#A lot of things he doesn't pay much attention to but he's very careful with his dream data I'm love him <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovemomhatepolice · 7 hours

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rafe cameron nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Well, it depends on your relationship. If you're just a fling sex that happened at a party or friends with benefits, don't count on appropriate behavior after. Rafe can have any girl, so he doesn't pay much attention to it. However, if you're in a relationship together or in the pre-relationship phase and you've totally turned his head, oh girl. Rafe will stand on his head as long as you are happy and properly taken care of. Baths, long cuddles, and even conversation (something that wasn't popular for him before) are standard after your intercourse.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I don't know if Rafe has a favorite body part in himself. In general, he thinks he is a handsome man - well, and he is not wrong. He likes his athletic arms and chest, because he pays a lot of attention to that when he exercises. He likes his face because he knows very well how charming he looks. And I think he appreciates his penis. It may not be the most beautiful part in the human body, but his… God. In you, he loves how small you are compared to him. Regardless of your dimensions, you will still “hide” behind him. He loves to see the difference in the size of your hands. He always laughs at how his hand could be two of yours. Well, and he loves your pussy. He has already pronounced her his property, so you can tell for yourself how much he likes that body part in you. Especially since you fit together like a puzzle (well, maybe Rafe is slightly too big, but everything will fit)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves to see you in his cum. More than once he ends up on your breasts, buttocks, belly…. Wherever he could. And the very fact that you bravely swallow everything after a blowjob each time literally puts him on cloud nine. He may not be a big fan of ending up on your beautiful face, but in the mouth is something else. D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He loves that you are his pillow princess, but there are still thoughts in his head that he would like more of your dominance. The sight of you bouncing on him has sunk so deeply into his mind that he wants it more and more… E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Rafe is experienced, let's not kid ourselves. Before his relationship with you, he had plenty of girlfriends for one night or a few times. However, the fact that he wasn't more involved with any of them definitely changes things. Thanks to you, he actually learned what he really likes and that sex doesn't have to be a purely physical activity at all. But going back - he is experienced. Damn experienced and he knows what he's doing. With his hand, with his tongue, with his cock… F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Rafe's favorite position is definitely missionary or one where he is between your legs. He likes to be in control, plus he likes that he can change the angle of his entry into you, so these positions allow him to do so perfectly. In addition, the sight of your face directly in front of him, on which are painted various signs of the pleasure he is experiencing…. Your neck, which is covered in plenty of hickeys in no time. And your lips, which are locked in a kiss. Yup G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He's not some super playful during sex. Rafe focuses on intimacy and closeness, not silliness. He's not likely to be able to fool around. Of course, there are moments when you giggle or say something funny, but mostly your intercourse is focused on the romance of the moment. H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Rafe is all shaved up at the bottom. He hates hair that would unnecessarily get in the way. And he thinks having them is not very hygienic. As for you - he would also prefer you to be completely shaved or at least properly trimmed. I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

At first, for Rafe, sex was only something physical that could give him vent to his excitement or anger. Only with you did he discover that it could also be something else, which is why he is just learning. However, over time you began to notice that he was giving you more and more compliments during intercourse or wasn't afraid to make noises. So yes, you are on the right track. Maybe soon he will even leave rose petals on the bed or light candles?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) He doesn't do it often because you are side by side usually, however, he has something he really likes about masturbation. He likes it when you see him do it. Sometimes of himself he just makes you watch and counts down how long you can last without touching him. And vice versa - you do the same. K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) I think Rafe has a lot of kink. But such a strongly dominant one is breeding kink. Especially with the death of Ward and Rafe's decision to move out of Tannyhill and any homes that had ties to his family. Yes, this is the time when the oldest of the Cameron siblings sees himself in the family with you and your children. He himself doesn't know what kind of father he would be and the thought scares him a little. But the mere fact of seeing you in your pregnant belly with his child, Mother, it drives him so much. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) There is no suitable place for Rafe. In fact, he could fuck you even in an open space in the park if you wanted him to. You like to experiment, so your sex takes place there and then when you feel the urge. However, let's not kid ourselves, most often it takes place on your bed or in the shower. Or in the kitchen or living room… M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) There is no particular thing that after excites you in a unique way, but if you just have an attitude, Rafe feels the need to punish you for it. He hates it when you tease him, but at the same time it excites him so much that he repeatedly lets you do it. Oh, and of course the skimpier dresses he buys for you himself.

A/N: next part will be here tommorow! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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lady-of-endless · 3 days

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Hello! Can you please make headcanons for your relationship with Fugo or Kakyoin? You can use both SFW and NSFW (as a nuance or zest you can add a shared love of books and libraries)

I wish your blog will grow fast ❤️

Author's Note: Love it to see these two get requested! I'm soft from writing these, hope that you'll be too after reading those hcs. Thank you for your request and your patience. Hope you'll enjoy it! The GIFs are not mine, I'm thanking the owners.

Panacotta Fugo, Kakyoin Noriaki x reader SFW and NSFW relationship headcanons

(with a dash of shared love for reading)

(The characters are aged up)

Pannacotta Fugo

(SFW)

- Fugo seems to always be slightly confused by your love and affection towards him. He knows all of his flaws and all of the things he should but cannot change about himself so why love him? Are you sure about that?

- At the initial phase of the relationship, he still is a bit reluctant to your affection, mainly because of his past. He needs time, to be understood, and you to let him take the lead with the pace of the relationship. If you accept this, he again considers himself too lucky.

- Fugo's love language is acts of service and words of affirmation, the latter comes in time. He is there anytime you need anything and loves doing things for you. He will also like to compliment you from time to time, but he won't be overwhelming.

- He is not opposed to pda but only if it's not too much or too obvious. It's tricky. He enjoys holding your hand, and caressing your back, but kissing? That might be too much for him in public.

- Something unexpected is that he gets clumsy because of you. Everyone notices how he starts stumbling or dropping things by accident and they start teasing him about genuinely "falling" in love.

- There's a big inner battle in him when trying to decide if he should tell you that he thinks of leaving the team. It's tearing him apart because he knows that if he leaves the team behind, he leaves you behind.

- Fugo is definitely the type to sit next to the bathtub as you take a bath and read something to you so you can relax more. His voice is calm and before turning the page, he steals a glance at you with loving eyes.

- From a young age, Fugo was a studious person and old habits die hard, and now his favorite subject is you. He likes to observe you when you're not paying attention to him. When you read, he's next to you, reading something as well. However, if you pay close attention you'll notice how he just won't turn the page in a few good minutes. You can tell he's distracted but can you tell why?

(NSFW)

- When he snaps out of that trance, he just clears his throat and asks you about what you're reading. As you explain, he inches closer with a look in his eyes that tells you that he wants something right then and there, nodding and listening to you. His intentions are clear when he gets close enough to straddle you and take the book from your hands to put it away.

- With you, Fugo is surprised to discover how useful intimacy is when it comes to daily self-control. As you two get more intimate, his anger fits diminishes in frequency. It's like a balance.

- As mentioned before, Fugo needs to feel like he is taking the lead to feel comfortable with everything that's going on and that goes into the bedroom as well. He is very careful soft dom in bed. Him being the one to take care of you and decide the next move puts him at ease immensely but it also gives him confidence.

- Regarding kinks, he doesn't have many but one thing is for sure. His tie will always somehow be on you, either around your wrists, neck, or over your eyes acting like a blindfold. Plus, it turns him on the next day when he wears it and catches on your scent that stays on the fabric.

- But besides that, he likes to keep it simply loving and profound. He leans to a slow and sensual pace with lots of eye contact and praising whispers. Besides those whispers, he is going to be vocal and that might come off as a surprise for him too. He'll try to cover those sounds by moaning into the curve of your neck, into your shoulders, or against your lips.

Kakyoin Noriaki

(SFW)

- I feel like even within the group of crusaders, he feels a bit left out, he can't tell why. Maybe it's out of habit. However, this changes once you become his friend and even his lover later on. He feels more connected to the group through you. It's like you took him by the hand and brought him closer to the others. He will be forever grateful for that.

- Kakyoin is introverted by nature and has a complex personality so there are some aspects that you need to know in the initial phase of the relationship. He might act differently than how he truly wants to act just to make sure nothing bothers you. If you encourage him, he'll slowly show his true beautiful colors until he becomes totally comfortable with just being himself around you.

- As he opens up in the relationship, you discover a new side of him, one that's more playful and bold. This is when you understand that besides acts of service as his love language, there is also physical touch as a way to express his strong emotions.

- Because you're so perfect in his eyes, Kakyoin wants to impress you but has no idea how. He makes the greatest mistake to ask the group for advice. However, he's smart enough not to follow their suggestions. So he feels defeated. He doesn't know that it's the little things he does that impress you. Little things such as: always opening the door for you, placing his hand on your lower back protectively, making sure you're hydrated, lending you his jacket if you're cold, telling you how beautiful you look when he wakes up next to you, and so on.

- His favorite gesture to remind you that he's there for you is to put a strand of hair between your ear and kiss your cheek.

- Kakyoin will notice a change in your mood immediately, you won't be able to hide it from him. He asks what you need, to be heard, to be distracted, or to get an opinion. He goes a long way to make sure you're alright, you're too precious to him.

- Call him your cherry boy and he's putty in your hands, blushing and looking at you with big eyes. If you play with his curl too, he's done.

- Wants to present you to his parents one day. He is just so happy he's not alone anymore and wants to share it with his dear ones. And let me tell you, his parents will adore you.

- Kakyoin often thinks of ways to spoil you and show his appreciation to you in different and authentic ways. He saves some money and takes you to a date at your favorite library and tells you to choose any book you want without a care.

(NSFW)

- You're art to him, his muse, and that's why his sketchbook is filled with you. His favorite scene? When you're curled up in an armchair, lost in a book. However, there might be other sketches that are a little bit suggestive and maybe explicit. He usually tries to draw them from memory and as he replays the intimate scenes in his mind, he feels overwhelmed and hot under his clothes.

- Kakyoin is a total switch in bed but might be leaning more toward being submissive. Again, you can overwhelm him very easily, use it wisely. He gets dominant only if you tease him too much and wants to get revenge.

- He's a big experimentalist, wanting to try everything once with you. The result of this is that he will develop many kinks. I feel like one of his favorites is Shibari, done on you. His artistic nature makes him appreciate beauty more and seeing you tied up in intricate knots takes his breath away. And because he's a switch, another favorite of his is when you edge him and turn him into an overstimulated, pleading mess.

