#also the title is so cheesy please ignore it

[fettuccin-e]

The Devil In Me

Kinktober Day 8: Rough Sex

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it irl guys dont be dumb), rough sex, degradation, slight sadism/masochism, black suit supremacy, matt is kind of violent but thats rlly just who he is yknow (w/c: 1.6K)

A/N: so like even though most of my shit has rough sex this is like a little rougher than i usually write. but theres fluff at the end because i literally cannot help myself lol (I have been using prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)

When Matt comes home to you bloodied and battered, fists curled at his sides and jaw clenched, you aren’t afraid. He’s dangerous right now, a man at the end of a wire, teetering dangerously over the edge of insanity.

He’s been pushed and pushed, the devil within him restless and feral. You know that he’s still the man you love; he’s the same Matty that cooks your favorite foods and listens to audiobooks with you and takes you for walks through Central Park.

You love Matt, and the devil that lives within him. To love him is to accept them both, and you do, without hesitation.

So when he stalks toward you, every inch of him dangerous and volatile, you don’t flinch away. You smooth your hands over his scratchy cheeks, thumbing gently over his lips. Soothing an animal. He brings his hands up to grab your wrists, holding them still against his face. He’s practically vibrating with unshed energy, aching to be set free.

“Need you, please,” he rasps, his voice quiet and rough. It’s more of a question than anything else, you know it is.  He always asks, never wants to hurt you. You know that if you were to say no, he’d simply kiss your forehead. He’d tell you he loves you, like he always does, and would go out again. Distancing you from the devil. You’ve never considered saying no, after years of being beside him. These nights are for you as much as they’re for him. They’re brutal, sometimes painful, but you crave them, crave him.

“Yes,” you whisper back to him, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. He growls, and his hands move to grip your hips, hard enough to bruise. They likely will, and later, Matt will kiss them, murmuring little apologies. You’ll giggle at him, telling him that he shouldn’t apologize. You’ll press on them while staring at the mirror, relishing in the soft ache.

Matt kisses you hard, all teeth and spit and tongue, before turning you until your back presses flush against his chest. You let your head lay back against his shoulder as one of his hands snakes down your stomach and under your panties. He cups your pussy without any finesse, his hands rough and calloused against you. 

“So fucking wet,” he grunts, and you whine as his hands part your cunt to run a thick finger over your clit. Your hips jerk forward, chasing his touch, but Matt uses his other hands to shove your hips back against him again. You can feel the thickness of his cock through his clothes, pressing against your ass. Against your better judgment, you grind back against him. Testing, teasing. Something you should never do with a caged animal.

“Fucking-” he chokes out, sounding almost angry. “Bend over for me. Now.” You nearly trip over your own feet in your rush to get to the couch. You can feel how soaked you are, your pussy slick and ruining your panties. You slide them off, but as you reach to take off your sleeping shirt, an old Fogwell’s tee from Matt’s dresser, the devil is already upon you. 

“I said,” he murmurs, “bend over.” He grips your shoulders, shoving them over the back of the couch until you brace yourself with your hands on the cushions. The edge of the couch digs into your lower stomach, but you can barely feel it, your anticipation clouding your senses. Matt smooths a rough hand over your ass, you barely have a moment to breathe before he’s landing a rough smack against you. Pain radiates through you, and you can feel yourself leaking for him. You choke out a soft moan at the impact, and shake minutely as Matt chuckles darkly.

“Fucking slut. You like getting hit? Fuck, you’re soaked, you love it, baby. I know you do. I can fucking smell it.” You whine as Matt leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear. “You can’t run from me, sweetheart,” he whispers, and you swear that you could pass out from the mixture of anticipation and pure lust running through your veins. 

You can hear the rustle of fabric behind you; the undoing of a belt, the sound of a zipper. Your hips twitch minutely when you feel Matt’s hard cock press against you, sliding against your sensitive pussy. The thick head notches against your entrance, and suddenly, Matt is pushing in, in, strong and unyielding. The stretch borders on painful without any prep; Matt is big on a normal day, but he feels even bigger tonight, bullying into your clenching cunt without remorse.

“So fucking tight, shit,” he mutters behind you, and you can only whine in response. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, not like he usually does. He uses you, taking and taking without remorse, desperate for it. He pulls out roughly before plunging back in, making you feel every thick inch of him. He works himself in and out of your sopping pussy, clothed hips slapping against your bare skin, chafing it raw and red and aching. Your hips jerk with every unrelenting thrust, barely able to take it as Matt takes you like a fucking toy.

“Yeah, fucking take it. You little slut, my fucking slut. I own you, I own this fucking pussy, you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, God Matt, fuck, I’m yours. I’m yours, baby,” you slur out. You feel hazy, your vision blurry as Matt fucks you. He can barely ever miss the most sensitive part of your pussy in this position. His cockhead jams into your sweet spot again and again, unrelenting and nearly painful with how much pleasure rockets up your spine. One of his hands presses against the small of your back while the other reaches up to wrap his arm around your neck. He pulls you up, your hands leaving the couch cushions. You have no other choice but to grip onto the forearm pressing into your neck as Matt forces you to arch into the air. 

Matt’s thrusts get deeper, pulling out less and less, until he's simply humping into your cunt like an animal. Choked out whines of “Matt, yes, yes, fuck, oh my God, Matt,” escape unbidden from your throat.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I’m your God right now. I’m the only one who can fuck this pussy, I’m the only one that knows how much of a whore you are.” Matt’s voice is raspy, overwhelmed and absolutely primal. You nearly scream as the hand Matt has on your stomach snakes down to toy with your throbbing clit. “I’m the only one,” he mutters, “who can make you cum. Right?”

“Yes, Matt, yes, please, please make me cum.”

“Fucking cum, slut. Cum for your God.”

You really do scream as Matt pinches your clit, rough and painful, and suddenly, you’re clenching hard around his cock, your nails digging harshly into his forearm. Matt fucks relentlessly into your pussy as you ride out your orgasm, his thick cock bullying you open, breaking you apart. Your orgasm wanes, but Matt just keeps driving himself in. You’re sensitive, so sensitive; your pussy feels used and achy, but Matt just keeps going. Little tears are starting to leak down your cheeks, and fuck, Matt isn’t stopping. He isn’t stopping, isn’t slowing down.

“Matt, I’m so- I’m so sensitive, baby, you gotta-” you slur, but Matt cuts you off with a swift smack to your over-sensitive clit, your body trembling with the pleasure-pain of it all.

“I don’t have to do anything, you got that? You said I could take you, and I fucking will.” His cock keeps jamming into your pussy, and you can feel your wetness sliding down your shaking thighs. They try to clench themselves closed subconsciously, trying to run from Matt’s onslaught, but it’s a fruitless battle.

You can feel another orgasm building in your stomach, the knot within you clenching tighter and tighter. Matt chuckles from behind you, mocking you as your cheeks burn and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Can feel this fucking pussy clenching again. You really gonna cum again, sweetheart? Even when you’re trying to run, you’re still a fucking whore. I always give this pretty pussy exactly what she needs, right sweetheart? God, she’s sucking me in, like you don’t want me to leave, baby.” Matt’s fingers are still pressed against your achy clit, his thrusts shifting his fingers maddeningly up and down. You’re going to cum, you’re going to fucking cum.

“Give it to me, gorgeous,” Matt growls, and he lifts his hand away from your clit just to slap it back down again, sending stinging, glorious lightning straight up your spine.

You have the briefest thought about the unlikelihood of your survival before you’re screaming all over again, your pussy clenching like a vice. It’s nearly painful, your orgasm. You feel like you’ve been ripped apart, destroyed by Matt’s touch. 

Your chest is heaving, shaking, as Matt’s hips begin to stutter in their thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck this pussy’s so fucking good. So fucking tight, ah-” Matt groans, loud and unabashed as he presses himself as deep as he can into your cunt, filling you with his thick cum. You’re weightless, held steady only by Matt and his strong arms. He slips out of you, and you whimper softly at the feeling of his cum running down your slick, ruined pussy.

You barely feel it when Matt turns you in his arms, lifting you into the air to carry you into your shared bedroom. The silk sheets are comforting and cool on your overheated body as Matt lays you gently onto them. He lays next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You can hear him vaguely, like you're underwater, cooing about how you are are, how perfect. You breathe against his warm, strong chest, relishing in the closeness.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Matt murmurs into the quiet of the room, and you press a kiss to his skin.

“Mhm,” you mumble. “Love my Matty, love my Devil too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, nuzzling into his chest.

“Well,” Matt whispers, “If I’m your devil, you’re my angel, sweet girl.”

“Hm.” You say. You can already feel yourself drifting off, safe and warm and loved. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I know you are.”

#hooh boy little bit of my pain kink came out with this one #also the title is so cheesy please ignore it #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil x female reader

[nametakensff]

Mistletoe Mishap (S/teddie)

Ignore the cheesy title and enjoy 4.4k of mutual fetish AU S/teddie smut lol

S/teve and E/ddie are decorating the H/arrington household in preparation for a Christmas party when E/ddie has a ~mysterious~ allergy attack

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship (four years deep), both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, allergy sneezing, handjobs, spray, a little tiny mention of mess, descriptions of a pretty intense allergic reaction, sneezing on someone's face, sneezing on someone's neck, teasing, nose rubbing

CW: graphic descriptions of cum, E/ddie is a particularly demanding tease in this one

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“You know, I don’t understand why they don’t sell the place. Or just give it to you.” Eddie stated, pushing the front door to the Harrington residence closed behind him. “It’s not like they’re ever here. Seems like a waste of prime real estate.”

Steve shrugged, setting the last of the cardboard boxes they’d brought with them on the floor and crouching down over it.

“I’ve long given up on trying to understand my parents, Eds. Doesn’t matter, right? Comes in handy at times like this.”

He ripped the tape off the box and opened it wide, smiling as Eddie’s curls brushed the side of his face, the older man leaning precariously over his shoulder.

“You didn’t need to buy so many new decorations, hon. It’s just the kids. They don’t care.”

“Hmm.” Steve ran his hand over the assortment of tinsel, baubles and other Christmassy items, pleased to see they were completely intact even after he and Eddie had dropped this box in the parking lot earlier.

“Maybe they don’t care, but I do. It’s their last Christmas in high school, Munson. I want it to be nice for them. It might even be the last Christmas all of them spend together. They’ll go to college – they’re smart kids – and they might not even come back for the holidays.”

Even as he said it, Steve’s heart gave an unpleasant little flutter of what he supposed was preemptive grief. After everything they’d been through in this insane town – all the life and death situations they’d managed to pull through - these kids meant the world to him. They were eighteen years old – well, some of them – and he could hardly believe how much they’d grown before his eyes. He had been content living with Eddie in their small apartment and going about their everyday life in Hawkins, but change was in the air. Not only were the kids about 6 or so months away from graduation, he and Eddie had been discussing their own potential move. It should be exciting, and for the most part it was, but he was also a little terrified.

He felt Eddie’s hand squeezing his shoulder gently, turned his head to look up into his boyfriend’s face. He knew that look well, one of total fondness and adoration, and found himself smiling back up at him.

“Okay, Stevie. Let’s make it extra pretty for ‘em, huh?” He straightened up and made his way round Steve to open another box. “All I meant was they’ll be happy no matter what you do. The fuckers love you, man.”

