to tell you I’m not bringing anyone over anymore.”

“Yeah- you said that already, Toru.”

“But I mean it. There’s no point. The only person I’m interested in already lives with me. And…I wonder if she’s interested in me too.”

You bit your lip.

“And…I wonder if she knows how cute she is when she bites her lip.” He ran a thumb over your lower lip tenderly. “And how much she consumes my every thought, waking or dreaming.” His eyes flicked back up to yours, waiting for your answer.

You exhaled and then cracked a smile. “You saying you get wet dreams about me, Toru?”

He shook his head, amused at how that was the one thing you’d fixated on. “On more than one occasion. You saying you don’t mind?”

“I’m saying I mind a lot of things you do. I mind the way you leave the toilet seat up to remind me you were in there, even if you were just shitting on it so it should’ve been down. I mind the way you leave all the lights in the entire apartment on even if you’re not using that room. I mind the way you spritz me with your cologne when I just told you it was too strong. But that, your… feelings for me…I don’t mind. And I’m starting not to mind how I think about you too. How I can’t stop thinking about you. Is that an answer?”

“Oh, you know, it was long and drawn out and dramatic. But very like you. So I guess I’ll take it.” He grinned. “Only on one condition, though.”

You raised a brow. “What’s that?”

“You let me kiss you. For real, this time.”

“You don’t have to ask, you can just-”

His lips were on yours in an instant. But for someone who was infamously impatient, the way he kissed you was slow, gentle. He cradled your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks tenderly. He held onto this one, simple moment for as long as he could before he needed air. And then he regretted needing air because the moment he pulled away, he missed you already. His eyes found yours, gauging your reaction to his kiss.

“Was that all I get?” You murmured, love drunk. “Where’s the insatiable Satoru who begged me to choke him down?”

He gave a sheepish chuckle. “He was kind of a selfish bastard, he knows that now. I won’t make the same mistake as him. I want to take it slow.” As if to prove his point, he trailed his hands gently down your arms. He just wanted to relish the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. When he got to your hands, he gave them a little squeeze, before pressing a tender kiss to each one.

Then, he let go of your hands, finding your hips instead, and pulling you towards him until you were close enough to exchange air. You thought he might kiss you again, but he just gazed into your eyes as his fingers caressed your hips. “You’re so beautiful,” He whispered, words coated in genuine sweetness. If he could look at you forever, he would. He’d memorize every freckle, every scar, every detail that made you you, until you were all that he pictured when he drifted into the land of dreams every night.

“You just going to keep staring?” You teased, half flustered and half impatient.

“Well, what should I be doing right now? Please, enlighten me, my dear.” He grinned, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Tell me what you want.”

“Kiss me like you mean it.”

You heard him inhale sharply before taking a nosedive towards your lips. When his lips met yours, it was everything passionate and pure. His hunger was still evident in the way he pressed himself into you like he’d become one with your very being if he just closed enough distance, but it wasn’t any hunger like you’d seen before. It wasn’t primal or instinct or out of necessity, it was yearning, it was devotion, it was beautiful. He didn’t kiss you because he couldn’t help himself or because you were just satisfying some urge of his; he kissed you because he loved you, because he was all yours and he needed you to know that. And he didn’t do anything but kiss you. He didn’t try to touch you anymore than just steading himself against you, he didn’t try to force himself on you. He just simply wanted to be with you. And you’d only asked for a kiss so that would be enough for him.

Of course, you didn’t want just a kiss.

“Toruuu…” You moaned against his lips as he chased yours, over and over again. “Need you…”

The desperation and desire in your tone was clear but the raging fire in his pants could wait until he’d had explicit consent. “What do you need, baby?” He murmured as he trailed his kisses up and down your jawline.

“Need you to take me… need you… to fuck me.”

He let out a low groan, as heat seared through his veins. God, the way you spoke drove him insane. He scooped you up in his arms and began to carry you to your bedroom. He didn’t dare take you to his. If this was going to be his first time with you, he didn’t want it to be anywhere near where he’d spent long nights tangled up with other women. This was something new, something precious. He wouldn’t make the mistake of treating you the way he did anyone else.

You, however, had no clue what he was thinking, not being privy to his personal inner monologue, so when he didn’t just take you right on the kitchen counter, or in his bedroom (which was closer to the kitchen than yours), you gave him a puzzled look. “Where are you going, baby? What are we doing?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to take you? I’m making good on that request.”