- He likes to set the scene for you. Probably has a playlist for those intimate occasions and he always updates it so it doesn't become repetitive. But it's just background noise because he wants to hear you more than anything. And maybe some cherry-scented candles placed around.

#jojo bizarre adventure #pannacotta fugo #kakyoin noriaki #fugo x reader #kakyoin x reader #jjba part 3 #jjba part 5 #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #jjba #jjba kakyoin #jjba fugo #stardust crusaders #jojo golden wind #vento aureo #team bucciarati #jjba headcanons

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sysig · 19 days

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Incomplete exchange (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #Helix #Max Vyer #DAX #*throws idea spaghetti throws idea spaghetti throws idea spaghetti throws #So Max and ZEX changing places - what if that but This lol #It would also be funny to watch Max stumble around in ZEX's body lol but considering ''how'' ZEX got isekai'd...#Not much left probably :| Dark #Really I'm just fascinated by throwing the almost-dynamics into relief hehehe - DAX and Dex so similar! And Max and ZEX similar in some ways #How would DAX react to Max :3c How would Max react to DAX! One of them knows the other - at least at arm's length - but not the other!#Seeing a VUX ''in person'' would probably be a whole other feeling as well haha - there's a familiarity when he's inhabiting ZEX's POV #Still thinks he's dreaming because I mean - would the reality be any easier to swallow? No lol #I guess this would be a scenario before ZEX dies since y'know - DAX is here haha - unless this is some afterlife something???#Both Max and DAX /would/ be dead in that scenario - or would they?? Haha the grey area is the funnest to play in <3 #I think it'd be very interesting on DAX's end as well - obviously Max is very different from ZEX but if the language thing works both ways #VUX already have the translators of course but like - Max speaks very differently from ZEX he formulates his sentences very specifically #But if the way he attacks the words the way his accent moves the sounds around - if he speaks like ZEX but not /like/ him - s'interesting!#Would probably confuse the heck out of DAX haha he knows that voice very well!#By the transitive property would that make their accent space New Jersey? No that's too silly haha #I really love Max just dropping years and events out of the blue haha - very important! Written down! Kept track of!#A lot of things he doesn't pay much attention to but he's very careful with his dream data I'm love him <3 #I also had So much fun drawing his hands here hehe ♪ His hand expressions have quickly risen to being my favourite :D #ZEX doesn't express with his hands! Which means it's a Max-specific type of thing in his body!#Tells <3

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aftermathing · 10 days

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The worst thing about suffering is that it still hurts when the danger is over but no one cares about it anymore because it shouldn't hurt. No one will ever say "I'm sorry that happened to you" especially when they barely say "I'm sorry that's happening."

#Okay to tb btw all the personal stuff is in the tags #Like. Not eating for a week because you couldn't get groceries hurts #and people will say 'oof sorry that's happening' but then #after you're able to get food no one will ever say 'I'm sorry that happened' even though you think about it and hurt from it constantly.#No one will ever say ':( that must have been so hard' because you're fine now right???? No psychological damage there?????#This example is stupid but I do think about it every time I feel hungry. I told people I wasn't able to get groceries #and there was no food in my house. And they said. Oof.#Instead of idk Oh God Are You Okay ??#No one cares when you've been abused your entire life and behave the way you do out of genuine terror because your brain is fucked forever #They don't say 'I'm sorry that happened it must have been really scary to turn you into Such An Asshole. I pity you like a dog :('#Speaking of man everyone loves fucked up abused terrified dogs and wants to be the one who makes them open up #And shows them that people can be good and kind and that touch doesn't have to hurt #But everyone is scared of fucked up abused terrified people #Humans are capable of harm even more than dogs and fear is understandable but.#Can you please call me good boy and shush me and tell me nothing's going to hurt me and let me curl up on your lap #And not hit me if I get scared and start to growl and feed me good and take me on walks and play with me #Even though I'm not very fun to play with and I'm still learning what's fun and what's mean and what's a toy and what's a hand #Plleeeaaase don't be jealous of a dog that doesn't eat good don't say 'tch he's so thin what am I doing wrong'#I want to eat good and grow and gain fat and be warm and be comfortable I don't want this #Don't say 'if abused dogs don't eat good then I don't deserve to either' no no no no eat good so you can take care of us both #Please please please I learned so many tricks to make people happy and call me smart but I don't actually know how to do anything I'm #Literally like such a stupid dog it takes me like one day of no one paying attention to me for me to become un-housebroken #I make a lot of mistakes even though I know better or I really should know better #And sometimes do things wrong on purpose to get attention either yelling or showing me how to do it right #But most of the time I genuinely don't know how to do stuff because I was never taught or I was taught and #My previous owners said 'this is how it is. It is this way because it is and it is forever. The answer is Because.'#'now quit asking repetitive questions before I pop you'#If I do something Because and not know the reason why I'm doing it that's not learning that's acting #Especially habits taught specifically to hurt me and not being allowed to question it or know why I'm being hurt #Oh my god I acted out so much when I was younger and all my friends were so disgusted and hurt by me and yelled at me every day

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midnightwriter21 · 11 months

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demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 2

characters: fem!reader x muichiro, sanemi, mitsuri, obanai

AN: this is a pt 2 for the request from @danielle-marie

READ THE FIRST PART HERE

MUICHIRO

I LOVE THIS BABY SM U DONT UNDERSTAND

he's the hashira that ur most comfortable around

he was a hashira before u

but u get promoted and its an instinct

child.

must protect.

at first he probably gets annoyed by you

he's not used to someone caring for him the way that u do

but then one day ur sent on a long mission

maybe a few weeks long

and he finds himself missing something

of course he has no idea what it is that he's missing something

he completely forgot about u

but when you get back to the butterfly estate and he sees u

it clicks

he remembers

he missed you

he missed your overprotective nature

he missed your soft caring voice

he missed the way that you brush and style his hair

he REALLY missed that ^

walks up to u, grabs ur hand and tugs u away

doesn't care if you were talking to someone

and doesn't say a word

brings you to his favorite cloud watching spot with a tight grip on your hand

makes you sit down

and lays his head in ur lap

stop im squealing and kicking my feet from the cuteness

SANEMI

my guyyyyyy

have i ever told yall that i love him?

only in every single thing i post

anyways

he HATES you at first

lmfao rip u

your shy and quiet nature reminds him of giyuu

and if theres one person sanemi can't stand

its giyuu

therefore he don't fw u

and doesn't pay u much attention

UNTILLLLL

he witnesses u pulling genya by the ear to the infirmary after a mission

and telling genya tf off for pulling som stupid shit during the mission

+100 respect right there

not only are u actually talking

but ur screaming??

at his brother??

and taking care of him at the same time?????

my guy is lucky if he doesn't pop a boner right there lmfaooo

starts paying more attention to u after that

and is noticeably a lot nicer and calmer around you

will blush beet red and deny tf out of it if the other hashira comment abt his change of heart

but def develops a soft spot for u

MITSURI

SWEETEST HUMAN BEING TO EVER EXIST EVER

she loves u

ofc she does she's the love hashira

but in mitsuri's mind how could she not absolutely ADORE u

not only are you breathtakingly beautiful in her eyes

but she sees the way u interact with the younger slayers

how u genuinely care for everyone's wellbeing

if she wasn't looking for a husband she would wife u tf UP

she still might lol

mitsuri is gonna go out of her way to become friends with you

she's inviting u to her estate for girl's night with shinobu

she's dragging u along to her favorite restaurant for lunch

she's inviting u to join her at the hot springs to relax

she really enjoys ur presence

even if ur shy she thinks ur very soothing to be around

she loves when you do her hair!!

and when u cook for her??

mitsuri alrdy eats a lot

but if u made the food for her??

girl is not letting a CRUMB go to waste

loves the way u take care of everyone

especially when u take care of her

10/10 would recommend a mitsuri

OBANAI

someone pls love this man

he needs it so bad

so dude had SHIT parents

like bad bad

so when he sees ur interactions with the younger slayers he's prob a lil put off at first

like ma'am?

this is the demon slayer corps??

we don't have time for all ur mothering and coddling

but then he's injured on a mission

and waiting in the infirmary for shinobu to show up and patch him up

and then u bust through the doors???

confused asf

shinobu is on a mission and you've been helping out in the infirmary

so looks like ur the one taking care of him today

and turns out his injury is bad enough to land him an extended stay in his lil hospital bed

and after a few days of u taking care of him

with ur red face and soft stuttered words

he learns that you're not so bad

and he actually enjoys being around you

and being taken care of

won't voice this tho

but when Aoi comes in to give him his meds one day he gives himself away by accident

with a

"where's y/n?"

he's a blushing grumbling mess after that lol

after he discharged best believe the next time he gets injured he's not even going to the infirmary

he's hunting u tf down

nobody else gets to take care of him except YOU

and thats period.

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queenofthearchipelago · 8 months

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What gets me the most about the wwdits finale is that while Nandor didn't know that Guillermo had Derek turn him into a vampire, he literally knew everything else.

He knew that the Van Helsing blood would fight the vampire cells and he knew that the only way to fix that was to drink human blood. He knew that Guillermo wouldn't do well as a vampire, at least that he wasn't ready and he didn't even hesitate to try and fix it for him. He instantly reached for the Djinn, and when that didn't work, he very intelligently made up a vampire tradition that would allow Guillermo to have a choice.

And when Guillermo couldn't go through with what was required to make that choice, Nandor essentially said, I know you. I know you can't kill him, not like this, and I know you want me to do it for you because you need me to do it for you.

And after it's done, Nandor tells him he knows it was hard but he thinks Guillermo made the right decision for himself. It's been 13 years, but he isn't ready. And then Nandor walks away to give Guillermo the space he needs to process all of that.

In this episode Nandor proved beyond all doubt that he is the smartest vampire here. He's the oldest and he's not been careless about his choices with Guillermo. He kept telling him that "He was getting around to it." But that was clearly to avoid saying that Guillermo wasn't ready yet.

And despite that, he's clearly been thinking about it. That, hey, when I do eventually turn him, because we both want that (Nandor doesn't want to lose Guillermo to old age and Guillermo does ultimately want to be a vampire), I'm gonna have to figure out how to combat the Van Helsing blood with the vampire cells.

And when it came down to it, he knew just what to do to make Guillermo human again. He knew that killing Derek would only age Guillermo by a month, not kill him.