Steve smiled again, feeling a little too sensitive and knowing if he said anything at all his voice would be thick with emotion. He nodded and took a second for the lump in his throat to recede before starting up into a series of instructions for their decoration game plan.

~~~~~~

“Okay.” Steve stood with his hands on his hips, feeling exhilarated as he glanced round at their handiwork. Despite how long it had taken them - mostly because of Eddie and his absolute inability to focus on the task at hand without either teasing Steve, fighting Steve or holding various decorations in front of his crotch and pretending they were his penis - it had turned out just great. In Steve’s opinion, it had been worth breaking the bank a little for the pomp and circumstance of it all.

“Looks great, baby.” He was grinning, the satisfaction of a job well done leaving him proud and happy.

“Fucking finally.” Eddie grumbled from his position on the hallway carpet, sprawled out on his back like a recalcitrant starfish.

Steve smirked at him before climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, planting his hands at the side of the older man’s head, careful to avoid the trailing brown curls that spread haphazardly around them.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Eddie deadpanned, but Steve felt him reach up to grip his waist gently.

“I am.” Steve admitted before pressing several small kisses over Eddie’s cheeks, eyebrows, nose. He was delighted to hear his boyfriend giggle sweetly in response. It was so fucking cute that Steve had to kiss him immediately, and Eddie, a sucker for him as always, elevated the kiss from soft and tender to deep and nasty in mere seconds.

After several more minutes of moaning and groping on the hallway floor, Steve figured they may as well be celebrating their successful decoration efforts in the comfort of an actual bed. He pulled back from the kiss, laughing as Eddie followed him as far as he could from his prone position before flopping back down.

“You better tell me the only reason you’re stopping is to haul my ass up to your bedroom, pretty boy.” Breathless and giddy, he massaged Steve’s ass with his wandering hands.

“Read my mind, baby. Let’s go.” Steve stood and pulled Eddie up alongside him with a strong arm. The metalhead flounced past him, already halfway up the stairs when Steve noticed one final box, unopened and forgotten towards the end of the hall. They must have missed that one in the maelstrom of hanging and pinning and arranging that had followed.

“Eddie, wait.” Steve started, pacing towards the box.

“What, what now?” Eddie groaned, turning around on the steps to peer down at Steve. His erection continued to stubbornly strain against the fabric of his worn black jeans.

“We missed a box.” Steve said, picked it up when he found it to be somewhat lighter than the others, and held it up towards Eddie.

“Are you serious, Steve?? It’s been hours, we’ve already worked like Santa’s god damn elves on cocaine and the house looks like Christmas vomited all over it – just put the damn thing down and let me suck your cock already!”

Steve, frankly, found the whole diatribe incredibly amusing – the only thing more amusing than Eddie’s rant was the look of utter indignation on his face when Steve outright laughed at him.

“Ooh, you piss me off.” Eddie stomped his way down the stairs, strode up to his still-laughing boyfriend and yanked the box from his hands. “If we finish with this last little box, can we go upstairs and fuck each other’s brains out for the remainder of this fine December evening?”

“Sure.” Steve smirked, enjoying his boyfriend’s sexual frustration and trademark impatience immensely.

With that confirmed, Eddie redoubled his efforts, practically tearing at the box as he crouched haphazardly beside it. Ripping it open, he paused for a second, tilting his head like a curious puppy as he took in the contents.

“Leaves…?”

Steve’s brows furrowed; he leaned forward, following his boyfriend’s gaze downwards. Suddenly, it clicked.

“Mistletoe.” He snapped a forefinger and thumb together. “Sorry hon, I totally forgot. Won’t take us long to hang a couple of these up.”

“Huh. Do you really need this much of it for the children, though? Are we advocating for teen pregnancy in this household?” Eddie joked, dangling a sprig dramatically over the two of them. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Please. Being members of Hellfire is contraception enough.”

“Wow. Fuck you, I guess?”

Steve chuckled, snatched the sprig from Eddie and held it above them as the metalhead had just moments before. He slipped one strong arm around Eddie’s slim waist and pulled him closer, until their fronts were flush.

“Sorry, baby. Kiss and make up?”

Any faux offense on Eddie’s part was quickly diminished as the older man smiled and leaned into Steve’s embrace. All too quickly his hands were roaming over Steve’s body, squeezing his ass, dragging his nails down Steve’s back hard enough he could feel it through the cotton of his polo shirt. They both moaned into the kiss, all tongues and heavy breathing, and for a moment Steve lost himself in it.

It didn’t last long, however. Steve felt his boyfriend tense, standing rigid in his embrace. He barely had a second of recognition at the sharp inhale Eddie took in through his nose before the metalhead was pulling away just a moment too late, catching Steve’s jaw with the light aerosol of his first sneeze. The older man choked out a breathy apology before sucking in another inhale and proceeding to sneeze fittishly against the column of Steve’s throat, trembling and gripping the fabric of his shirt as though holding on for dear life.

“Hh-HH’ENGXT’Tchieww!! NDd’tshieww!! ‘Tshieww!! Ihkg’tchieww!! HAH!! DDZZSCH’Uuuu!! Ohh…”

Steve felt his entire body blooming with heat at the arousal that pulsed through him. He never tired of this, felt just as overwhelmed and ruined by every sneeze that graced his heated skin as he ever had. He held Eddie upright as he shuddered, stroking one broad hand down the expanse of his back as best he could whilst still clutching the mistletoe between thumb and forefinger. He kissed into Eddie’s curls and willed his hips not to buck against the thigh his boyfriend had slid between his own.

“God bless you, sweetheart.”

Eddie pulled back, sniffly and watery-eyed, offering Steve a sheepish, crooked smile as he shook a few stray hairs back from his face.

“Whew, sorry, Stevie. That came out of nowhere.” He snuffled a little louder, and Steve was transfixed at the wonderful flare of those oh-so expressive nostrils as he did so. Eddie swiped gently at the dampened skin of Steve’s throat with the cuff of one long sleeve. “Had a tickle.”

Steve moaned softly, smiled at the pleased grin that whimper of arousal pulled out of Eddie.

“You okay, Eds?” He asked, still stroking Eddie’s back softly.

“I’m just dandy, honey. Great, actually. That felt fucking incredible.” He punctuated the statement with another sniffle, even more liquid sounding than the others, and pressed a soft kiss against the side of Steve’s mouth.

Whether he was embellishing the experience for Steve’s benefit or whether those sneezes really had gotten him worked up – either way, Steve could feel the older man’s erection, harder than before and digging into his hip. He groaned, gripping Eddie’s shoulder with one hand and using the other to cup his ass, forcing their hips together and grinding against Eddie’s thigh, inviting his boyfriend to do the same.  

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He muttered against Eddie’s plush lips before capturing them in another intense kiss.

It was much of the same for a bit – grinding and gasping and moaning and kissing, gripping each other with desperate, wandering hands. Steve replayed the sound of every tickly little sneeze Eddie had graced him with minutes earlier, the sensation of the spray as it arced across his neck. He hadn’t been exaggerating; he really did feel like he was going to die when they worked together like this, like the emotions and the sensations were simply too much for his body to handle and he would shatter into a million pieces. He loved every second of it.

Eddie tensed again, just as before, but this time Steve was ready for it. He groaned into his boyfriend’s mouth, rolled his hips against him, squeezed his ass for all he was worth. The metalhead pulled back with one final frantic breath sucked in through twitching, flaring nostrils, fingers scrabbling to find purchase on Steve’s back, and sneezed violently between them.

“H’ohh goddDDDISSSSHH’IEwww!! hHDT’TISShhuuu!! IGXShhh!! HIG’TCHIeww!! Hh-HH-!”

He seemed to pause for a moment, and Steve would have perhaps mistaken this for the end of his fit had he not the perfect view of his crumpled expression – eyes overflowing with irritated tears, nostrils flared to capacity, tongue pressing firmly against his bottom lip as his jaw hung open. He was a picturesque portrait of ticklish misery, and Steve wanted a better view. He released his grip on Eddie’s ass to instead replace that hand in a firm but gentle grip on the older man’s chin, tenderly tilting back his head from his slightly ducked position so that he was facing Steve directly. Eddie didn’t protest, allowed Steve to do as he would, seemingly more preoccupied with allowing the tickle to crest inside his aggravated nose. It looked like such a tease; the naked look of desperation on his face was driving Steve wild.

What was maybe a few seconds felt like an eternity as Steve wished he could freeze them in this painfully erotic moment forever – Eddie, held right on the precipice of a sneeze and Steve ready and waiting to receive it. One final, dramatic tick of his nostrils, however, and Eddie finally reached his peak, rocking forward against Steve as it overpowered him.

“AEGGKKk’KSHIEWWwww!! eEHDT’TCHIewww!! HEH’TCHIEWWWw!! ‘TSCHH’Iieww! Hh…”

Steve’s eyes closed reflexively with every sneeze that burst across his face, cock throbbing and pulsing in his jeans as he took in the rich vocal sound of them, the desperate, almost pained expression on his boyfriend’s face, the feeling of his trembling against him. Yeah, he was never, ever getting tired of this.

“Hholy shit…” Eddie muttered, sounding utterly drained. Steve didn’t blame him; the sneezes, whilst not as large as his own, had sounded incredibly intense. Eddie sagged weakly against him, the weight of his head heavy against Steve’s hand. The younger man released his chin from the grip and swiped a thumb under his boyfriend’s dripping nose, finally pinching a little string of mess away from his septum before wiping it subtly away on his own jean-clad thigh. With slightly less subtlety he raised the collar of his shirt to quickly wipe his face clean.

“Bless you, baby. My god.” Steve laughed breathily, elated and giddy and absolutely overflowing with adoration. “You doing okay? Those were some serious sneezes.”

“Yeah. God. They really didn’t fuck around, huh?” Eddie sniffled, releasing the death grip he was maintaining on the back of Steve’s shirt to lift a crooked finger to rub at his tickly nostrils, quickly switching to all but mashing his nose back and forth with his palm when the gentle rubbing did nothing to alleviate the itch. He used the knuckle of the same hand to scrub at his eyes, which Steve noticed were looking suddenly all too pink. He frowned a little, pulling Eddie’s hand away by the wrist, ignoring the gentle whine of protest.

“Itches.” Eddie muttered, blinking as another pair of tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I know. I think you’re having an allergic reaction, Munson. And a fast one, at that.”

“Yeah, I am. Shit.” He sniffled again, twitching his pink nostrils, and Steve had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand and not the fact that he could feel his heartbeat in his dick.

“Any idea what might have triggered it? You poor thing…” Steve murmured, hoping he sounded as empathetic as he was ragingly horny.

“Ugh. Maybe dust from the carpet? I was down there for a little while, I guess.”

Steve frowned.

“But you’re not normally this irritated that fast? Unless it’s, like, a lot of dust?”

Eddie shrugged, squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his nose frantically again, a series of wet clicking noises sounding out as he did so.

“I don’t know, man. Fuck, I’m so itchy,” He whined, using the heel of his palm to press up against a leaky eye, ignoring Steve’s attempts to swat it away.

Steve glanced around the room, looking for anything that might be the culprit. No flowers that weren’t fake, no cleaning products left out in the open; the house was maybe a little dusty, granted it had been unoccupied for months at this point, but his parents still paid for a maid to semi-regularly come and maintain it, so it wouldn’t be enough to make Eddie this allergic. At a loss, he turned his head back to his boyfriend and opened his mouth to offer some sympathetic encouragement or other before he froze in his tracks.

He was resting one hand on Eddie’s shoulder – the same hand that still clutched a sprig of fresh mistletoe.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever been around mistletoe before?”

“Sure? Kids used to hang that shit all over school around Christmas.”

“But that stuff was plastic, no?”

“Well, yeah, but…?”

“Eddie.”

“Mm?”

“I think you’re allergic to mistletoe. Real mistletoe.”

“…Oh. Ohhhh.” Recognition dawned on Eddie’s face, and Steve nodded back at him as they locked eyes.

“You only started to sneeze once we opened that box. I got it at the store when you were grabbing an extra box of fairy lights for me.”

“Well, shit.” Eddie giggled, even as mashed his nose against his palm again. Steve lowered the hand holding the sprig to his side.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, really meaning it and feeling horribly guilty for taking such enjoyment in what looked like a pretty intense allergic reaction.

“C’mon, Stevie, no sorries. We don’t even know it’s that stuff for sure – s’probably still just the dust. Delayed reaction, or something.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow at that. Telling himself it was merely a matter of necessary experimentation and not because his cock was drooling in his pants at the thought of a repeat performance, he lifted the sprig up and held it directly under his boyfriend’s nose. Despite so confidently reassuring Steve the mistletoe was of no concern, the metalhead jerked his head back slightly at the sudden proximity of the offending plant.

“Sorry, sorry – just, sniff this for me? I want to be sure.” Steve tried gently, handling his boyfriend as one might attempt to soothe a skittish horse.

Eddie, stubborn as ever, rolled his eyes.

“I’m telling you, Harrington, even if it made me sneeze a little, that’s hardly a big deal for yours truly. It’ll be the dust that’s gotten me like this.”

He sniffed obediently all the same. His reaction was almost instantaneous and explosive as could be, actually causing Steve to jump a little as he sneezed violently all over the sprig, Steve’s hand and even dousing his forearm in a sudden cloud of spray.

“EESHHHHhhh’uuu!!”

Steve dropped the sprig immediately, groaning as his cock jumped in his pants at the throaty sound of his boyfriend’s desperate release.

“Bless you, you stubborn bastard. Oh, my poor allergic baby.” He crooned, kissing at another stray tear that rolled down Eddie’s cheek and wrapping his arms around him in support as the metalhead built up to yet another fit. The older man’s chest jumped rhythmically against Steve’s own, and with shaking arms he wrapped himself around Steve in return, resting his chin over his shoulder and slotting his thigh even more securely between Steve’s, as if anchoring himself in position to allow for the sneezes to overpower him.

“Fuck, Mm’gonna-!”

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.”

Steve had barely finished speaking by the time Eddie launched into his fit, notably stronger than before after getting a direct noseful of the offending allergen. Steve held him close, keeping the pair of them upright as his boyfriend gasped and rocked and strained. He bit his lip, willing himself not to go off in his pants as each sneeze seemed to travel though the both of them.

“HeHH-TSSSCH-TSSSSCH-‘DTTSZ’SHieww!! hHH-!! ‘GTSCH’IEWW!! EhHDT’TSHHIEwww!! ENGXT’TCHuuu!! Hh, HH!! IIIESHHHH’IEWW!!! Hohh…”

Steve listened to Eddie snuffle as he hung limply in his embrace, stroking his back reassuringly and whispering sweet litanies of praise and blessings into his boyfriend’s ear.

“Bless you, honey. You did so good, really got that tickle out of your poor little nose.”

“Mmff…” Eddie responded, dragging his drippy, twitching nostrils over the junction where Steve’s neck met his shoulder and rubbing them into his skin. Steve shivered at the wet sensation, continuing to support his boyfriend’s weight whilst holding himself rigid, forcing himself not to rut his cock against Eddie’s thigh and orgasm when he should be offering comfort. He swallowed and breathed out a shaky little laugh.

“Thought I knew everything about you at this point, but I guess not.”

He felt Eddie kiss him softly through the fabric of his shirt.

“Doesn’t count if I didn’t know it either.” The metalhead muttered, sounding so incredibly wiped out Steve’s chest blossomed with affection. “Not exactly off brand for me, this shocking revelation.”

Steve chuckled softly, the sound quickly morphing into a strangled groan as Eddie suddenly muffled a string of poorly suppressed sneezes into his shoulder, shaking the both of them again.

“HhNGGXT’Tsziew!! MMP’TChhh!! Ehh’NGXT!! NGK’Tieww!!”

“Fuck, Eddie, bless you.” Steve squirmed in place, squeezing his thighs tight around Eddie’s.

Eddie sighed, an almost orgasmic exhalation of air that made Steve shudder again, before lifting his head and pulling back, allowing Steve get a thorough look at his face. The younger man’s heart (and cock) throbbed to see just how much those sneezes had overpowered his boyfriend. Eddie’s eyes were bloodshot and leaking an almost continuous stream of allergic tears; his nose was reddened and slightly swollen; his full lips pink and moist with the aftermath of the intense sneezing he’d been subjected to. But he was smiling, and Steve hadn’t been with him for going on four years now to not recognise the heated look of arousal plastered onto his face. As if to reinforce his deductions, Eddie ground his own cock, almost as hard as Steve’s, against the younger man’s thigh.

“Thank you, angel. God, that felt so good. Did you like it?” He murmured, leaning forward to rub his nose against Steve’s. The younger man could feel how damp those flaring nostrils were against his own, so warm and soft. He answered with a moan in lieu of anything even remotely intelligent. Eddie seemed happy either way.

“Bless me.” He rubbed his nose against Steve’s just a little harder. “My nose is so tickly.”

“Eddie-!” Steve moaned, feeling completely dumbstruck as his boyfriend nuzzled against him, voice low and seductive, each word elevating him closer and closer to orgasm. He wanted to throw Eddie on the ground and fuck him stupid, but he also didn’t want this wonderful teasing to stop.

Suddenly, he felt the distinct sensation of his zipper being pulled down, and gasped at the feeling of Eddie’s calloused fingers pulling his cock out of his underwear. It pulsed and drooled a new stream of pre-cum all over that warm, familiar grip.

“You want this, baby?” Eddie half-whispered against his lips.

“W-we should…go upstairs, fuckk…” Steve managed, even as his eyes rolled shut at the minute movement of Eddie gently rolling the foreskin back from his cock head. “I can…hold back…!”

“But I want you here, Stevie. And you? Holding back now that I’ve got my hand on your cock? That is a fucking lie.” Eddie grinned, offering a small closed-mouth laugh as Steve moaned against his lips again.

“Fine,” Steve gasped as Eddie’s hand, slick with the result of his own wetness, started to pull at him. “But I can’t get jizz on this carpet. Gonna have to cum all over you instead.”

It was Eddie’s turn to moan, and Steve’s eyes squeezed shut at the sound of it, so ragged and breathless he almost came on the spot. He looked down between them as his boyfriend used his free hand to bundle up the hem of his Motorhead shirt and hold it to the tip of his cock.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Harrington.” Eddie nipped at his lips. “All ready for you.”

Steve whimpered, fucking into Eddie’s grip as the stroking resumed, so good, so good, and then Eddie was sniffling into his ear and he was coming in waves, the pleasure spreading out from his pulsing cock right down to his toes, curling them in his sneakers. It was quick and dirty and felt fucking amazing – Eddie jerked him throughout as Steve gripped his shoulders to stay upright, moaning at last once his voice returned to him.

“God,” he sighed with a definitive jerk of his hips into the makeshift cover Eddie held patiently against his spitting cock. He watched as his boyfriend pulled back, the two of them taking in the impressive deluge of cum that stained the black fabric before Eddie used a clean section of shirt to lovingly wipe his cock head clean, giving it a gentle squeeze as he went.

“Feeling better, big boy?” Eddie kissed his cheek, gently moving Steve’s hands off his shoulders once it seemed he could stand on his own. He used his newfound freedom to pull the ruined shirt over his head, careful not to get any mess on himself. He scrubbed a cum-free section over his dripping face for a moment before balling it up and dropping it gently on the floor with a dorky, quiet ‘Sorry, Lemmy.’

“Yeah. Fuckkkk.” Steve breathed out, pulling Eddie into him in a crushing hug, breathing in the smell of his shampoo and running his hands up the bare skin of his back. Eddie patted the small of his back softly in return.

“Love the way you cum. So sexy.” He sighed next to Steve’s ear. Steve could still feel Eddie’s own erection, harder than ever, pressing into his hip. He danced his fingers up Eddie’s spine, humming in satisfaction as he felt his boyfriend shiver and break out in a trail of sensitive goosebumps at the touch.

“Let’s go upstairs now.” He pulled back and reached for Eddie’s hand, feeling his boyfriend grip him back immediately. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you scream.”

“You know that’s all I ever want to hear.” Eddie flashed him a crooked smile, going easily as Steve started to pull him upstairs. Steve felt him hesitate, however, after just a few steps.

“What about the mistletoe, Stevie? Don’t you want to hang it up?”

Steve shook his head, all but yanked his giggling boyfriend a step higher.

“Can’t put that shit up now, and you know it. Cheeky bastard.”

“One second.” Eddie shook his hand free of Steve’s and ran down the stairs towards the box of mistletoe, rummaging for a second with his head angled as far away from the box as possible before extracting a sprig and holding it out in the air beside him.

“Eddie-“ Steve started as his boyfriend bolted up the stairs towards him, keeping the mistletoe at arm’s length.

“C’mon, Stevie, it’s just a little one. We can leave it next to the bed, I promise I’ll be fine.”

Steve must have looked visibly worried, because Eddie pouted up at him and tilted his head coquettishly.

“Where’s your Christmas cheer?” He simpered.

Steve couldn’t deny the prospect was incredibly tempting. One glance at Eddie’s huge doe eyes as they pleaded mischievously with him was all he needed for any further protests to die in his throat.

“Fine. But you’re taking an antihistamine first, you demon.”

Eddie smirked at him, all lidded eyes and long eyelashes.

“Yes, sir!”

+++++

((Just a few notes - I'm pretty sure mistletoe allergies aren't a thing but I don't care because it's hot lol.

Also for anyone who is even a little invested in this AU, I hope it shows that Steve is more comfortable discussing fetish related things this far into their relationship compared to earlier on when he would stutter over everything!))

#s/tranger t/hings #nametakenfic #sneeze fic #snz fucker #snz kink #sneeze kink #snz fet #sneeze fucker #snzblr

[glam-pir]

- introduction to writeblr -

p e r s o n a l i n f o

hi !! i'm em, i'm 18, almost 19, and i use she/they pronouns. writing's always been part of my life, i've just never actually believed i could do it. so, here i am, yada yada yada more cheesy shit. anyways, i'm in college so my activity levels are all over the place, i'm hoping having a blog to even myself out and make myself stay consistent will actually work. i love all things dark, gloomy, scary, and puzzle-ey, which goes without saying that my hobbies follow the same tragectory. i've been playing piano since i was four years old and i love writing music, solving puzzles, writing and reading (goes without saying frankly).

a b o u t m y w r i t i n g

let’s get into it, shall we? i really like a blether, and by that i mean i’m indecisive beyond words. my most common genres in the overarching sense is urban fantasy combined with cosmic horror, and high fantasy. i love worldbuilding don’t come for me i’m sensitive.

but in terms of smaller little motifs and themes, i love delving into folklore (slavic and north african, gotta stick to my roots), low fantasy and surrealism, political intrigue, dark romanticism, gothic horror, monster girls, lesbians, a good ole butch/femme dynamic, dead people, ghosts, generational stories, and of course, anything you could listen to depeche mode while reading.

w i p i n f o

jesus it’s uh, um, it’s a mess in here, please ignore the state of my mind rn, all titles are subject to change, for now i'll be titling them by vibe and vibe alone, these will probably be their tags for the forseeable future, also they're all gay

no guts, all gory

a story of suspicious internships, monsterous girls, the desire for knowledge, dead people, things man was not mean to see, and lunch dates with your coworkers. [ low fantasy / surrealism / cosmic horror ]

baba yaga's moving castle

a story of matriarchies, political intrigue, slavic folklore. [ high fantasy / multiple povs ]

gas station prophecies

a story of gas station prophets, things in the fog, shadows in the woods, spooky towns and liminal spaces, odd summer vacations, and some very important realizations. [ low fantasy / surrealism / gothic horror / coming of age ]

saints of nothing at all

a story of secret societies that are worse than they seem, culty schools, ✨cunty✨outfits, mean girls, meaner lesbians, himbos, ballroom dancing, and just a little bit of a roll in the uncanny valley. [ surrealism / hauntings / gothic horror / academia ]

#writeblr #writing #creative writing #writer #my writing #original writing #fiction #writeblr things #writeblr intro #writeblr introduction #writeblr community #fantasy #surrealism #cosmic horror #gothic horror #low fantasy #high fantasy

[brick-a-doodle-do]

Please just give me anything from your tiny workers au!! Literally anything and I will absolutely cherish it :D

*ahem*

would you like the first chapter? would you cherish that?

(also fuck scheduling, have it now. >:D its not proofread tho fyi)

tiny workers (i)

words: 4069

cw: vague description of depression, swearing

—–—

Knocking wakes him up. Loud and repetitive knocking. 

Wilbur blinks, trying to adjust to the golden sun that filters through his blinds, even as closed as they are. 

The knocking still hasn’t stopped. His nerves flare up at the continuous noise and he sits up, blinking a few more times to adjust to being awake before he finds his way out of bed. The hardwood under his floor has never felt more neutral, which makes him unusually aware of the surrounding air that feels so invisible that it’s suffocating.

Knocking.