“But why are we going all the way to my room? We could’ve just done it on the kitchen counter, I wouldn’t have minded. Or even your room.”

He shook his head. “I know you asked me to fuck you, love, but I’m not going to do that. You’re not some quickie for me. You’re not just some random girl. You’re the love of my life and I want to make love to you. I thought your bed would be more comfortable for you anyway, seeing as how you’re already used to it. That okay with you?” He gazed down at you lovingly, eyes bright and earnest and impossible to refuse.

“Of course that’s okay with me, Toru. More than okay. I want to make love to you too.” You blushed as your reply left your lips quieter than you would’ve liked. How could you so suddenly become shy when you’d just asked him to fuck you not two minutes ago? But when he put it so sincerely like that, you couldn’t help but melt inside.

And when he practically beamed at your response, you felt your insides softening even further. What was he doing to you? You were turning into a big puddle of mush and it was all because of him.

He laid you down on your bed gently and slipped your clothes off of you, with all care and no speed, like he was just enjoying the process of stripping you bare. It was almost too slow for your liking, but you didn’t dare tell him that- not when he was looking at you like he’d found gold with every inch of skin revealed to him.

“God- look at you. You’re gorgeous.” He murmured, reveling in the sight of your naked form once he’d had you fully stripped. Then he bent down to trail reverent kisses down your neck, down your chest, down your stomach.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he explored your body with his lips. Whenever you’d let a satisfied sigh slip as he’d skim over a particularly sensitive spot, he made sure to lavish proper attention to it, sucking and biting, until he’d left the evidence of his love for you blooming on your skin. He hadn’t even touched you where you’d wanted him to yet, still leaving marks along your hips and your thighs, and you were already a mess beneath him. His lips left you feeling heated, gasping for breath, and when he ran his cool tongue over the bruises, you felt your mind cloud over with a dizzying desire.

You were about to beg him for even just the tip of his finger, just the tip of his cock, for something, for anything, for some semblance of satisfaction, when he finally dipped his head down and began running that devious tongue of his over your clit until you were to the point of delicious delirium.

“So good, you taste so good, my love.” He began to suck harder on the aching bud.

Your head arched back as whimpers tumbled past your lips. “Please, Toru-” You were utterly undone, all tense and trembling beneath him.

“Please what?” He murmured as his tongue trailed up and down the length of your slit.

“Please let me come. Make me come.” You pleaded, hips rocking forward until his tongue was inside of you, flicking against your pulsing walls. Each stroke of his tongue was slow, intentional, exploratory, like he wouldn’t stop until he’d tasted every inch of you. Your gentle, beating pulse turned erratic, fluttering on the edge of ecstasy. A few deliberate motions later and your release was flooding his mouth, all sticky and sweet and seraphic, as the euphoria overcame you.

You whined as he withdrew (licking his lips as he did), but you were quickly rewarded by him sheathing his cock within your wet heat shortly after. Your eyes rolled back as you adjusted to the feeling of his erection making a home between your still-trembling walls.

He sunk into your depths slowly, strangled moans rising up his throat as your greedy cunt swallowed inch by inch of his cock. Though he’d just consumed every drop of your arousal only moments ago, he could feel it growing within you again, completely slathering his length with your slick. You took him so well, fit him so perfectly, spread yourself so wide for him, that he had to brace himself against the mattress, pausing his motions so that he could breathe in and out, get himself together enough so that he wouldn’t immediately come inside of you.

He almost felt like a virgin again, the way your clenching around him sent his soul flying out of his body. Had he not done this a million times before? But god, it was so different when it was with you. When it was you crying out his name, when it was you bumbling beneath him, when it was you begging him to go harder, to go deeper, to go faster, until he lost all sense of himself, until all he felt was you in his veins, you in his lungs, you in his soul.

He rocked into you with a growing intensity, hands burying themselves into the mattress for fear of crushing you if he perched them on your hips. He attempted to distract himself from the building tension in his groin by scattering kisses across your chest, but it only served to increase his overflowing attraction towards you as your breasts swayed with every thrust of his hips. You tasted so sweet, even if his lips had only grazed your skin for a mere second. And you smelled so enticing, even when your sweat had begun to intermingle with your natural scent. Every inch of you was perfect and every inch of you was his and it was all starting to become too much for him to handle. Too hot, too heavy, too heavenly.