Nandor has been paying attention this whole time. He's smart. He knows a lot more than he ever let onto before. And despite his anger at first, he did the kind thing.

I look forward to where this relationship goes from here. Because it isn't going back to how it was before. Guillermo can't just go back to being a frustrated familiar. Nandor can't go back to pretending his protectiveness is dismissal. Nandor proved here just how much he cares by throwing out all vampire tradition (as he's done before, but never like this). And Guillermo was at the mercy of a community he so desperately wanted to join but simply couldn't do it.

I don't know who they are after this, but I hope it's more honest and emotional. I hope they actually talk about what it is to be a vampire, and how does Nandor do it. I hope they talk about why Guillermo wants this so badly. I want them to talk about why does Guillermo want this with Nandor so badly, because it's clear to everyone this is more than a regular familiar and master relationship. I want them to talk about what Nandor is hoping for after all of this. To know that Guillermo isn't ready, and maybe he'll never be ready, but he doesn't want to lose him. So what does he want?

They subverted all the tropes so hard that I genuinely don't know where we go from here. Somewhere new, I suppose. What a thrill

#wwdits #wwdits spoilers #nandor #Guillermo #nandermo #nandor the relentless #thoughtsfromthequeen

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asmosmainhoe · 4 months

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Hiii! I hope you're doing well 🫶💍

Can I please ask your headcannons about how would lucifer, mammon, satan, beel, diavolo and barbatos react if MC offers to put chapstick on their lips?

I know it's a strange ask, but imagine this scenario: It's gotten really cold suddenly (in? On? At?) the devildom and MC notices said character has chapped lips and seems very uncomfortable with it. She offers them her (can be gn!reader but I'm using she/her for better explaining) chapstick and they deny, but she insistist in putting on them, and they feel giddy because she's caring so softly for them 😭😭😭

I'm feeling the vibe of soft casual love today. It's okay if you don't answer, but I'd be really happy if you did! Lots of love, stay warm 🩷🩷🩷

MC offers their chapstick

Note: Huh my motivation is partly back

Gender: neutral

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Lucifer

He says that he doesn't need it of course even though he really does and you offering your chapstick makes him notice his dry lips even more

You already left him so he could continue to work in peace, but your words simply don't let him go

His tongue keeps darting out to lick over his lips which makes it only worse and the feeling bothers him more with every second

Only half an hour passes until he looks for you around the house to ask if the offer still stands

Mammon

WHAT?! YOUR CHAPSTICK?! BUT IT WAS ON YOUR LIPS FIRST! SO IT WOULD BE LIKE A KISS MQJSBAJAN

He immediately short circuits and isn't responding for a couple seconds

"If you're really insistin'."

Mammon snatches the chapstick away from you and puts on a thick layer

"I actually thought that I could put it on you, but that works too I guess."

He's devastated

You better be prepared to share it some more in the future, because he will ask for it on a regular basis and don't even think about buying him one. He wants yours

Satan

A light blush is forming on his cheeks and ears upon your offer, but he'd be a fool to decline it. It's the closest he can get to a kiss for now after all especially when you get so close to his face to put it on

He takes an extra moment to rub his lips properly together and is surprised by the pleasant taste. Would a kiss taste like this as well? The thought alone makes him become even more red

"Should I buy you one too?"

"No, but thank you. I don't need it that often."

Wrong! He just wants an excuse to use yours

Beelzebub

Of course he's not one to say no to that! It's so kind of your to offer it in the first place. Not many people are paying as much attention to him as you do

Much to your surprise though Beel leans forward with his eyes closed which makes you think for a second that he's actually about to kiss you

Beel shoots a small smile in your direction as he thanks you. Ugh, so handsome...

You make sure to offer him your chapstick more often in the future

Diavolo

"Oh, I didn't even notice that my lips are so dry!"

"So can I put it on then?"

"Absolutely!"

Much like Beel he has to bend over a little bit so you could reach him better

Being this close to him really makes you realize just how attractive he is. As if having the prince of hell only inches away from your face isn't intimidating enough

But he seems to genuinely enjoy it

Barbatos

No idea how this man manages to take such good care of his appearance while handling so many tasks

So it's kind of a big thing when you notice that his lips are super dry AND HE EVEN APOLOGIZES FOR "BEING SUCH A MESS" LIKE BABE IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL

"Thank you so much for pointing it out. Could you maybe be so kind and put it on for me? I'm afraid my hands are full at the moment."

ANYTHING FOR YOU, LOVE

It's a short moment, but somehow incredibly intimate

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tblsomedoodles · 1 year

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Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.

(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)

(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))

I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.

I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.

Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.

And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)

Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.

Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.

they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.

(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)

as for Meeting Mikey

That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)

Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).

They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.

Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.

(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)

Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)

#tmnt #rottmnt #my doodles #rise michelangelo #rise leonardo #rise donatello #Mikey's imaginary friends #b/c if i don't tag it with somethign now #i'll probably loose it in my mess of a blog #anyways #here you go #i should be doing a speedpaint rn #instead i drew all this #i'll do the speedpaint later today

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

Do you think that Team Blue Lock would stare if their girlfriend gets soaked in the rain? How would they act? Would they bring her home?

This could be both cute and spicy so I'll sprinkle in a bit of both.

Pairing: Yoichi Isagi, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Hyoma Chigiri, Kunigami Rensuke, Mikage Reo, Nagi Seishiro x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, awkward boner mentioned, kissing, slightly suggestive, bathing, literal sleeping together

A/N: Most of this is pure fluff but there are some slightly suggestive bits. Nothing explicit but just a little something to give you a taste.

Isagi wanted to wait until the rain stopped, he knew it would get pretty bad if you left now but you pulled him along anyway, insisting on getting home because you had a surprise waiting for him. Granted your house was close but you still got wet from the rain. He stared a little as you opened the door but looked away quickly, not wanting to seem like a pervert. Now was not the time to stare. That can happen after you've given him his surprise, your first time.

Bachira looked at you a little, of course he did. He didn't hide the fact that he was very attracted to you. At the same time he knew it's not good for you to stay like this so he quickly accompanied you home. He waited in your room, on your bed, as you took a warm bath. He got wet too but he could just warm up and he'll be fine. He did take one of your oversized hoodies though. He looked so goofy, sitting cross-legged on your bed, wearing a cat-eared hoodie and boxers.

Sae quickly takes you to his place, him staring at you while you're soaked through is just the kind of thing people want to catch him doing to write the next story. No way in hell is he giving them that, moreover he's not letting anyone else see you like this. Your shirt, so wet that he can see your bra, is for his eyes only. As wonderful and ravishing as you may look right now, and as hard as he is right now, his first priority is getting you warmed up. You can use his shower, his towel, his shampoo, anything you want while he finds you a shirt you can wear.

Rin immediately pulls you against his chest and pulls the side of his uniform jacket over your head, keeping you close while making way to your place. He doesn't really care if he gets wet but he would like to take a shower as quick as possible to prevent getting sick. You first though. A thing that he didn't anticipate is both of you currently being alone, fresh out of a shower and wearing very little clothes. Or how his body would react to a sight of you wearing only a single shirt and panties. A little embarrassing for him, especially when you laugh and reach for it, offering your assistance.

Chigiri knows you can't run as fast as him so he throws caution to the wind, picks you up bridal style and makes a run for his house. It's not the safest thing to do but it's the only thing he thought of on the spot. He was pretty winded after that kind of fun, not so much to not accept a kiss from you, or to return it while you looped your arms around his neck. It's getting pretty stormy out there and he doesn't think making another run would be good for anyone, so why don't you stay the night. He'll warm you up real good. By cuddling of course, get your mind out of the gutter. Unless... you ask politely.

Kunigami blushes a lot when he notices how wet your clothes really got by the time you got to his house. Man it was raining just a little when you started walking too, who knew it would pick up this fact. You chuckle at the choice of his words, him being confused until he follows your line of sight. Oh. Oh! Pay no attention to that, he'll take care of it. You just go take a bath before you get cold. He gets even hotter and more flustered when you suggest taking a bath together. That certainly is an option. And it would warm you both up faster. Fine but don't stare at him, otherwise he won't be able to hold back.

Reo could have sworn he packed an umbrella. Oh well, you made it back to school before it got too bad but... there's very few students and staff members left, most of them waiting for the rain to stop or to be picked up by someone. His uniform didn't get too wet and he has his gym clothes from the day so if you want to he can lend you those. He won't peak while you change of course, he'll be the perfect gentleman about it. At least he tried to be but he failed to consider the fact that you won't be wearing a bra underneath the shirt anymore.

Nagi stayed home that day and was very surprised to see you soaked from rain on his doorstep. Homework could have waited, you shouldn't have visited him right now. Oh he wasn't sick he was just too tired to go that day. You on the other hand will get sick if he doesn't get those wet clothes off you soon. He didn't mean that to sound perverted he's just really worried about you. While you take a bath he'll make you something warm to drink, then you can come to bed with him and he'll warm you up with his body.

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sophiethewitch1 · 4 months

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.

You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.

“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.

Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.

“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.

“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.

“Who is this?”

He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”

“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.

“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”

“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?

He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”

“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.

“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”

He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.

You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.

You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.

…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.

Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.

You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.

Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.

You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.

A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.

The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.

You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.

Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.

So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?

Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?

You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.

Wait, Molly!

You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.

It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.

You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!

You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.

BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’

BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’

‘Alfred :)’

BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’

You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.

The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.

As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.

‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’

You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.

‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’

Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.

‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’

And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.

‘The only acceptable one.’

…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.

The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.

You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.

You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’

She wants to what?

A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.

You creep over to the door.

“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.

You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.

Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.

She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.

“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”

You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”

She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.

Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.

She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.

You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.

Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.

“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.

You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.

You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.

You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.

“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.

Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.

“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”

“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.

Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.

You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’

“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.

‘Normal you’ certainly does.

“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.

This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.

The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.

You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.

You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…

In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.

You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.

Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.

You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.

You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.

You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?

Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”

You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.

You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.

Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.

A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.

The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.

Still, this is a bit…

“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.

“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.

“Yes, please.”

She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.

“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.

She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.

You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.

You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.

The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.

She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.

They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.

“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.

Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.

“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.

Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.

“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.

If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.

You wish Molly were here.

“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”

And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.

They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.

They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.

And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.

You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.

They’d gotten rid of the signs.

You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.

Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.

So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.

When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.