He tries to ignore it and leaves his room, traces the length of the hallway and continues the beeline to the door, where he can faintly hear  a muffled conversation from behind.

Wilbur stops, standing at the front door. Through the agitating knocking sound, he holds his head in his hands for a moment before swiping his hands through his bed-ruined hair.

“Wil, mate!” Phil says, loud and clear through the door. Wilbur groans.

Quietly, he listens as Phil murmurs something to Techno, who in return whispers an ingenuine apology.

Right there, he considers walking away. They can’t knock forever.

But, his conscience figures he owes it to his family to at least make an effort. And so, taking the cool doorknob in his hand, he opens the door and puts on a fake, strained smile. “Yes?” 

“Good mornin’,” Techno butts in before Phil can. Wilbur raises his eyebrows at him tiredly.

“D’ya mind if we come in, Wil? We have something for you,” Phil explains, and Wilbur tries to find the courage to decline. And despite how much he told himself to promptly shut the door on his father and brother’s face, he found himself instead nodding along. 

“Yeah, go for it,” Wilbur agrees and steps aside.

Phil leads, brushing past him, where Techno lingers in the doorway for a moment. “I’ll admit, he’s stretchin’ this a little bit,” Techno warns, and before Wilbur can question what he meant, his vision is obscured as Techno walks past him. 

He shuts the door and settles in on an armchair, which sits across from the couch Phil and Techno have found a seat on.

“Are you here for what I think you’re here for?” Wilbur asks, an explanation hung between them.

“It depends on what you’re thinking, Wil,” Phil hums, laughing to try and break the tension. It doesn’t work, and in the end it’s only him finding amusement. His father sighs. “We don’t care about you not replying to us, or making an effort to be social, we just care about you actually getting outside,” Phil starts, glancing at Techno, whose  expression is nothing but curious at Phil’s particular wording, “so, see, we found something.” 

He can’t say he enjoys the sound of that, and especially not as Phil pulls his phone out and taps at his screen, only to hand it to Wilbur. A long article catches his vision as he’s handed the phone. “Here ya’ go,” his fathers says, trying his best to  smile.

Wilbur stares, face wooden as his finger slowly scrolls down his father’s phone.

Impending outlines of familiar figures and silenced commotion of bated breath keeps his flat quiet.

His eyes are hung heavy as he scrolls, skimming impatiently through the articles’ pre-advertisements. Something unintelligible of promised family fun and worthy relaxation flies past his eyes until he finally reaches it, an overdue title with a cheesy caption.

COLONY PARKS

“Tiny adventures await! Explore small worlds of wonder with tiny people, big fun!”

Wilbur squints at the screen, his doomful eyes blending in with his uncertain frown. “An amusement park? Are you fucking— fucking come again?” he scoffs. He had to ask; lingering in the back of his mind is hope that he isn’t sent to this hellhole.

His father lets out a sad sigh. “It’s for a few hours, Wil, that’s nothing compared to the things we could do.”

Handing the phone back, he shakes his head. “I think anything could be better than this. I thought your goal was to get me out of the house to have a good time. This is just—fucking childish!”

“I think one could pretty easily argue that you’re being childish right now,” Techno remarks. Phil elbows him, but Wilbur see’s the way he struggles to keep a smile down. “Heh? You know I’m right, but excuse me for putting a mark on your ‘good-parent’ facade.”

Phil stares at Techno, struggling down a smile. Wilbur shrinks into himself.

Eventually, Phil sighs. “He’s right,” Phil starts, and he watches as Techno smiles, “Wil, you gotta give it a try. One shot. If you don’t like it you know we won’t force you into it and we’ll find something better for you,” he finishes, and Wilbur solemnly nods. He knows better than to pick a fight with his father or Techno.

“Fine,” he murmurs. 

–

When a day had passed after the conversation, Wilbur couldn’t say the passing time with the absence of people had let him think, because he honestly had to answer and say he had continued with his musty routine. The only thing different was he was wallowing with slight agitation with his father. 

The sudden announcement had been a spring that he wasn’t exactly ready to release. He’d much prefer to ease into a “recovery”, but he can’t get everything he wants.

And now, with his phone vibrating loudly under his hand, he found his sore eyes opening, unadjusted to the sunlight that strung into his room, the sun high in the sky. He’d nearly drifted off again when his phone disturbed him. 

He pulled himself up, propping his upper body up with his arm and unlocking his phone. Rushing notifications from Techno continuously layered until he had the decency to open them. 

A long string of “urgent” messages. 

From what he could gather with his five-hours-of-sleep brain, Techno was parked outside. 

Begrudgingly, he tapped at Techno’s contact until the phone was ringing. Techno picked up immediately.

“You wakin’ up at twelve now?” Techno asks. 

Wilbur sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, what little energy he has murmuring out a quiet response. “Techno what are you doing downstairs?”

“I recall Phil ‘n you coming to an agreement with the theme park.”

Wilbur groans. “Now? Today? He never told me that,” Wilbur complains. Groggily, he pulls himself up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The air is uncomfortably warm, but somehow the feeling of the heavy blanket over him still felt lovely.

“I’m only waitin’ ten more minutes before I go up ‘n get you myself, just so you know, Will-I-am,” Techno says.

“I’ll be down.”

And he was, with a fresh set of clothes and tamed hair, more than anything he’d been able to put together the past few days. He tried not to pay attention to how gross he felt, considering the greasy streaks of hair he felt just by trying to make it look presentable. 

And his laundry was growing scarce, it was only a matter of time before he’d start rewearing things from his pile of filth in the corner.

Never mind that, though, he had one free day of being outdoors where everything was covered for him. But the thought of it still made him feel unnerved. Alone in an unfamiliar place that was probably packed with people. He’d heard of the place, probably one too many times over the years.

It was unconventional for Phil to think he would come out of his shell there of all places.

But, he did, and Techno was there, already walking around his car to seemingly come and find him. “That took you so long,” Techno murmured, turning back around at the sight of Wilbur. The brunet hummed in response, trying to sound amused. He got in the car, feeling out of place in such a tidy and unusually vibrant place. But he’d been in Techno’s car year after year, so he couldn’t say it didn’t feel familiar. 

Techno drove off quickly without a word, and Wilbur buckled his seatbelt in and slumped against the window. “How far is it?” he asks on a whim.

“Nothin’ convenient,” Techno mutters, glancing at the GPS on his phone. “But it can’t be longer than two hours,” he quickly reassures.

Wilbur groans. “He wants me to be happy but can’t pick a convenient place for me to be happy at.”

“At least he’s trying,” Techno quickly butts in. “Not a lot of parents do that, bad parents ‘n all. That’s why there’s a lot of orphans.”

“I don’t think that’s what orphan means, Techno,” Wilbur muses.

“Don’t avoid the topic. And orphan can mean what I want it to mean ‘cause I’m the one killin’ them.”

“I’m not fuc—that’s still not how it works!” Wilbur argues, smiling ever-so-slightly. 

It was like that the rest of the ride, brotherly banter between them while Techno still tried to drill into his head that Phil meant good. And Wilbur considered it, which was pointless because he knows Techno is right.

He watched as the time on the GPS went down slowly, until eventually it announced that they’d arrived. Which wasn’t entirely true, because even as Techno made a right-hand turn, down onto the path with a road sign announcing the park in big black letters: “COLONY PARKS”. A thick arrow pointed right, down the road that they were currently pulling onto.

 In the distance, Wilbur spotted an overhead bridge with a big overhanging sign that decorates the entire side of said bridge. A dull brown background, the name of the park in what he recognizes as oversized shoelaces, suitably on-brand. 

There’s strands of large, fake grass that obscures some of the words, and other giant versions of everyday things: buttons, bugs, probably other things had he been paying attention. It was interesting how all-out they went, but it didn’t excuse the fact that he wanted no part in this.

Fucking Phil and his need for him to be fine.

From that point forward, the scenery had changed drastically—there were towering blades of glass that gave the intended shrunken effect (where, if he was being honest, it made his mood lighten a bit). Certain sculptures of oversized shoes or again, bugs and old trinkets of the “nearby humans” lay in the “fields of grass”. He could certainly see the appeal, speaking for the children he knows passing by this very place with a much more exasperated and fulfilled face, while his dull and unamused; trying to hide how eager he was to look at the detail in everything.

“Honestly, I can see why you don’t wanna go here,” Techno chimes in after a moment, himself looking around at the scenery. 

“Don’t say that unless you’re turning us around,” Wilbur deadpans. When Techno huffs, he shrinks deeper into the seat and tightens his arms around his torso.

(*)

“Woah—fucking shit!” Tubbo chants from afar, where Tommy can just barely hear him over the gust of air as a golf ball flies past him, narrowly missing his body. He thought he had that.

The human above him chuckles, and Tommy holds back a rant with a sour “I’ll fucking sue you”. 

“Yeah, yeah,” the human murmurs, walking past him with ease to the next hole.

Tommy stays put, looking back at Tubbo, who’s sitting in the crevice of one of the fake rocks. “I’ve lost my pep, Tubbo,” he starts, and Tubbo’s already giving him a knowing look, but Tommy continues, “I’ll steal you a free thing—just please cover for me, my lungs are dying and I think if this person fuckin’ taunts me one more time I’ll probably get fired.”

Tubbo hums and shuffles up from his spot on the ledge. “I got you, bossman. Cut yourself off, or whatever. Go take a break,” he agrees. 

Tommy’s offer slipped through Tubbo’s finger and he hurried off before he could remember. He bids a ‘thank you’ and speeds across the fake grass of the course, following along the left-hand side of the previous hole then hoisting over the low bricks that line the sides. 

As he lands in the dirt, Tommy slows his pace and basks in his unofficial break.

He approaches the small hut for mini-golf booking, where Karl was leant against the counter with his phone in front of him. Lucky bastard, getting to use a phone with such ease.

Briefly, the worker noticed the tiny and Tommy nodded at him solemnly, and Karl offered a small smile and returned to the device.

Tommy ignores his jealousy (and his impulsive desire to steal it) and carries on, ducking under the tiny-worker entrance and slumping his shoulders as a gust of air-conditioned room hits him instantly.. 

Quiet feedback from his earpiece-turned-radio breaks the quiet silence, and Karl looks down at him. Tommy in return pauses, looking up at him. 

There’s only a beat of passing silence before Karl chimes in with, “Hey, Tommy.”

“Hi Karl,” Tommy greets, wavering his previous path to cut across the floor; closer to the human. “You giving me a boost up? All the newcomers that are gonna have their mind fuckin’ blown when they come in here,” Tommy grins, “You know I just gotta see that.”

“Why should I help you?” Karl asks, and Tommy scowls at the question. “Will you put in a good word for me?”

“Oi! Come on Karl, don’t be a dick,” he yells up, scoffing.

Karl stares down at him, hand cupping his chin.

Fuck this. “Fine, dickhead. Who to, fuckin’ Big Q again?”

“Actually–yeah.”

Tommy makes a gagging noise, shaking his head. “You fucking romantic,” Tommy jokes—though he can’t say there wasn’t sincerity to it; he never saw the appeal of romance. But, the longer Karl stares at him with an expression even Tommy can quite literally not say no to, he shrugs. “I’ll try again, then, but I won’t accept assholery against me when he rejects you. Again.”

Karl nods, satisfied, then crouches down with his hand extended. With practised ease, Tommy steps on and adjusts his footing. 

The human stands, and Tommy watches greedily as a view of the opening-hour crowds start fumbling in. Amusingly enough, Tommy also has a view of the human he was up against earlier. 

He steps off of Karl’s hand and rushes across the counter. Karl returns to his phone, and Tommy takes a seat near the edge closest to the crowd.

There are the usual: families of three or four with giddy smiles as they ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at the decor as they try to ignore the inconvenient rush of people, and the couples that look too happy to be there. There’re grandparents with their kids, large groups of teenagers and large groups of adults, kids—everything. 

But, one person in particular stands out to Tommy. There’s no kid clung to his side or running off, not a partner at his shoulder. He doesn’t look particularly invested; his shoulders are shrunk in on himself and his lanky torso, and frankly Tommy can’t say anyone has stood out quite like that in such an unordinary way. 

Usually, the people who catch his attention are those with colourful clothes or boisterous voices and laughter. This guy is making himself small, and he looks quiet at best. It’s funny—someone so tall and dull couldn’t blend in with a familial crowd, but he attempted it anyway, and it was amusing to watch. Simple as that.

(*)

Kill him. Right here, right now, kill him. 

Phil’s interpretation of fun and relaxation is still puzzling to him, because as eager people run from every direction and pay no mind as they brush against his still form, it doesn’t feel relaxing. He can only imagine the park stretching out for miles, and he can’t say that trudging any deeper would make this jungle of people any more coherent.

So, he looks to his left and makes a beeline over to the least crowded place he can find.

He goes sideways against the crowd, keeping his eyes narrowed to try and keep his vision straight ahead. He stumbles as he catches himself before he trips over a stroller, and just manages to find his footing on the path leading up to the attraction. 

It’s a simplistic design, holding nothing special against the initial drive up, with towering flowers that cast a shadow over some areas, fake rocks that seem to fit in like pebbles against the flowers. 

Wilbur takes a habitual look around, noticing the layout of a golf course. 

Lucky find, he muses.

The path cuts short and opens to a wider area, where a wooden (yet somehow still posh-looking) stand is built. Behind the counter, a worker who couldn’t have been older than twenty five was scrolling idly through his phone. As Wilbur approaches awkwardly, he seems to catch the worker’s attention. He looks up, flashing a genuine smile as he sets his phone down.

“Hello,” Wilbur greets.

“Hey!” The worker greets back, and Wilbur tries to compose himself to talk. “Look, let me be honest with you, I’ve never been here before and I just—I think I need something to pass the time.”

Karl (if his nameplate had a say in it) nods along, looking fairly interested for any theme park worker. “Uh, do you want to try a few rounds on the course?” 

“Yeah, that might be a better start than sitting around,” Wilbur agrees. Out of the corner of his eye, something shifts, but he can’t pay attention to it for long before Karl’s talking to him again.

“Okay, and have you been introduced to the rent-a-tiny feature?”

“Uh—oh, they may have mentioned it. I can’t say I was listening,” Wilbur explains. Karl nods. 

“Oh. Well, newer members get it free,” Karl begins, ducking behind the counter, “but that is specifically for attractions. To take them around the park it would be extra,” Karl pops back up. “And there’s a new-member discount for that as well, usually for if it was paid online. But it’s totally optional!” Karl finishes, finally, and Wilbur takes it in.

“I—my dad set this up, I wouldn’t know what features he got. Again, I wasn’t exactly listening when they read it over.”

The conversation continued, back-and-forth for another five minutes until it was squared away that Phil had opted for the rent-a-tiny feature, which he hadn’t been thrilled to discover. But it was valuable money to Phil, and in one angle it was for a good cause. And so, again, his conscience won.

Karl had fitted him for the club and left him to choose a ball, while the worker set off to find a tiny. It was startling to know he was going to see one, purely because of his uncertainty that he would manage to handle such a small thing—person—whatever. It was unnerving.

And that’s why his heart ran nervously when Karl finally emerged, something wedged between his forefinger and thumb.

A borrower. A real fucking borrower. Wilbur tries to hide his suddenly piqued interest in the being, watching as calmly as possible as the two approached and the borrower was set down onto the counter. He looked irritated, but still put on a fake, flashy smile for customer-him. 

“Hello, you’ve interrupted my break time but I can take a break for you, I saw you over there,” the borrower points to the crowd to Wilbur’s left of them, “and you looked all sad as shit,” the borrower finishes. His voice was so loud, so clear, no stutter in sight and swearing proudly. It was hard not to seem impressed.

“Good luck with him, and have a good game!” 

Wilbur tucks the club under his arm and pockets the golf ball, then stares at the borrower. 

“Uh—” Wilbur’s voice ran dry. Karl had disappeared out of sight, and that left the two standing there. 

“Dy’a want me to walk then, dick?” 

“Ah—no, I can just pick you up?”

“You’re one of those people?” The borrower asks, raising an eyebrow at him in plain frustration. Wilbur feels guilty, but he does feel an underlying irritation of his own. “Look, set your hand down. I won’t bite you,” the borrower instructs. Wilbur obliges reluctantly, slowly approaching his hand to the counter. “And while I’m at it, since you’re a bitch and got me for a day, I’m Tommy. Big T.”

Wilbur rests his hand on the surface and responds “Wilbur”. 

Tommy nods and turns his attention to his transportation, which Wilbur has been focussed on excruciatingly long to keep steady. As tiny skin brushes onto his, Wilbur’s entire body freezes. In that moment, his strength is kept in keeping his hand still. It was also at this contact that Wilbur remembered how touch starved he had been as of lately, with days of laying in bed with nothing but a blanket and his clothes stuck to him. 

And now, there was a borrower climbing into the palm of his hand, settling right in the crevice where his fingers couldn’t help but curl at the touch. 

Wilbur tries to shake away the feeling of contact against his hand and turns away, Tommy kept carefully in his palm. 

“It’s fucking stupid to be scared of something smaller than you, pussy,” Tommy says, looking up at him through Wilbur’s curled fingers. 

Wilbur furrows his brows and looks down in return, shaking his head. “I’m not scared of you, I never implied that,” he argues.

“Uhuh. You seem to be going the wrong way, I recall the first hole being back there,” Tommy says, grinning like he’s already known.

Wilbur turns on his heel and starts off in the right direction. “And you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Well, you don’t seem like the most talkative fella’,” Tommy points out. Wilbur furrows his brows.

He laughs half-heartedly. “That’s fair.”

(*)

So much for a break.

He watches as Tubbo grins at him from the last hole, while he’s sat in a palm at the very first one. Tommy wrinkles his face and flips the other off, who in return follows suit.

Then Tubbo is distracted by the other human, leaving Tommy alone again. 

Might as well be worth it to pry Wilbur out of his shell if their day was going to have any confirmation of a good ending. 

“Alright,” Tommy announces, shuffling up from his spot on Wilbur’s palm and pushing his fingers away. The human obliges, standing scarily still. “How—how uh, how do you want to play?”

“I have no fucking clue what that means,” Wilbur says.

Tommy frowns. “Okay, well, I can help you, or I can, well, not help you—which I’ll be fair, either way ends in me not helping you, unless you're really lucky. And I don’t think you’ll be lucky enough, even though you are a sad, sad guy."

“I’m not sad!”

Tommy stares at him. 

“Okay, whatever, you caught me,” Wilbur says sarcastically. “And do whatever you fucking want, I’m sure I could punt you no matter you’re advantage,” the human says, chortling. Tommy gasps. 

“Fucking try me. Bitch.”

Wilbur hums and crouches down carefully, an irritating slowness to his movements that makes Tommy’s world go by in slow-motion. He’s scrambling for purchase on the fake grass as soon as he knows he can, which happens to instantly trigger a reaction from Wilbur, who’s other hand moves to catch him. 

Tommy lands on more skin, the softness of the landing being both comforting and infuriating. 

“Oi! I can handle myself,” Tommy yells as Wilbur takes the initiative to let him down. “I value my safety, I wouldn't've jumped if I didn’t, dickhead.”

The gentle-ness continued for the remainder of the game. And despite Tommy’s request for a stronger hit, (which he did execute a couple times, until it dispersed into small and lazy hits), he never seemed to take it to heart. 

But, the game did eventually end.

There wasn’t any winner that got to celebrate, it was just a little bit of a lighter mood. Tommy, hesitant as he would be to ever admit it to the human, had taken a liking. It was rewarding to watch a more violent part of him come out the more Tommy kept pushing him.

The rest of the day was ahead of them, and Wilbur had already seemed more eager than he had been to interact with the tiny. 

—–—

EUEUEUEUEUUE IT'S REEEEEEEAAAAAL !!!!!!!!!

#brickquiries #mw #brickfic #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #g/t #gt #t!tommy #g!wilbur #tiny workers au #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHGHG

[queenangst]

O patron goddess of platonic bkdks, I humbly request your assistance. I'm working on a fic where plot happens, and heavily involved in said plot is a time capsule that young Baku and Deku buried back when they were still close friends. My problem is that in the fic, I need to showcase the contents of the capsule, only I have no idea what baby Baku and Deku put in there, those rascals!!! Well okay, I do have a few ideas, but I need more lmao. Their time capsule is looking pretty empty rn. (As a teaser, I'll tell you the pièce de résistance is currently a pic of them wearing towels as capes, playing heroes, with sharpie on the back reading, 'future heroes Small Might and Dynamight!!!')

What else do you think we might find in such a time capsule? (Assuming you're okay with me yoinking the ideas you give me. I could credit you for the inspo if you want! If not then feel free to ignore this ask, lol.)

omg nonnie i'm printing out "the patron goddess of platonic bkdk" and i'm gonna put it up on my wall. i humbly accept the title that is so cute

1) can i just say before i actually answer your ask by SOME stroke of absolute coincidence i've ALSO been writing a fic in which bkdk are looking for and find a time capsule that they buried when they were kids!!!

2) that also makes this perfect because i did research for the fic to also come up with ideas for what could go in the childhood bkdk time capsule. you're welcome to use none or any of the ideas here. credit's not necessary but leave an offering for your patron if you'd like. i don't mind either way!

so time capsules are usually an activity by way to preserve memories and knowledge about that time in someone's life. so things you can consider:

what items and things do kids think are important? make sure you're considering their perspective - it's possible they might seem like 'trivial' things that are important to a kid at that time

letters to their older selves/to each other

drawings

small keepsakes

toys, if they can bear to part with them

small things from day to day life - ticket stubs, notes, receipts

hero merch

pictures!

paper cutouts from magazines or newspapers that are cool

gifts

i could see izuku storing away a notebook for his future self

if they get help from their parents or teachers (like if it's a project), then the adults might encourage more writing like filling out printables and that kind of cheesy stuff.

hope that helps!!!! enjoy the fic writing nonnie. and please. tell me when you post it id love to read it

#ur local deity #asks #anonymous

[myherowritings]

welcome to the family

SUMMARY. After mistaking the guy on your lockscreen as your boyfriend, your grandmother knits him a sweater to welcome him into the family. Childe sees your tweet about it the next morning.

PAIRING. celeb!childe x reader

WORD COUNT. 1.0k

GENRE. celeb au, loosely based off a tweet

A/N. small drabble because i kind of got excited at the thought of celeb au childe o.o also like...have u listened to his english va sing those cheesy songs? i absolutely love it HFJKGHG pls enjoy xx sof

You weren’t a fan of the celebrity with the title Tartaglia, alias Childe, real name unknown to the public.

Definitely not a fan.

The only reason you knew even that much about him was simply due to social media blowing him up as the infamous white boy of the month. And from there his fame only grew. (Though you had to admit, he was at least more interesting than the previous other candidates.)

You weren’t a fan, but you couldn’t deny he deserved the recognition he received. His acting was pretty captivating, his singing voice pleasing to the ear, and his body... Well, his body...

“Earth to Y/N,” your mom called, drawing you out of your rapidly spiraling thoughts. You were visiting your family home for the weekend and you were currently in the living room with your mother and grandmother, watching bad reality TV and snacking on junk food. “You’ve been spaced out today. Too busy thinking about your boyfriend?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”

Like most grandparents, your grandma seemed to have a special radar to let her know when her grandchildren had a potential suitor at hand. Just the mere mention of the word made her perk up. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah! I don’t know why they were keeping it a secret from us, but I saw the picture on their lockscreen,” she whispered to your grandma conspiratorially, loud enough for you to hear. “He’s a cute guy with ginger hair.”

The picture on your lockscreen off a cute guy with ginger hair… You were only half-embarrassed to recall that it was a picture taken from Childe’s outdoor picnic photoshoot where the poses they made him do attempted to paint the image that he was there on a date with you. His clothes were casual and his smile was familiar.

You absolutely hated that marketing strategy but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t willingly fall for it each time.

But again, you weren’t a fan…

Oh, who were you fooling? You were halfway from breaking and making a Childe fan account if your dignity didn’t get the best of you.