And then your breath hitched and your fingers pierced the sheets and your orgasm followed, and suddenly he was right there beside you, pumping every ounce of his desire into your welcoming depths, heaving and groaning and still thrusting for everything he was worth. Even when he had nothing left to spill inside you, he kept grinding his hips forward, just to feel that intoxicating squeeze around his cock, so gratifying, so glorious, and all for him.

And when his exhaustion finally crashed into him, he collapsed beside you, still buried within you, and pulled you close to him, eager to feel your warmth, to hear your stuttering heartbeat.

He wanted to tell you that you were the best he’d ever had. That he’d never felt this way for anyone. That you had seeped into the very fabric of his being and that he’d never be the same again, that he’d never be anything but yours. But as you panted against his chest, smiling sleepily at him when you’d finally recovered, his heart skipped a thousand beats and his words suddenly fell short. He settled for a simple, “I love you. So so much.”

And when you beamed at him, he knew it was enough for now. It was enough to just hold you and love you. He could spend the rest of his life telling you everything else he wanted to say.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @ouiouimochi @minasfwoopyponytail

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divadowndivadown · 1 day ago

Text

Part two of the Vampire’s maid <3

Here’s part one if you didn’t see it first

Author’s Note: I’m so excited about this part! It’s been so long since I’ve written everything and it feels so good to share my stories with you. Love you diva, feel free to comment on the story and thanks for the support <3

He never revealed much about himself, to your dismay. But he would always be around as you did your chores for the day, keeping a vigilant eye on you as you went about your daily routine of dusting around the manor.

A slow two weeks had passed since the first meeting, and strangely, he hasn’t touched you since then, much less talked to you. There was always an anxious gut feeling you had around him after you found out you were working for a vampire lord, feelings of isolation grew even though you could always feel his presence hover close to you. Malicious or possessive? You couldn’t tell, but what you did know is that you never wanted to get on his bad side. Even though he hadn’t done anything to you and was actually a decent host, setting you up with your own room and making sure you got fed each day, you couldn’t help the thought that he might try to kill you someday.

“Lord Damascus.. I’m done dusting… was there anything else you needed..?” You inquire, looking into his eyes as he looks up from his book, his eyes bore into yours as that awkward tension grows with every bated breath. A quiet breath of relief escapes you as he gives you a slow nod and a wave of dismissal, but when you turn to leave you hear his voice call out to you.

Lord Damascus had only planned on feasting on your blood that night… drinking every drop until there was nothing left.. he’d done it to a plethora of ignorant, clueless humans, luring them in with hopes of an easy job, food, and comfort away from the city. You should have been like the others, and in many ways, you were. Young, naive and ignorant to the trap he had laid out for centuries. But you… your lovely warm eyes, so full of fear and anxiety, your heart pounding out of your chest, the way you shivered when he felt your pulse. He was utterly entranced in a way he himself couldn’t understand, he just knew the feeling was right, the need to hold you close and comfort you, to protect you from everything, to cherish your very soul, the need to make you his.

It filled his heart with a sense of wonder and confusion, having spent the week beyond enthralled with everything you did for the manor, for him. He noticed how diligent you worked, how committed you were to getting a good deal of work done. The areas he frequented became clear of the dust and grime under your care, bringing him back to when he still considered himself youthful.

His face nor his hair have shown any indication of his true age, and he had always held himself in high regard, dignity and eloquence is what he thought of himself before you.

After your fifth day at the manor he found himself watching you at night, how your chest rose and fell so calmly, the peace that took over your unconscious face compared to how you always looked over your shoulder with worry. He wondered when you would stop being afraid of him, did he not give you enough space..? Did you feel threatened by him?

“Maybe I should reach out more..” he pondered as his heart grows fuller with each breath you take, safe and comfortable under his gaze, just as you should be. Later on at night he started imagining things he would have never been interested in before you. How your lips would taste against his, how warm your body would be when he cuddled you, how incredibly lovely you would look melting into him. Thoughts of domestic affection and warmth clouded his mind and plagued him every time he watched you do your simple duties around the manor.

After the first week he continued to sit in the chair as he watched you sleep, but on this day he felt something dormant stirring within him as he watched you drool. It wasn’t anything irregular but at that moment you couldn’t have been more irresistible to him, watching the warm saliva slip past your lips, down your cheek onto the silk pillowcase did it for him.