It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.

The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.

“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.

What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.

“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”

“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”

“Miss, miss, about your family…!”

Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.

Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.

The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.

Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.

You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.

In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!

You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.

Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.

“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.

The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.

“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”

It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.

“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”

And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say.

“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.

You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.

You are so out of your depth.

You turn back around to Jeanine.

“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.

“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.

“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”

You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.

Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.

You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.

You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.

You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.

You point at the tray, “I want that.”

He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.

“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.

You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.

Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.

Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.

So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.

You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.

Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…

The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.

It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.

It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.

First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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sanjisprincesswifey · 6 months

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romance alphabet ⋆ trafalgar law

summary: what it's like to fall in love with the surgeon of death

a ⋆ affection; how affectionate is he? how does he show his affection?

at the start of the relationship, law almost never shows any affection toward you. he’s helplessly awkward when it comes to lovey-dovey stuff, but after a couple awkward encounters, he’ll gain some confidence and start providing you acts of service.

it’s honestly the little things with law; he’ll bring you a blanket and pillows to nap in his office; he always makes sure you eat, even going as far as to make you meals when you’re hungry; anything you desire, law will provide.

b ⋆ best quality; what's his best quality as a romantic partner and why?

law is an incredible listener. he is always paying attention to what you say no matter the time or place. he always remembers the smallest of details, which of most you didn’t even remember yourself. by knowing every detail about you, it’s his way of showing you how much he cares.

c ⋆ confession; would he confess his feelings first? if so, how would he confess?

lmao no. he’d rather roll over in his grave than tell you he likes you.

the only way you’d find out is through someone else (bepo).

d ⋆ dating; what is it like to date him? how is he as a romantic partner?

in the beginning, it feels as if your relationship is stagnant, nothing really changes from just being friends. until one late night when he asks if you want to see his coin collection or his comic books and it’s like his whole personality does a complete 180 on you, seemingly out of nowhere. suddenly you’re dating a complete nerd who is (un)secretly obsessed with you.

law’s definitely the type to remember all the little things you say, has a journal full of your favorite things, but rarely opts to be overly romantic. he would give you a present that reminds you of someone special to you and treat it as “no big deal.”

all in all, he’s a bit embarrassed to be romantic, but he’s definitely got the spirit.

e ⋆ emotions; how emotional is he with you? does he show his emotions right away or does it take time for him?

you’re lucky if you get a passive aggressive sigh from law for a very long time. he doesn’t start dropping his walls until a couple months to a year, again, if you’re lucky.

poor baby is so afraid to show you any real emotion because of all his unresolved trauma, so just be patient with him.

f ⋆ flirt; how good is he at flirting? does he flirt well or often?

oh my god, no; it’s the opposite in fact. he’s terrible, genuinely terrible.

he’s awkward, stuttery, sweaty, and kinda just stares at you when he can’t get any words out.

on the rare occasion he’s mediocre at it is when he’s drunk and no other time, you cannot convince me otherwise.

g ⋆ gifts; is he a gift giver? what kind of gifts does he enjoy giving you?

yes, but he’s not so much for the pageantry so they’ll be subtle; a new blanket on the bed for you, a framed photo of the two of you suddenly appearing on your nightstand, stuff like that.

h ⋆ hugs; does he hug you a lot? what are his hugs like?

he loves to hug you only when you're in the privacy of his room on the polar tang. he doesn't care much for the affection otherwise, that's what he tells you anyway. you later learn he's just embarrassed to be so romantic otherwise given his reputation.

since law towers over you, he practically throws his body weight into you when you hug. he wraps his arms around your waist, tightly clinging to you as his head droops into your shoulder. the majority of his body weight is now shoved into your shoulder like the big 26-year-old baby he is.

i ⋆ i love you; does he tell you that he loves you first?

again, i have to laugh, but no. maybe subtly, but never, ever directly and he will never say the actual words. he’ll be more ‘romantic’ or whatever his version of romantic is (being more attentive), and then the crew will catch on. law definitely talks about you way too much to the crew and they'll all realize that he loves you before you do.

j ⋆ jealousy; does he get jealous a lot? if so, for what specific reason?

oh, yes; probably one of the most jealous men in all of one piece, in my opinion.

law is deeply insecure, afraid of love, and has abandonment issues and if he feels even a twinge of jealousy it’s like his heart breaks on the sight.

however, it does take a little bit to get him jealous! he’s not threatened by normal interaction, but if someone was a bit too overly affectionate with you (read: luffy, sanji, or eustass), that’s enough to make him jealous. it’s the act of seeing someone be vulnerable with you the exact same way he is with you that drives him nuts.

k ⋆ kisses; what part of you is his favorite to kiss? how often does he enjoy kissing you?

his favorite is any place that’s intimate and vulnerable; being able to claim you as his because no one else gets to touch you where he does.

you can find law in the crux of your neck almost every night, it’s one of his favorite spots because he can practically breathe in your scent and lovingly kiss the area as much as he likes without getting tired.

after your relationship reaches the point where he’s no longer uncomfortable to show affection it’s like every second of the day with him. you wouldn’t think it by the look of him, but law adores kissing you even if it’s a quick kiss to your forehead in passing. it’s kind of his way of showing you love even when you aren't directly saying it and he gets super whiny when you don’t show him the same affection in return.

l ⋆ love language; what’s his love language?

acts of service. law thinks of it as an incognito way to show affection even when he’s around others. it’ll range from throwing a blanket on you when you “accidentally” fall asleep in his office to offering to aid you on specific tasks “just in case.”

m ⋆ memories; what memories of you two are the most precious to them? why do they treasure them?

it has to be the first night he said, ‘i love you.’ it’s after you had fallen asleep in his arms, your light snores echo around the room.

he has an elbow propped up against the pillow holding his head and the other arm draped around you. your bare skin is so warm against him, it was such a strange sensation compared to the cold air that usually envelopes him in his room.

your calm expression twitches slightly indicating that you had to be dreaming and law hopes it was about him.

his gray eyes were so soft; his facial muscles felt so foreign in such a gentle position, but he couldn’t help it when he was holding you so close to him. knowing that the person before him loved him so much.

that meant so much to him because it was the first time in 14 years that law had finally regained the love he had lost so long ago.

n ⋆ nicknames; what nicknames does he prefer to call you, if any at all?

law is such a ‘doll’ kind of guy. it just falls from his lips like butter and he’s so quick to start calling you that too.

o ⋆ on cloud nine; what is he like when he's in love? how different does he act when he's in love?

when law falls in love with you, it is probably the most confusing time in your relationship. it’s kinda like when the grinch’s heart grows three sizes but instead of accepting it, it scares the hell out of him. he’s extremely avoidant of you and won’t explain anything so you gotta corner him in his office.

he’ll get scared, possibly shed a tear or two and tell you just how terrified of love he is. you can’t really blame him, so you tell him you obviously love him too. he turns into such a clingy, obsessive guy after that. he loves having your attention; his walls really come down and he’ll show you all his nerdy collections like comic books and coins.

when law is finally ready to admit that he’s in love with you, he is the softest and most pure a man could be. he’s vulnerable and feels safe with you, so that means he’s extra protective.

p ⋆ pda; does he openly express pda? how affectionate is he in public?

unfortunately, law hates pda. in fact, law is very adamant on keep your relationship personal and private. due to his traumatic past, law chooses to keep you a secret so as to not put you in harm’s way.

though when you make the alliances that law does, he comes to realize that word will get out eventually. law attempts to threaten luffy to keep your relationship under wraps but, c’mon, it’s luffy.

q ⋆ quirks; what are some things you’ve learned about him since being in a relationship?

he’s very particular about everything; he always needs a solution to every problem. for instance, whenever you two have a disagreement, he’ll be unsatisfied until he has a direct solution for your issue and become frustrated if there isn’t one.

because of his particular-ness, when it’s his turn to plan date nights, they are often planned to a t. you will leave a certain time, the activity will take place at a certain time, etc., you think it’s completely adorable even when he’s frustrated when you’re a minute or two behind schedule.

r ⋆ romance; is he a romantic partner? is he cliché or creative?

contrary to popular belief, law can be quite romantic. he’s a ‘flowers just because kind of guy’ and is extremely creative in the gift-giving sentiment.

he opts for purchasing presents you’d actually enjoy, taking his time and putting energy into a photo album or scrapbook. the gestures from law are always well thought out; it’ll always be work he’s proud of.

s ⋆ smooch; what was your first kiss like? where did it happen and was it planned?

your first kiss is something law wishes you didn’t remember. he waited 26 years to kiss someone, did either of you really think he’d be any good at it?

it, of course, was a bit awkward. you never assume someone could mess up a kiss but somehow, he did.

you were in his office, chair placed closely next to his as you read over whatever book he was fixated on this week.

it was late, the both of you were sleep deprived beyond compare, but every time law glanced over at you reading the page he was, he swore his heart jumped out of his chest.

though the kiss itself was not planned, he spent at least 15 minutes mentally calculating if he should make his move.

when he finally mustered up the courage, he turned to you in an awkward position and just kinda stared between your eyes and your lips.

it doesn’t take long for you to notice your boyfriends gawking and before you can ask him if he’s okay he smushes his lips to yours.

of course, having no prior experience, he doesn’t really move his lips at all and just sits there for a couple of seconds until you pull away.

he’s confused, but he’s definitely got the spirit, so you give him some leeway and show him how it’s done.

the both of you laugh about that memory now, but he still feels embarrassed if he thinks about it for too long.

t ⋆ true love; does he believe you were destined to be together?

nope. he doesn’t believe in fate or astrology or anything of the sort but is definitely open to it if you do.

even if doesn’t believe in any spiritual destiny, he constantly finds himself thanking whoever may be up there that he is lucky enough to have you.

u ⋆ ultimatum; what is a dealbreaker in his relationship?

law needs loyalty. he needs to know that you are his and, more importantly, that he is yours. the hardest part about falling in love for him is that he is terrified that you’ll leave him and having your loyalty reassures him (most times anyway) that you’ll always be by his side.

v ⋆ value; how important is the relationship to him? what is it worth in comparison to other things in his life?

okay, don’t shoot the messenger, but at the start of your relationship law didn’t think that highly of it. due to his lack of emotional affection to or from anyone, he honestly saw no important significance for being in a relationship.

in classic law fashion, nothing really changed between you two until he realized how much your absence affected him. the romantic longing in his heart was such an unfamiliar feeling he mistook it for some kind of heart condition.