“Childe? He’s—”

“Your boyfriend! My grandchild finally found love in this world?” asked your grandmother, teary-eyed as she completely ignored her favorite trashy reality show on the television to get a better look at you. “I’m so happy for you! This is so exciting.”

“Grandma, wait—”

“You have to bring him home and let us meet him,” she rushed on animatedly, giving you no time to squeeze a full sentence in. “No, before you do that, let me make him something for you to give to him! What size is his shirt? Is that a picture of him? Oh he looks nice and strong! I’ll knit him a turtleneck. You give it to him the next time you see him, okay?”

Your grandma ran to get her knitting needles and yarn, leaving a whirlwind in her wake as you stared open-mouthed at the spot she once occupied.

That was how you ended up going home the next day with a brand new turtleneck sweater your grandmother made for your non-existent boyfriend.

The situation was so bizarre, you decided there was only one thing you could do: Pull your phone out as you sat on your bed to tell Twitter about the events of your weekend.

— ✩ —

It wasn’t everyday Childe woke up to check what the top tweets of his tag were on Twitter.

Okay, that’s a lie.

It was everyday.

He had an image to keep, after all. And it interested him to know what others had to say about him, despite how bad that might actually be for his state of mind.

Childe didn’t like deceit, but showing some parts of himself to only some people and other parts to others wasn’t lying. It was self-preservation. Everyone had a persona of sorts, and he preferred for his to be intact. What was the point of showing everyone every side of him?

He knew who Childe and Tartaglia were. He knew who Ajax was. As long as he knew, he’d be alright.

Was it a lonely path? Maybe. But it paid well and made his family proud. What more could he ask for?

Acting may not be as cool as being, say, a toymaker as his younger brother would proclaim, but at least he got to travel the world and explore places he never could’ve before. And the cute fans of his were also a definite bonus.

Childe continued scrolling through his phone when he stumbled upon a tweet that seemed to be gaining numbers quickly. It was posted only a few hours ago last night (his time, at least) by what looked like a personal account.

@y/n: Y'ALL WTF my mom saw my lockscreen (which is a pic of childe) and told my grandma that he was my bf and then my gma got so excited she knit him a WHOLE SWEATER and told me to give it to him. how could i break her heart and tell her he’s just a celebrity i like omg

@y/n: here’s a picture of the sweater she knit. isn’t it adorable? i almost feel too bad to just wear it myself though hjfkhg [Attachment: 1 Image]

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips as he looked at the picture of you holding the cream-colored turtleneck up, the large sleeves covering most of your body in the photo. You were right. The sweater did look adorable. As did a certain little fan of his who was also featured in the image.

Without giving it a second thought, he began to type his reply.

@TartagliaOfficial: Why wear it yourself? Didn’t your grandma say it’s meant for me? :( It’d be a shame to disappoint her.

In only a matter of minutes, he refreshed the page and found your name in his notifications. For some reason, he felt a rush of adrenaline flow through his veins as he waited for your tweet to load.

@y/n: am i being punk’d or r u asking me out???

Childe laughed to himself, exiting the tweet thread so he could click on the private message icon on your profile.

This would be fun.

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #HE HAS SO MANY NAMES HOW DO I TAG THIS HFDJGK #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader fluff #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia

[novaethecosplayer]

Hawks x Reader: Language Barriers-Pt1

A/N: So English is my first language and I'm pretty fluent in Spanish, while I'm trying to learn Japanese. This fic is an idea that popped into my head on how the hell I would try to communicate with these characters if most of them didn't know English (unlikely given how most non-US countries tend to teach English and their native language in primary school, but I like to imagine….). I also headcanon that Hawks has some basics of the more common languages down due to the HC wanting him to be able to do cheesy hero lines in any language in case Hawks needed to rescue someone who didn't know Japanese or English, which he is fluent in both. Anyways, i'm also using this as a learning tool with my Japanese and any phrases I don't know yet will be in English and clarified that they are supposed to be speaking Japanese. Everything is translated to English to the best of my knowledge PLEASE correct me if I am wrig in my Spanish or Japanese.

He had seen them walking around the liberation front several times. They don’t seem to leave the base at all nor do they show off their quirk like the rest of the villains within the group do. Usually, people are super excited that the number 2 hero is a part of their group and wish to speak to him, show him their quirk, or even train with him to get stronger; yet, they do not. They simply roam the halls listening to music and off in their own world or they are escorted around the hall by Dabi, who seems to not be able to take his hands off them. 

    Hawks had tried teasing Dabi about his significant other, since they seem to be a couple, but Dabi brushed it off—showing Hawks he doesn't care about the person at all, which puzzled him some more.

    Hawks had tried to speak with them on more than one occasion, but was never successful. Either they ignored him or someone else had interrupted his attempt.

    “(Y/N) doesnt talk to anyone but Dabi” Twice told him one day upon seeing that Hawks was briefly distracted from their lessons as Y/N entered the room, grabbed something, and left. “Dabi says they only speak one language and its not Japanese.” They both spoke in Japanese.

    ‘Which language?” Hawks asked upon seeing Y/N shut the door. Twice shrugged and then shook his fists in anger.

    “Dabi wont tell me!!” He shouted, then visibly calmed. “I dont know.” Hawks nodded and then continued with the lesson. He made the connection that is why they seem to ignore everyone but Dabi and why they have ignored him everytime he tried to talk to them.

    A day or so passed before hawks saw them again. He was returning from the city, a coffee in hand, when he saw them sitting out on the grass outside. This was the first time he had ever seen them leave the building. He glanced around and saw the Sliding Hero keeping an eye on them from a distance. “I can take a watch, if ya want!”Hawks called out to the lower ranked hero, who debated it over for a while before agreeing that he has better things to do then babysit and putting the number 2 on babysitting duty seems pleasing to him.

    Hawks landed on the hard ground and walked over to Y/N. Firat, he noticed their earbuds plugged snuggly into their ears. Then the way they swayed in the breeze to the rhythm of their music. He watched as their eyes roamed slowly from the grass to the trees to the clouds and back. Then they slowly turned to look at him, as if sensing his presence; he briefly saw them glance to where the sliding hero was a moment ago—obviously aware that they are to be watched. They looked back at him and gave a small smile then a wave—the most he had ever gotten out of them. He took it as an invitation to sit beside them. 

“はじめまして、Hawks と申します。 (Its nice to meet you, Im Hawks)” He introduced himself as soon as they pulled an earbud out. He watched as they crinkled their eyebrows and titled their head.

“はじめまして、Y/N と申します。にほんごがわkりません。(It‘s nice to meet you, I'm Y/N. I don't understand Japanese.)” They replied, surprising Hawks since he was expecting them to just not understand—let alone. Have such a well practiced response. He nodded and smiled reassuringly. Then he pointed at their headphones and then his ear, maybe if he heard what they listen to he can figure out what language they speak. They nodded and gave him an ear bud, which he put in—instantly recognizing the song as Bailemos (span. vers.). He smiled and looked up at Y/N, taking a moment to wracked his brain for him limited Spanish vocabulary.

    “Me gusta este concion. ( I like this song)” he told them. They looked at him with wide eyes then glanced down, seemingly pondering something before speaking.

    “Yo también. ¿Hablas español? (Me too. Do you speak spanish?)“ They whispered and tilted their head. Hawks’s smile turned apologetic. 

    “Un poco. (A little)” He could see them deflate a little bit as they realized that they would not be able to speak with him as well as they had hoped.

    “Ah si? Que malo. (Really? How unfortunate.)” They responded and he nodded agreeing that it was unfortunate that they are unable to speak to each other past limited simple sentences and sentence fragments.

    “Que es tu…rareza?? (What is your… quirk??)” Slipped out the question he has been pondering for a long time.

    “Energia” They responded. “Puedo crear y cambiar energías. (Energy. I can create and change energies.)” They lifted up their hand and showed him the energy of the breeze by giving it enough energy to glow lightly and showed him how they can capture it into a ball and form into into a new type of energy by squishing it down and then they hit it harshly and it caused a bang to ring out—the sound had startled Hawks, but the physics involved in changing one type of energy to the next seemed interesting to him; he also could see why Dabi kept a close eye on Y/N,if their quirk is as strong as anyone else’s around here then Y/N has the potential to be extremely dangerous. 

    “Incredible (incredible)” Hawks added, “Tengo solamente… estes (I only have… these)” he gestured to his wings as soon as he realized he couldn’t remember the word for wings in spanish.

    “Gracias y sus alas estas muy bonitos (thank you and your wings are very pretty.)” Y/N responded

    “Ah! Alas! (Ah! Wings!)” Hawks shouted and hit his forehead to show he had forgotten the word. “Gracias! (Thank you!)” Y/N giggled at his behavior and nodded.

    “¿Cómo puedes olvidar? (how did you forget?)” they asked teasingly and lightly pushed him with their shoulder to show that they were joking with him; he smiled, only understanding half of what they said.

    “Olvidar?” He repeated, tilting his head to show confusion—causing Y/N to think he looks like a little confused puppy, which caused them to giggle.

    “Ah… No requerdar. (Oh… i don't remember)” They tried to explain, “Cuando un idea escape tu miente. (When an idea escapes your brain)” Hawks then nodded and laughed. 

    “Ah! Pues, no se! (Oh! Well, i don't know).” He shrugged and Y/N laughed, finding it funny he forgot the word that describes his quirk.

    “Hawks! What are you doing?!” Calls out a voice, in Japanese, from the entrance of the building. They both turn to see Dabi standing there mad. 

    “Just getting to know our colleague here!” He called back, in the same language, with a bright smile.

    “They aren’t yours to get to know. Go away.”  Dabi responded then turned to look at Y/N and made a gesture that they should follow. They nodded and stood up leaving Hawks without a single word or glance—who seemed confused by the whole situation. He wanted to follow them but he needed to keep himself from getting into trouble and losing his position of knowing secrets, so he decided otherwise.

    Dabi led Y/N to their room and slammed them down. Y/N casted their head down, knowing they are about to get an earful.

    “How much does he know?!” Dabi demanded.

    “I told him the basics of my quirk. That's it. I think he didn’t understand it fully because it was in Spanish, which he doesn't seem to know too well.” They shifted from foot to foot.

    “I thought I said you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone but me!” He yelled, pushing them back and getting in their face.

    “You said I cannot speak English to anyone but you. You didn't say anything about other languages.” They corrected as they resteadied their feet after being pushed and looked back up at him.

    “You never told me you spoke other languages!” He growled as he stepped closer to them, towering over them.

    “You didn't ask!” They defended as they stood tall and squared their shoulders, trying to show that they were not afraid.

    “Well, hear me now! Don’t talk to anyone but me! Understood?” He demanded as he grabbed their chin and forced them to look higher up at him, squishing their cheeks roughly.

    “Fine.” They growled out and Dabi let them go with a huff.

#hawks x reader #mha hawks #x reader #mha #my hero academia

[hyvcklvr]

hEY 💕🔥 im like in my hendery feels today shsjsjsh anyways- could i req a first time meeting scenario w him it can be anyhow u interpret it to be yeahhh also ,, happy belated new year ✨ luv your writings,, hope 2022 does u good 🥰🥰

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it 💚

Smooth

Title: Smooth

Pairing: Wong Hendery x female reader

Genre: fluff

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

Terrible.

Terrible was the only word that could describe your day. You had arrived late to your part time job, due to the numerous projects your college professor had assigned. But of course, your boss, the manager of the coffee shop you worked in, wouldn't hear it, and was making you work overtime. You had to cancel all your evening plans, and were in a really bad mood.

As it grew late, you couldn't wait to just go home and rest your tired body on the bed. Your holiday vacations were going on, and this wasn't exactly your idea of spending them.

You saw no customers coming in, and as it was almost your time to leave l, you started packing up your things. That's when you heard someone else enter.

You let out a frustrated sigh. "Who drinks coffee at 9 p.m.?" You muttered to yourself as you went to the front.

"What can I get you sir?" You asked, putting on a tired, forced smile.

"An Americano, please." The man answered. You wrote down the order and further asked, "Your name?"

"Hendery."

Hendery sat at a table while you prepared his drink. You observed him as he scrolled through his phone. The man had a gorgeous side profile.

Hendery also noticed the frustrated huffs and sighs that you let out while preparing his drink. It was obvious you were tired.

You quickly gave him his drink, and he payed his bill and left. You noticed a small white piece of paper sticking out from in between the money. You opened it.

"I hope you know CPR, because you just took my breath away."

You bit your lip and weren't able to supress the smile on your lips. It was a cheesy pick up line, but for some reason, it made butterflies erupt inside you. Your face heated up and you tucked the piece of paper away in your pocket, smiling widely to yourself. It was a small compliment, but it made your day better than it was before.

For the next few days, Hendery would keep flattering you with his little pick up notes. The man was smooth with his words, and never failed to make you feel flustered. He would enter the coffee shop with the same flirty smile, and leave with a wink at you. Some days, you would find your coworker handing you a piece of paper, saying it was from him, and you would open it to find the same little compliments.

It so happened one day that Hendery was the last customer to leave. Your work for the day was done, and you locked up the café and left.

As you stepped outside the café, and to your suprise, saw Hendery standing near the entrance.

"Oh- Hendery right?" You asked and the said boy turned his head towards you and gave you a surprised smile.

"Oh, Y/n? Closing up?"

"Yes, it's been a long day." You said as you locked the entrance.

"Oh by the way, thank you for the compliments." You smiled, trying to ignore the nervous knot in your stomach. Hendery's face flushed with colour and he sheepishly smiled.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you liked them."

There was a small pause between the two of you, before Hendery spoke up, "You do know that I like you right?"

You were surprised at the sudden confession, and your ears turned red. "Wait, really? I thought you were just being nice to me." You said, biting your lips to prevent smiling too hard.

Hendery shook his head and said, "I'm a regular customer here, and I see you work hard everyday. I really like you, and I would love to take you out on a date sometime." He said, shyly. You gave him a small nod and he smiled brightly, offering to give you a ride home for the night.

Thanks to Hendery and his flirty lines, you were about to get the sweetest boyfriend ever.

And he just so happened to be very smooth with his words

A/n: I hope this was what anon wanted!

I've been uploading a lot of moodboards instead of fics lately, mainly because I don't have the energy/ideas to write one... But I am currently working on one so I hope you look forward to it 💚

I hope you liked it, like and follow, requests open and would be appreciated<3

Masterlist

#nct #nct x reader #fluff #nct fluff #nct u #idol x reader #nct wayv #nct imagines #wayv #wayv x reader #hendery fluff #hendery #hendery x reader #hendery wayv #hendery nct

[jekacatrina]

Fate don't know you like I do

Hello, guys, have this super cheesy and self indulgent piece I wrote for Bakudeku day! I'm so happy to be part of this fandom and all the wonderful content creators out there, so here's my little contribution, enjoy! I wrote it super fast so sorry for any mistake or typo!

Also, the title is a song I love, please check it out, it inspired the whole thing!

Izuku wakes up to the sight of his bedroom ceiling, body aching and mind restless. He’s no longer wearing his hero suit, except for the undershirt and his pants, everything else is gone. Slowly, the yells of the crowd infiltrate his thoughts and he wishes to run away, to go to where he can’t hurt anyone he cares about.

He has to leave. He is being selfish. Izuku props himself up on his elbows.

“That’s the face of a rabbit ready to bolt,” the gruff voice startles him, and he turns to see Kacchan sitting on his desk, frowning. It adds up that they wouldn't leave him without someone standing guard.

Kacchan has changed out of his hero suit, and a dark grey long sleeved t-shirt hides the bandages on his shoulder and stomach, but Izuku is keenly aware of the wounds he was sporting as he flew around trying to keep him from leaving. By the end, his childhood friend was bleeding through them. That was Izuku’s fault; both Kacchan reopening his injuries and the fact that he has them in the first place.

“Kacchan, I'm so-“

“Save it, nerd,” he abandons the desk chair and shuffles closer.

Izuku takes him in; after weeks of agonizing over the state in which he left Kacchan, seeing him do a perfect arch in the air and stop a villain with a precise AP Shot, filled him with a relief so strong, it paralyzed him, and he was only able to stare in awe.

During the following fight, if Izuku can call it that when it was against his friends, Kacchan was everywhere; coordinating different maneuvers, and he even had a new move. Izuku told his friends they couldn’t keep up, and he remembers vaguely that he apologized, because in reality they’re miles ahead of him.

Still, nobody is like Kacchan: certain and absolute, pure will held together by his convictions. He never backs down, and he never gives up, only marches forward. Izuku never stood a chance against him, in more than one way.

Kacchan kneels by the bed, putting an elbow on the bed, close to his hips, and lazily resting his head on his hand.

“Kacchan, I can’t stay here,” he mumbles, trying to convey all his inner turmoil. He wants to stay, he is so tired and scared, but he will not risk anyone for his sake.

Kacchan frowns in response.

“You can, and you will, dumbass,” he states, surprising him by clutching his forearm. “I’m not chasing your sorry ass around anymore.”

“Then let me go,” Izuku turns his arm, grabbing him as well.

“You’re not going anywhere, Izuku.”

The name travels through his body, lighting him up on the inside, coursing through him with the violence of the first time he used One For All, equally exhilarating and terrifying.

It all comes back to him; the rain, his words, his bow, Izuku collapsing and Kacchan appearing in time to support him.

Izuku.

“You apologized,” he whispers, tears coming to his eyes. “You said all those things in front of the whole class.”

“I had to, asshole, you left before I could tell you in private,” he doesn’t look embarrassed or regretful. Kacchan doesn’t shy away from his decisions once he makes up his mind. “Only a shitty letter for explanation and that was it.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t even let me go with you, idiot.”

“You’re still dealing with the outcome of the last time I let you come with me.” The tears are running freely down his cheeks. “I had to watch how he almost took you away from me.” He scrubs his eyes furiously with his free hand, not letting go of Kacchan. “I can’t allow more people to suffer because of me.” He’s on his way to a full on breakdown, struggling to get air in his lungs, and blood roaring in his ears, the noises muffled.

Suddenly, Kacchan is hovering over him, shoving his shoulder firmly.

“Hey, Deku, scoot over,” Izuku only glances at him through his crying, baffled. “Give me some room to lay down, like when we were kids.” He’s already in the process of climbing on the bed, and Izuku manages to slide his body closer to the other end, grabbing the bed cover when the weight of his childhood friend laying down almost makes him roll over him. “Jesus Christ, you stink,” Kacchan complains.

“I know,” Izuku turns on his side, creating more space between them. Hygiene wasn’t that high on his list of priorities, not even eating or sleeping was, and he feels awful. He didn’t have the energy to shower before passing out.

“You smell like dirt and sweat.” Kacchan scrunches up his nose. “Worst of all, you reek of that goddamn martyr complex, and it pisses me off.” he turns too, and traps Izuku in his red gaze. “If you’re choosing to ignore all I said before, at least pay attention to the last part.” He’s not sugarcoating his words, he’s as brash as he always is. “We all want to fight, because we’re heroes and we want to protect everyone, including the fucking chosen one, whether you want us to or not. I’m not asking for your damn permission, and neither is any of the rest. So, you can either play nice and make it easy for us, or be a self-sacrificial idiot, making it all the more annoying. Your call.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” Izuku grimaces, reaching for him with a shaky hand, and awkwardly squeezes his arm. “I’m not ignoring all you said, Kacchan” he chooses to focus on that, gaze in his All Might covers. “I, I forgave you a long time ago, mostly because I wanted to focus on the good parts, so in a way I let go of it for me.” He forgets about his smell, and scoots closer, resting his forehead close to his shoulder. “But thank you, Katsuki.” He hasn’t said that name in ages, but that doesn’t come from any animosity on his part. Kacchan has always been and will always be Kacchan. Izuku feels him move as Kacchan places his chin on top of his matted curls, and they stay like that for a while, with their past laid to rest at last.

Kacchan speaks up first.

“Listen, Deku, everything is getting pretty fucking real,” he pauses for a moment. “Shit is really dangerous for any of us, but for you it is like a thousand times worse. Your ass is a fucking death magnet, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“One For All is a big responsibility, Kacchan, but it’s not yours.” He does his best to keep his voice low and soft, the weight of the legacy crushing him.

“The Hell is not!” Kacchan retorts vehemently. “You made it my deal the moment you told me!” Izuku winced. “What’s up with that? Wasn't that the biggest secret ever? Are you that much of a blabber mouth?”

Izuku clutches his arm harder.

“I wasn’t going to let you think I lied all those years.” He explains, and in a moment of bravery, he continues. “I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Kacchan.”

The anger in his voice disappears as fast as it came.

“I know that, idiot.” His bigger hand finds Izuku’s hip. “One for All is your responsibility, but you are mine.” Izuku is pretty sure he stops breathing. “Since we were fucking four years old, and you were this quirkless little shit that wouldn’t quit chasing after me, no matter how much I pushed you away.” Kacchan scoffs and his breath tickles him. “Well, congrats, dumbass, now you have me and I’m not going anywhere.” His heart flies to his throat and doesn’t let any word come out. Kacchan growls, clearly bothered by his silence. “All for One VS One For All is the fucking shit show for the ages, and of course you, Deku of all people, have to be right in the middle of that crap.” He talks through clenched teeth, and Izuku longs to soothe him, but there’s nothing he can say to fix the situation. “All those who fell against that fucking maniac and now you have to-” Kacchan chokes up, and punches Izuku on the arm. “Whatever, there's nothing I can do for those nobodies that came before you, but you have an advantage over them.”

“What’s that?” He whispers in a small voice, not believing he is having this conversation in bed with his childhood friend.

“You have me,” Kacchan utters, and Izuku feels like he hit him with an explosion, sweeping his feet from under him. “Just let me set something straight, Deku, I’m not going to be your fucking sidekick, you hear me? You watch my back and I watch yours. I don’t trust anyone to keep up with you.”

I don’t trust anyone else to protect you.

“Kacchan-”

“You deal with this crap once and for fucking all, Deku, and we come up on top.” Kacchan declares, Izuku can hear the smirk in his words, and he has to smile back. “I don’t settle for anything but the best, and taking down fucking evil incarnated, I’m in, Deku, I’m all in.” He disentangles them, leaning back with a vulnerable expression, and offers his hand for Izuku to clasp. “What do you say?”

Izuku wants to say no, push him away from danger and lock him somewhere where he is going to be safe, but he knows Kacchan. He is determined, stubborn to a fault, and braver than anyone he has met. If he sets his mind on protecting Izuku, nothing is going to stop Kacchan, not even him.

That’s why Izuku loves him like he does.

In this space, with just the two of them, Izuku can be honest with himself: He is scared, and he has been for a while.

Scared of not living up to All Might’s hopes.

Scared of never mastering this power.

Scared of letting down all the people that gave up their lives to take down All For One.

Scared of being the wrong choice.

At the end of the day, Midoriya Izuku is terrified of not being enough.

In the midst of all the fear and doubt, he sees Kacchan; the person Izuku admires the most, the hero he has chased since he was four years old, and the driving force behind his progress. Kacchan, who knows all of him, and understands him because he sees Izuku for who he is, all the good and bad parts.

His Kacchan, who is now offering to help him and ease his burden, risking his dream, his precious life in the process, to stay close to Izuku and protect him.

A part of him, the one that imitates All Might, is screaming at him that he has to reject the support, to do it on his own. He should hold the weight of the legacy by himself. However, the other part of him, the one that believes Kacchan is what victory looks like, tells him he isn’t All Might and he doesn’t have to be.