He felt his body aching as he silently leaned into you, his thoughts wrapped up in your raw, unconscious presence. Fangs digging into his lip as he resists the urge to kiss you awake, his mind coming up with images of your pretty eyes fluttering awake in surprise has him quietly groaning, his cock throbbing eagerly at the sight of your sweet, unaware, sleeping face.

He almost touched himself, but being so vulnerable in front of you asleep or not was enough encouragement to refrain from this newly discovered desire. He couldn’t remember a time his body burned for someone so badly, and it only got worse as he continued his habit of watching you at night.

It was unruly, he thought as he watched your sleeping form, you had worked so hard these past days and it was getting harder to stay away from you, to not hold you close in his arms, to not sing your praises. He felt pathetic in a way, not that he would ever admit it, but just watching you get all the rest you rightfully earned makes his heart unusually fuzzy and his cock strain painfully against his tailored trousers.

It became his favorite past time, every small twitch, every subtle moment of your rest had him seething in lust and affection. He tried to labeled it a just a silly game he’d play with you… until he heard you snore for the first time. Pure, deep, unconscious snoring. The type of snoring that lets you know how deep and comfortable the person is.

He had came untouched. It was the headiest aphrodisiac he had ever been trapped in, his cum stained his trousers in a large wet mess, hoarse whimpers forced back in his throat, and the feeling of being utterly breathless and spent yet still wanting more forced him to realize it wasn’t a game. He was obsessed.. and he had to make you feel the same, no… better. He wanted to give you euphoria, and he couldn’t wait to devote his entire existence to your very being.

“My dear, I have a question… and I need your honest answer, am I clear?” He insisted, his tone calm and leveled but it wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Yes, my lord..?” You murmur, the pounding of your racing heart didn’t help with your nerves at all. You could only think of all the negative things that could possibly happen. Was he going to kill you now? Was he not satisfied with your work? Is he going to-

“…are you afraid of me?”

The question left you startled and unsure, his rich bass voice made you unexpectedly calm, but then your brain started spinning again. Should you lie? Lying would be easier… but what he calls you out and you get punished?!

You don’t even realize you looked away until you lock eye contact with him once again, gulping heavily as you take a breath, “..yes… I know you haven’t done anything.. but you’re… a vampire. I know I’m just your maid so please don’t hurt me” you admit, expecting the worst.

“Harm you..? My dear… my delightful human… I wouldn’t even think of such a thing. You’re mine. And I take care of the things that are mine, do you understand?” He chuckles, but his tone is sharper than before.

You silently nod and watch as he puts his book down and walks around the desk and stands in front of you. He can feel how your breathing unintentionally hitches as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to face his, and it makes him keen inside.

“..you’ve done such an eloquent service for me, do you not agree…? I haven’t seen cobwebs since you started here. You’re utterly valuable.. how could I ever harm you?” He disclosed, grinning gleefully and mischievously as he can feel your heart flutter again, knowing he’s winning you over.

“Well… when you put it like that I just sound irrational..” you jest depreciatingly, but you do feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Still slightly on guard but… you feel better.

“You do, my precious human… but rest assured, I see you. And I appreciate you with every fresh breath you bring” he coos as he presses a tender, lingering kiss to your temple.

You could feel a simultaneous shiver of comfort, relief and embarrassment run down your spine from the kiss, warmth creeping up your face as your eyes try to wander elsewhere before his hand gently pulls your attention back to him.

“Mm… you’ve given me your all.. and I believe I am behind on your payment, aren’t I?” He inquires, but before you can even get your thoughts together, his lips are on yours.

It’s a warm, tender kiss. The one he’s been craving since he saw you, and finally got. He savors you with all his undead heart, sucking on your lips tenderly and carefully as his arms slowly wrap around your waist. He doesn’t stop till he feels your need for air, but by then he’s already smitten, so lost in you, so ready to worship your hard working flesh like it deserves. He only asks you one last question..

“…would you like your reward, my darling..?”

I got inspired to write my own monster story from these blogs: @lyonnerileyauthor @monstersholygrail @davinawritings

Dividers are from: @kodaswrld

#monster fucker #monster x you #monster x reader #monster romance #monster lover #monster x human #monster #vampire x reader #vampire x human #vampire lover #teratophillia

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