eventually law comes to realize that, maybe, someone who is as closed off and lonely as he could fall in love and then he is putty in your hands. the minute he knows he loves you, you become his number one priority. he tries to maintain some of his natural disposition, but he is so desperate to be loved by you that he does anything and everything for you.

w ⋆ wild card; a random relationship headcanon!

law is borderline obsessed with you. he’ll know things about you that you don’t even remember telling him. he’s kind of a freak if we’re being honest.

he steals clothes from your room because they smell like you, takes photos of you without your knowledge so that he can keep them for later, and bought your engagement ring the day he knew he loved you.

obviously, he has no intention of ever telling you any of this because he doesn’t need you to know just how desperate he is for you to love him.

law knows that you’re his and either he’s marrying you or he’s dying alone, no other option.

x ⋆ x-factor; what drew him to you?

law loves how different the two of you are. you aren’t opposites by any means, but the way that your emotional intelligence and situational awareness (especially when it comes to such a brooding man such as himself) differ so greatly from his that it entices something within him. he doesn’t consider you the opposite of him, but he views it as what he lacks, you offer.

he knew you had these qualities from the very beginning, that’s why he asked you to join his crew, but seeing how well they transfer over to your relationship made him swoon even more.

y ⋆ yearning; when does his find himself missing you?

though he never prefers to be put in situations that are rambunctious or crazy, law finds himself missing you most when he’s in them. something about having you there, holding his hand or talking to him makes the situation so much better.

z ⋆ zzz; what is his favorite sleeping position? is he the big spoon or the little spoon?

something about spooning always gives law so much comfort. he loves to cling to you, to have you pulled so tight to chest that you can feel his heartbeat through your back.

while the warmth and closeness being the big spoon provides him is extremely comforting, law does prefer to be the little spoon. when you’re as private and apathetic as law is, he’s practically begging to be held by you. since he rarely gets a good night’s sleep, being in your arms is the best melatonin substitute.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law headcanons #law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader

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itsvelyria · 5 months

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"how the f1 boys are when you work from home"

Charles Leclerc

he'll be pouting by your door the minute you start your work day. the reason for him being particularly clingy is because he doesn't get a lot of time with you already, due to his busy schedule. but now you're right in front of him yet he can't bother you? will puppy-dog-eye his way into keeping your door open so he can peek in occasionally to catch a glimpse of you at least. sometimes he says he's going out to run some errands because he's, after all, an independent adult who can spend a day by himself, but always comes back within an hour because he missed you too much to leave you alone.

Carlos Sainz

the sweetest, most considerate guy on Earth; he makes sure you have your breakfast before your work day, keeps his volume down when you're on a call and always has lunch ready when noon comes around. he will come to drag you out to have lunch with him at the kitchen counter even if you tell him you're too busy to take a break. when you are well-fed and back behind the table, he always pays the coffee shop around the corner a visit to bring you your favourite drink. both because he knows you're fighting a food coma and also to make you take a break.

Danny Ricciardo

your #1 supporter. when he learned you'll start having work from home days, he helped decorate your home office. he spent days reading up on ergonomic chairs and standing desks, even researching plants to brighten up the space. he is huge on work-life balance and always shows up at your door at 5 on the dot to drag you away from your laptop, to the gym or to a new restaurant you had mentioned in passing.

George Russell

by nature a very chill and relaxed guy, he leaves you alone for the most part to do his own thing. he's very extroverted though, so when he appears in the background of your video calls, he'll always says hi to to your colleagues or boss. one time you were on a call with a close colleague and he was putting away some books at the bookshelf behind you, chatted her up about her dog and ended up exchanging social medias, becoming your unexpected networking catalyst. it always brightens up your day because it shows how much he cares for the people in your life.

Lando Norris

he would constantly pop in to see you "needed anything" but honestly he just misses you and wants your attention, even if you're under the same roof. when you banned him from your office, he started sending TikToks and memes from the next room over, threatening to derail your focus but always making you giggle. the kind of partner who would hide Post-Its with funny scribbles and doodles among your work documents and wait for you to find them. when you ask him if he wants to get lunch together, the glee on his face is blinding and he shoots up like a little puppy.

Lewis Hamilton

probably the most mature partner on the grid; he likes the intimacy of quietly working together in a shared space. there's just something about soft classical music in the background while you two are working on your respective projects. the highlight of your day is when you take short breaks together in the kitchen over mugs of coffee — telling him of whatever office gossip you had come across while he rambles on about his upcoming campaign.

Max Verstappen

he is very understanding of how important your career and job is to you. while you work, he'll probably be on his simulator in the living room, making sure he keeps the doors closed so he doesn't disturb you. after a long day of you in your office and him of racing, you two like to have a quiet dinner on the couch with a movie playing. he lets you lie on his lap afterwards, stroking your hair gently as you rant about your workday.

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walpu · 2 months

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I really need more nsfw hcs with Aventurine, maybe a small fix where we praise and kiss all over his body, especially his tattoo <33

Remember to take care of yourself and eat, drink and sleep well, take breaks if you need to :))

Thank you so much 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ Finally having my annual leave so I'm a free person

Sorry if it's too short I'm still recovering 😭

kissing Aventurine's body

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, a lot of body worshipping, soft!Aven, nsfw-y but nothing explicit, no beta

If the two of you are dating, Aventurine would love worshipping your body. Kissing all over it, leaving small marks, nuzzling into your thighs etc.

However, would immediately melt if you would do the same for him.

Like I'm not kidding. Kisses on his face? Can handle it. On his neck? Crumbles a bit but still nothing he can't manage. Kissing the rest of his body? Count him dead.

He's a huge sucker for gentle treatment since no one has ever tried to make him feel loved and cared for.

His body is very sensitive so it's easy to overhelm and overestimate him so. I would say be gentle but it's honestly up to you, he would not complain either way 👀

Would whine a lot if you overestimate him tho. Which is not a bad thing at all since he's adorable when he's needy like that.

May tease you a bit, saying stuff like "my dear, who knew you're so addicted to my body, one would think you want to eat me alive" but his eyes are shining with adoration and hus silly smile completely betrays how giddy he is. Tell him tyou want exactly that and then go down on him he'll die

If you take way too much time focusing on kissing his body, he would cup your face or gently pull on your hair to bring you to his lips. He loves kissing you okay.

Gets a bit emotional when you kiss his tattoo during lovemaking sessions. It's just so overwhelmingly soft for him. Allowing you to do it is an ultimate display of vulnerability on his part.

I have a feeling that he doesn't cover his tattoo in a self-defense way like "if I'm so open about this mark that represents my trauma people won't weaponize it".

But it doesn't mean he likes when people pay special attention to it.

So yeah by allowing you to kiss it and nuzzle into it he shows that he trusts you, that he doesn't mind being so open with you.

To him it's also an ultimate proof that you love him whole, even the ugly painful parts.

#can't believe im alive #Hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #reader insert #walp's writing

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reiderwriter · 9 months

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Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #requested #🥺 Anon

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girlgenius1111 · 2 months

Text

prove yourself

cata coll x reader r realizes cata has a protective streak, while r does not. she tries to remedy this, although it doesn't go exactly to plan. cw: creepy entitled man being gross at a bar in this. he gets a little touchy, and is promptly dealt with.

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It began with a seemingly harmless comment from Pina on whether similar or different people made better partners. You spent a lot of time with your girlfriend, and you’d picked up little mannerisms that the other had. As such, you thought that the two of you were more similar than you actually were.

“You and Cata are complete opposites. Cata is a hot head, she’d get into a fist fight in a second for you. You’ve watched people push her to the pitch and not lost your temper.”

You’d brushed the comment off, making a joke about how if she was right, Pina needed to find herself the most serious, most calm person on earth.

It had stuck with you, though. Was this something everyone thought? That you weren’t protective over Cata when she was with you? Did Cata think that? That you didn’t care enough to be that way? It wasn’t true, it definitely wasn’t true. You cared more for Cata than you thought possible, than you’d ever felt for anyone in all your years. Every cell, every molecule in your body loved Cata.

And sure, you were a calm person. Not outwardly aggressive on the pitch, or anywhere really. That was your reputation; cool under pressure. You shook everything off, took nothing personally. You’d never so much as had a cross word with another player on the pitch, or off of it. You didn’t argue, and you didn’t fight. Ever.

For Cata, though? For her, you’d light a match and watch the whole world burn. Cata was worth it, worth everything. It scared you that she might not know that, scared you just in general, how deeply you loved her, how all consuming it was.

As it stood, you weren’t planning on doing anything about it. Maybe you’d talk to Cata about it at some point, but you were very much someone who kept things to themselves. If you had a problem, it took a lot of coaxing from your girlfriend to get you to talk about it.

It really wasn’t intentional, what happened. A combination of things pushed the situation out of control, the biggest of them being your sudden, inexplicable insistence to protect your girlfriend.

Cata was a partier. It was well known; put her and Pina together, and combine an important win? Everyone was waking up with a hangover the next morning, whether they wanted to or not. You were very used to how rowdy she’d get in clubs, but for her part, she never really let you out of her sight. It wasn’t odd for her to get wildly possessive of you on a night out, glaring at anyone that glanced at you for too long. It had always made you feel special, but now, you were wondering if Cata wanted the same behavior from you.

The team was, as expected, out celebrating the latest El Clásico win. Cata had kept a clean sheet, and was very much looking forward to letting loose for the evening. You’d all found yourselves in a familiar club in the heart of Barcelona. The entire team was there, even Alexia, though you suspected she came to keep an eye on everyone.

For your part, you’d done well to push your current crisis out of your head, instead focusing on the spectacular performance of your girlfriend, and your own performance, which wasn’t half bad. You were in for a fun night with Cata, if not a long morning of babying her hangover, until some disgusting man decided the goalkeeper’s tight leather pants were an invitation.

Cata was further from you than she liked to be on nights out, but she’d gone up to the bar with Mario to get more drinks, and had left you safely seated next to Alexia. You watched very carefully as the man approached Cata and Mario, neither of them paying him very much attention. Even when he leaned in closer to your girlfriend, you weren’t too worried. Cata leaned away from him instinctually, stepping closer into Mario.

“Come on, beautiful, let me have your number. I can show you a good time.” He was so drunk he was slurring his words, practically falling over.