He is Midoriya Izuku, and he is allowed to live his life and fight his battles on his terms, just as Kacchan does.

He clasps his hand, and Kacchan smiles, without a trace of mockery or anger, just plain happiness and relief lifting the corners of his mouth. Izuku hasn't seen him smile like that in years, and he needs to say something. He means to say yes to his offer, maybe thank him, but what comes out instead is:

“I love you.”

The punched out gasp that Kacchan lets out shocks Izuku more than his confession does. He can’t believe the words he has hidden for so long in his heart escaped that easily. More shocking is the fact that he doesn’t want to take it back. Even if he is scared of many things, Kacchan isn’t one of them. Yes, Kacchan frustrates him, he worries him, and makes him nervous, but Izuku is not scared of him, never has been. He can die any day now, any of them can, and he is done with silencing his feelings.

Kacchan is not screaming or scowling, neither he is leaping out of the bed and running away from him, so Izuku would say he is mostly stunned, although he doesn’t see why. His feelings for him are a key part of the person he is. Izuku admires him, cares for him.

Izuku loves him.

“Do you mean it?” The question seems to pain him. He hasn’t released his hand.

“Yes, Kacchan.” Izuku is not hiding it, not anymore.

“After everything?”

The words strike his heart and cut deeply. Izuku doesn’t hold any grudge or resentment, and he can’t tolerate the idea of Kacchan thinking he can feel something for him despite their past.

“Because of everything, Kacchan,” Izuku replies, touching their joined hands with his forehead, shying from the red eyes. “The past doesn’t disappear, but that’s not our present, and definitely not our future.” He takes a deep breath to calm his heart. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it to get an answer.”

“Deku, you can do so much better,” Kacchan says, bluntly.

Izuku doesn't let the obvious rejection deter him from speaking with the truth.

“I don’t see how,” he stares at him, mustering a wonky smile. “You are you, Kacchan; you’re brave, honest, loyal, brilliant, and hardworking.” The words spill without filter, and he drinks the sight of his pale skin blushing. “It’s not about doing better, just who I choose, because when it comes down to it, I chose you a long time ago, Kacchan.”

Kacchan tips his head up, the blond strands cloaking his eyes. Izuku refuses to regret coming clean about his feelings, but as the silence grows between them, he starts to fidget. Little by little, he realizes the true weight of his confession, and the bridges he might be burning.

“This doesn’t have to change anything, Kacchan.”

“It changes everything, Deku,” he replies, not missing a beat.

Izuku curses his luck; it was just like him to confess his love right when Kacchan finally came back to him, something Izuku hadn’t dreamt in his wildest dreams. Dealing with these feelings much longer, when they are so powerful and consuming is not possible. Still, he should have tried, for the sake of their friendship.

A callous finger touches his chin, breaking his spiral of thoughts, and lifts his face. The fiery eyes are wide and defenseless, embers instead of the wild inferno Izuku expected.

The first touch of chapped lips is an awakening, and his first kiss is over before he can finish tasting it.

Kacchan leans back, and for the second time in his life, Izuku’s mind goes blank and his body moves on its own, chasing after him. Their second kiss is messy, they don’t have any experience, but Izuku is lost to it. He tries to commit to memory every brush of their lips and ragged gasps, how soft is his blond hair, and the feeling of fingers sinking in his curls, guiding the kiss.

They break apart, but stay close.

"You didn’t have to do that, Kacchan,” he says against his mouth.

“I never do shit I don’t want to do, Deku.”

Izuku grabs him again, bunching up his t-shirt, so full of love that he fears he is going to float away if he doesn’t get a firm grip.

“Deku, I-“ his voice quivers and Izuku kisses him again, softly and reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Kacchan, you don’t have to say anything yet.” Izuku told him because he wanted him to know, but he has had years to come to terms with it. He’s not expecting Kacchan to figure everything out right now.

“You better stick around after that, you damn nerd,” he touches their foreheads together. “Or take me with you. Two options, I’m magnanimous like that.”

Izuku giggles, the sound so foreign after the past weeks.

“Okay, Kacchan, for that I’ll stick around.”

“Or you’ll take me with you.”

Izuku is still terrified of anything happening to him, but he trusts him the most.

“I’ll stick around or take you with me,” he promises, and Kacchan nods satisfied, wrapping Izuku in his arms and hugging him closer. “I thought you said I stink.”

“You fucking do,” Kacchan says immediately. “When I think about this, the first thing that is going to pop into my mind is that my first kiss smelled like a wet dog.”

Izuku laughs until he cries, and Kacchan joins him.

At one point, his back is to Kacchan, and he’s playing with his hands. Izuku’s so relaxed his eyes are drifting close, sleep taking over.

“Hey, Deku,”

“Yes, Kacchan?” he says drowsily.

“You have magnificent taste.”

Izuku snorts, pulling his arm tighter around him.

“I’m going to sleep now,” he murmurs, and he jumps when Kacchan buries his face on the crook of his neck. “Wake me up if something happens.”

“You can trust me, Deku, nobody is going to pass through me.”

Izuku believes him with his entire heart, but he still chooses to only think and not say what crosses his mind before falling asleep in his arms:

I would die before letting anything happen to you.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bnha 322 #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #happy bakudeku day guys!

[wizkiddx]

I would for sure read a continuation of the birth photographer fic if you feel comfortable writing it/have time! Xx

a/n sorry I kinda combined these two together, I hope this is okay!! sorry ive taken so long too!! my requests are still open, just going a bit slowly :)

summary: literally just birth + harry

dad!tom x reader

warnings: childbirth, mentions of fainting, squint for suggestiveness too

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Your doing so good darling, just keep breathin’ like that for me, in-out-in-out”

That had pretty much been the soundtrack to your last 3 hours. And yes it was MORE annoying than it sounds. Of course, that’s also ignoring the insane amount of pain your uterus was putting you through - as it spasmed while the little bug in there was wriggling away. Giving birth was not easy but giving birth with a husband-turned-midwife wittering away in your ear? Un-fucking-bearable. 

“Tom…. I love you but..” Everything had really been starting to ramp up in the last half an hour, you were a panting sweaty mess now. “Please… SHUT THE FUCK UP” Tom would’ve recoiled completely away from the bed because of your tone, if it wasn’t for the absolute death grip you had his right hand in. Instead,  Tom settled for straightening straight up and staring helplessly and dejectedly across the room at his brother - who of course was trying to hold back laughter, knowing it would be very easy for you to switch your target to him. 

Clearly it wasn’t a social call to the hospital, Harry was here under the premise of taking photos when the baby arrives for Tom;  but really to stop his brother from having his own breakdown - as commissioned by you. Lets just say, however scared and mortified Harry was of this ‘event’ he was taking a lot of enjoyment from how his brother was acting currently. 

“It’s okay sir, if you were pushing a watermelon out of hole that normally was the size of a whiteboard marker, I’m sure you’d be a bit tetchy too.” That lady was your favourite midwife and in a lull between the sets of contractions, you actually managed a laugh. Wide-eyed, Tom just nodded jerkily, murmuring some sort of agreement. It was at this point a flash of light reverberated around the whole room, causing you to breathlessly laugh, Harry’s face informing you the picture he just got of Tom was priceless. 

The laughter didn’t last long though, the next contraction had you bearing down on the bed, face contorted in pain as you sucked desperately on the gas and air tube. 

“Okay Y/n I think we might be getting there, let me call the senior midwifes in okay?” The midwife had your legs hiked apart, a blanket attempting to cover your modesty - but at this point she was basically sticking her face in your noon. Modesty was out the window. 

“Already?” Tom was shocked to say the least, from all his reading and research he’d learnt that the average labour time was more like 5 hours. Lets just say, Tom never exceled in school, never much enjoyed reading - which made the hours of highlighting baby books and pregnancy leaflets all the more extraordinary. 

“Babies don’t stick to the script sir.” You could tell she was proud of the pun there, because you know, Tom’s a moviestar. “Professional improvisers, the lot of them.” 

The cream walls of the hospital room very quickly filled with more and more people - Harry staying like a fly on the wall, now nervously biting his nails as he watched an obscene amount of medical people all take their turn oggling his sister-in-law’s bits. This was a weird ass situation. 

Almost immediately it was at the point the midwifes were telling you to push, which after 9 months of holding a baby in (as well as your ill functioning bladder) sounded like an absolute dream. But it was also absolutely terrifying and exciting and horrifying all wrapped in one. Naturally then, after nodding hesitantly at the midwife between your legs, you’d craned your neck across to tom .You might’ve just told him off, for trying to encourage you, but now? You needed his encouragement. 

What met you though, was his face completely drained of colour, mouth hanging slightly open as he hadn’t moved - still staring intently at the midwife. She followed your gaze, only taking half a second to survey the situation before knowingly smiling. 

“Can we get a bit of help for dad please?” Immediately one of the more junior looking midwives was directing (pushing) Tom into the chair next to the floor. Suddenly actually concerned, you looked with wide eyes to the lady between your legs, who you felt bad for not remembering her name. With a comforting squeeze of your ankle she reassured you he’d be right as rain after a few moments of having his head between his knees. Also sensing you needed your support, she arched up, beckoning over to Harry who had an equally bemused look on his face. 

“No - I-um I’m not.” His squeaking protests were interrupted by a large scream on your part, as another contraction tore through your body. Helplessly Harry glanced between Tom, who was still hunched over on a chair with a nurse squatted infront of him; and you, writhing around on the mechanical bed. He didn’t hesitate then, in jumping right to your side, allowing you to start crushing all the bones in his hand too. 

And then it was all happening, a blur of activity and screams. It didnt take long for Tom to pull himself together and then you were flanked on both sides by Holland boys - both giving cheesy encouraging words (which you would’ve again told them to shut the fuck up for, if you’d been able to), Tom also stroking the top of your head. He found it pretty impossible, watching the woman that he loved go through such immense pain - especially when he was technically half the cause. Well… actually more that that, it had been him who had been… well shall we say *needy* those nine months ago. 

“Okay Y/n the heads crowning, I know you’re tired but we need a few more big pushes, can you do that for me?” 

Merely 5 minutes later and the most beautiful sound in the world echoed through the 4 creams walls. You were absolutely spent, eyes closed as you panted, knowing tears were flooding down your face too. Immediately though, familiar hands cupped both sides of your face, a forehead resting on yours. 

“You did it Y/n/n.” His eyes were glassy, watering and red and the way he scoffed a smile in disbelief had you mirroring him exactly.

“We did it.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the yells of pain but it didnt matter. The midwife calling you by the name ‘mum and dad’ got both of your attention, a title you’d no doubt start getting used to. 

“Meet your beautiful baby girl.” Another choked sob escaped your throat, as  this little roughly wrapped up pink alien looking thing was placed onto your chest. Both you and Tom just gazed at her, completely transfixed at the way she wriggled her head slightly, nuzzling into your chest. Tom gently hovered his palm against her little head, while you pressed down the blanket gently, just so you could see all her features. 

Then a flash echoed around the otherwise silent room, making you all look up to Harry who was gritting his teeth in apology. “Do mum and dad want to smile for the camera?” The question was posed so hesitantly and quietly, really it wasn’t funny either. That didn’t stop you and Tom both pulling out the biggest grins and chuckling away, allowing Harry to capture the perfect moment. Being referred to as mum and dad - it was bloody comical. 

“You gonna tell me her name now?”  You looked from Harry to Tom, nodding in approval for him to spill the beans. 

“Amber. She’s Amber.”

You’d squabbled for months before ending on Amber. It had been a long relentless process, Tom claiming that your baby might just have ended up as ‘as yet untitled’ which you and your hormonal state had stormed out at. It hadn’t taken much to forgive it though, Tom had long since worked out that Ben and Jerrys was the way to your heart. 

The nurses took Amber back to do some tests, properly cleaning both you and her up and after that everything was weirdly calm. Harry had left to give the twothree of you a moment alone and Tom was about to do his turn of skin to skin. 

“This really is it isn’t it?” He murmured, whilst carefully scooping Amber from your arms. 

“Mhmmm… your stuck with two girls who’ll go psycho on you without a moments notice.” He seemed to accept it though, just nodding in response. 

“And I still can’t bloody wait.” His eyes penetrating deep into you, had you blushing like a nervous teenage girl. “ ‘m still so proud of you, you grew this little human.”

“Your not allowed to call her little because you didnt have the ‘little’ thing rip your insides apart.”

“Hey! I’m upset about it too! Was like I had to watch my favourite pub being burnt down.” Of course, trust Tom to make a dirty joke at a time like this.

“Don’t kid yourself, you weren’t watching, too busy fainting.”

“I didn’t actually faint!” This time he protested a bit too loudly, causing Amber to mewl a little and bury her head into the crook of her Dads arm. “I think Ambers just told you to shut it too.”

“You annoy the hell out of…” Your grumbling was interrupted by an impressive, ear-splitting yawn. “ You annoy the hell out of me.”

“But you love me?” He sing-songed, now back to a hushed tone. 

“I hope so, otherwise we’re in a bit of trouble.” He scoffed, but nodded his head, taking the hand that wasn’t cradling Amber to tuck some sweaty, knotted strands of hair behind your ear. 

“I do owe Harry though, he was at least able to stay on his feet.”

“He was a better birthing partner than you too, much much less condescending and annoying.” You sniggered, making Tom pout once again, only wiping the look off his face when you yawned again, rubbing an your eye like a toddler would. 

“If your done insulting me… get some rest love, I got you.” All you did was nod, with a small groan (because below your waist still hurt like a bitch) rolled over so you could fall asleep to sight of the two of them. 

“Got you both, my two beautiful girls.”

hope you enjoyed, would love to hear any thoughts <3

taglist: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #Tom Holland blurb #dad!tom #tom holland imagine #harry holland

[love4buckybarnes]

PROMISES

Summary: Bucky and Y/N we’re married and love. But differences had set them apart. A promise, one of many they had made, was broken, threatening the love between them.

Bucky Barnes x Reader. Warnings: car accident, minor injuries, mention of pregnancy complications, and angst. Happy fluff ending.

A/N: Let me know what you think of this one. The title is a bit questionable so if you have one that you’d like to share, I’ll credit you :).

They were both madly in love. When they first saw each other, the world stood still. Cheesy, but it was true. At least that’s what they would tell everybody of how they met. Their romance story is one you would read from a book or see in a movie. Bucky knew Y/N was the one, so he got on one knee and asked her to marry him. The day he proposed and when they made their vows and promises, were the most memorable moments together. Ones they could never forget.

Time went by and what appeared like the perfect happy couple turned upside down. Around family and friends, they put on a fake persona. Behind closed doors, the endless fighting and tension caused a rift between them. It started when they were trying for a family. Sometimes things aren’t just handed out freely to everyone. Y/N experienced fertility issues. It was stressful for the both of them. Most fights were over something small which would blow up out of proportion. Some nights they made up, and some nights, one would end up on the couch. Sometimes they wondered if they should give up.

Tonight was supposed to be important. Y/N had all of it planned out for the special occasion. She made reservations at their favorite restaurant. Bucky promised he would be there. Despite everything, she still loved him all the same. She wondered if he still loved her .

She sat there alone. The stares and looks of the people around her was unsettling and made her embarrassed. Y/N had been all dressed up and makeup done. Eventually, she had enough of waiting and stormed out.

The door to their apartment swung open. Bucky has been sitting at the table with his face scrunched up in concentration. He couldn’t even bother to look up.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Y/N spat out each name, crossing her arms. She was furious.

Bucky glanced up. “Hi,” he said quickly, before returning his attention to the computer in front of him.

This made her tick even more. She marched over to where he sat and slammed the laptop shut.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaimed, standing up. The chair fell backwards to the floor with a loud bang. “Why would you do that? I didn’t save what I was working on.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped. “Do you remember where you were supposed to be tonight?”

Bucky thought for a minute. After remembering and realized his mistake, he cursed. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

She stepped closer to his face. “You promised you were going to be there.”

“Sam needed me to work on this mission. It’s important. I got wrapped up in it.”

“So this was more important than what we had planned?”

“No, I did not say that. Now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” he fought back.

“Gosh, why can’t you just try to put in a little more effort?” She hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down her face.

“Me try? How about you?” he scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You have everything to do with this chaos of whatever this is just as much as I do. In fact, it’s all you. It’s all because of you!”

Y/N felt like someone cut into her chest with a blade and ripped her heart out. She always thought it was her fault. And now he blamed her, too. This has been the last straw. “Oh wow, well, thanks for the clarification I needed to know.”

“Where are you going?” he asked in a frantic tone when she headed towards the door.

She paused in her tracks to answer him. “I need to go. I can’t be here. Especially knowing what you really think of me.”

Bucky winced at her words and flinched at the loud thud she made when she left. The palm of his hand brushed over his face. He regretted what he said. He never blamed her. Whether she knew it or not, his love for her has been the same since they have met.

Thunder rumbled, and lightning dashed across the dreary night sky. Y/N stepped out into the pouring rain. She reached the car parked across the street. Before she could get in, Bucky stepped in front of her, blocking her from going any further. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Please don’t go,” Bucky begged. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

Y/N avoided his eyes and yanked away from his grasp. She was so angry, she didn’t know what to believe anymore. “Yeah well, you have a funny way of showing it.” She got in, locking the door. He knocked on the window. Ignoring him, she drove off. Her mind swirled and her eyes hazy with tears. She wasn’t sure when she would come back, or if she would return at all.

Bucky saw it happen right in front of him. He watched her drive off. Turning around to go inside to get out of the rain, he heard the tires from afar screech against the concrete. He looked back just in time to see the vehicle swerving. The slippery road caused the car to skid across the road. It hit a curb, tumbled over and rolled a few feet away.

He could hear his heart pound wildly in his ears, stomach turned in knots. He felt as if his airway were being constricted. Bucky didn’t feel his legs carry him over there, not caring he was soaking wet. All he cared about was her.

Darkness spotted her vision. A blurry figure appeared in front of her. Even through fogged vision, she recognized who it was.

“Baby?” Bucky croaked out, his voice soft, trying to keep himself calm. Inside, he was all but calm. He had to keep the sheer panic under control so he could help her. “Stay with me, okay? I’m going to pull you out.”

“Bucky?” she hissed out in pain.

“I’m here, Doll,” he said reassuringly.

Her eyes fluttered. A loud snap in her ear stirred her back to consciousness.

“Don’t close your eyes, love,” he pleaded. “Just focus on me, okay? Keep them on me.” He watched her fight herself from passing out. His hand reached in to unbuckle the seatbelt that held her to the seat. With ease, he unhinged the door, that was already hanging off the rest of the way. He carefully maneuvered Y/N from the car and set her down on the ground. He trembled as he dialed 911.

When he looked back down, she was unconscious. Blood seeped from the gash on her forehead. He slapped gently on her cheeks to get her to wake up, but she was out cold. Bucky felt like his whole world was shutting down. He couldn’t contain the sobs escaping his throat. He rarely cried. He’s only ever shed tears a couple of times in front of her. Once when they first said I love you and when they said their vows.

Guilt devoured his entire being. The whole time they’ve been together since being married, had been spent with fighting instead of loving each other. All he ever truly wanted was for the both of them to be happy. But he let the blaze consume them.

Hearing sirens wailing in the distance, relief released from Bucky. Flashes of bright blue lights got closer, and soon the EMTs were there to help. They placed a brace to keep her head and neck supported in case there was an injury before putting her on the stretcher. For Bucky, it was all in slow motion. He blocked out the EMT asking him questions, jumping into the back of the ambulance.

At the hospital, he tried following her into the emergency room, but wasn’t allowed to. He paced around outside. His foot tapped on the tile uncontrollably, the nerves wracking his mind. He held his head between his knees to keep himself from having a panic attack.

Couple of hours later, the nurse stepped out to talk to him. “James?” she called out.

He jumped up hearing his name. His jaw clenched as he waited to hear what she had to say.

“Your wife is going to be fine. She has a concussion, a few stitches, and a fracture in her collarbone ,” she started to say. He let out the deep breath he has been holding in. “The baby is also fine.”

Bucky whipped his head up, confused. “The what?!”

“Oh, maybe you didn’t know, but she’s pregnant,” the nurse clarified. “Luckily, the baby doesn’t have a scratch.”

Now he understood. Why it was so important to be there at the restaurant, and why she was so upset about it. The guilt he felt engulfed him more. He needed to figure out how to make it up to her. Bucky swore to himself he would never disappoint her again and to keep all the promises he makes.

Annoying constant beep sounds lulled Y/N out of her sleep. Vivid white blinded her vision as she came to. She groaned at the pounding pain in her head. Her fingers twitched, gripping the sheets. Eyes opened to the ivory room. Her face scrunched up, trying to remember what happened and where she was.

A snore next to her got her attention. Bucky slept in a chair beside her hospital bed, waiting for her to wake up.

“Bucky,” she rasped out, her throat scratchy.

Bucky stirred. When he realized she was conscious, he sprung awake. He called for the nurse to check her over, making sure everything was fine. When she left, he sat back down, taking one of Y/N’s hands in one of his, pressing it to his lips.

“Oh, baby,” he said, ever so softly. He brushed the strands from her face and tucked it behind her ears. “Oh, thank god you’re awake.” Tears brimmed, and he didn’t care, letting them fall. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes. He gently left kisses on her cheeks. Calloused thumb brushed the delicate skin.

“What happened?” Y/N asked.

“You got in an accident,” he explained. “Just a concussion, broken collarbone, and a few scratches. And you might be achy from the whiplash.”

Y/N shot up out of bed in dismay, only to be pinned back down.

“Hey, no, you need to stay in bed and rest,” Bucky ordered her, firmly keeping her from moving.

“But the bab-,” she began, but Bucky cut her off.

“I know,” he said sadly, interrupting her. “I know you’re pregnant. The baby is fine, love.”

Y/N felt relieved. “How did you find out?”

The small smile on his face dropped. “When they x-rayed you to check for injuries, they found out you were pregnant.” His lip trembled as he cried harder. “I’m so sorry. That’s what you wanted to tell me. That’s why you wanted me to be there. I should have kept my promise and showed up. If I had, you wouldn’t be here.”

Y/N knew he was being true to his word. She reached up to wipe the tears from under his eyes. He sighed, leaning in to her touch he missed. “I’m sorry too. I was so excited to tell you. Things haven’t been easy for either of us. I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

He shook his head, beating himself. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s not your fault. None of it is. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. From now on, no more fighting. I just want to be us again.”

“‘I agree, Bucky,” she agreed. “I’m tired of fighting too. You still love me right?”

“Yes of course I still love you,” he said, in disbelief. “I love you so much. I could never stop loving you. And when you left, I was so ashamed. Then I witnessed the wreck. I thought I was going to lose you for good. And now I’m going to be a father. You’re going to be a mother.”

Y/N started to cry too. He kissed away the tears leaking down her face. “We’re going to be what we have always wanted. A family. You won’t lose me. I love you.” She grew weak with exhaustion.

“Sleep, darling,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Before he could step aside, she took his hand to stop him. “Lay with me?” she begged.

He smiled, with the usual twinkle in his eyes that she adored. “Of course.”

She scooted over, making room for him. Bucky laid down next to her. Not wanting to hurt her anymore, he cautiously enveloped her in his arms. For once in forever, they both felt harmony. All the worries and differences lost in the past. They knew the rift between them was no longer. What seemed like the perfect couple hidden under the fire, still was. And they both knew their love for each other was now stronger than ever.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #imagines #avengers #marvel #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #winter solider imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky fanfic

[thekatthatbarks]

Fourth Time’s the Charm

saisaku, Rated G, 4.6k

ao3

“Sakura?”

Sakura wiped the sweat from her brow as she glanced at Sai. Still breathless from their spar, she asked, “Yeah?”

Sai met her eyes and Sakura was caught off guard by the seriousness there. Even as he took a drink from his water bottle, his eyes didn’t leave her. She watched as his throat bobbed as he swallowed a large gulp. Her eyes went back to his as he opened his mouth, his chest still rising quicker than normal as he tried to steady his breathing.

What was probably only a few seconds felt like minutes before he finally spoke.

“I’m in love with you.”

Sakura felt her heart skip a beat as she looked at him in surprise. It sounded like there was cotton in her ears as she asked him barely audible, “What?”

Sai nodded, a smile coming naturally to his lips. He repeated in a steadier voice, a slight flush to his cheeks, “I said I’m in love with you.”

Sakura’s mind went blank, her heart thudding loudly inside her chest. “You - what?”

Sai’s smile started to slip from his face and his brow furrowed in concern. He leaned towards her, his hand grabbing her shoulder. “Sakura, are you alright? Is your hearing - “

Sakura cut him off with a nervous laugh, stepping out of his reach. “Yes - Sai, did you just say you were in love with me?”

Sai nodded, looking at her confused. “Yes, Sakura. Would you like me to repeat it a third time?”

“What? No.” Sakura closed her eyes and swallowed a breath to calm herself down. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Sai in bewilderment. The man stood there looking back at her as calm as ever as if he’d just stated some random tidbit and not a confession.

Memories flashed through her mind. A pile of psychology and communication books stacked on Sai’s desk. Sai repeatedly saying the wrong thing over the ten years she’d known him. Sai not realizing Ino had been flirting with him for months. Sai calling her ugly, thinking it was a sweet nickname. Sai - 

“Sai, you are not in love with me.” Sakura laughed, shaking her head, willing her racing heart to slow.

Sai blinked at her then nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“No, you just - “

Sai interrupted her, breaking eye contact and looking at the grass beneath their feet. “Please don’t tell me what I’m feeling, Sakura.”

“But Sai - “

Sakura closed her mouth when he looked back at her, a pain ripping through her chest at the clear hurt on his face. She bit her lip, a dozen thoughts running through her head about how to steer this conversation, which direction she wanted it to go in the first place.

Sai sighed after a heavy pause. “I know over the years I’ve… struggled with different emotions and social situations. But I - this is something I’m certain of.”

Sakura nodded slowly, a shaky breath leaving her lungs. “You’re in love with me, then.”

Sai nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “I’m in love with you.”

A third time and she still couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Sakura’s thoughts were still a jumbled mess. The surprise of one of her best friends confessing to her still not having worn off yet. She didn’t even have time to process her own feelings, struggling to believe Sai in the first place.

While Sai was well known to be awkward at times, making many people uncomfortable with his lack of social skills, that had never been them. Sai and Sakura had never been awkward. He had never made her uncomfortable. Even now, the air felt heavy and maybe tense, but not awkward. 

Maybe it was because Sakura had always been Sai’s go-to person when it came to people and emotions he was having difficulty with. But she could only think about what had possibly led Sai to this conclusion. If it was something he read and connected incorrectly or a passing comment from someone. 

Because there was no way Sai was in love with her.

Sakura hadn’t even had time to think of another response before Sai was speaking again. “I know people usually ask for a response but I don’t want one.”

Sakura felt even more confused. “You don’t?”

Sai nodded, that smile back on his face. “I think it’s telling that you don’t even believe me, so I don’t need a response right now.”

Sakura felt something shatter inside her and she took a step forward. “Sai - “

Sai held up a hand and her feet stopped. “I’m going to make you believe me, then I’ll say it a fourth time. I want your response then.”

***

Sai wanted them to go on as if that day in the training field hadn’t happened. He’d said if she couldn’t believe him, then he must be doing something wrong. Sakura had argued with him that he hadn’t done anything wrong but Sai was stubborn when he wanted to be. He’d asked her to give him this, a chance to show her, and Sakura had been too weak to deny him.

She didn’t know what this would do to their friendship let alone their team dynamic but Sai was and would always be someone important to her. If he really wanted to do this, then she didn’t have the heart to stop him. Regardless of what form, she loved him and she’d promised him a long time ago she would be there for him as he worked through his emotions. 

This was simply another one of those times where he was confused and needed her help. Sakura would be patient and let him work through it himself. 

Even if it hurt.

***

Sakura thought Sai would resort to cheesy tropes he’d read about it in books. Maybe some flowers on her doorstep or some poetic lines spoken under the moonlight. But he didn’t do any of that. Really, nothing changed.

But maybe Sakura had never been paying enough attention in the first place.

***

While Sakura would never let herself be seriously injured - she was the medic, she had to be alive by the end of the day or no one would be healed - she rarely wasted chakra on herself, especially in the middle of a mission. 

It left her with a lot of scars and bruises, some burns that were too light to worry her enough. But it also made her the one who the med kit was actually used on the most. 

And Sai was usually on the other side of the needle.

Sakura winced, her hand curling into a fist on her thigh.

A soft voice tried to lull her, “I’m almost done.”

Sakura focused on the weight of Sai’s hand on her shoulder as he stitched up a shallow slash on her back. She wondered if recent events hadn’t occurred if she would have noticed the way his thumb stroked across her skin soothingly. 

No sooner had he placed the needle and thread back in her bag did he reach for her spare bindings. It wasn’t the first time he’d redressed her, wrapped the white bindings over her chest to tie it expertly in the back. His eyes never lingered, his touch never making her uncomfortable. Sakura had never thought anything of it. Not after the first time when she’d dislocated her shoulder and he’d helped her change out of blood soaked clothes. Sakura was the only woman on her team, but she never worried any of her teammates would take advantage of her. Their bonds were more important than that. 

But thinking about it now as Sai looped the cloth around her, she’d never bothered to ask Naruto or Kakashi. It had always been Sai. Sai stitching her back up, applying salves across her cuts and wiping blood away from her skin in the comfort of her tent. She couldn’t even remember if she’d even asked him or if Sai had simply offered.

“Sakura, are you in pain?”

Sakura broke away from her thoughts to look at Sai who was looking at her worriedly. She hadn’t even noticed when he’d finished. “Hm? No, I’m okay.”

Sai smiled and looked down at the shirt in his lap. He must’ve pulled it from her bag when she was drifting off into space. “You looked like you were thinking pretty hard about something.”

“Oh, I, um…” Sakura felt a blush warm her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. She shrugged, ignoring the flare of pain from her shoulder. “Just still processing the fight I guess.”

Sai nodded, accepting the obvious lie to her relief. He moved closer to her, lifting her arm. “Well, let me help you so you don’t tear open your stitches.”

Sakura gritted her teeth as he helped her slip on the standard jounin long sleeve. “Might’ve been better to just cut the sleeves off.”

Sai chuckled as he pulled it over her head. “Maybe, but the night might get cold.”

Sakura hummed in response, letting out a breath as the fabric settled against her skin. She felt her smile twitch as Sai leaned forward to tuck her knotted hair behind her ear. “Thank you, Sai.”

Sai smiled back at her and Sakura felt nothing but warmth from his eyes. He reached behind himself and handed her a hair brush. He didn’t offer to help again, knowing she didn’t like to be babied if she could do something herself. Plus she’d kept her hair short all these years and it only took a few moments to get the tangles out. She wordlessly handed it back to him and he tossed it into her bag.

As he zipped it back up, he told her, “Kakashi will most likely give you the last watch, so get some rest. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

Sakura stubbornly argued, “I’m not so injured that I can’t take an early watch.”

Sai rolled his eyes at her and argued back, “But you are the only injured one on the team because you healed the rest of us.” He leaned back on his heels towards the tent flaps. “It’s the least we could do.”

Sakura sighed and watched him leave without further argument. 

***

Sai still didn’t always title his art pieces. Sketches in his book, especially ones that went unfinished, abandoned on old pages rarely had titles. 

But Sakura found out that he usually dated everything, in tiny script near the right corner of every page.

It had been sitting innocently atop her desk when Sakura had come back from a surgery. It took her a second to realize what it was, but as soon as she flipped open the cover she recognized Sai’s art style.

Another second later, she realized the page was marked with images of her. Sakura’s chest felt tight as she went to the next page and saw her eyes looking back at her. Then the next, and the next, and then one after that, and so on. The whole book, this heavy weight in her hands, was filled with drawings of her.

With shaking fingers, Sakura went back to the front and looked more closely. They weren’t all detailed, but she could tell it was always her. Some even felt familiar, as if she could remember the day Sai had been picturing when he was drawing. 

Her eyes followed the length of her leg to the edge of the page and that was when she noticed it -  a date from five years ago. Sakura’s fingers paused as they lifted the corner of the page, then went to the next. 

Eventually, Sakura gently placed the book back on her desk and sat down in her chair. Her eyes stayed glued to the black cover, the worn edges of the pages. 

Her mind went foggy as numbers flooded it.

Years.

Sai had been drawing her for years. 

But the more surprising thing to her was how she felt looking at all those brush strokes. The detailed drawings and the casual lines of a half-finished sketch.

She felt loved.

***

While they would always be Team Seven and Team Kakashi, their unit officially broke up when Kakashi was appointed Hokage. Yamato moved on to Kakashi’s guard - though they weren’t supposed to know that - and Naruto spent more time on diplomatic missions. Sakura filled in on S-class missions whenever there was a need for a medic and was at the hospital the rest of the time. She thought Sai might follow Yamato or even into the rest of ANBU, but he stayed on the mission roster.

For teams of two, they were sent out together more often than not. Sakura hadn’t thought to question it until months later.

“I know we work well together but I’m still surprised we get assigned to the same missions so much.”

Sai replied casually as he stoked a fire as they settled in for the night, “Oh, that’s because I always request you when I’m given the choice.”

Sakura looked up from the small fire in confusion. “Request me?”

Sai nodded then paused looking over at her. He explained with a tentative smile, “Ah, since you’re a medic, you’re not given the lead on missions. For A-class missions and above, whoever is assigned primary lead tends to get the option to pick their team members.”

Sakura glanced off to the side as the words sunk in. “No, I mean I know that. I guess I just… I guess I never realized you’ve been picking me this whole time. I didn’t think about it. I thought Kakashi was just assigning us together.”

Sai shrugged, leaning back comfortable against the tree behind him as the fire finally gained some life. “I suppose he might assign us together even if I didn’t ask.”

They were quiet for a moment with only the crackling of the fire between them and the sounds of nearby animals to fill the night air. Sakura hummed thoughtfully, her heart rate pounding more forcefully against her rib cage. She tried to lighten the tightness in her chest. “Having a medic is always nice.”

Sai snorted across from her and Sakura’s eyes went back to him. “I don’t choose you because you’re a medic, Sakura.”

Sakura pushed in a quiet voice, “Then why?”

Sai’s voice felt warmer than the fire as he replied, “I trust you. I always want you by my side.”

Sakura’s voice got stuck in her throat as felt herself blush at his words. She looked down at a twig escaping the fire and falling to the forest floor. Her heart raced in the seconds before Sai spoke again.

He sounded unsure for the first time as he asked her, “Does that bother you, Sakura?”

Sakura laughed softly to herself, biting her lip as she shook her head. 

“No, Sai, it doesn’t.”

***

Sakura couldn’t hear anything besides the sound of her own voice screaming inside her head.

It’s not enough.

It’s not enough.

It’s not enough.

Her vision was becoming blurred, whether it was because of sweat dripping into her eyes or tears threatening to spill over she didn’t know. She knew her body was shaking with effort or maybe even fear, but she continued to press her fingers deeper into the bloody mess of the chest in front of her. 

Words were spilling out of her mouth like a cup that seemed to have no bottom. She couldn’t even think about what she was saying. Pleas, empty promises, threats. She didn’t know anymore. But she kept them coming, breathing them out like the air that was shaking in her lungs.

She had lost her sense of time so she had no idea how long it had been when the world finally came rushing back to her. 

A hand gripped the back of her shirt roughly and jerked her backwards until she landed with a harsh thud against the ground.

“Sakura, stop!”

Sakura paid no mind to the voice and shot back up, reaching forward towards the body - no, person, they were still - 

Someone gripped her arm and Sakura’s head whipped towards them as pain shot through her. She clutched at the arm, looking down to see a red hand. Their hand? No, that was her hand.

“Sakura!”

Sakura finally looked up to see a face swim into view. Dark eyes and a pale face.

Sai.

“Sai.” His name fell from her lips helplessly and she turned back towards the person. 

Sai grabbed her shoulders and turned her back to him. “Sakura, please, stop.”

“They - Sai, I need to - “

“Sakura, look at me.”

Sakura shook her head and tried to break his hold, but his grip was more firm. She felt dizzy and her head started to throb, but she couldn’t stop. She had to save them. They only needed - 

Sakura didn’t know she had been talking out loud until Sai told her in a soft but firm voice, “They’re gone, Sakura.”

“No.”

Warm hands cupped her face and she met Sai’s eyes as her vision started to cloud. Her breathing was becoming faster as she repeated, “No.”

Sai’s breathing didn’t sound too steady either as he tried to get through to her. “Sakura, you did what you could. But you need to stop. You’re losing too much chakra. They’re gone.”

Sakura shook her head as she started to helplessly grip at Sai’s wrist. She watched as his skin started to turn red where she touched him and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her voice was barely above a whisper and she gasped, “I’m sorry.”

Sai leaned his forehead against hers. “No, no, Sakura, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry - “

Sakura’s breath caught as Sai pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly as she began to cry in earnest. She couldn’t even pinpoint a single emotion, she was just overwhelmed. His name was broken as she choked it out. “Sai.”

He squeezed her tighter against him as she buried her face into his neck, her hands clutching the back of his vest like a lifeline. “I’m here, Sakura. You’re okay. We’re okay. I’m not going anywhere. Just focus on me.”

***

Sakura thought about that day more than she’d like to. There were others like it, more than she’d like to admit. But that one had been the worst. Kakashi had taken her off the mission roster for a month while she recovered. Recovered with no injuries, but severe chakra depletion and a shaky mental state. She’d spent days in Tsunade’s office talking about survivor’s guilt, specifically of a medic. While it had been therapeutic to connect with the one person she knew could understand, it didn’t get much better.

It’d always be there, she’d always struggle with it. But Tsunade reminded her to count the lives around her instead of the bodies behind her. It had been harsh, but she was right.

When her mind wandered, she tried to remember Sai. She didn’t like to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t been there. But remembering the strength of his arms as he held her helped sometimes. Safety and comfort. Feelings that had become constants with Sai over the years. 

Sai helped.

***

Sakura had been almost asleep when she heard the tap on her window. She glanced over, her heart rate slightly elevated, to find a silhouette that was all too familiar. Swallowing her worry, she slipped out of her bed to open up the window. 

Sai slipped inside but only enough to sit on the window pane. He didn’t meet her eyes and Sakura watched his chest rise and fall faster than normal. The moonlight laid across his face as he asked her quietly, “Sakura, would you like to go for a walk with me?”

Sakura almost snorted at him. It was nearing two in the morning and she had an early shift at the hospital. She was sure Sai would be busy the next day as well. 

But she smiled at him, anyway, and answered as something squeezed at her chest. “Sure, Sai.”

They walked near the training grounds, the moonlight slipping through the tree leaves above them to light their path. The faint sounds of shinobi training drifted away as they neared a small stream on the edge of Konoha. 

Sai hadn’t told her why he’d come to her in the middle of the night and Sakura didn’t ask. 

His hand brushed against hers as they walked, sending shivers down her spine and making her bite her lip nervously. Sai talked to her softly, his voice warm and comforting in the cool night air. He told her random things, mainly paintings he was working on or some snippets of art history he had grown fond of learning over the years.

Sakura had never thought she’d know so much about something she’d hardly cared about in the past. But she found she could listen to Sai talk about the most mundane things if it made him happy. She was thankful for any topic that lessened that tightness in his smile until it finally stretched across his face into something more natural. 

Sakura had been quietly humming along to whatever artist Sai had been discussing when he drifted off into a gentle silence. She glanced at him curiously and he met her eyes before looking away. She didn’t know if she imagined the faint blush on his cheeks as he gazed up at the moon.

He answered the unspoken question of the night with a simple, “You put my mind at rest so easily.” He chuckled softly before looking back down to the ground as they walked. “You don’t even have to do anything besides be there.”

Sakura felt her face warm and slipped her shaking fingers into his grasp. She tucked her hair behind her ear with her other hand as her eyes wandered over to the water beside them. “I’ll always be there for you, Sai.”

“I know.”

She looked back to him to see a smile that she couldn’t deny made her stomach twist in knots. 

He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand.

“Thank you, Sakura.”

***

The sentence came out of her mouth without a second thought.

“Thank you, but I’m spoken for.”

Ino raised an eyebrow at her as the man apologized and excused himself from their table. 

Sakura sighed and then laughed, dragging a hand down her face. “Why did I say that?”

She didn’t even know if she was asking Ino or herself, but Ino replied with a shrug, “To let the guy down easily?”

It was an out that Ino gave easily, but Sakura couldn’t take it. 

“No, I…” Sakura’s eyebrows scrunched together as she stared at a crack in the wood of their table. “I said what felt right, I guess.”

Ino was giving her an odd look, but played along with her. “Okay, and why is that?”

“I told Sai I would give him a chance and I… think that this would go against that.”

Ino hummed, taking a drink from her bottle. Sakura had confined in her months ago, so while she didn’t completely understand Sai and Sakura’s dynamic, she got the gist of what was going on. 

 Usually on their nights out like this, they didn’t talk about anything serious. They would drink and laugh, poking fun at each other. But Ino didn’t comment on Sakura dampening the mood, She seemed to pick up on Sakura’s thoughts, that she needed to sort this out and have someone listen.

Ino was good about that. She had a way of breaking down what someone was really thinking even if they didn’t know it themselves.

“Has he said anything? Since… then?”

Sakura shook her head. Even thinking over the last few months, nothing had been out of the ordinary. But there had been this shift between them anyway, a different tone to overlay every interaction. She wondered for the dozenth time if she really had just been oblivious to Sai’s feelings and he’d been trying to show her in his own way for a long time.

Ino smiled, giving her an amused look. “But you’ve already given yourself to him anyway, haven’t you?”

Sakura blushed and stammered, “I haven’t - “

Ino pointed her bottle at her before taking another drink. “In your heart, Forehead. You know what I mean.”

Sakura stared at her for a moment as the words sank in, then she laughed and took a shot of her sake.

“Yeah, I guess so, Pig.” The alcohol was warm going down her throat. “I guess so.”

***

Sakura could tell Sai was about to say his usual goodbye after their sparring session and interrupted him. “Sai, can we stay awhile? Just rest?”

“Of course.” Sai looked at her warmly, a smile on his lips.

They stepped over to the tree their packs laid at and Sakura hesitated as Sai sat down to lean back against the bark. He looked up at her in question and Sakura swallowed down her nerves before kneeling in front of him. 

“Will you hold me?”

It felt ridiculous coming out of her mouth but she tried to not regret it. She rarely asked for things she wanted and Sai made her feel like she always could with him.

Pink dusted his cheeks as he awkwardly held open his arms with a nod. Sakura wondered if he was too nervous to speak, worried if he’d say the wrong thing.

She carefully made her way into his arms, settled back against his chest between his legs. Sai wrapped his arms around her waist as she leaned back into him, her head against his neck.

After a moment, her heart had calmed down to a steady beat and Sai asked her quietly, “Am I… doing this right?”

Sakura couldn’t stop the fond smile on her lips, not that she wanted to. She rested her arms over his and let out a content sigh. “Yes, Sai.”

He hummed in response, his body relaxing as he leaned his head against hers.

She didn’t know how long they laid there before she admitted to the wind whispering through the trees, “I feel safe here.”

Sai paused before asking uncertainty, “In Konoha?”

Sakura chuckled and clarified with a blush, “In your arms.”

Sai stilled in surprise as he processed what she said, then tightened his arms around her. 

Sakura wasn’t nearly as bold as Sai. She had too many years of expectations and insecurities shoved down her throat to be bold. But she tried to be more bold for Sai, more honest, and vulnerable like he was with her.

“I…” she started off faintly, then cleared her throat. “When it gets… hard, I think about you. About how you look back for me, how you’d carry me half-dead through a field of enemies before you’d leave me. You make me feel… so secure.” 

Sai was quiet beside her and she continued, “You know, I never sleep as well on missions when I’m with someone else.” She shrugged with a longing feeling. “Well, maybe Naruto and Kakashi but those days are behind us.”

She gave him a moment and then told him as bluntly as he had her, “I’m in love with you.”

Sai’s arms loosened around her in surprise as he lifted his head to look at her. She turned her face to see the surprise and confusion etched into his face inches from her. She couldn’t help but smile and lifted a hand to hold his cheek. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll work hard on you believing me.”

A short laugh escaped his mouth and he turned his face into her palm to place a small kiss there. “So, you believe me, then? What I said all those months ago?”

Sakura pressed her forehead against his, turning in his lap. “Yes, Sai, I do.”

As promised, he told her a fourth time against her lips as he closed the distance between them, “I’m in love with you, Haruno Sakura.”

She didn’t think she needed to repeat it again for him to understand what her response was. She simply melted into his kiss

#kat writes #saisaku #tw blood #blood #romance #friends to lovers #love confessions #4.6k

[adorethedistance]

READING MY BOYFRIEND’S FANFICTION?? - Owen Joyner x Influencer!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: OMGGG!! Could you do a an Owen fic based around his girlfriend being an armature youtuber/social media influencer (shes also an actress and they met on set and have been dating for a while) and it’s “reading/reacting to my boyfriend’s fanfiction” ? You can do whatever you want with the fanfic part it’s just a concept that has been running around in my head for a while. LOVE ALL YOUR WORK!!

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, very mild

Words: 1460

A/N: A fic?? From Ace?? Hi. I’m off spring break officially and so my stress has dissipated immensely. School was becoming so much these last two weeks and I thought I’d be stressed or worried, but I’m actually fine? It’s weird lol so I decided I could be productive with my stress-free moment and post a little fic for y’all. I love this prompt, and before any of you writers panic, I’m using my own fics for the fanfictions because I wouldn’t want to put y’all on the spot like that. Also this is my 3000 post! thought that was cool lol

“Do you wanna do the intro?”

“I think I have to do the intro.”