“No thanks.” Cata said back. There was a time she would have embarrassed the man, nudged him away and made a joke at his expense, but she was older, now, and more aware of how poorly that could end for her. She kept it polite and quick, trying not to show how uncomfortable she was with the man in her space.

He seemed to back off, for a second, and Cata moved away from Mario to grab 2 of the drinks the bartender was holding out for her. As soon as her back was the man opposite her, his hand was moving quickly. You blinked, almost stunned at the audacity of the man who had just gratuitously slapped your girlfriend’s ass. He must have been the stupidest man on earth, truly, seeing as though Mario instantly pushed Cata behind her and squared up to the taller man. Mariona Caldentey was an intimidating person when she wasn’t grinning from ear to ear, and she definitely wasn’t doing so now, giving the man a harsh shove to the chest.

Alexia was moving too, blinking when you beat her out of the chair, rushing off towards Cata. She, and everyone else watching the situation unfold, expected you to go to your girlfriend. They were all stunned, then, when you walked up to the atrocious man smiling smugly down at Mario, pushed your teammate gently out of the way, before balling your hand and swinging, your fist connecting with its target with a loud, revolting crunch.

How dare he lay a hand on Cata, on your Cata. Only you were allowed to slap her ass, and only when she said she wanted you to. You were angrier than you’d ever felt, but regardless, throwing that punch hadn’t been your first instinct. You’d been moving to check on Cata, when you remembered Pina’s words from earlier, and realized that this was your chance to prove to everyone, Cata most importantly, that you were just as dedicated, and just as protective of her as she was of you.

You’d had better ideas. That was clear as the man staggered backwards, and as your knuckles felt like they were splintering open. The bartender had watched the whole thing occur, and didn’t say anything as the man stumbled back towards his friends, embarrassed, clutching tightly to his nose.

“What the hell was that? He was twice your size, idiota,” Alexia scolded, spinning you around to inspect your hand as well as she could in the dim lighting. She was quickly, and unceremoniously, knocked out of the way as Cata rushed to your side, the shock of seeing you deck a grown man wearing off. Alexia gave Cata an unimpressed look, but told Cata to get you home safe, before dragging Mario, who was practically doubled over laughing, back over to the table.

Cata didn’t speak, a rarity for her, simply taking your hand very gently in hers and looking at you with an almost heartbreakingly concerned look on her face. Your hand really fucking hurt. You were pretty sure it was broken, but your attention was on Cata.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, mind not focused on your throbbing hand, but on your sweet girlfriend, who liked to act a lot tougher than she really was.

“I’m fine, really. Let’s go, you need a doctor.” The goalkeeper didn’t wait for a response, pulling you towards the door, past the table of your teammates. You noticed Mario giving a rather dramatic retelling of the event, just barely catching the look of joy and wonder on Mapi’s face at the news that you’d punched someone. Honestly, your teammates were all children.

“Baby, you’re drunk, you shouldn’t drive.” You reminded her, as she opened the passenger door to her car for you. You’d been planning on driving home, but with your hand the way it was, that didn’t seem all that likely.

“I’m not drunk, I didn’t even finish my first drink. We have dinner with your parents tomorrow night, I didn’t want to be hungover.” Cata dismissed, getting into the driver's seat and glancing anxiously at you. You were almost speechless at this, as Cata wasn’t really one to to think ahead to the consequences of being hungover. You smiled weakly at her, blinking away a few tears, both at how well your girlfriend loved you, and at how your hand was beginning to have its own heartbeat.

The goalkeeper leaned across the center console, pecking your cheek, before starting the car and driving in the direction of the hospital.

-----

It wasn’t that Cata seemed mad, per say, she was just being… odd. Not really in a way that would be clear to anyone else, but you knew her well enough to recognize the far off expression on her face as one she got when she was nervous. You decided the incident in the bar had upset her more than she was willing to admit, and vowed to bring it up again when you arrived home. As for now, you sat in the car, heading home from the hospital, with your arm carefully cradled against your chest, encased in a blue cast.Blue, as you’d insisted upon, and marked with a heart, as Cata had insisted. She’d charmed one of the nurses at the hospital into bringing her a sharpie, and had carefully inked the heart into the plaster, her tongue sticking out of her mouth adorably as she concentrated. Once she was satisfied, and you’d been discharged, she’d led you out of the hospital, keeping you pressed close to her body. She buckled your seatbelt for you, even though you were more than capable.

It came so easily to her, it seemed, being protective and taking care of you. She just knew what to do; knew to guide you into the house, knew to get you something to eat before leading you upstairs. She knew to help you get your pajamas on, the pain meds the hospital had prescribed made you a bit woozy, but knew to still let you do most of the work, knowing you hated to feel hovered over. That just wasn’t your skillset. You took care of Cata, yes, but in different ways. Ways that didn’t seem as significant, or as meaningful.

You were getting tired of her acting so weird, though. She came at you with a makeup wipe and even when she was gazing down at your face, meticulously cleaning it off, she avoided eye contact with you. If there was one thing you were good at, it was getting Cata to talk to you.

“You’re upset.”

She paused, nodding minutely, before moving away from you to discard the makeup wipe, and grab your skincare routine from the bathroom. You waited until she was back in front of you, smearing on your moisturizer, before speaking again.

“You’re allowed to be upset, Cata. That was a horrible experience.”

Her expression was still guarded, even as she nodded again. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

You shook your head. “No, I mean what happened, Cata. What that dick did.”

Cata gave you a weird look. “I’m not upset about that, bebé.”

At this, you pushed her hands away from your face, giving her a disbelieving look.

She doubled down. “I’m not. It was gross and I probably would have hit him if you hadn’t. I’m upset that you got hurt, though. That you got hurt for me.” She explained, sitting carefully next to you, as if the gentle movement of the bed under you would jostle your arm in a painful way. She was always so careful with you.

You thought she’d be happy. Not happy that you were hurt, but happy you stood up for her. You were convinced you’d be filling a gap that she’d felt, that she wouldn’t focus on your broken hand when she could focus on what you’d done for her.

“If he’d slapped my ass instead, what would you have done?” You asked after a minute, looking up at your girlfriend’s face.

Her eyebrows creased with anger at the mere thought, and there was no ounce of uncertainty in her tone. “Murder.”

You stifled a laugh, completely sure that she was serious.

“Then what’s the difference?”

“The difference is that it’s you.” Cata said rather harshly, looking at you with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing on her face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

That stung, even if you knew she hadn’t meant it in the way it sounded. You rose from the bed, feeling embarrassment wash over you as you tried to leave the room.

“Okay, got it. Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Amor, no.” Cata sighed, grabbing your good hand and wrenching you back towards her. You stumbled slightly, only blushing more as you practically fell into your girlfriend’s lap. “I just meant… I protect you, okay? You don’t need to worry about me. I don’t want you to get hurt, even if it’s for me.”

You were quiet, not convinced. Cata looked at you searchingly for a minute, before her hand raised, pointer finger tracing a light pattern across your cheek until you raised your head to look at her.

“What is this about? You’ve never done something like this before.”

“I just thought that… maybe it bothered you. That I’m not as protective towards you. ”

“No, no. It doesn’t bother me. I like it. It feels like my job, to keep you safe. This special thing that I can do to make you feel safe.” Cata emphasized, her fingers tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, her eyes looking at you with an adorable scrunch as she tried to get her point across.

“You don’t want me to be that for you, too?” You asked.

“You don’t need to punch people for me to feel safe, you do that in… different ways. You’re soft, and you’re perfect. You give the best hugs, and you make me feel better just by speaking. I don’t need you to beat anyone up for me. I just need you.” The goalkeeper responded softly, her voice growing quiet in the way it did whenever she expressed a vulnerability. “You don’t need to prove your love for me, bebé. I feel it all the time.”

At this, you leaned forward, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Her arms wrapped snugly around you, and Cata pressed her face into your hair, inhaling deeply, rather satisfied with herself for making you feel better.

“You always know what to say.” You mumbled. “And you look hot when you’re mad.”

Cata pulled away, throwing her head back and laughing. “You do too, bebé. I like you uninjured, though, so no more fights until I teach you how to punch.”

“I know how to punch!!” You cried resentfully, trying hard to keep a frown on your face.

When Cata’s eyes flickered between your face and your broken hand, a smirk tugging at her lips, you broke, laughing as you leaned back down against her.

“Fine. I don’t know how to punch.” You admitted begrudgingly.

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to. I’ll always be there to throw punches for you, sí?”

You were sure she would be. Cata loved a fight, on or off the pitch, but more than anything, she loved taking care of you.

-----

:) cata 🙂🫶🏻

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #cata coll x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics

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purple-babygirl · 2 months

Text

don't call me daddy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 4,826

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, crying, mentions of hot liquid getting on skin, crying, mentions of the r-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares

A/N: so this is an idea I've had for forever and I finally mustered up enough courage to share it with you guys. Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you have anything you'd like to suggest for the upcoming parts. I love you 💜

“This sounds stupid,” Bucky grumbled when Sam suggested the program.

“It's not stupid, Buck and it works!”

“If it worked for you doesn't mean it's gonna work for me, Sam. You have patience and it's in your nature to want to take care of people.”

“Says the one who looked out for Steve all his life!”

“Steve was one person and he was actually dumb, he wasn’t acting like he can't fucking feed himself!”

“They're not acting. They're age regressed.” Sam tried to remain calm.

“What does that even mean!”

“It means-”

“You know what? I don't care because I'm not doing it.” Bucky smiled before leaving Sam's house and going back to hide in his own.

But Sam was persistent. He was determined to get Bucky help that would actually help. So he suggested the program to Bucky's therapist and before Bucky could punch him, she was having him sign the contract.

“Sam, I don't wanna meet anyone. It's not gonna work anyway so let's just pick any of them.”

“They're not service dogs, Bucky!”

“Really? Because that's exactly what it sounds like they are to me.”

Sam glared at him, elbowing his side as a short lady with a kind smile approached them.

Bucky didn't pay her much attention. He didn't want to be here and he didn't care what she was reciting.

Only thing that caught his attention was when she asked him what age he would prefer so she could introduce him to a group of littles.

He was dreading this. It was stupid.

“…what are you looking for?” Bucky caught the end of her talk with Sam.

“I don't know, someone who can talk like they're not retarded,” he answered the lady rudely and she smiled in understanding when Sam apologized.

“They're not retarded. All of them are perfectly healthy and okay. They're age regressed,” she told Bucky and he rolled his eyes so hard he felt they might never return from the back of his head.