“Okay, go for it.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out a heavy breath in exaggerated preparation for my (some would say lengthy) intro. “Hello, hi. Yes, okay, this is Y/n Y/l/n vlogs, welcome or welcome back to my channel!” Once Owen finishes his statement I’m so stunned I can’t generate any sort of response other than a slacked jaw semi smile.

“That was not even close. Do you know my intro?”

“I got the first part right!”

“You’ve lost intro privileges,” I turn back to the mess of lights and tripods in front of me and ignore the disaster of an intro Owen offered. “Oh, hello, hi! I am Y/n and this is: Reading My Boyfriend’s Fanfiction!”

“That’s basically what I did.”

“No, it is not! It’s ‘oh, hello, hi. I am ‘name’ and this is: ‘title of video’.”

“You don’t ‘welcome to my channel’?” Owen’s voice has dropped to a hushed volume as he genuinely inquires about the segments of my usual introduction.

“I do not.”

“Don’t use any of this,” he pleads when making direct eye contact with the camera. “Mister Sid. Editing Sid, please don’t embarrass me.” His pleas fall on deaf ears, knowing that I’ll be using the footage in full.

“Anyways. Butchered intro aside, I am Y/n and today I am here with my lovely “So Many Stars” costar and scene partner, Owen Joyner!”

“I’m also your boyfriend.”

“That too,” I give Owen’s pointed comment a soft place to land, “So, yesterday--it was actually like, two weeks ago, I don’t know why I said yesterday--a little while back, I came across a tweet telling me someone had written a fanfic about us-”

“Did you read it?”

“On Wattpad. Of course, I read it. There are only three chapters up right now and they’re all in the 2-3k range so it was a quick read.”

“2-3k?”

“Words,” I reply nonchalantly as I unlock my phone. I bookmarked a few one-shots beforehand for us to read, and I’m slightly cocky about my selections. Owen then responds with an outburst of shock.

“2-3 thousand words is a short read?” I merely give him a blank stare.

“Judging by that reaction, Owen hasn’t read any fanfics in his life.”

“Is that not long to you- That’s what she said.” Owen cuts me off with his own stupid joke and I briefly sigh before answering.

“No, that isn’t long. Baby, I’m here for that 130k slow burn enemies to lovers on AO3 with the ‘only one bed’ and ‘locked in a closet’ tropes.”

“The what?”

“Oh, we have so much to catch you up on.”

__________________________

“So I saved three fics, an angst, a fluff, and a smut. Which do you want to read?”

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“Oh my- okay. Angst is the sad shit, it’s what you read when you need your heartbroken and a good cry. Smut is pretty much in the name, it’s explicit content that will undoubtedly get this video demonetized, but that’s okay because we do have a sponsor. And fluff is the cute moments, domestic and sometimes mundane romance that makes you smile like an idiot and put the device down to screech into a pillow.” Throughout my whole explanation, I can tell Owen was becoming more and more lost, so I opt to give him a few moments to collect his thoughts.

“Let’s start with the fluff just to ease into things.”

“Smart choice. This fic I have saved is called ‘Baby Fever’ and the summary says ‘you and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own’.”

“That sounds so ominous.”

“Here, I’ll read the narration and reader’s POV, and then you’ll read your own dialogue.” Owen nods and leans over my right shoulder to read off of my computer screen.

“You actually start the fic.”

“‘You ready, little one?’” The instantaneous actor mode Owen slips into has me howling with laughter at which he looks at me confused. My gasping for air makes Owen laugh empathetically despite still being unsure as to what’s killing me at the moment.

“Why are you laughing?!” He yells, dramatically shaking my shoulder.

“Just the way you jumped into that, I wasn’t prepared for you to turn on the acting charm. Okay, uhhhh, ‘I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat’.”

The two of us go back and forth between reading the narrative, bouts of laughter, commentary on the accuracy of Owen’s character, and we finally manage to finish the 2.5k fic in about forty minutes.

“‘When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple-’.”

“‘I told you so.’”

“That was cute! I like the tie-in of having us watching over Baby Shada- or, sorry, you and ‘y/n’ watching over Baby Shada.”

“They wrote me kinda funny, I don’t think I’d ever fabricate a life to make conversation with a stranger due to baby fever.” My jaw drops slightly and before Owen can respond to my reaction, I cry,

“That is such a lie!”

“What?”

“You absolutely would do something like that, are you kidding me?!”

“No, I would not!” Owen punctuates every word with the utmost offense. He has the same look in his eye as when he was proving himself to be the cleanest phantom of the three on the Sunset Drive podcast.

“You literally told the guy at Home Depot yesterday that we were buying plants for our child’s nursery!”

“Okay, that’s different-”

“How is that different? That’s the exact same thing as fanfic you!” Owen’s furrowed brow and dropped jaw are a sight to be seen as he leans away from me, bending at the waist to stare at me with defiance. I raise my eyebrows pointedly as I await a response. Instead of actually producing a response, Owen lunges forward, grabbing my waist in his hands and squeezing gently. The feeling makes me screech and gasp of laughter from surprise and also being ticklish.

“Owen! Owe-STOP, I’m gonna drop my laptop!” I manage to say through my laughter and with one final grab, he releases me from his hold. It takes a minute for my laughter to settle but once I do, the two of us are simply breathing heavy and staring at one another with giddy smiles on our faces. In a moment’s clarity, I turn to look into the camera lens to talk directly to my editor,

“Sid, don’t use any of this. And please don’t cut to this after we finish reading to make it look like- things were happening.”

“Actually, I think you should, Sid. Just cut to right there and make the world think we-”

“OKAY, thanks for watching, bye!” I quickly stop the recording before Owen says something we’re unable to recover from. I hear him laugh gently behind me as I set my laptop down on the coffee table behind the tripod. Coming back to the couch, I move to plop down but before landing successfully on the cushion next to my phone, Owen grabs my body and moves me to sit on top of him.

“You are crazy, you know that?”

“Hmm. Crazy for you, maybe.” His cheesy line makes me scoff but smile nonetheless. I reach my right hand up to caress the side of his face as we sit cheek to cheek.

“Remind me to never film with you again.” The gesture is sweet and the sentiment is not which makes Owen laugh and he presses a soft kiss to my cheek. I lean back into him so my back is pressed flush with his chest as he lazily wraps both arms around me.

“You say that now but you’ll regret it when you wanna do a ‘boyfriend does my makeup’ challenge video.”

“Nah. I’ll just call Charlie to-” Without allowing me to finish my sentence, Owen is digging his fingertips back into the tissue of my sides and I squeal with laughter once more. This time the torment is short-lived and Owen releases me after a sweet, reconciling kiss. “Do you have baby fever now?”

“It was cute and all, but not really, no.”

“That’s too bad,” I stand up from my spot on his lap to grab my computer and hold it to my chest, “I was gonna say we could practice some baby-making.”

And with that, I turned on the balls of my feet, heading for my bedroom when I heard Owen stand up eagerly, quick to follow.

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell@n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki@vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​

#Julie and the Phantoms #Julie and the Phantoms fanfiction #Julie and the Phantoms fic #Julie and the Phantoms writing #Julie and the Phantoms imagine #Julie and the Phantoms oneshot #Julie and the Phantoms one shot #Julie and the Phantoms fluff #Julie and the Phantoms smut #Julie and the Phantoms angst #Julie and the Phantoms fanfic #Julie and the Phantoms x reader #Julie and the Phantoms x y/n #Owen Joyner #Owen Joyner fanfiction #Owen Joyner fanfic #Owen Joyner fic #Owen Joyner writing #Owen Joyner imagine #Owen Joyner oneshot #owen joyner oneshot #Owen Joyner fluff #Owen Joyner smut #Owen Joyner angst #Owen Joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #Owen Patrick joyner #Owen Patrick joyner fanfiction #Owen Patrick joyner fanfic #Owen Patrick joyner fic

[storiesforallfandoms]

sister’s approval ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1415

request?: yes!

“Machine gun Kelly x female reader. The reader is Kells younger sister who’s a singer and who’s really close to kells. When kells and Megan start dating people start saying how Megan is trying to push her out of kells life, trying to make kells forget about his sister even though Megan and kells sister immediately became best friends when kells introduced them. She finally has enough of people saying stuff about Megan and she posts on social media saying that she’s tired of people saying stuff that isn’t true and that her and Megan are best friends and she doesn’t hate Megan and that she’s really happy that her brother found someone as amazing as Megan. Please and thank you”

description: in which the tabloids are trying to paint her brother’s girlfriend as a bad person, so she decides to set the record straight

pairing: machine gun kelly x sister!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

She ran right past her brother and immediately tackled his girlfriend instead. Megan chuckled and hugged (Y/N) back as Colson watched with amusement.

“Good to see you too, sis,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re cool I guess,” (Y/N) said, waving Colson’s comment away. “We both know I’m here for Megan.”

“Weird, I thought you were here to record a song with me.”

“That’s like the side quest, the main mission is Megan.”

Colson rolled his eyes. (Y/N) made her way to his home studio, basically making herself at home in his house.

Despite both of them being in the music business for over 10 years, neither of the Baker siblings had ever done a song together. With the production of his next album, Colson insisted that (Y/N) made a feature on the album. She said yes on the condition that they both kept it an absolute secret until it was released to which Colson agreed.

(Y/N) threw herself down onto the couch in Colson’s home studio and pulled her songwriting notebook from her bag. “I have a few different verses written just because when I started writing I couldn’t stop. You choose one that sounds best with the rest of the song.”

“I’m sure all of them would work.

“Yeah but we can’t do a six verse song, that’s just too long. Pick one and I’ll use the others for a different song.”

Colson took the notebook and read through the verses. (Y/N) took her phone to look through social media while he read them. Megan was sat next to her, sending each other 8 Ball games back and forth between social media sessions.

After scrolling through Instagram for a while, (Y/N) switched to Twitter to find her own name trending. Confused, she clicked it to find an article at the top of the trend. The title read: “MGK blows off sister again! The rapper stands up (Y/N) for Megan Fox yet again”, accompanied by a picture of (Y/N) sat alone outside of a restaurant.

She didn’t have to read the rest of the article to know it was bullshit. The picture was of (Y/N) waiting on a friend outside the restaurant, not Colson, and the headline was so false that (Y/N)’s hands started to shake.

“(Y/N)? You good?”

Colson’s voice brought (Y/N) out of her enraged trance. She looked up to see him and Megan looking at her, expectantly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she responded. However, another brief glance at her phone brought her anger back. “Actually, no, I’m not. I’ll be right back.”

She got up and walked out of the studio. She went to the living room, far enough away that she knew they wouldn’t be able to hear her as she filmed her video.

The press had been trying to pin (Y/B) and Megan against one another since she and Colson started dating. (Y/N) and Colson had always been close, but once Colson started dating Megan, the paparazzi started taking pictures of just the two of them or just (Y/N), totally ignoring the fact that (Y/N) was constantly posting pictures and tweets about Megan, and that all three of them spent time together often.

(Y/N) had had enough of the lies and the clickbait just to make Megan and Colson look like bad people. She was about to set the record straight, whether people wanted to hear it and believe it or not.

She switched her phone to Instagram again and went to her story. She held her phone up so that she was framed perfectly in the shot and held down on the button to begin recording.

“Hey everyone! I just wanted to address something really quick,” she started. She held the phone out so that the camera would pick up the background. “You see this behind me? This living room I’m in? This is Colson’s living room, because I am in Colson’s house. I am here spending time with him and with Megan, as I do almost every day. I am bringing this up because I just saw yet another article trying to make it out as if Colson has stopped spending time with me due to Megan. These articles are nothing but clickbait and lies to try and grab reader’s attention, especially the attention of my fans.

“Colson and I have not had any sort of falling out. There are no ill wishes from me towards Megan, and vice versa. In fact, Megan is my best friend. I like her more than I like Colson. And no, Colson has not stood me up or dumped me for Megan. Does he like to have his alone time with her? Of course! All couples do! But we still spend time together and we still talk to one another. There’s no bad blood between any of us. To the tabloids that have been spewing this bullshit for nearly a year now, I’d like for you all to kindly and politely shut the fuck up and move on. If I keep seeing this slander about my family, I will not hesitate to take legal action. To any of my fans who actually believe this and are sending hateful messages to Colson and Megan, I also beg you to stop. They are my family, and by hurting them you are hurting me. Whether you choose to believe this video or not is totally up to you, but this is the truth. All three of us, we’re a family. So fuck off of my family.”

(Y/N)’s hands were still shaking as she pressed “post”. She watched the videos load one by one before they were all posted to her story. The moment they went up, the views came flooding in, as did the positive messages. Many of her fans sent her private messages in response to the story, telling her they were sorry that she and Colson had to deal with that and assuring her that the real fans knew there was no ill intentions between the three of them.

Satisfied that she had finally gotten that off her chest, (Y/N) went to Colson’s kitchen and poured herself a glass of water before going back to the home studio. As she walked through the door, both Colson and Megan’s heads turned to look at her.

“Did you guys want water, too?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“You could’ve told us you were going to film that video,” Colson said. “We could’ve addressed the rumors, too.”

(Y/N) sighed and took her spot on the couch again. “I know that, but I felt like it had to be me addressing it. I was the one being made out to be a victim. If you guys said anything before I did, everyone would just think you’re trying to cover your own asses. You can make statements if you want, but I felt like I had to be the first one to speak up about this.”

“She’s right,” Megan agreed. “If we came out about it first it would just be fuel to the tabloid’s fire. Although, I don’t think we should have to make any sort of statement about it. The fact that anyone believes that shit makes no sense to me.”

“People like to demonize celebrities they don’t like,” (Y/N) responded. “Whether it’s true or not. Chances are that video will be taken out of context to fit their agenda, but whatever. I said my piece, I’m moving on.” She nodded to her notebook in Colson’s hand. “Did you choose a verse?”

Colson looked down at the notebook before passing it back to (Y/N). “They’re all really good, so I thought maybe, instead of one single, we do an entire album together.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Like you actually wanna do that?”

Colson nodded. “Yeah! I think it’ll be a fun surprise to both of our fanbases, and it’ll definitely make up for the last ten years where we haven’t worked together.”

(Y/N) was basically bouncing with excitement. “Oh my God, this album is gonna be so fucking awesome! We should give it a really cheesy name, like Baker’s Dozen.”

“No,” Colson said.

“Yes!” Megan retorted.

“Two against one, it’s being called Baker’s Dozen,” (Y/N) decided. She and Megan high fived while Colson buried his head in his hands and let out a groan.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #imagine #one shot #sister!reader #request #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

[twst-campos13]

ah hello!! i'm literally so excited to see a blog for enby and male readers sodjfoijf,,could i maybe request a scenario where male reader is a staff member (idk?? like a librarian?? a nurse??? do they need nurses over there???) and is crushing on crewel but is too scared to confess because he's both Too Dense to pick up any signs of potential reciprocation and also just isn't sure if crewel likes men??? maybe. maybe with a happy ending though because i am a fool,, thank you very much!!

One hopelessly cheesy scenario coming up!! Thank you for requesting! I hope you don’t mind I made reader a librarian who may or may not be a bit of a romantic because i listened to a particular playlist while writing this- (commentary in notes!)

Warnings: none! Tags: male!reader, fluff!

A simple man such as you live a simple life. As simple as life can be in Night Raven College, that is. A prestigious school that holds a student body that can barely tolerate each other. It would be typical for a librarian to be the observer than the observed, but hey, if it means getting out of trivial matters of the school and enjoying the show in your personal bubble, then you have no complaints.

This attitude of yours did come to have its own consequences. You were seen as timid by most students as you were quite closed-off, taking it as a reason to poke fun at you sometimes. You proved them wrong when they step out of line with their fun. Most of the time you choose to ignore them. However, you lived up to your introverted nature, especially when it comes to him.

Tall, dark, and handsome. Approachable but also not at the same time. Sharply dressed and sharp attitude. This man that visits the library ever so often had become your daily motivation to keep on working at this school despite the wage that Crowley gives you.

Divus Crewel, feared and admired by staff and students—also known as the man who stole your heart.

You feel so small compared to him. That would not be so farfetched. He is a remarkable man, and what about you? You are just a librarian at this school. You are like mere dust to him.

Yet, despite this, you continued yearning for him no matter how ridiculous it seems. Perhaps you have fallen too deep in romantic fiction that you make hopeless wishes. You are known to be excellent in reading people but for some reason, you find it hard to read Divus. His perfect posture whenever he would scan the Applied Sciences aisle showed that he is focused on his reading. However, it is his expression you find hard to decipher. He looks dashing as ever, of course, but his thin lips and neutral gaze makes it hard for you to know what he is thinking.

If your life is a novel it would be so easy to know what runs in his mind. What he feels for you. Maybe he could even know what you feel for him. In a story, what makes characters likable is knowing what their emotions, their feelings, their ambitions, and their dreams are, for they are already laid out in ink on pages. Implicit or explicit information, simple or complex structure of personality, it does not matter. You would easily know about them for they are just sentences away from understanding.

And in romance novels…oh, how dreamy they are. How easy they make it seem to fall in love, to confess, and to achieve a happy ending. However, as a librarian, you know the reality of your situation. Your relationship with Crewel is a professional. Strictly, if you were to add an adjective. Is it really strictly professional? Your right brain points out the moments in your life where you interacted with him. At faculty meetings, reunions, at the library…moments like those just feel surreal you almost believed that you made those up on your own. Probably because you initiated each of those interactions yourself.

The only time, where Crewel would come to you himself, are rare. One time he came to the library and checked out a book to read in his spare time. His voice distracted you. It was like cherry wine. Sweet, smooth, enough to make your throat dry and your cheeks flushed. Oh, you could listen to him talk for hours in that tone of his, and he could even make you do anything he pleases.

You greet each other good morning or good afternoon when you pass by each other, and he would smile a teasing one at you as if you two shared a secret with each other. Well, technically you did, for one time you bought him coffee under the pouring rain, and he repaid you for your kindness. Soon enough your coffee exchange became a routine for both of you. It was sweeter than the cream in his coffee. It was more refreshing than the rainy day you shared with each other.

His gaze. His posture. His voice. His smile. Despite those small interactions with each other you are still troubled by what he thinks of you. A friend? A colleague? A special someone? Why is this so hard? Why was it so easy to fall in love? And when things could not get worse for you, your left brain argued that he might not be interested to mingle with a man.

Well, you could find out for yourself, but that would be creepy. Your workspace is in the library! You could not just leave when you please just so you can observe him. You could not use the staff files to your advantage—that is being a borderline stalker. Whatever Crewel’s orientation is, is his to keep and his to disclose to you. Oh, but still. If this were a novel, you could easily analyze the situations that give off evidence of him liking men. Or liking someone like you.

If that were the case you would not have a hard time trying to decipher his words, his gaze, his tone, and his actions towards you. If that were the case…if that were the case…then…well, there’s no then. Divus Crewel is not a fictional character to analyze. He is your coworker, your colleague.

It is hard to know what he thinks of you, at all. You really wished that you could…but the thought of knowing what he thinks to scare you, as well.

Rejection is not that far from reality. Who are you compared to him again? A nobody. A simple, ‘timid’, librarian that enjoys reading romantic and fiction novels and inserts himself in scenarios he makes up for himself just so he can…find the happiness he wishes to have.

But Divus is your happiness. Became your source of happiness. Ironic how he colors the muted floor of the library with his monochromatic appearance. Maybe it is better that you keep your feelings to yourself. You avoid the risk of rejection and humiliation as well as ruining whatever it is your current relationship with Crewel is.

You barely registered the visitor in front of your desk until a familiar red leathery gloved hand rested atop of yours. The contact of the leather sent a spark of electricity through you that you snapped your head up to meet alluring silvery blue eyes. There is only one person in this college that owns those distinct, beautiful, silvery blue eyes.

Divus.

“Have I interrupted your moment of peace, sir?” He asked in that cherry wine voice of his. It made your throat dry up and your face warm. “N-No—no!” You squeaked, shaking your head to brush off the embarrassment. Quickly, you fixed your composure and appeared presentable. As presentable as you could be under his stare that is. You just hope that he found some amusement in your haste. “D-Div—Mr. Crewel, what can I do for you?” You smiled as you speak in a professional tone. The edge of his lips curled into a familiar smirk and still you could not determine what was running through his mind at the moment.  

“I came to return the book I borrowed last week,” he said, placing down the novel on your desk. Sense and Sensibility. Jane Austen. Right, he borrowed that last week. It is not your place to judge whatever it is he desires to read. “Of course,” you nodded, “did you enjoy reading it?” You started on a small talk as you take out your logbook for the check-ins and outs of books. “Somewhat,” Crewel shrugged, “I had my eyes set on another book I would like to borrow.”

“Oh? What is it? I’ll go get it for you.” You stood up after sliding the logbook back to its drawer. Crewel did not leave from where he was standing. His eyes were simply on you. You had to hide your nervousness under his gaze. “I had my eyes on it ever since that rainy day, when you offered me shelter in the library until the rain passes,” he mused. “General fiction, I believe, was the genre.”

“If that’s the case then you better tell me the title,” you joked, taking a stool to the genre’s aisle. “Are you certain you can find it?” Crewel coolly challenged. You almost laughed but did not fight the smile on your lips. “Mr. Crewel, I spend most of my time in this library. I know every book and I still have the Dewey Decimal system memorized…” You kept your eyes distracted by scanning the spines of the books on the shelves. You are aware that he is still looking at you that is why you refused to look back at him. You are not sure what will happen if you look back at him while conversing.  

“If that is the case—” why does he suddenly sound a bit close? “—may you find ‘How to Ask your Dense Colleague Out to Dinner?’”

What a lengthy title. It sounds very basic and almost like a rule book than a novel. Well, that is General Fiction for you. Though you are quite unsure if such a book exists in the library. “Hm…” you hummed, a finger on your chin, as your eyes scanned the shelves. “I don’t think I have that here…Crowley pays me enough to support my rent and meals, but not enough to buy new books. Plus, the students…”

You heard him chuckle beside you and fought the urge to turn to him. “I believe I was not frank enough. Ah, well, I will put all subtleties aside, then…”

His warm breath tickling your skin was what made you finally turn to him. The proximity of your noses startled you that you nearly stumbled out of your stool if it were not for Divus’ hand grabbing yours to pull you to him. You gasped, shocked, as you landed close to his chest. His other hand supported your waist, and your eyes widened his silvery blues. You can feel your heart hammering against his. Your legs feel like putty when he gave you that teasing smirk. Your name—your first name—sounds surreal from his lips. Your entire world was a confusing mix of vertigo and bright lights.

“Will you go to dinner with me?”

You stared. You stammered. You are flabbergasted and flustered. You were unsure how to react to such a forward question that your brain completely shut down. But you cannot embarrass yourself—you must not. Not when…not when…not when…!

Oh, he will he stop saying your name with such sentiment?

“Is your silence a rejection or a consideration?” He rose a brow and your face flushed even more. “No! I mean yes—I mean—no, it isn’t a rejection—”

“Then you have been anticipating this?”

“Divus!”

He laughed. He laughed at your state. He laughed at your awkwardness. But most importantly his laugh sounds so pleasant. Like he was teasing you and you liked him teasing. You grew shy, averting your gaze from his and fidgeting with your fingers. “I mean…I mean…why?”

Crewel stopped laughing and looked at you. “Why what?”

“Why…me? Out of all people?” You asked as fear and denial keep you from grasping the fact that this is all real and not another scenario you made up during rainy days. Crewel’s face remained passive. Neutral. It was eating at your heart and you just wish what is going through his mind.

“Is it not obvious, puppy?” He raised a brow at you. The hand holding your wrist now tilted your chin in his direction. “It is not by fate or destiny, but a mere law that dictates the gravitational pull of similar atoms that is programmed by the need to chemically bind together.”

You suddenly felt stumped. “W—What?”

“I like you, puppy,” Crewel clarified, adoring the way your confusion turned to pure surprise, “and I would like to have dinner with you. Perhaps another, if the first went well.”

You need some time to process this. Your head felt so light you might pass out in his arms. Actually, you would not mind that in the slightest. His coat is just so soft it feels like heaven. A proper response of agreement failed to come to your mind so instead, you asked him again, “And what if the first does not end well?”

Crewel smiled at you. “Then we shall try again with the next dinner. Mind you, puppy, as a man of science, I am not afraid of failure if trying means more chances of perfecting my goal.”

“And what’s that goal?” You asked and physically stopped yourself from combusting when he leaned closer to you that your noses touch and you smell his cologne, and his bold scent.

“The goal to become yours.”

#fullcowling #divus crewel #divus crewel x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst divus crewel #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #HAFHAEUFAFEFEU #I KEEP TYPIING CROWLEY INSTEAD OF CREWEL SO IT ENDED UP BEING DIVUS CROWEY #AFJEIFIEFFIAEG #this is longe rthan i expected #actually i cannot physically write short scenarios unless i rewrite it over and over #i dont think this is 1500 words either #the vil catboy fic wasnt 1500 words either but it was close #i wrote that three times #this was just written once #and i feel like if i rewrite it the pining will just disappear!!! #i listened to a playlist for homeless romantic by ssilvics on yt

[babyybitchhhwrites]

Hisoka x Reader 18+

Title: An Unexpected Surprise 

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 4445

Warnings: barebacking, cowgirl position, hot tub sex

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581845

♥♥♥♥

Finding Hisoka waiting for you in your room was not a particularly surprising turn of events. The man had a history of simply letting himself in whenever the mood to do so struck his fancy and, despite not having a keycard to grant him access, you’d never been able to find any evidence to suggest forced entry. His enigmatic response every time you’d asked how he did it had been “It’s magic”. Nothing more. Nothing less. It was infuriating and unnerving in equal measure but you’d since become grudgingly accustomed to these impromptu visits. It seemed to be part and parcel where any acquaintance with him was concerned. 

Finding Hisoka naked and waiting for you in the hot tub your room was outfitted with, however, was unexpected. The candles and the scattered rose petals floating in the water with him were especially concerning and you froze in the doorway, trying to process what you were seeing. Nude man. Cheesy romantic setting. The smell of wisteria and jasmine wafting from the burning wicks that were strategically placed on every available surface. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was looking to genuinely woo you this evening but you were much too familiar with his twisted inclinations to fall for that trick. 

“What are you doing?” You asked suspiciously. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He simpered and submerged one sharp nailed hand under the water before lifting it back up so that the resulting splash echoed off the walls. An errant petal cascaded down into the water again and another plastered itself to the elegant curve of his wrist, looking for all the world like a splotch of blood against pale white skin. The handful of candles floating in the tub shifted against the ripples and slowly drifted in opposite directions as he brought his gaze up to pin you with a pointed leer. “I’ve been waiting for you, love. For some time now, actually. I think I might be starting to prune.” 

“Pity.” You murmured, thoroughly distracted. “That doesn’t answer my question though. What’s with all of … this?”

Cocking his head to one side when you gestured vaguely at the bathroom, Hisoka allowed his smile to widen. “Don’t you like it? I was under the impression that most women enjoyed this sort of thing.”

“I don’t.” You shot back, sounding unnecessarily petulant to your own ears.

“Well, I do. Now get in.” 

Lifting a brow at the command in his tone, you stood your ground. Hisoka didn’t seem daunted by the look of challenge you were pinning him with though and he merely continued to stare you down with a level of patience that spoke volumes. He was willing to wait as long as it took and he would not be leaving until he got what he wanted. Typical. 

You finally gave in with a deeply bothered sigh and reached for the hem of your shirt. “Fine. But I expect an explanation once I’m in there.” 

“You know I’m not in the habit of leaving you disappointed.” Hisoka purred as he watched you jerkily disrobe, annoyance with his antics evident in every quick motion. 

Saying he was unperturbed by the prickly display would have been an understatement and, realizing that you weren’t going to get anywhere by acting like this, you dropped the pretense altogether. Your shoulders relaxed and you reached back to unclasp your bra, shrugging the straps down the length of your arms. Hisoka’s pointedly dangerous attention zeroing in on your exposed chest made your skin crawl in a way that was as exciting as it was disconcerting. You tried not to pay him any mind though, ignoring the goosebumps that erupted across your body when you slipped your fingers into the waistband of your panties so you could slide them off. 

Your nipples tightened and peaked for your audience of one as you straightened back up upon stepping out of them. Being naked in front of this particular man was always an experience, if not because he was quite possibly the most deadly individual taking up residence in Heaven’s Arena then because you never knew what to expect from him. He was capable of any number of atrocities, as violent as he was unpredictable, and here you were, nude as the day you were born. It always left you feeling indescribably vulnerable and defenseless but, in this case at least, he was just as naked as you were. 

Somehow, you found that marginally comforting and you stepped over to the hot tub without bothering to try and cover yourself. Such bashful behavior would only serve to amuse Hisoka and give him a reason to tease and bully you, which wasn’t something you usually invited. He’d have his fun with you either way before this night was through so there really wasn’t any reason to give him more ammunition to work with. 

“I’m starting to think I should talk to the staff about upping security on my room.” You said, casually offhand as you climbed over the ledge of the tub. 

“That won’t stop me, I’m afraid. You’re welcome to give it a try though.”

Shooting him a quick look, you stepped down into the water and couldn’t seem to resist issuing a quiet sound of pleasure when the warmth immediately started seeping into your muscles. It felt much too good for you to cling to your displeasure with his invasive escapades and total lack of respect for personal boundaries. The tantalizingly sweet, relaxing aroma drifting throughout the steamy room also helped and your last remaining reservations were gone before you even realized it.

Humming contentedly when you lowered yourself down to sit, you watched the candles rock around you from the resulting slosh of your added mass to the water. You probably should’ve known better than to trust Hisoka with so many fire hazards in a single space but, so far at least, he hadn’t done anything outwardly distressing enough to warrant panic on your part. Besides breaking and entering his way into your room, that is. 

You glanced across the expanse of the tub to find him watching you, a knowing smirk curling his damnably kissable mouth, and you huffed. “Spill it.” 

“Whatever could you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. What’s with this lovey dovey atmosphere? It doesn’t suit you.” 

He had the nerve to look shocked by that assertion. “How rude! And here I am trying to do something thoughtful for you.”

You pinned him with a wry smile. “I don’t buy that, Hisoka.” 

“Good. Because it was bullshit.” 

You laughed before you could catch it. That seemed to please him and, drawing a slow breath that made his broad chest puff out, Hisoka gradually leaned forward so that the candles scattered again with the redistribution of his weight in the tub. He was lythe and sleek in the flickering light, all sinewy muscle and unfairly attractive. An entirely different animal with his vibrant red hair down, the signature star and teardrop you were accustomed to seeing absent for once. Your throat cinched as you watched him close the distance between you two but didn’t try to escape; allowing him to brace his hands against the ledge so that your head was bracketed between his arms and you were effectively caged in. Trapped. 

“This,” He intoned in a sly, lilting voice. “Is all for me, love. You’re just the lucky girl I’ve decided to share this special night with, that’s all. Don’t you feel honored?” 

“What’s the occasion?” You asked thinly, idly wondering if now was a good time to start panicking. 

Supple lips parting on a breathy chuckle, Hisoka dipped his face down to brush a fleeting kiss across your mouth. You didn’t make a move to return the gesture, letting him deliver increasingly more demanding pecks to your face before eventually pulling back with a soft, reverberating groan. 

“It’s my birthday.” 

Your brows shot up in stark surprise, jerking your attention around to look into his face. “Your birthday?” He nodded, once, and you valiantly tried to wrap your head around that information. “You mean to tell me someone actually gave birth to you and you didn’t just … appear one day?” 

“What a mean thing to say.” He admonishingly chided, but the glint of amusement reflecting in those ocher eyes suggested that he found such an accusation funny rather than offensive. Rolling his shoulders back in an enticingly slow shrug that made the muscles in his chest flex, Hisoka nudged even closer and you tensed when you found yourself pinned against the side of the tub. “Isn’t there anything else you can think of that might be more appropriate for this situation?” 

You thought about that for a moment, trying to pretend like you didn’t notice the spark of pooling heat in your gut. “You’re a Gemini …” You said at last. “I’m not surprised. Actually, that explains a lot.” 

Hisoka promptly threw his head back and laughed up at the ceiling. You chanced a tentative smile, finding his good humor tonight a bit suspicious, but then he abruptly shoved himself up against you so hard that water splashed out over the side of the tub and slapped against the tile floor. Mouth opening in shock, you shuddered as he forced his way between your legs until his pelvis was slotted tightly against yours. The unmistakable weight of his cock, already straining hard, settled on your stomach and your hands flew up to blindly sink nails into his biceps. 

“Hisoka - !” 

“I was expecting to hear ‘happy birthday’, at the very least.” He cooed, peering down at you from just a scant few inches away. “Where are your manners, darling? Hmm?”

Leaning close, he teasingly brushed the tip of his nose along your cheek in a blithe imitation of affectionate nuzzling. You tipped your face up at him and brought your legs around his narrow waist in silent encouragement. It was impossible to deny the dizzying heights of arousal this incredibly dangerous man inspired within you but all he did was laugh, the puff of hot air on your skin making you tremble. 

“What a curious little thing you are. One moment you’re acting like you could care less and the next you’re so eager for me to have my way with you.” He paused to nip at your earlobe and the sharp sensation of teeth sinking into delicate flesh caused you to gasp. Mouth curling in a devious smirk, Hisoka pressed his lips against the outer shell of your ear so that his voice was the only thing you could make out over the sound of your own pounding heartbeat. “Do you really expect things to go your way just because you’re willing to submit to me? Is that it?” 

You tried to speak but nothing came out. All you could focus on was the hard length resting threateningly against your lower belly, the palpable memories of his cock carving out a space within you inspiring white hot pangs of desire throughout your core. There was a veritable laundry list detailing exactly why engaging with him like this wasn’t a good idea but you still found yourself arching into his touch when Hisoka brushed the rough pad of his thumb over your puckered nipple. You couldn’t escape his gravitational pull even if you’d tried. 

“Well?” He prodded, letting the sharp point of a single nail just barely scrape the peak of your breast. 

Sucking in a haggard gulp of air, you clung to him even more fervently. “If you want to hear it so bad, I’ll say it.” You managed to croak out.

Hisoka noised a thoughtful hum and drew back, surprising you yet again when he slipped out of your hold in favor of retreating back to his end of the hot tub. “I think I’d rather have you show me.” 

You stared in rapt disbelief as he reclined against the side, bracing his elbows along the ledge so that just the tips of those sinfully long fingers dipped into the water. It took a prolonged moment for your cloudy mind to catch up with what was happening but, at last, you grumbled something unkind under your breath before moving after him, much more mindful of the bobbing candles than he’d been.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“I’ve may have heard that once or twice before.” He said with a flippant shrug. 

Pursing your lips, you climbed up to straddle his lap. Hisoka offered you a smile that could only be described as condescending, making you scowl even as you reached under the softly rolling surface of the water to find his cock. You gave it a tight squeeze, reveling in the silky skin under your fingers, and his chest hitched at the sensation.

You let out a slow breath through your nose while you pumped him, resigned to your fate. He probably would’ve been content to take the lead as he always did if you’d just told him what he wanted to hear, but it was clear now that he wouldn’t lift a finger to assist until he’d deemed your transgression paid in full. Such bratty behavior was par the course for him though, so not at all surprising, and you angled his cock so you could rub the glans against your clit in tauntingly slow passes.

“Did you want anything else for your birthday?” You ventured quietly. 

“No. Just you.” 

You cocked a brow at that but the cryptic grin Hisoka fixed you with seemed to imply that was all the explanation you were going to get. As much as you knew better than to unquestioningly trust the things that came out of his mouth, there really wasn’t much you could do to argue the point and you grudgingly left it at that. 

Using your fingertips to guide the hard length of him to your entrance, you started to sink down. The bulbous head dipped into the flesh of your labia, forcing the meaty lips to spread for him, and you sucked in a faltering breath to steady yourself. The lack of meaningful prep added onto the resistance of the water made penetration a slow going process but you basked in the searing burn. He breached your body one torturous fraction at a time, the pressure just this side of painful, until the glans finally popped through the first barrier. You stilled above him, giving your body a chance to adjust before bearing down on him again with an unbidden moan that seemed to claw its way up your throat.

Hisoka responded with his own rumbling noise of pleasure and you choked on a disgruntled squawk when he lifted his hips to force himself another inch or so inside. You swayed above him, reaching out with both hands to grab onto his shoulders when the tension in your loins doubled and threatened to bowl you over. The stretch was exquisite, blurring the line of pleasure and discomfort so thoroughly that you weren’t sure which side you were on anymore. It hardly seemed to matter though and, biting your lip in concentration, you pushed down until he was sheathed within you halfway to the base. 

You had to stop and regroup then, taking several long blinks to clear the starbursts from your eyes. Hisoka shifted underneath you, making your pussy ache and flutter around him, but he didn’t try to force you to take the rest of his cock just yet. Instead, he nonchalantly brought one of his hands around to idly tweak your nipple and you gasped. Brows furrowing, you tucked your chin down to watch him pinch the sensitive nub between thumb and forefinger before giving it a playful tug. White hot static raced down your spine, making your cunt ooze more sticky slick, and you eagerly arched against him with a low sound of wanting. 

“Are you making those pretty noises just for me, love?” 

Groaning deep in the back of your throat, you haltingly pivoted your hips - up, down, up and down - to loosen your passage and coat him in more arousal. When you started to lower yourself again just a brief moment later, the penetration came easier and Hisoka’s cock slipped against your inner walls until you were fully seated on his lap. You tossed your head back, sighing in pleasure, and he took that opportunity to approvingly squeeze your breast in a tight grip. 

“Look at you.” He breathed. “So lovely when you’re enjoying yourself on my cock like this.” 

“Hisoka …” You whimpered and rocked against him, the gentle slosh of the water echoing in your ears. 

“Tell me how it feels. Tell me just how much you love being stretched and filled up.”

Screwing your eyes shut, you leaned into the sturdy muscle mass underneath you and linked your arms around his neck. “I love it … you always feel so good when you’re inside me. I can feel every bump and vein. Every time you even twitch it drives me wild. It’s like your cock was made specifically to fit me.”

Hisoka chuckled and nuzzled into your hair. “Maybe it was.”

You rolled your eyes at that, safely out of his line of sight with your chin docked over his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind your lack of response though and when you pushed up so that he drug against your clinging cunt until just the head remained wedged inside your body, he issued a pleased groan. You sunk down again in shuddering slow motion, acutely aware of every inch of him that entered you. It was thick and heavy, pushing up on that dense cluster of nerves just right to make your breath come a little harder. A little faster. Nails sinking into his skin, you started bouncing on his cock at a subdued pace while trying to be mindful of the water level but it quickly became apparent that this wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy you. 

It was hard and fast that you needed to get off and you knew the same applied to him. The two of you had gone through the motions with each other enough times in the past to recognize what would make the cut and what wouldn’t. This slow, gentle tempo was decidedly not it and you hissed in frustration as you started bouncing with more enthusiasm. Just as you’d expected, the water churned around your heaving body and it didn’t take long at all for you to catch the sound of it splashing over the edge to hit the floor below. The thought of getting billed for any incurring cleanup costs flitted through your mind, and you were sure it wouldn’t be cheap in a place like Heaven’s Arena, but then Hisoka was working a hickey into the side of your neck and you promptly forgot all about it. 

“Oooh … shit …!” 

Slyly humming his agreement, he threaded fingers through your hair and pulled it aside, nails catching your scalp in the process. You hissed at the lingering pain and obediently tilted your head, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat to him. Hisoka’s mouth immediately descended upon the pounding pulse point laid bare to him, sucking and nipping at the spot until it was minutely throbbing in time with your heartbeat. Another juvenile hickey for you to hide in the coming days, you were sure, but it was hard to be annoyed with him for that when his cock felt like it was tickling your cervix on every downward thrust. The sheer force at which you were driving down onto him seemed to punch the oxygen right out of your lungs, making you suck in one ragged gulp of air after another. You tried to pace yourself over the next few minutes but it quickly became too much and you finally had no choice but to slow to a stop and try to find your bearings again. 

Having him sitting hot and heavy inside you was too much to ignore though and you weakly ground down on him with twitching hips. Hisoka’s response was to moan right into your ear in an undulating, rising pitch that went straight to your cunt. It fluttered and clamped down around him, a warning tremor rippling through your body, and you wheezed. 

It still wasn’t enough. 

“Hisoka …” You mewled, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

He issued a thoughtful sound and pressed a deceptively chaste kiss to the mark he’d worked into your neck. “How unfortunate. Though I might be persuaded to help if you say the magic words ...” 

Knowing it wasn’t ‘please’ he wanted to hear, you scoffed. He could be such a spoiled brat sometimes. “Fine. Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy many more.” 

The way he laughed made his cock twitch inside your pussy and you jerked, starting to pant more vigorously. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Although it didn’t exactly sound convincing coming out of your mouth, I suppose I’m willing to accept it.” 

You were about to tell him to shove it when Hisoka abruptly brought both arms around your back and pinned you flush to the front of him. It made your breasts squish against the firm expanse of his chest, the electrifying jolt of friction to your nipples sending fresh waves of pleasure shooting down your back. Sucking in a faltering inhale, you allowed your head to loll to the side where it was pressed up on his shoulder and you clutched at him all the more fervently, bracing for what would come next.

Even when you were expecting it, Hisoka managed to catch you off guard when he flexed up off the bottom of the tub and drove into you with enough force to have you shrieking in delight. Your whole body shook against his and you instinctively tried to push away with your knees, attempting to escape the blinding pressure he was exerting on your pulsing cunt. His hold on you was as good as iron though and you couldn’t find a reprieve, helplessly ragdolling in his arms as he started up a brutal pace that had water violently sloshing out over the sides of the tub. You probably would have been horrified by how much of the floor was soaked if you’d had the wherewithal to care about that sort of thing while you were getting your brains mercilessly fucked out but you were too far gone to give it more than a passing thought.

“Hii - Hiso - ka!” 

The thin chuckle that filtered over you was enough to make you claw at his shoulders, his back. Any part of him you could reach. You barely had enough time to draw a single, ragged breath before he was slamming back home and knocking you senseless again, your guts quaking under the intensity of his thrusts. The pressure inside you swelled almost nauseatingly fast, indescribably better than your own attempt at getting off which seemed pitiful in comparison to this. Hisoka was a force to be reckoned with in and out of the ring, and the strength in his slim build was never more apparent than when he was pounding into your cunt hard enough to make it throb. 

Uncontrollably shaking, you blindly dropped your hands from his scratched up back in favor of holding on to the edge of the tub in a white knuckled grip. You tried to use it as leverage to push your body upward and lessen the intensity of his hips driving into you, but it was useless. Hisoka merely tightened his arms around your back and forcibly yanked you down to meet the punishing thrusts tit for tat. You wailed, unable to do anything except sit there and take it while the rapidly mounting tension in your loins continued to build higher and higher, leaving you swaying dazedly in his grasp. 

“Ooh! God!”

“Is this what you needed, darling? A nice hard fuck to get you off? Hm?” 

Hisoka, unsurprisingly, didn’t have the grace to sound so much as a little out of breath and you wanted to hate him for that even as you threw your head back, eyes rolling in your skull. The reverberating clap of skin on skin was practically deafening and the sticky wet squelch of your pussy sloppily sucking him in deep on every jolting thrust only added to the lewd cacophony filling the space of the bathroom. It was overwhelming in the best possible way, indescribably more satisfying than anything else you’d experienced before, and you twisted in his arms like something wild. Something possessed. 

“I can feel that pretty little pussy of yours squeezing me like a vice grip.” Hisoka groaned, sultry and unbearably heavy. “Are you about to cum for me?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, held it, and the coil snapped. Every inch of your body rattled as if you’d been electrocuted, the full brunt of orgasm slamming into you like a sack of bricks. You went ramrod stiff against him and screamed out your pleasure as he fucked you right through it, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for so much as a second. Hisoka enthusiastically moaned underneath you each time your palpitating cunt squeezed down around him, sounding like some wanton whore, but you were no better yourself. The two of you made quite the pair.

Your throat was raw and scratchy by the time you finally started to come down some moments later one convulsing tremor at a time. It was only when you began whimpering in high strung, oversensitized distress that he slowed down, though he didn’t stop altogether. Hisoka’s cock was sliding easily in and out of your thrumming cunt now and you could feel what a churning mess he’d made of you with every taunting push of his hips, the goopy consistency making embarrassingly loud sucking noises. Seething, you put shaking hands on his chest and pushed back to look at him imploringly.

“Hisokaaa …” You mewled, breath hitching when he brushed against the dense cluster of pulsating nerves from a different angle in this position. 

“Don’t tell me you’re ready to tap out already.” He purred and hungrily licked his lips. “That was only round one and it is my birthday, you know. That means you have to keep going until I’m satisfied.” 

You issued a frazzled groan into the statically charged air, deciding once and for all that this man was going to be the death of you. The fleeting thought that you’d die happy, at least, didn’t serve as much of a comfort.

#hisoka morow #hisoka x reader #hunter x hunter #self insert bullshit #my wriitng #hisoka