He hated those two words. Age regressed, what the fuck did that even mean?

“Maybe we can meet some of the littles who are not so young, like 6 year olds?” Sam suggested and she nodded, leading them to a building with long corridors and lots of doors.

Bucky could see adult women and men playing with dolls, sleeping with pacifiers and some of them even had other people feeding them.

What the hell was this place? Did they expect him to do that? With a person perfectly capable of handling his or her own self but chooses not to?! Was this the 21st century? Because he didn’t like it very much.

The lady led them inside her office and got a group of files out of some organized drawer. She'd barely laid them out on the table before Bucky was slamming his finger on one.

“We'll take this one,” he said, staring at the lady in disinterest.

“But you haven't even seen them,” Sam said between his teeth, kicking his leg under the table. He wished Bucky cared enough to do this right.

“I've seen enough. I pick this file and I wanna leave,” Bucky seethed back.

“This is Doll. She's one of the softest littles I've ever met and I think you've made a great choice, Mr. Barnes.”

“You call her Doll?”

“Yes, real names aren't revealed for the privacy of our littles unless they decide otherwise and she chose the name herself when she joined us.” The lady smiled kindly, making Bucky even madder.

“Whatever, let's get this over with. Tell her to come so we could leave.”

“Mr. Barnes, I have to admit your attitude towards this is very concerning and I fear I cannot risk the peace of our littles who confide in us to find them safe partners! Like I said she's one of the gentlest and I need to know you're going to treat her right before I even let you meet her!” The woman voiced her concerns and Bucky sighed.

He couldn't blow this now. He's come far enough with this whole process and if he went back to his therapist like that she was definitely going to get out her dreadful notebook.

He had to take this girl home tonight or else they would make him go through this same process over and over again.

“I'm sorry, I'm just a little confused, I guess.” Bucky scratched his beard.

“That's okay.” She smiled again, “most of our visitors are, but you can always ask.”

“Well- what is wrong with them?!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands in the air. Sam kicked him again and glared.

“What? She said I could ask!”

“It's okay,” she told Sam with a chuckle.

“Nothing is wrong with them. Them regressing in age is their way to cope and relieve anxiety or deal with other mental illnesses such as traumatic experiences, or even just stress. It's a freer, calmer state of mind for them to return to when it's no longer easy for them to be big.”

Her calm, kind manner while explaining this made Bucky even angrier inside. This wasn’t normal and they should all stop acting like it was.

“So they're supposed to be helping me with my issues but they're dealing with their own issues?”

Like he originally thought, this was stupid.

“Yes, it's a mutual helping program.” The lady confirmed.

“Oh. And what's this Doll's issue?”

“Doll reverts to age regression as a coping mechanism for her depression and PTSD. She's been doing great lately actually!”

“Is she suddenly gonna go grownup or-?” Bucky continued, involuntarily asking every question on his mind.

“No, like I said, Doll reverts to little space for the comfort and safety of it and while she can coax herself out of her headspace, she rarely ever chooses to.”

“But she can?”

“Yes. But I need to tell you, Mr. Barnes, that this is not why you're here.” She reminded, wanting to ensure the safety of self expression for the little one.

“I know.”

“I also need you to promise me to be a good caregiver for her. She's a sweet girl and I can guarantee she will be good for you.”

“I promise.” Bucky knew he was lying but he couldn’t care less about his honesty at the moment.

“And it’s never acceptable to make fun of her or try to force her into a more grownup headspace. That only makes it worse and her mind regresses further.”

“So what she becomes younger?!” he was trying so hard not to get frustrated, why make him!

“That's correct.” She nodded.

“How young?” Sam asked.

“The youngest she's ever been is 4.”

“Oh.” Great. Just great.

“She can still talk just fine,” she reassured them, knowing Bucky didn't want anyone who couldn't talk or seemed 'retarded'.

“Okay, good.” Bucky nodded, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible.

“Would you like to meet Doll now or do you wanna take a look at the rest of the files?”

“I'll meet her.” Bucky stood up, hand already at the doorknob.

The meeting thing went relatively well and Bucky was surprised the girl wasn't intimidated by his frown or intense stare. She was mesmerized by the metal arm even.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he still thought this whole thing was dumb but he needed to convince his therapist and everyone that he was okay again so they'd leave him alone.

She didn’t ask him any questions or have any conditions. She just stared at him with wide, sparkly eyes.

A minute later he heard the girl whisper her agreement to the short lady.

Apparently, she was big enough to make the decision to leave with a strange man she didn't know but not enough to properly dress herself or sleep without a damn toy.

Bucky was relieved anyway; glad she was idiotic enough to choose him so he wouldn't have to meet with any other 'littles'. And she wasn't ugly to look at either.

The old lady had a word with her privately before she was packing a bag and they were on their way to Bucky’s place.

“Where do I stay, daddy?”

Bucky hasn’t said a word to her since they’d left the institution. He made her carry her bag from the car to the elevator and from the elevator inside the apartment. He wasn’t going to be nobody’s maid.

She was physically capable and that didn’t need a professional to see it.

“I don’t know, figure it out.” Bucky shrugged, kicking his shoes off by the door and stepping inside.

She followed his lead and neatly placed her shoes at the corner by the door as well.

“Where do you want me to stay, daddy?” she asked politely, wanting to make him comfortable, seeing he was the owner of the house.

He was making her a little nervous.

This wasn’t his energy back at the institution and she tried her best not to get scared.

“I don't want you. I never did,” Bucky told her the minute she sat on his couch, throwing his keys on the wooden coffee table, “We're just gonna pretend your presence here is changing something and then I'm gonna return you.”

I don't want you.

She's definitely heard that before.

Return her. Like she was some sort of item. She wasn't what he wanted and it cracked her trained-to-love heart.

“Yes, daddy,” she replied brokenly, tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes.

Nothing was worse than feeling unwanted.

“Don't call me that.” Bucky snapped.

“B-But you're my daddy.” She was seriously confused now. Why would he pick her if he didn’t want this?

“I'm not your anything and stop acting so small, you look grown up enough to me.”

Why did he take her home if he didn’t like her and didn’t want to be her Daddy?

“I'm not acting.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt more insecure than ever.

“Yeah, yeah, you're age regressed. Whatever, just don't call me that. I'm no one's daddy.” Bucky took his shirt off throwing it on the couch beside her, making her flinch.

“But what should I call you if not-”

“Call me Mr. Barnes, if you're so keen on being polite.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She sniffled.

“And stop crying.” He huffed.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly wiped at her face, holding the rest of her tears inside and forcing the lump in her throat further down.

Bucky muttered something under his breath before snatching his shirt and leaving to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as she flinched again.

He didn't say she was a good girl for calling him what he wanted, or for stopping her crying when she was told to. He didn't like her and he wanted to return her.

What was she supposed to do until he sent her back? He didn't want her help even if they said he needed it.

Was it going to be like this for the next 3 months? How was she going to do all of the grown up stuff if Daddy Mr. Barnes didn't help her? How was she going to live? And why did she still care to try her best to be good for the harsh, blue-eyed man?

She didn’t know what to do so she sloppily changed her clothes by herself, putting her socks in the hamper to be washed like a good girl.

She washed her hands and feet by herself, unknowingly making Bucky think he was right all along about letting her do things on her own as she should.

That was until he put a hot cup of instant noodles before her for dinner though. He refused to help her eat and she accidentally spilled hot soup over her hand and the wooden table. It was chaos.

Bucky cursed out loud and she started crying in pain.

He had enough pity on her to drag her to the bathroom and put her hand under the cold water. If his hold on her arm hurt, she didn’t say anything.

“Keep it there, don’t you dare move.”

“Mr. Barnes, don’t leave,” she sniffled, eyes red and in pain.

“I’m not leaving you in the Sahara desert.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “I gotta go clean the mess you made.” He left her in the bathroom and she kept her hand under the water, not daring to move like she was told.

“How hard is it to eat fucking noodles! It’s not quantum physics!”

Bucky muttered angrily as he wiped the soup off the table with a cloth.

“Fuck that age regression shit I am done!” he took their noodle cups to the kitchen and dumped both in the bin.

“What are you still doing in there! It’s not like you got burnt by lava!” Bucky shouted to her, walking to the bathroom.

“I- I- Mr. Barnes, you told me not to move.” She began crying again at his angry demeanor.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky groaned, “do you ever stop crying?!”

“I’m s-sorry.” She hiccupped. She didn’t know what to say or how to please him she just wanted him to stop glaring at her. She was scared.

“Get out of there and dry your hands,” Bucky told her, sitting on the couch with a sigh.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Came her chocked whisper.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked when she came out of the bathroom, tears drying on her cheeks.

The question surprised her. Maybe he did care after all.

“Burns a little,” she told him, pointing to the back of her hand where the skin got burnt.

“I might have a cream here somewhere,” he said, trying his best to keep an unconcerned expression on.

She took a look around when Bucky stood up to look in the kitchen. It was a cozy place and she wasn’t too needy but she couldn’t help but wonder about where she was going to sleep.

There didn’t seem to be enough furniture in here.

“Try not to touch it and you should be fine in the morning,” Bucky instructed after applying the burns cream to the sensitive area of skin.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered before absentmindedly pecking Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky’s eyes widened at her guts. He certainly didn’t see that coming. It was her first night here how was she so bold!

His breath stuttered out of his lungs but he quickly recomposed himself.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he gave her a dark stare.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“N-No.” She quickly shook her head.

“Did I give you permission to do that?”

“No.” She shook her head again, sort of knowing where this was going. She was going to get punished.

“Then why’d you do it?” Bucky sneered through his teeth.

“To th-thank Mr. Barnes.” He made her so nervous she could barely hear herself answer him.

Bucky hated her. She had no sense of boundaries. He hated the way she cried all the time. He hated the way she referred to him in third person.

He hated her.

“You already said that, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Don’t do it again.” Was all Bucky said and she was relieved.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky scoffed and stood up to put the cream back where he found it.

Turned out, Bucky had no bed. He slept on the floor and he didn’t need one.

“But where do I sleep, Mr. Barnes?” She asked in a small voice.

“Anywhere that is not next to me,” Bucky replied, not even sparing her a glance.

“Can I sleep here?” she asked, patting the couch.

“Suit yourself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She gave a shy smile.

“I didn’t make the damn couch. Just go to sleep.”

“Bad word again,” she whispered.

“What was that?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” She slammed a hand on her mouth.

“Repeat what you just said if you know what’s good for you.” Bucky glared.

“I- Mr. Barnes said a bad word,” she whispered shakily.

“Yeah, well, it’s my house! I’ll talk however I want!” Bucky raised his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She nodded, not even thinking about arguing that he shouldn’t curse in front of a little.

“Go to sleep.”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly plopped on the couch, covering herself with a blanket, and burying her face in a cushion.

Bucky almost chuckled; almost thought it was cute but he shook the smile off his face quickly and sighed, taking his shirt off and getting himself on the hard floor, easily falling asleep.

He always falls asleep so fast because nightmares usually wake him up few hours after; he be waiting for bed time all day.

She peeked from under the blanket when she heard Bucky snore, carefully tiptoeing to her bag to get her stuffie. She took one look at shirtless Bucky, her cheeks heating up, before sliding back under the covers on the couch.

Her Daddy that didn’t like to be called Daddy was beautiful.

It has started again. He’s chasing a person, he corners them to where they could not run anymore, his left hand wraps around their throat, they struggle and beg and then snap. He kills them.

Bucky startled awake, having a hard time taking his breath only to find her on the floor next to him.

Her eyes were full of worry and maybe even sympathy as she clutched a stuffed animal. Bucky didn’t like it.

“It’s okay, Daddy- Mr. Barnes. ‘T was just a bad dream.” She whispered, dropping her stuffie to wrap her short arms around Bucky.

He wouldn’t admit it but it felt nice to be held. Something inside him wanted to succumb to the gentleness of her gesture. But Bucky shut that down at once.

“Get off,” Bucky huffed tiredly as the girl clung to him and rubbed his sweaty back.

“But-”

“Get. Off.” He repeated, grinding his teeth and she reluctantly slipped off his lap and went back to her spot on the floor.

She stared at him as he panted and frowned for a second before leaving the room.

Bucky scoffed, rubbing a hand down his hot face. She probably went to cry in the bathroom again; such a crybaby.

Except she didn’t.

She returned with a relatively cool glass of water, only half full. She didn't want to be bad and spill.

“I got you water, Mr. Barnes.” She carefully got on her knees and offered him the cup.

“Stop saying my name so much.” Bucky snatched the cup out of her hand, gulping down the water without showing an ounce of gratitude.

She pouted, crawling to her bag to get him tissues because she didn’t see any around.

“So you do know how to act around liquids after all.” Bucky taunted, still not over the fact that she spilled soup over his table before taking the tissues from her to wipe his forehead.

“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby, Mr. Barnes? It helps me after bad dreams.” She suggested, desperately hoping he would let her help.

“Not all of us act like kids to flee our nightmares.”

“Mr. Barnes.” Her eyes filled with tears and it was the last thing Bucky wanted to deal with, “I’m not acting.”

She was hurt but he didn’t care. He said what he said.

“Get back on the couch, I wanna go to sleep.” Bucky dismissed, pushing the empty glass against the wall.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered dejectedly, taking her friend and crawling back to the couch.

The same thing happened every night for another four nights. At this point she was really worried about the man she started singing lullabies anyway, not waiting for his permission.

“Hey, you!”

“Doll,” she corrected.

“Whatever! Shut up already. I told you I don’t need your stupid singing.” Bucky growled into his pillow.

He was lying. He hated admitting it but he was. Her voice was actually angelic. He never went back to sleep again after a nightmare but that changed when she ignored his wishes and started singing. Bucky could drift off again to her soft voice.

He could get more hours of nightmareless sleep because of her lullabies. But he was too stubborn to admit anything that came from her was working for him.

It must be a coincidence. He probably fell asleep again because he was exhausted from being mad at her all day.

“I know Mr. Barnes doesn’t need it. It’s for me.” She lied as well. She knew lying wasn’t good girl like but she was helping Mr. Barnes; it was for good reason.

“Mr. Barnes,” her small voice called to him but Bucky was ignoring her.

He was pretending he couldn’t hear her and continued staring at the TV because she talked too much for his liking.

“Mr. Barnes.” She ever so lightly touched Bucky’s arm.

“What!” he spit suddenly, making her jump.

“We- We need to go shopping. Mrs. Morrison will visit tomorrow.”

She knew the process and for some reason didn’t want to be taken away from Bucky.

If Mrs. Morrison came and saw the way the apartment was or the way Bucky treated Doll, she was definitely going to make her leave with her.

“What?!”

“It’s day five.” She reminded, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah, so?” Bucky’s body fully turned to face her.

“It’s visit day. We have to go shopping.”

“How do I know you’re not lying just to get me to buy you things?”

“I don’t lie, Mr. Barnes.” She assured him, looking hurt at even the suggestion.

“It’s in the papers,” she told him, referring to the contract he’s signed as well as the guide he was provided with her file before leaving the institution.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, but stood up to look at the papers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer in the kitchen a few days ago.

“Shit,” he muttered when he saw she wasn’t lying. He heard her whisper bad word but chose to ignore it.

There were scheduled visits listed with different time intervals between each visit for the next three months.

Bucky groaned, throwing the paper sheet back in the drawer and slamming it shut.

“Put your clothes on, we’re going fucking shopping.”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t even-” she ran to the bathroom to change before Bucky could get angrier.

What has Sam gotten him into?

“Why’s your hair so messy!” Bucky asked, shoving her out of his way to grab a jar of peanut butter and put in the cart.

“I don’t know how to do it on my own an’ Mr. Barnes kept telling me to hurry up.”

Her voice was so small and if Bucky wasn’t so infuriated by the situation he would’ve felt bad for how he spoke to her.

“You’d think you’d actually look decent enough after taking forever to get ready.” Bucky huffed.

She remained silent, looking down and closing in on herself.

“Do you eat this?” Bucky asked, waving a box of corn flakes in front of her.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky nodded, throwing the box in the cart.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop saying my name so much?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barn-” Bucky’s cold stare stopped the word on her tongue.

“Call me Bucky.”

He didn’t want her to call him Bucky. But if that Mrs. Morrison was visiting tomorrow she couldn’t know he made her speak to him formally.

“Bucky?”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Bucky.” She smiled shyly, feeling one step closer to the man.

Bucky didn’t know his life would turn upside down so fast.

He never cared about grocery shopping because he didn’t need that much stuff and he mostly ate at restaurants or diners or bought take out. He mainly just had beer filling his fridge.

But with her tied to him now he was buying all kinds of food: fresh vegetables and fruits, juice boxes, snack bars and way too many Oreos. Not to mention the toiletries he had to pay for because aside from her tooth and hair brushes, she came with nothing.

“Bucky, can we please get this?” she asked, pointing to a stuffed white wolf.

“No, you already have one at home. I see it every night.”

“Please, Bucky, please. Pretty please,” she begged, giving puppy eyes and pressing her palms together even.

“Okay, fine, shut up. God!” Bucky grumpily put the toy in the cart and got them to the nearest cashier before she could pick anything else.

She was so happy and was going to cherish her new stuffie more than ever.

Bucky was pacing back and forth in the living room. He needed to find a way to convince her not to tell Mrs. Morrison or whatever her name was how he treated her.

He didn’t want her to know she had any type of power over him because of the situation.

Bucky definitely wasn’t going to say please, but he also knew he couldn’t scare her into saying what he wanted.

“Bucky, please go to bed. Wolfie can’t sleep.” She whined, hugging her newest stuffie to her heart.

Bucky gave her yet another hard glare. She made him so angry that sometimes he forgot how to function. She was so spoiled and oblivious.

“I won’t say anything to Mrs. Morrison,” she whispered.

“You think I care what you have to say?! They could take you right now for all I care!” Bucky replied angrily.

“I know…” she mumbled, “I don’t want them to.”

Her words left Bucky without a reply. He was confused. She didn’t want to leave? Why not? Bucky hasn’t said one kind word to her since she’s been entrusted to him.

Was she some type of masochist?

“I wanna stay with Bucky. Sing him lullabies and eat noodles with him,” she said, her voice soft and heavy with sleep, before her eyes shut as she drifted off.

Her words put Bucky at ease for now and he got on the floor to finally try to get some sleep. He tried to ignore the way they affected him though.

“Bucky,” she called gently.

“Hmm.”

“I need to shower,” came her timid whisper.

“Do you see me using the bathroom?! Help yourself.” Bucky huffed, stirring the sugar in his mug.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” he snapped, throwing the spoon in the sink.

“I need Bucky’s help.” Her face was on fire with embarrassment of having to say this out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing his mug aside before grabbing her arm and pushing her to the bathroom.

She whimpered as they stood before the glass door of the shower.

“This, because you’re not stupid you’re just age regressed, opens the hot water.” Bucky pointed to the tap handle on the right. “This opens the cold water. And this-”

“Bucky, that’s not what I need help with.” She shook her head, biting down on her lip.

“What do you want from me then?!” Bucky had no patience and her bashfulness wasn’t helping.

She raised her arms up before whispering, “I need Bucky to gimme a shower.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t start now! You don’t know how to shower?!”

She shook her head, pouting as her eyes got teary again, “not when little.”

“This is bullshit. I didn’t even wanna do this. Damn you, Sam Wilson!” Bucky said, walking out of the bathroom angrily as she trailed behind him like the lost puppy she was.

“Bad word.”

“Stop!” Bucky boomed and she put her hands behind her back timidly.

“Please, Bucky,” she begged, getting hold of his hand.

“No! On my dead body!”

“Stand straight or I swear I’m gonna leave you here and go!”

“Yes, Bucky,” she giggled, the water trickling down her spine tickling her.

“Now what?” he huffed, trying not to stare at her naked chest.

“Now, this.” She held up the bottle of conditioner for him and Bucky sighed before taking it and squeezing some on his hand.

He was about to smooth it down her scalp when she moved away.

“No, no! This goes on the ends or else it gives you dandruff,” She said and Bucky would’ve facepalmed so hard if it wasn’t for the slippery matter covering his palms.

This was going to be long.

She was fast asleep on Bucky’s couch after her shower, so peaceful and without a care in the world.

Bucky envied her as he got in place on the floor. He really wished he had enough flexibility in him to accept help and care from someone.

But no, he didn't need her. He didn't need any of this. He just had to go through tomorrow and the rest will figure itself out.

Yeah, yeah just tomorrow for now, Bucky thought as he drifted off.

part II

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